#as i keep bearing the burdens of what i no longer recall

[patronsaint-ofthedenial]

If reincarnation is real I must have done something atrocious in my past life and now I'm suffering the consequences in this one

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

JON SNOW FORTNIGHT EVENT 2023

Day 6 - Shadows of Heroism

“Gared was near as old as I am and longer on the Wall,” he went on, “yet it would seem he forswore himself and fled. I should never have believed it, not of him, but Lord Eddard sent me his head from Winterfell. Of Royce, there is no word. One deserter and two men lost, and now Ben Stark too has gone missing.” He sighed deeply. “Who am I to send searching after him? In two years I will be seventy. Too old and too weary for the burden I bear, yet if I set it down, who will pick it up? Alliser Thorne? Bowen Marsh? I would have to be as blind as Maester Aemon not to see what they are. The Night’s Watch has become an army of sullen boys and tired old men. Apart from the men at my table tonight, I have perhaps twenty who can read, and even fewer who can think, or plan, or lead. Once the Watch spent its summers building, and each Lord Commander raised the Wall higher than he found it. Now it is all we can do to stay alive.”

- Tyrion III, AGOT

This fandom rarely ever acknowledges the skills that got Jon his place as Jeor Mormont’s steward - which subsequently marked him as next in line to lead the Watch. It seems that most people think it was purely because of Jon’s identity as a Stark, which doesn’t seem to track with what we’re actually shown in the text.

Because up until this point, Jon didn’t register in Mormont’s conscious.

Mormont frowned through his thick grey beard. “Snow? Oh, the Stark bastard. I think not. The young ones need to forget the lives they left behind them, the brothers and mothers and all that. A visit home would only stir up feelings best left alone. I know these things. My own blood kin … my sister Maege rules Bear Island now, since my son’s dishonor. I have nieces I have never seen.” He took a swallow. “Besides, Jon Snow is only a boy. You shall have three strong swords, to keep you safe.”

Jon is, as of now, just the Stark bastard. That’s all he is. And Mormont can barely recall him in conversation. As far as the Old Bear knows, Jon is merely a privileged lordling who is yet to earn his place at the Wall. And we must recall the tragedy of Waymar Royce, an inexperienced lad who was thrust into a position of leadership a bit too early - something Mormont deeply regrets.

So what tipped the scales in Jon’s favor?

He told them all of it, even the part where he’d set Ghost at Rast’s throat. Maester Aemon listened silently, blind eyes fixed on the fire, but Chett’s face darkened with each word. “Without us to keep him safe, Sam will have no chance,” Jon finished. “He’s hopeless with a sword. My sister Arya could tear him apart, and she’s not yet ten. If Ser Alliser makes him fight, it’s only a matter of time before he’s hurt or killed.”

Chett could stand no more. “I’ve seen this fat boy in the common hall,” he said. “He is a pig, and a hopeless craven as well, if what you say is true.”

“Maybe it is so,” Maester Aemon said. “Tell me, Chett, what would you have us do with such a boy?”

“Leave him where he is,” Chett said. “The Wall is no place for the weak. Let him train until he is ready, no matter how many years that takes. Ser Alliser shall make a man of him or kill him, as the gods will.”

“That’s stupid,” Jon said. He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. “I remember once I asked Maester Luwin why he wore a chain around his throat.”

Maester Aemon touched his own collar lightly, his bony, wrinkled finger stroking the heavy metal links. “Go on.”

“He told me that a maester’s collar is made of chain to remind him that he is sworn to serve,” Jon said, remembering. “I asked why each link was a different metal. A silver chain would look much finer with his grey robes, I said. Maester Luwin laughed. A maester forges his chain with study, he told me. The different metals are each a different kind of learning, gold for the study of money and accounts, silver for healing, iron for warcraft. And he said there were other meanings as well. The collar is supposed to remind a maester of the realm he serves, isn’t that so? Lords are gold and knights steel, but two links can’t make a chain. You also need silver and iron and lead, tin and copper and bronze and all the rest, and those are farmers and smiths and merchants and the like. A chain needs all sorts of metals, and a land needs all sorts of people.”

Maester Aemon smiled. “And so?”

“The Night’s Watch needs all sorts too. Why else have rangers and stewards and builders? Lord Randyll couldn’t make Sam a warrior, and Ser Alliser won’t either. You can’t hammer tin into iron, no matter how hard you beat it, but that doesn’t mean tin is useless. Why shouldn’t Sam be a steward?”

[…]

Maester Aemon was gentler. “Is your friend a hunter?”

“He hates hunting,” Jon had to admit.

“Can he plow a field?” the maester asked. “Can he drive a wagon or sail a ship? Could he butcher a cow?”

“No.”

Chett gave a nasty laugh. “I’ve seen what happens to soft lordlings when they’re put to work. Set them to churning butter and their hands blister and bleed. Give them an axe to split logs, and they cut off their own foot.”

“I know one thing Sam could do better than anyone.”

“Yes?” Maester Aemon prompted.

Jon glanced warily at Chett, standing beside the door, his boils red and angry. “He could help you,” he said quickly. “He can do sums, and he knows how to read and write. I know Chett can’t read, and Clydas has weak eyes. Sam read every book in his father’s library. He’d be good with the ravens too. Animals seem to like him. Ghost took to him straight off. There’s a lot he could do, besides fighting. The Night’s Watch needs every man. Why kill one, to no end? Make use of him instead.”

Maester Aemon closed his eyes, and for a brief moment Jon was afraid that he had gone to sleep. Finally he said, “Maester Luwin taught you well, Jon Snow. Your mind is as deft as your blade, it would seem.”

- Jon V, AGOT

It must have been Jon advocating for Sam. He told Aemon how he stood up for Sam and led the other recruits in making sure that he wasn’t excluded. He correctly identified that the Watch needs all sorts of people and comes up with a workable solution for Sam’s inclusion. And given that Aemon is one of the higher ranking officers in the Watch, it’s more than possible that he told Mormont of everything Jon had said and done. And Mormont saw in Jon a man who was quick on his feet, knew how to lead and delegate, and knew how to tackle the Watch’s weaknesses, which are identified by Mormont himself a few chapters earlier.

So Jon proved his worth. He proved that he was a man who could inspire and lead, plan ahead, and take action. Remember that by Jon V (when he becomes steward), he has all but taken control of the Watch’s new recruits and become the de factor master at arms (thereby supplanting the thoroughly ineffectual Alliser Thorne). He has also proven that he has an analytical nature by rightfully acknowledging that the Watch lacks learned men like Sam and he tackles that problem by placing Sam near Aemon thereby ensuring that the Watch will always be served by a learned and skilled maester.

Jon is already thinking like a Lord Commander, and he’s only a few weeks in! He knows the Watch’s weakness and correctly identifies how to bypass them. It’s all the more impressive when we note that this is quite early in his AGOT arc, meaning that his ability to plan ahead was not gained on the fly in A Dance with Dragons, but is a skill that he has always had and was slowly developing over time.

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

House of the Dragon 2x06: Quotes

"- My uncle is a challenge I welcome... if he dares face me. (Aemond) - I caution you, Aemond, boldness is one thing but overconfidence... (Alicent) - Remind me of your place on the small council. (Aemond) - You know very well I represented your father during the last years of his life, and I have been a councilor to Aegon. (Alicent) - Capably so. My father's dead and Aegon is... You served the realm well... at a time of need. That need is ended. You are no longer obliged. (Aemond) - It's not a matter of obligation. This council has need of a tempering voice. (Alicent) - We have more than enough of those, if you ask me. (Aemond) - You have the impetuousness of youth... and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. (Alicent) - I release you of your seat, such as it was. I'm sure you'll be much pleased to return to more... domestic pursuits. (Aemond) - Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? (Alicent) - You have the gratitude of the crown." (Aemond)

"- I am but a man. The dragons are gods. Your Grace honors me beyond what I deserve." (Ser Steffon Darklyn)

"- There's something wrong with me. Someone poisoned me. The food, the wine. Or else it's this swamp air, or.... (Daemon) - The ghost of Harren the Black moaning his curses from Kingspyre Tower. (Alys) - Drivel! All of it! The ghosts, the curses, the blasted weirwood bed! I'm done with it! (Daemon) - Ah, yes. It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. Dragonstone, the Stepstones, Pentos, Harrenhal. (Alys) - I awake and I do not know where I've been. (Daemon) - There are older things in this world than you or I or living memory. You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. (Alys) - I'm not like you. (Caraxes screeches) (Daemon) - In some ways, no. You struggle to see there's an anger that blinds you. She never ever wanted it. The crown. She spared it no thought. Well, that's perhaps why your brother gave the crown to her. Perhaps those who strive for it are the least suited to wear it. (Alys) - Don't lecture me! (Daemon) - Viserys never wanted it himself, if you recall. It came to him and he did his best. It's not a prize to be won, but a burden to bear. (Wind blowing). (Alys) - If you have any counsel for dealing with the Riverlords, I'd be glad of it. (Daemon) - Daemon Targaryen asking for help? (Alys) - Counsel. (Daemon) - House Tully is not the largest house in the Riverlands, nor it is the richest, but it is the most stable. The Tully's wisdom has kept the river houses in line for centuries. They would kill each other to the last man if it were not for their liege lord. (Alys) - That dotard is no use to us. (Daemon) - But Grover Tully is their Lord Paramount. Without him, they will never raise their banners as one. (Alys) - Rivermen are made of mud. (Daemon) - They would rather die stuck in it than yield one inch to one another. (Alys) - Then I can do nothing. (Daemon) - You... no. (Alys) - I need help, Alys. (Daemon) - Do nothing now. In three days' time, the winds will shift." (Ayls)

"- It is my fault, I thin, that you have forgotten to fear me." (Rhaenyra)

"- There is good news to be had. The smallfolk of King's Landing are listening. They were ready enough to hear. The usupers have abandoned them. They are hungry, and they need someone to blame. (Mysaria) - Will it be enough. (Rhaenyra) - We have laid the kindling only. Tonight we will light it, and watch it begin to flare. (Mysaria) - And when it does, Aemond will put it down with force. (Rhaenyra) - That will make it rise the hotter. He cannot destroy his own city. Neither can they overthrow him. Maybe not, but it is harder to wage war abroad when you must also keep peace at home." (Mysaria)

"- The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. (Larys) - Why is this anger directed at us? It is Rhaenyra the Pretender who ordered the Gullet closed and left them all to starve. (Aemond) - They still look to you to ensure their well-being. That is the burden of authority. But you should not go it alone. It does occur to me that Your Grace has not to name a Hand, but you need one who may advance to your cause... with shrewdness and subtlety. (Larys) - Do you take me for a fool? (Aemond) - On the contrary, my prince. (Larys) - I've little patience for the self-important, Lord Larys, and even less for flatterers and lickspittles. But you are, as it happens, correct. Every king needs a Hand. I'll make it your responsibility. (Aemond) - My prince, it is an honor I'd never considered for myself. (Larys) - No, not to serve as Hand, you toad. To fetch him. Send word to Otto Hightower. My grandsire may be overcautious, but his devotion to his family has never been in doubt. (Aemond) - Mm, you'll see it done." (Larys)

"- Not all of us, I suppose, are called to great deeds. Some of us must serve in small ways... even if they are not what we would choose for ourselves. Meaning no offense, hm? None of this is your fault." (Rhaena)

"- Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come." (Addam)

"- He's lucky I did not have his tongue. (Rhaenyra) - And what did he say that was so deserving? (Jace) - And the symbols of authority are not jewels and gowns, but the shield and the sword. (Rhaenyra) - My ruler is my mother. And I do not wish it otherwise. Will you lead us to war yourself? (Jace) - Well, for a certainty I cannot remain here, pacing the floors, waiting for defeat and despair to visit me. (Rhaenyra) - Oh, don't be ridiculous. (Jace) - I'm doing all I can. I have directed Lord Mooton to march on Rook's Rest, ... (Rhaenyra) - We need Daemon and his dragon. (Jace) - May I be free for even one hour of the constant refrain of Daemon, Daemon, Daemon, (Rhaenyra) - My queen our gift is sent. (Mysaria) - What gift? (Jace) - Let us hope for clouds over the Blackwater tonight. (Wind blowing)" (Rhaenyra)

"- But it is my sincere hope that His Grace will be spared. (Grand Maester Orwyle) - And what will he be if he lives ? (Alicent) - There is war in the Reach now, Your Grace. House Beesbury has raised arms against the Hightower host. Retribution for their lord's demise." (Grand Maester Orwyle)

"- If he wrote letters, it would be to you. You were always his favorite. (Ser Gwayne Hightower) - Strange there has been no word. (Alicent) - Otto hightower is ever-resourceful. He will send news when there is news to send. You get on with it, don't you? When there isn't any choice. (Ser Gwayne Hightower) - My son, Daeron.... what's he like? (Alicent) - Does he not write to you? (Ser Gwayne Hightower) - Less and less these days. Ten-and-six now. (Alicent) - Letters, perhaps, hold less of his interest. He's stalwart. Clever. As adept with his lute as he is with his sword. And a feature in the fancies of many a young lady, I'll wager. He's kind. (Ser Gwayne Hightower) - That's good. Kindness is a quality I've found lacking in his brothers. (Alicent) - You did well to send him to ward. Yes, it seems the Red Keep, for all its privileges, may, in fact, be a less than salubrious environment for the forming of young men. (Ser Gwayne Hightower) - Was it the court or was it their mother? (Alicent) - I'm sure you did your best." (Ser Gwayne Hightower)

"- This one stopped singing. Isn't that strange? (Helaena) - I thought we might light a candle. For Aegon....and all our lost souls." (Alicent)

"- The drink takes the pain away, but it dulls your mind. (Larys) - Aegon grunting - Oh, take heart, Your Grace, you've already written yourself into legend. You survived dragonfire. Your mind... is all that remains to you. I do not say that gladly. And they will stare... at you, at you, ... or turn away. And they will underestimate you. And this will be your advantage. Your brother rules in your place now, which means that your life is in danger. But I think you know that. (Larys) - Help me." (Larys)

"- What was the manner of Lord Grove's passing? (Daemon) - Well, he's been ill, of course. (Ser Simon Strong) - Mm-hmm. (Daemon) - Riverrun's maesters... have been at their wits' end. Our own healer, Alys Rivers, volunteered her renowned skills. She plied her craft, but... there was naught more to be done." (Ser Simon Strong)

"- It is, as we hoped, a warning to the usurpers that you have strength beyond what they accredited. (Mysaria) - My own son questions my capabilities. He thinks I need Daemon at my side. And Daemon himself. He has ever done what suits Daemon. He was everything I wanted to be. Carefree. And dangerous. A man. And I was what he wanted. Cherished by my father, and made my father's heir. We were halves of a whole. He's never been at peace. He wished to possess me, but not to be possessed and to see me take hold, finally, of what he always believed to be his. I fear what he may now do. I fear he may have turned against me. It is more his way to disappear. In either case, I have lost him... and Caraxes with him. Rhaenys and her dragon are dead. I have Syrax and two young beasts. We cannot take on Vhagar alone. (Rhaenyra) - This world is cold and cruel, and there are few in it who are steadfast. You have seen me as worthy, as an equal, even. Because of that, I will serve you. I believe you are meant to be queen." (Mysaria)

[lostonehero]

Faith alone will not save you

Some demon Oscar because the concept won't leave me alone

The cross is a burden and a weapon he carries. The old metal hangs around his neck like an anchor, keeping him grounded and drowning him in the same breath. He's had it as long as he can recall. No one dared take it from him. The doctors didn't even note it when they stitched up his missing arm.

As a child, he was told explicitly what he was and how the cross is the only thing to ever save him. Even as his faith wavered, seeing scratch, seeing those things that took his arm, and learning about creatures that would haunt him, he could never bear to truly stray far.

He met Arthur, a man who was his purpose, someone to save, but he failed too scared to truly use his power to save him. He didn't deserve a goodbye from him. He drove him to the hospital, which was enough. It had to be enough. He was a man of sin even in these garbs of a priest no matter how much he helped how much he gave he will always be a creature of sin. His faith never seemed to ever be enough. He held the heavy cross in his hand. Always heavy, always painful.

The door to his office opened, and Oscar didn't notice till a familiar voice cleared their throat, and he dropped his cross, bearing the weight like an anchor around his neck. "Arthur... Detective Noel? What brings you both to this humble church?"

Arthur's eyes never focused on him. They never did, and Oscar had a feeling he knew why. "We would like you to help us."

Oscar felt lighter and full of hope. "Of course, I am happy to help."

"Before you agree, you have to understand what we're asking isn't going to be easy or nice." Noel said, rubbing the fresh scar on his neck. "You may not come out just missing an arm."

Oscar knew what that meant, and he didn't care. "Monsters exist, and if I help, I'll be able to save others from them?" The nkd from both men made him smile. "I accept whatever you need. I am here to help."

"Are you certain?" Arthur pauses and sighs. "Then there is something you must know, about John."

"John?" Oscar hums.

"Yes." Arthur seems glued to his spot as a shadow grows from behind him.

That mask, man... no, it wasn't a man. Oscar knew him. He always assumed that it was just a lost spirit, but a king? A God? Well, a fragment of a God. He gripped his cross in his hand, and it burned, and he could smell it burned against his flesh. He knew what that meant, but he wasn't threatened, and he shouldn't he shouldn't be getting any stronger. "It's nice to meet you, John." He doesn't hold out his hand. It still clutches his cross.

.......

It was an accident, Noel was just trying to pull him away from his right side, and since he no longer had an arm on that side, he grabbed the cross. The monstrous creature was charging them, and the slight tug by different hands snapped the old metal chain into pieces, and the cross dropped to the floor. The sound was deafening to Oscar, but it was quiet against the wooden rotten floor of the building they were trapped in. The monsters roar didn't even stop him from reaching out for it, nor did Noel's shout, and Arthur gasped as he was knocked into the stone wall of the room.

Oscar knew it should hurt more than it did. He knew that he shouldn't feel his right arm. He knew he shouldn't have this monster in his missing right hand, choking the beast. Without his cross, he is just like this monster. A man without faith... not a man, a monster, a demon, something he spent his whole life trying to separate himself from. All he did was pretend to be human. He squeezed his grip tighter, and the creature whined a mournful sound its own claws useless against his. His body ached as he felt things grow from it.

The creature was silenced with an auidiable crack. Oscar stared at his hand as he dropped the creature. It was pitch black and monstrous. He hated it.

A new voice jovial and loud. "Wow, I did not see that coming!"

Arthur hissed out a name Oscar didn't catch as his eyes caught on the man covered in blood wearing a suit with no shoes or socks.

"Well, well, well, what are you, little priest?" The man appears right next to Oscar. "Never seen a creature such as yourself." He laughs loud and twisted. "Cute horns like your horny!" Another laugh louder it seems.

Oscar tried to recite a prayer, but it burned on the tip of his tongue. He coughed a thick black smoke before he found his voice once more unchanged as if it mocked him for this body. "What are you?"

The man frowns amusement gone from his eyes. "Always that question never how ya doing Kayne. Just because I don't know what you are doesn't mean you aren't boring." He snaps his fingers, and all he receives is a sneeze from Oscar. "I take that back."

Oscar falls back as he sneezes again with another snap, and his clothes rip with two wings erupting from his back. He covers his face.

"I didn't do that." Kayne laughs again, appearing next to Arthur. "You see this shit? I mean, have you've seen a creature like this, John? Can't even pop his skull like a grape."

Oscar hugs his chest, shaking with eyes on him. "I just need my cross it will fix this. It always fixes this."

Noel beats Arthur to stating the obvious that Kayne and John weren't privy to. "Demons exist?"

Oscar flinched and hugged himself tighter.

"Demon?" Kayne laughs harder and more manic. "You've been reading too much of that Bible demons angels they don't exist, buddy."

Oscar looks up at Kayne. "Then what am i?"

That silenced Kayne the riased brow and slightly opened mouth was not an expression he ever seemed to wear. "What are you indeed?"

Oscar looked away as he got up off balanced, but he managed to stand. He frowns as he stares at his mismatched clawed hands. He takes a breath. "I am a man of faith. This can't change that..... I won't let it change that." He swallows. "Kayne, you can tell me what I am and what I'm not, but I would like it if you not hurt my friends, God may give you mercy, but I will not."

Arthur gasps. "Oscar, don't!" His voice is muffled by Kayne.

"Friends?" Kayne hums. "Fascinating. Ok, I won't, but I'll be keeping an eye on you. You're such an interesting creature. I can't wait to find out why I can't harm you." He vanishes, and Noel stares at Oscar.

Oscar looks down. "I apologize for losing my temper." He grimaced at the dead monster at his feet.

[sillycyan]

「 Daydreamtober 2024 」

I'm using the prompts to write, explain, draw, or just daydream more about the first events or facts that come to me when I see the word. Some things will be longer or higher quality than others, so please bear with me a lil bit. I gotta post lore somehow..

⟻ Day 17 — Justice ⟼ Word Count : 2,119

Reign sat at his desk in the NumberWon building, his fingers tapping uncontrollably against it. The office was fairly quiet, with the hum of low conversations and the distant clatter of keyboards creating an almost peaceful moment. However, all of his attention was on the file of a child model he represented, an "anonymous" girl, whose talent had piqued the fashion world's interest for some reason. For the first few months, he'd been constantly present at her shoots, acting as a guardian almost while she faced the murky waters of the modeling industry. He knew firsthand how quickly things could turn dark in an industry plagued with creeps and weirdos.

As the months passed, other projects drew his attention away from the girl. He had worked out a careful plan with her parents to ensure her safety, setting up trusted transportation and hiring security personnel he had worked with in the past. But no amount of planning could prepare him for the day everything began to unravel.

The announcement of a director swap caused an air of unease throughout Reign. Grace, the original director, had gone on vacation, leaving the project in the hands of someone new, someone unknown. He felt a knot form in his stomach as he remembered all the warnings he had received about replacement directors and their actions behind closed doors. He could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.

After the shoot wrapped up, Reign received a message from the girl, requesting that her car be sent to his office. As he arranged the details, he prepared himself for their conversation. She arrived, her face a mix of clear exhaustion and some uncertainty, and he quickly motioned for her to sit.

“Well, how was the shoot?” he asked, trying to boost her mood.

“It was fine, I guess…” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Reign leaned forward, concern all over his face. “You can tell me if something’s bothering you or if anything happen. It’s okay. I am here to help with these things.”

After a moment’s pause, she looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I don’t think I want to work on the magazine anymore.” she confessed, her voice trembling.

“What’s going on?” Reign prompted her gently. “You know you can tell me if anything happen. I will have them removed.”

She hesitated before speaking again. “The new director… she made some weird comments. I don’t know.”

Reign’s heart raced, a protective instinct flooding his senses. “What kind of comments?”

As she began to explain, her words came out quickly, the weight of her discomfort pressing down on her small shoulders. Reign felt a surge of rage rise within him. This was more than just an annoyance. This was crossing a line.

“Was it Grace, the original director?” he asked, needing some clarity.

“No—” she said, shaking her head a bit. “It was the new one. I think she’s a friend of Grace’s or something. I can’t remember what she said”

Reign’s jaw clenched. This was unacceptable. “I need you to repeat everything you just told me, okay? I need to record it.”

She nodded, her eyes wide and trusting. As she recalled her experience, Reign pressed record on his phone, capturing every word and tremor in her voice. His mind was racing with plans. This new director needed to go.

But he hesitated to involve her parents. It felt selfish to keep this from them, but he wanted to handle it and protect her from any extra stress. He had seen the harm that could result from these situations before, and he didn't want her to bear the burden of the adult world's problems. She had been so excited to work under a magazine of her own...

As he finished recording, Reign felt a sense of responsibility settle on his shoulders. He would not let this escalate any further. He would fight for her safety and innocence at any cost. The industry already had enough shadows, it was time he shed light on the darkness that threatened those most vulnerable.

And he wouldn’t rest until he had secured her safety, one way or another.

****

Reign paced the small conference room, glancing at the girl sitting cross-legged on the couch, absorbed in her phone. The air was thick with pressure as her parents sat across from him, their faces a mix of concern and confusion.

"Thank you both for coming in," Reign began, trying to remain calm despite the anxiety churning in his stomach. “I wanted to discuss the incident at the shoot and what we need to do moving forward. I'm sorry this has turned into such a serious issue."

The mother leaned forward, her brow furrowed in concern. She question him. "What are you doing about it, Reign? I need to know you are taking this seriously. What is your plan?"

"I'm taking it very seriously." he said, matching her intense stare. "I have already consulted with our legal team. They're ready to take action if necessary, and I've spoken with several crew members who are willing to comment on the new director's behavior."

The father's face was a combination of confusion and concern. “Wait, why does it have to be that serious? It sounds like a few harsh comments from a director, right?” He ran his hand through his hair, clearly attempting to grasp the gravity of the situation, or what the situation was at all.

Reign felt an extreme feeling of frustration. “It’s not just a few comments. In this industry, comments can lead to unwanted advances and much worse situations. I can’t allow that to happen to your daughter. Her safety was and still is my top priority.”

The girl eventually looked up from her phone, her expression changing to one of concern. "Are you sure it has to be this serious?" she asked, her voice low and hesitant. "I mean, it sounds kind of… intense."

Reign's heart sank from her worry. He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice. "I understand why you might feel this way, but it is better to be safe than sorry. We cannot ignore any potential risks. It’s important to address this before it gets out of hand.”

The mother's expression softened as she saw the exchange. "I just want to keep her safe, but it feels like you're escalating this," she said, looking at her husband. "I need to know we can trust you, Reign. What if this blows up more than it needs to?”

Reign took a deep breath, his eyes serious as he met her stare. "It is better than nothing. I know it’s hard to trust me right now, but I care about your daughter’s well-being more than anything right now. I won’t let anything happen to her. This isn't just about the comments, it's about keeping her safe from any future threats."

The father seemed baffled still trying to understand the situation. "So, what exactly is the plan? I don’t want to feel like we’re overreacting, but I also don’t want to ignore a potential threat, as you said. How far are we going with this?"

"Okay, questions I can answer..." Reign replied with a steady tone as he went on "First, I'll contact the legal team to assess the situation fully. They will compile all of the statements and prepare any legal actions against the director. At the same time, I'll make sure she's safe during shoots, getting extra security if necessary, and I'll be replacing both directors fully."

The girl bit her lip, her gaze switching between her parents and Reign. "But what if it gets really complicated? I really don't want to be in the middle of a huge mess—

Reign gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “I just want you to finish your magazine shoot like you planned. You shouldn’t have to give up on your dreams because of someone else. I’ll handle everything and make sure you stay safe.”

The mother nodded, her expression relaxing as she thought about Reign's words. "Please keep us updated on everything. We need to be in the loop.”

"I will." Reign said, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. "You will not be left in the dark on this. I’ve got good lawyers ready to tackle this, and I’ll be covering all the bases. Just be there for her, and I will take care of the rest."

As the conversation came to a close, Reign felt an almost renewed sense of determination. He would defend her at all costs, ensuring that her dreams remained unchanged even with obstacles. The girl managed a small smile, her anxiety easing as she heard Reign's go on about the plan.

“I just want to do my best.” she said quietly, her confidence beginning to return.

“And you will.” Reign assured her. “With me in your corner, you won’t have to face any of this alone. Let’s focus on getting you back on that set doing what you love.”

****

A few weeks later, the air in Reign's office felt different. The old buzz of NumberWon had settled back into its usual rhythm after the whole ordeal with the creepy director, who was now officially blacklisted. Yet, a weight still hung over Reign as he sat at his desk, staring at the stupid award pin nestled in its box—a small token for “Outstanding Commitment to Client Safety.”

He rolled his eyes, a bitter smile forming on his lips. “What a joke.” he muttered to himself, lifting the box and letting it fall back onto the desk with a soft thud.

Just then, Donis popped his head into the office. “Hey, I got your usual… Will you finally let me in?”

“I guess.” Reign gestured in the empty office, his eyes still fixed on the award.

Donis stepped inside, placing the food on the desk as he sat down across from him, eyebrows raised at the sight of the pin. “Is that what I think it is?” He leaned in, squinting at the box. “An award for keeping kids safe? Cool!”

Reign chuckled but shook his head. “More like a reminder of how messed up things can get in this industry.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I’m glad the kid got some justice. But getting an award for something that shouldn’t even have happened feels… wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Donis crossed his arms, looking genuinely confused. “You did a good thing! You protected her from some creep. That’s something worth recognizing.”

“Yeah, but it’s stuff like this that makes me so strict about everything,” Reign explained, his voice growing heavier. "I have that creep director's name in my files, blacklisted, and ignored. It shouldn't be surprising that someone had to step in, but it is." He picked up the award again, staring at it as if it were the source of all his problems. Do you want it? "It is a stupid award."

Donis laughed lightly and shook his head. "No, you should keep it." It's a reminder that you care. "You care about justice, Reign."

"Yeah, I guess," Reign said, still unconvinced. He placed the award back in its box, a look of conflict on his face.

Donis leaned back in the chair and spoke in a more serious tone. “Look, man, it’s okay to be proud of what you did. Not everyone would go out of their way to ensure a child's safety. You took action when it mattered, and that’s what counts.”

Reign rubbed the back of his neck and finally looked up at Donis. "Maybe. But I wish it didn't have to be like this. I don’t want to be recognized for keeping someone safe because that means someone else was out to hurt them in the first place. My client, just a kid.”

"I get it." Donis replied, his voice softer now. "But you made a difference. You helped her when she needed it the most. Don’t let that go to waste by feeling guilty about it.”

Reign fell silent, considering Donis' words. He genuinely cared about the girl, about all of his clients, about justice. Perhaps the award was not a symbol of failure, but rather a reminder of what he fought for every day.

“I guess.”

“Oooh I forgot the drinks… I’ll go grab some from that cool new vending machine. You stay here!”

“As if I was going anywhere.”

As the door closed behind Donis, Reign let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He picked up the box again, staring at the pin, and for the first time, he felt a bit of pride…

[theprayerfulword]

August 14

Psalm 139:7 The psalmist wrote, “Where can I go from Your spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?”

Galatians 5:25 If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit.

Romans 4:21 And being fully persuaded that, what He had promised, He was able also to perform.

Isaiah 26:3 You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.

2 Samuel 22:31 As for God, His way is perfect; the word of the Lord is proven; He is a shield to all who trust in Him.

Psalm 31:19 Oh, how great is Your goodness, which You have laid up for those who fear You, which You have prepared for those who trust in You in the presence of the sons of men!

May you not grieve or weep when you hear the Word of the Lord and understand the meaning of it, but let the joy of the Lord be your strength. Nehemiah 8

May the Lord find your heart faithful to Him Who keeps His promises to you because He is righteous. Nehemiah 9

May you know that all who sow spiritual seed have a right to receive a material harvest, for if even the ox who treads the grain is not to be muzzled, how much more the servant of God should have the hope of receiving liberally from all who hear and benefit from their ministry? 1 Corinthians 9

Be glad in Me, My child, and rejoice in My work today. Acknowledge Me in all your ways, My love, and let My Word be in your mouth, and My praise upon your lips, wherever you go. What greater testimony can you carry with you to others than that of a present and visible joyous hope in Me, for which you can give an account at any time when someone I bring to you questions you on it? Do you recall when I comforted you in your sorrow and affliction, bearing the weight and lightening the load, speaking words of love and encouragement to your heart? Walk in that joy, My loving one, remaining ready and willing to share the reality of it with one who needs to hear what I can bring to their life, sharing My truth in gentleness and respect. Do you remember how you have been reconciled in your relationships, first with the Father above, through My love and sacrifice and then, as you walked with Me, with one after another of the people from your past? Exult in the knowledge that you have been given right-standing with God above, the faithful Judge, and rejoice in His acceptance of you in Me, for you no longer walk in the fear of retribution and punishment, and are free of the burden of guilt. Your face will be radiant and your step will be light as you dwell on this fact; others, still bound, will notice, and some will ask. Do not be reticent, My filled one, but let My love overflow and spill out, in meekness and tenderness. Rejoice in Me, My special one, as I enwrap you in the garments of salvation that I have prepared for you. Do not be bashful, My darling, but boast in what I have done for you, and proclaim My love with trust in your heart and a song in your mouth. There is no witness more effective than this.

May you put your hope in the Lord even as His unfailing love rests upon you. Psalm 33

May you wait in hope for the Lord, Who is your help and your shield, for you trust in His holy name as your heart rejoices in Him. Psalm 33

May you fear the Lord and hope in His unfailing love, for the eyes of the Lord are on you to deliver you from death and keep you alive in famine. Psalm 33

[astorythatwritesitself]

Hell why not I’ll roll again: shrios sorry brainrot + Only Poppies Grow Where I Last Saw You

Contemplating this as Halcyon plays, clearly this is supposed to be the angst mines, right?

... anyway this immediately puts me in the mind of my like - one of my little monkey's paw 'Thane Lives' scenarios for post ME3 - man's alive and well, but Adrian's.

Officially. MIA.

Realistically, presumed dead by virtually everyone except like a third of current/former Normandy crew, and Thane is... well, both channeling his grief and doing what he can to confirm things one way or another; he's on Earth, aiding the search for bodies, and perhaps, survivors. The blast from the Catalyst has severely fucked most tech, so it's a long, tricky job. Heartbreaking - but occasionally, almost miraculous, it can be like seeing the dead come back to life.

And yet he does not - cannot - believe the reports from a seaside camp, that they found Commander Shepard washed in with the tide.

That's what the dogtags say, anyway; and while lab tests against prior samples are a bust due to records getting scrambled, they do have both elder Shepards present to test DNA against, and it is a match. And - look, a full on clone couldn't fool Thane, he knows it's her.

Which, great! Cause that makes one of them!

Yeah, while there's a little bit of patchy recall - she recognizes her parents and Joker fairly ok & feels some empty recognition towards her crewmates- it's very quickly apparent that Adrian's lost most of her memory prior to like, her very early 20s. So, you know, very fun times for everyone involved, particularly the guy who's already been half mourning and trying not to totally lose himself in what memories were there - now she's there, but sees him as little more than a stranger. 🙃

And beyond that - the general consensus is, well, try to fix that, right? But there's a few members of the crew (Joker, Ashley & Tali, probably) who are hesitant - and Thane is trying to figure out how to articulate that forcing Adrian to remember would be straight up cruel, and yes it's painful but gods be damned, he loves her and knows what it's like to keep reliving the worst day of your life, if Shepard can finally have some peace, then let her.

Shepard, meanwhile, is like. Mostly focused on physically recovering and re-learning how to walk after having about half her body rebuilt again, and doesn't have any helpful answers regarding the mental part of her recovery. On the one hand: clearly she is Someone Important, these people hanging around seem to Mean Something, and even if she can't remember why... there's that hollow little ache every time she sees them, like taking a step without realizing you're going over an edge (to badly quote lemony snicket lol).

On the other: the bits she's picked up of Shepard's life sound like way more of a burden than she wants to bear. So, she politely yet firmly asks everyone to fuck the hell off for a little while and let her breathe for a few.

It could just end there...

but I'm a sucker lol. The setup lets Thane still be around as Adrian’s recovering, and as she has some time to just. Fucking rest for once without a bajillion nightmares, she decides... yeah, if things return naturally, fine, she'll take it. But if Shepard’s life was half as fucked up as it feels, just learning them as facts without the experience recall, she'd rather let that go.

That doesn't mean she's necessarily letting the people go, though; it becomes a sorta slice of life/recovery fic, Adrian slowly re-learning about the people in her life and how those relationships might or might not change -

But also a strange, sweet little journey with Thane. He remembers plenty of course, and tries to keep his distance at first because yeah he's alright at looking calm but internally his emotions are a wreck... but it's almost like the first time, quick talks that stretch a little longer, not-at-all subtle looks (Adrian may not recall much, but her tastes haven't changed & she's still weak for dark eyes and a cool coat lol); support when some things do start coming back - Akuze does return, a few scattered pieces through the first battle of the Citadel, some elements of Virmire - but relatively muted, compared to how they affected her before.

She never does remember their first courtship, but she likes spending time with Thane after all, especially once she's cleared to start getting some time outside - he's sweet, good to talk to, and she did very much appreciate that he seemed willing from the start to accept if she didn’t want to focus on recovering things. Idk man just increasing Soft moments, and yes it hurts Thane, knowing the Shepard who awoke him is essentially dead... but he's coming at it this time with a different perspective too, no longer expecting to die any time between now and next Tuesday, y’know? It's not like he's quite exactly the same man Shepard left on the Citadel.

So it's different - but maybe a bit of a gift, getting to fall in love all over again and dream of a future together from the very start.

[lacunasbalustrade]

I am reminded that you are offshoots of the same plant when you say such things, such things that would have touched me in another lifetime (all my past years are eons of space away, vast .distance)

they’re all desperate, and for the first time maybe I can see the true emotions that lie behind these words, easily said by you, yet upholding a ruthless amount of responsibility. If I accept these words, your heart, I can never give it back. you say such things and at first with the first shadow of you I thought it was an aura of overcoming adversity that you could make yourself so vulnerable.

now I know better, having met thousands of your ghosts and having loved every one of them. it is possible for a confession to be a burden only on the recipient, and all your confessions were a source of relief to you and only you.

when I tell the newest phantasm of you - he shares your mannerisms, yet insists he’s different - I tell him of your murder. How you killed me. He says he is not the same, damning his own admittance with it. How I wish he could see that I forgave you, and I still think of you dearly. I cherish the shared memories only your ghosts and I danced amongst, for him to say this is a denial that they will ever be back. Seeing you in him is half of the reason we began to know each other, why I even gave him a chance. It seems selfish, but still I know no one can ever intrude upon our halls of existence; the period I shared with you alone.

your newest ghost cannot feel the way our hands interlaced when we talked, the history behind bowls of spoon-fed porridge, and he does not know the meaning of the words he gives to me like sacks of bricks “I trust you.”

oh, for despite all our quarrels and problems, we were fond of one another. Ours was a familial affair that would never fade away. Even when we were arguing, you shone so bright that I was already forgiving you even though we kept bantering. We fit each other’s cracks so well that half the meaning of my life caved away into a collapsing cavern and I am now buried in the rubble.

I will never be whole without you.

I learnt how to easily sit beside a person and cry without shame because of you.

and I lost you.

what can he offer me besides the remnants of you?

it’s a slow, overarching grief. Not courtly, this kind of love takes no prisoners. There is simply cold metal truth against my forehead, goosebumps breaking out on my skin, and the endless bang of a gun firing.

how much longer will I be empty?

no, despite everything they gave me in remembrance of your name, all your possessions and their quiet whispers of our hearts held together by locks, they could never grasp the undeniable pain and simplicity that held me to you, even as ghost after ghost, I could not admit it out loud.

There, I have said it.

I loved you.

and over and over again, I lost you. Piece by piece, shard by shard, pencil by pencil, all of my drawing equipment swept out by the sea. I have nearly lost this ghost of yours as well, and he does not comprehend the meaning of everything you were to me, your heart now rests on my shoulders and mine shoulders alone, a dumbbell heavier than the sky. Atlas, come and swap your burden with me. You do not have to bear the cost of a price you never wanted to pay.

I choose another, over and over. He heals my being, every square foot of my heart, every notestaff of my soul, every inch of my mind.

BUT I HAVE STILL LOST YOU, AND I CANNOT BEAR TO LOSE THE HALF-PRESENCE OF YOUR GHOST, STRICKEN BY AMNESIA AND A REWRITING OF HIS FIRST FIFTY PAGES.

I told you to stop confessing in that subtle, silent way. You never listened, and that’s what cost you your place besides me. Can you not keep your words to yourself, and spare me the blood transferred between us? An inverse vampire, you bite and molecules of your life flow into my veins. I cannot recall a day you were not walking, translucent and statuesque, besides my gait. And with every new ghost, lighter and softer than the next, I feel my irises changing. Soon the world will bloom with petals even when they are veiled by skin and masks, and I will live in a waking dream of a wilting you.

am I worth the sacrifice of your life? my company cannot be so precious. and I cannot trust you to reply with anything sensible. love and distance has made prayers of us all.

live for something else, I want to say.

but how am I to do so?

you are already dead.

[grungeeuvu]

Hi hello <3

Thank you for making our day <3

Take this as a free pass to info dump ab anything you'd like :3 (not exactly in the post, but follow the sport not the word of the law <3333)

Glad you liked my ask!! :D

Im gonna go ahead and info dump about some ocs, so forgive me mutuals haha, I'll crop it dw

Anyways, below is the wip story of my ocs Isaac, Christopher and Robin. It's a looooooooooooooong document haha

WARNINGS AHEAD FOR S*ICIDE IDEATION THAT WON'T BE FULLY CENSORED i cant remember if that's a trigger for you, anx, so I'm warning you (and anyone else) here

tbh, anx, you may remember them a little from that server we're both on - i used to talk about them a lot in my channel before i kinda died and became inactive haha but THEY'RE BACK AND I LOVE THEM!!!!

This is going to be a liiiittle incoherent, simply because I'll be copypasting things over but I'm not very good at typing infodumps so please accept this haha

SO

we've got three brothers :)) Robin (13) and his older twin brothers, Isaac (16m, older twin) and Christopher (16m, younger twin)

Some photos/art for ref :)) Ftr, Christopher is also a massive redhead, like his twin, but for reasons I am about to explain, he dyes his hair brown at the beginning. Here's a colour of his two hair colours, in case that helps!! it's just a digital version of the headshot above but it looks very nice imo sooooo....

The brothers are orphaned - when the twins were barely two and Robin still a baby, they appeared on the steps of a foster care group home in the middle of the night. Despite police investigation into their heritage lasting for years, to the point where they tested the children's DNA, no blood relations could be found, alive or dead. At first, the brothers were raised in the group home due to the investigations taking place but, once the investigation is over, they still stay a little longer bc the workers are worried about separating them so soon, especially due to how attached the twins are to each other and Robin.

Sadly, this is the fatal flaw. Things begin to go very wrong in their relationship from this point on.

Isaac has very good memory and is able to recall absurdly specific events from ages ago: one of these memories is the memory of their parents waking them up late at night, a long journey, and then being left at the foster home. No one else remembers this and he ended up having every aspect of it questioned and drilled by investigators to the point he could recite it in his sleep. The fact no one else can remember this makes him feel isolated in his grief and then angry: why should he have to bear the burden of these final moments? why did he have to remember being abandoned? His mind is torn between old, comfortable memories of parents long ago, their betrayal and then the intimidating interrogation from police officers, and this only makes him furious. None of his brothers will know what he remembers, no matter how hard they try, it is a burden only he can carry alone. This feeling of isolation makes him grow angry and bitter. He starts distancing himself from not just his brothers but people in general about the age of six. Any foster home he gets put into, he's standoffish and avoidant at best, or aggressive and runs away at worst. Before he's even turned nine, they decide it's best to keep him in the foster care home until he 'levels out'. He's stayed in the group home since he was about eight and a half.

Christopher was doing alright until Isaac began to distance himself and cut him out. Almost immediately after their relationship suffered, Christopher's mental state took a huge blow. He'd stop talking entirely to people and would try hide away from mealtimes so he wouldn't have to see anyone. Out of concern for his mental health, he was kept in the group home, in his own room, while Isaac was being put in foster homes. The carers tried to keep Robin with him as best as possible so they'd bond but a flip had turned in Christopher's head. At age 9, he tried to run away in the middle of the night and get onto a road. Thankfully, someone saw him and called the police, sending him back. After that he was put through a lot of therapy sessions that he didn't really interact with, meaning he was now distanced from his brothers further. No one ever told Robin about the therapy or mental health issues. When Isaac returns permanately to the group home, the twins are made to share a room. Their relationship is permanently estranged. Through all this, Christopher ends up developing a lot of depression and anxiety, making him retreat further into a bubble until all most people can perceive is apathy.

Meanwhile, we have Robin. Too young to remember their parents and without Isaac's sharp memory, he only really recalls the group home. His earliest memories are of the twins loving and caring for him, but the next thing he knows is that neither talk to him. Like Isaac, he develops abandonment and rage issues, but they manifest differently. Isaac's rage and hatred is in the form of vitriol and cruel words - he's perfected the sneer+silent treatment -, whereas Robin comes out in shouting and trying to fight. He's younger and more emotional and, since no one really tells him shit, he's simply just really confused. For similar reasons to the twins, he isn't allowed to leave the group home either, and gets a room to himself (very small repurposed office) at the age of ten.

SO NOW WE'VE ESTABLISHD THAT THEYRE ESTRANGED, TIME FOR BEGINNING DYNAMICS!

ROBIN + ISAAC: They do not get along. Isaac, due to remembering being left, blames a lot of it on Robin, for an array of reasons (Robin caused financial issues, Robin was too much to look after, etc. He has no evidence for any of these claims but just wants something to blame it on). He thinks Robin is childish and stupid, so wastes little time on him. Robin views Isaac with a sense of hurt + fury: since Isaac was the eldest, he used to look up to him when they were growing up until he finally figured out Isaac was relentlessly cruel to him for no reason. He felt betrayed by this and bitterness turned to loathing. He argues with Isaac over nothing to try and prove a point, but this only increases Isaac's belief that he's stupid and immature.

ROBIN + CHRISTOPHER: There is a void where their relationship should be. They never spoke much as children, esp after Christopher began to go through confidential therapy. Robin's pissed about how all of Christopher's popular friends would bully him and Christopher, even when there, did nothing but watch. Meanwhile, Christopher doesn't know what to do with Robin - he's old enough now to want to reconnect but feels he's destroyed his own bridges long ago and can't figure out what to do about it. He has no idea what Robin likes/dislikes and deems it best to ignore these problems instead of addressing them, so they can remain in this bubble where Robin is 'happier' without his input. When Isaac and Robin fight, Christopher either leaves the room or just half-watches while on his phone: he's too scared of confrontation to stop the fight and feels none of them like him enough to care: he's partially convinced that they don't view him as their brother.

ISAAC + CHRISTOPHER: Used to be very close, due to being twins, but quickly fell apart when their mental issues played up and Isaac has to leave. When he returned, they'd both changed so much that they both saw the other as 'not who he used to be' and either despised it (Isaac) or wallowed in self-imposed grief over it (Chirstopher). As they got older, Isaac cut himself off from his peers, staying inside to play video games, and Christopher became popular, falling into crowds of people for some kind of social connection he was never brave enough to properly make. Although they share a room at the orphanage, they rarely talk to each other aside when it's necessary. They don't hate each other but they treat each other more as acquaintances than identical twins. However, after witnessing Christopher's suicide attempt at the age of 10 (nothing happened ftr, Isaac walked in on Christopher standing on a chair with a noose. they stared at each other then both silently packed everything away, never speaking a word of it again), Isaac is convinced it's his fault Christopher wants to die and believes he carries blame for it (this isn't true). While on the surface they seem fine, both are scared of addressing their issues or bringing up the trauma of their pasts, leaving their relationship half-solved and emotionally soulless.

Above is an ANCIENT robin and isaac comic from all the way back in 2022 - first comic i ever drew, fun fact :)) it's shit but I'm still fond of it!! planning to remake it one day :D

This isn't plot related, it's just a song analysis i did for Christopher back in 2022 which i still think about regularly :))

Be Nice To Me The Front Bottoms - annotated by Book One Christopher

I got boulders on my shoulders Collarbones begin to crack -Christopher slowly breaking under the pressure of being in a new world There is very little left of me And it's never coming back -This relates to how much he twisted himself to fit into the mould the popular people wanted, despite how much it killed him There are certain things you ask of me And there are certain things I lack In the beginning, we were winning But now I'm just making up facts -Him to Isaac: they used to be so close but not anymore and he has no idea what to do about it, except for pretending it's fine

What's it matter anymore? If you believe the lies I tell -Christopher feels like he doesn't need to seek help for his mental health if everyone believes he's fine and he digs himself a deeper hole There's no meaning to the words But we still sing these songs well If we all left it alone I'm sure it'd work itself out fine -Christopher's avoidance problem with his twin, his attitude of "if we don't address the distance and differences, they don't exist" We keep playing with the numbers We are running out of time We are running, we are running

But you're a killer And I'm your best friend -Christopher knowing how Isaac's so cruel, especially to Robin, and letting him get away with it Think it's unfair, your situation -Him scared to shout at Isaac bc he knows where he's coming from and what he remembers You say I'm changing Sorry, I didn't know I had to stay the same -Christopher dealing with Isaac's brutality with apology and sidestepping the problems Could we talk about this later? Your voice is driving me, driving me insane -Him just wanting to run away from it all and never have to bother with the stress Isaac puts on him when he lashes out

Well, I try to write you poems, but the words, they don't make sense -Christopher to Robin, struggling to express his sentiment and love My hand tries to grip the pencil, but the fingers are too tense -He tries to apologise to Robin but feels like he physically can't And I try to show emotion, but my eyes won't seem to wet -Him struggling to show even an ounce of emotion to Robin, despite caring about him a lot And I'd love to tell you stories, but I can't remember how they went -He wants to be there for him but, every time he tries, he messes up or fails one way or another, or just thinks he hasn't done it right You're a flashlight in a dark room for the loneliest blackout You were all we had left after it all was filtered out -Christopher views Robin so highly, despite the groggy and miserable world the three live in. He believes Robin is his and Isaac's greatest gift, even though he knows he's ruined it Turn you on in a dark room right before we both pass out Turn you on when I need you, but the batteries ran out -How he feels like he ignored Robin and, now even if he needs him, if he tried to talk to him he feels like Robin wouldn't respond or even care to look at him

They ran out and you're a werewolf and I'm a full moon -He knows Robin's angry and that his apparent apathy doesn't help, only firing his brother up more And all your very worst enemies will be gone soon -He knows Robin views him as an enemy and this is Christopher thinking over the suicide he wants so badly to commit I think you're changing Don't worry, you don't gotta stay the same -His desperateness to seem supportive to Robin, even if Robin's being self-destructive with his rage Could we talk about this later? Your voice is driving me, driving me insane -Robin's hostility and cruel words slowly making Christopher crumble and break down

ANYWAYS!!! i wont add anymore haha i feel bad for how long this is :')) TYSM FOR THE ASK!! IT MADE MY DAY!!

Maybe one day i'll put the plot down but for now, you just get the set up haha

[ventisehe]

crying on their wedding day / genshin impact / part one

this was a request from my old account and i am only transferring it here. there is a part two to this but i got busy with school and organizing my new account, as well as thinking over deleting my old account.

since bennett is fifteen or sixteen, his part will be a little different from the others. with aether, he is hundred years old so his part if just like the rest. this is unedited and i wrote it at night when i was supposed to be farming so please bear with me hehe.

requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro

includes: diluc, zhongli, childe/tartaglia, aether, bennett

warning: unedited, not proofread

part two

THOSE WHO WOULD SHED A SINGLE TEAR

     DILUC

       After losing his father and his horrible fall out with Kaeya, Diluc has become a firm believer that a man can truly live as an island, to some extent. As much as possible, he kept to himself and worked alone. Having people share his burdens with him did not appeal to him. In fact, it miffed him, as it made him feel indebted to them.

          He limited his interaction with everyone, especially those who are part of the Knights of Favonius, favoring solitude above else. But of course, this did not entail bad social ethics to others.

    He treated his maids and employees with civility and respect, the same can be said with his patrons whenever he worked behind the counter (it would certainly be bad for his business if he behaved aloof to them) and those he was once close friends with. He always behaved appropriately to them, although he must admit he can be quite insulting to the Knight, he always stood behind an invisible barrier, careful not to cross it and grow attached to anyone.

        He has long given up with amorous relationships. After all, what good would he be as a lover if he could not provide his woman the love and care she deserved? Surely, he cannot let a maiden suffer with his inadequacy as a potential husband. He is aware of how hectic his schedule is (he hardly has enough time for himself so spending time with his lover would be proven difficult) and how poorly he expresses his feelings, thoughts, and emotions. In a relationship, in marriage, communication is the key for it to be successful, and already then, he has failed. He may be a cold man at first glance, but he will not put a woman in s distressing dilemma, not intentionally anyway.

                    Being the richest man in Mondstadt and being considered attractive by many, Diluc was not foreign to having women throw themselves at him, attempting to seduce him. If maintaining a relationship with a woman with his current tribulations was hard, finding a woman who truly love and understand him was even harder. He has no means of deciphering who were pure with their intentions and those who sought him for his money and influence.

     And he accepted his fate without easily, without question. This was the way it was supposed to be in the first place. Diluc Ragnvindr - a lone man, who lived in too big mansion, sleeping on a bed too big for him. It was all he knew. The bright days of his childhood long forgotten.

    But then you came to his life so suddenly.

                          "Master Diluc," Began Jean, a polite smile over her lips. "This is ( Your Name )".

              All it took was for you to give him shy smile to have his walls broken down, and for his heart to yearn for what he has resolutely denied himself of for years. And it twisted him, and not in a way he welcomed.

          Diluc tried so damn hard to push you away. He avoided your presence, and made it his point to show you he wanted nothing to do with you, and made no attempt to cover it and ignored how his heart broke every time your smile fell. He resolutely refused to yield to your sincere advances.

                                     He treated you the same way be treated everyone, to show you how you were no different from everyone. You were just another dot in his life waiting to be erased and thrown in the back of his mind.

                                                       But the harder he pushed, the harder you pulled. In his brightest days and in his darkest days, you have never strayed far and welcomed him with open arms. You always went out of your way for him.

          It was hard not to fall in love with you? Why did you have to make things so difficult?

                        It wasn't too long until he was falling asleep in his bed with you in his embrace, his heart feeling light, warm and content. He hasn't feel like this in a long time - safe, and at home. Diluc found home from someone he tried to push away.

                                      The horror of what could have happened if he had been successful weighed down on him, and it took quite an assurance from you to make him remember that he has failed, and you were his, as he was yours.

                          Back then, he thought your persistence was bothersome. But as he stood at the altar right now, watching you enter with your white wedding dress, he was grateful you never gave up on him.

Diluc cannot describe how beautiful you looked as you graced everyone in the place with your presence.

Your eyes locked with him, and his heart soared in his chest. And when you smiled at him, an excited gleam in your eyes - he cannot help but smile back.

Time cannot be any slower, and the aisle cannot be any longer. And have you always walked this slow? Or were you just teasing him?

Diluc's breath hitched - Perhaps you knew how much he wanted to get this over with so he can have you all to himself in the comfort of his room.

And when he saw you smiling mischievously at him, he knew that he was right.

His words failed to describe how beautiful you looked. His words failed the joy he was feeling. May Barbatos have mercy on him

But the tear that escaped the corner of his eye explained everything.

"Oh, what is this?" His best man whispered beside him, a teasing tone lacing his voice. "Master Diluc is crying. Why, I never thought I'd see the day."

Diluc shot him a glare. "Do not make me regret making you my best man, Kaeya."

Kaeya laughed. "Ah, ah, ah," He chimed. "Your wife won't be pleased if we fight at your wedding day."

A warm and pleasant feeling coursed through him. His wife.

"She's not my wife yet." Said Diluc.

Kaeya looked at you as you walked down the aisle. "And in just a few minutes, I'll have two Ragnvindr to annoy." He patted his brother on the back, smiling a genuine smile for the first time. "Congratulations, Diluc."

     ZHONGLI

       Zhongli, or Rex Lapis for that time, has watched over Teyvat for thousands of years and has witnessed firsthand how kings and tyrants rose and fell, how kingdoms were born, how camaraderie are conducted, how romance makes a man foolish and blinded, how society flourished in the hands of mortals as Archons guarded them from their resting place, and throughout the tales of humans, his eyes has laid upon many beauties.

                   But you? Oh, even the most esteemed bard of all realms could never bring the satisfactory glory to your name and pulchritude.

            How dearly Zhongli missed the unspeakable power, money and authority he had back before he revoked his own position as a deity, keeping a close eye over Liyue and his people. But if ever presented with the opportunity to return to his rightful place as part of the Seven, he shall graciously decline, casting his gaze away and simply returning to your side.

                               After all, what benefit would he gain from it when he already has his heart is content in the possession of a mere mortal, a mortal he loved and adored. He would dream of ever choosing his old power over you, and that can be affirmed when he asked for your hand as the two of you took an evening stroll outside Liyue.

                 He has fallen for you and he cannot rise again. A gentle and kind woman with an understanding and patience which knows no bounds. If not for his revelation that he has accomplished all his duties and has come to decide to resign from his reign, your existence may be another reason for him to take the form or a mortal and ask for your hand.

                      He can still recall that faithful day when he first met you at the harbor. He stood by a high balcony, overlooking Liyue Harbor with arms crossed. The sun beat down against Liyue grounds and his skin, but it also casted an ethereal glow on you as you exited one of the ships that stopoed at the docks. And may he boldly say the sun was outshined that day, and his heart has been taken.

                                         Zhongli can only imagine how many men has chased after you, but failed to woo you.

                   Zhongli understood the concept of love. After all, Liyue and every living being that sought shelter in its walls were close to his heart, but never in his life has he felt the way he felt for you. It was the sort of phenomena he observed between lovers for centuries - unconditional love and care, a sanctuary in the arms of their beloved, an individual to trust and come home to whether the day has been kind or unkind.

           What he thought were trivial matters and the means of mortals for survival he has tasted its sweet flavor, and it was by your hand did he receive it. And he was thankful that you have found him worthy of being with you, and soon, being one with him in the contract of marriage.

And thus came the faithful day, the very day he longed to come ever since you have accepted him as your husband to be, and the day you have dreamt of every night you laid with him.

Zhongli counted the months, weeks, days, and if he had the ability to, minutes until the day of your wedding. He has a calendar in his room and everyday, he enthusiastically crossed out every passing day, watching as his wedding with you grow closer.

And when it finally arrived, Zhongli followed a meticulous routine to prepare himself, using expensive oils and perfume to which the Fatui money has provided splendidly. After all, he wanted to look the best he can for you. You deserved only the best of things, and he shall not hold back on anything to please you.

Though Zhongli, most of the time, was a calm man even under the eye of tribulations, when he stood at the altar in front of his close friends and colleagues, he can't help but feel anxious.

Of course he has no doubt in your love for him. He holds on your every word of love and affection as true, and his love for you was as hard as stone. Rather, it was he who doubted himself and his capabilities.

He wondered if he would be able to take care of you, love you the way you should be, bring a smile to your lips, and a laugh out of your mouth. If he had been Rex Lapis still, he would have easily uphold his duties as your husband. After all, what can an Archon not do?

It would be Childe, his best man, who would console him. He would tell Zhongli he is more than capable to care for you. He has a stable job (not to mention his connection with the Fatui), he was eager to please you and give you about everything if he can, he has a kind heart, he was a man who can manage his time wisely and never choose his profession over you, and above all, he loved you. Not many men can afford the luxury of being this perfect, but Zhongli was no man, not originally at least.

He will be unconvinced of what Childe has said. This unease in him was hard to diminish. Not being enough for you will tear him apart. The thought of it just gnawed at him. Will he make you happy? Will you regret marrying him when you realized life married to him wasn't as you expected?

It was only when the doors opened, and his wide and anticipative eyes darted over to the other end of the place did every little doubt in his mind is erased.

You stood by the entrance wearing the white dress you have fought hard not to show him until this day.

That bright smile on your face, those eyes that shimmered at the sight of him, the faint red on your cheeks - Zhongli did not even notice how love stricken he looked, and nor did he notice a tear cascade from corner of eye.

It was only when Childe stifled a laugh and pointed it out did he feel the dampness at the side of his face.

He forgot how to breathe when you finally stood before him. Even a veil cannot conceal your beauty.

With twinkling eyes, you smiled at him - like he was the only person in the room.

"Are you crying?" You ask playfully.

Zhongli will let out a chuckle, and as he take your hands in his, he said, "In such a beautiful day like this with the loveliest lady in Teyvat before me, how can I not?"

Indeed it was a beautiful day, made better when your lips met his.

He can't stop a few more tears from slipping.

THOSE WHO WOULD BAWL THEIR EYES OUT

     CHILDE/TARTAGLIA

                 Childe understood his duties as a Harbinger even if his playful and flirtatious facade may say otherwise. He kissed hands of women and paid them golden compliments until their mind went hazy with his feigned affection, but he was still a Fatui at the end of the day - a ruthless and greedy scoundrel who had too much Mora in his hands.

              And it was because of his line of work that he decided never to commit himself. If he was to find himself infatuated with a woman and she reciprocated his feelings and desired to pursue a relationship with him, it would inevitably drag her to the dangers entailed to his position.

                                       The last thing he wanted was someone to dear to him to be harmed, not to mention his lover could become his weakness, she could be taken by his enemies and be used against him, thus, making things more complicated and harder for him to fulfill his duties to the Tsaritsa.

             To him, nothing is more important than seeing through his mission with the finest quality of work he can give.

                   So damn you for coming into his life and distracting him. Damn you for bringing another bright to his life. Damn you for taking care of his family when he was gone. Just - damn you for making him fall for you.

      He hated this - the feeling of being weak, of being vulnerable, of laying his guard down. One touch from you and he's no better than the people he despised for being so frail and powerless.

                                              How ever do you possess this prowess to make him so dependent on you, to relish in your voice when you sing to him as the two of you laid together in his bed, how he let his defenses crumble when you whisper his name, the tug of his heart when you he sees you getting along so well with his family.

                          Childe wanted you. He wanted you more than anything and anyone in Teyvat. He was going crazy thinking about you.

             He refused to acknowledge his feelings at first, thinking perhaps he can use you to comfort him and his family in these troubling times. That's all you were supposed to be, a tool for him to make his family feel better whenever he goes off to accomplish his work as a Harbinger.

                              But he couldn't stomach the thought of using you like that. He didn't want you to treat like a toy. And it did not help that one day, when he was returning from a mission, you come rushing to him and blurting out your feelings and your worry for his safety.

               You loved him. Did he hear you right? You love a Fatui, and a Harbinger, no less. Surely, you aren't that stupid to fall for him.

     And yet he smiled a sincere smile at your confession, and he too followed your steps. That night, he was at his weakest. Just relishing in your arms and ridding all the responsibilities over his shoulders. He can forget all his faults for a moment, with you. A peace of mind and heart was found in you.

     Childe watched as you played with his fingers, and then he spoke. “Aren’t you afraid?”

       You hummed. “Afraid? Of what?”

                   Childe shook his head and held your hand which toyed with his digits. You looked up at him, puzzled.

              “Of me.” Said Childe, pulling your hand and holding it close to his chest. He closed his eyes, almost terrified of what your answer can be. “Of what I can bring to your life. I’m a Harbinger, [ Your Name ]. Your life is at stake just being with me. Do you know what you’re in for for loving me?”

                        You gazed at him, and he can’t see anything in your eyes. He let out a small gasp when you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

            “I’m not afraid of you or anything this world can throw at me.” You confessed. “You’re going to protect me, Tartaglia. I know you will. I trust you. I love you.”

                            And fucking hell, did he protect you.

                                          He tried to hide you from his fellow Harbingers, and especially to his enemies. Not because they will use you to get the upper hand against him, a leverage. No, he wanted to hide you, as long as he can anyway (because it won't be long until his secret is out, walls do have ears), to protect you. No one will lay a hand or even get a single strand of your hair. May the Archons have mercy on anyone who dares put you in the middle of the dangers of his job, because he surely won't.

Because of this, you and Childe decided to get married in secret, with no one else but Zhongli, the traveler, and their floating companion to be your witnesses in becoming one. The two of you knew well of the consequences your decision shall birth, but it's the one you're making. Nothing in this can stop Childe from making you his wife, and treating you as such.

Childe could not wait for the ceremony to begin. Even with such a small crowd - very small indeed - he did not hold back to make this day special for you. The finest of everything is what you deserved, and if he could give more, he would. But for now, all he can give you is himself, and he dearly wished he was enough.

The whole time, as he waited for you to emerge from the doors of the small cathedral the two of you chose to be wed in, he kept imagining how his life would be like with you.

Waking up beside you was the thing he looked forward to the most. When the sunrays peeked from closed curtains and cascaded down your slumbering form, a gentle and even breaths leaving your lips, a soft expression of rest - the thought of it filled his heart with warmth, a kind of warmth only you can evoke from him.

Waking up at your side on his bed always reminded him thst you were indeed there, and his. Soon, he'll be waking up beside you with a soft smile on his lips, a reminder that you were there, but now as his wife.

Childe never really considered him emotional. It was part of his discipline as a Harbinger never to let his emotions get the better of him. But when you stepped into the cathedral wearing the wedding dress you personally chose and had hidden from him for so long, a veil over your face but the soft smile still just as bright as the morning sun, it all came crashing down to him.

Childe wanted a lot of things in life. But what he wanted the most was to spend the rest of his life with you - providing for you, protecting you, comforting you, falling deeper in love with your every single day. All this he will do until his dying breath, and he knew you'd do the same.

His dream was walking towards him, never taking her eye off him as she approached the altar.

He can hear Paimon clapping and the Traveler reprimanding her for being a little too loud. He can hear Zhongli saying something to him but he couldn't understand a word he said. But he was too lost in his realization that you're going to marry him.

You chose him, a man with too many faults and imperfections.

Just as you arrived at the small steps leading towards the altar, the tears Childe has been trying to hold back streamed down his face, small hiccups escaping his lips.

You stared at him, worried. "Tartaglia, are you alright?"

Childe would try to formulate an answer but through his tears and hiccups, he couldn't make a single comprehensible word. His posture was regal and proper, as though he was trying to fool everyone that he wasn't crying.

How can you ask if he was alright? How can his heart handle how beautiful you looked right now?

"Excuse me, ( Your Name )," Zhongli interjected as he stepped beside Childe. "It seems that your soon to be husband needs a moment to collect himself. Please, excuse us."

Zhongli led Childe back to his room, and the Harbinger did not fight back. He was still crying even when the doors has closed behind him. Zhongli stood by the door, watching the Fatui sit on his bed, trying to stop himself from bawling.

Childe can feel guilt crawling up to him as he realized what he had done. What was supposed to the most perfect day, your most perfect day, was ruined because of him.

He was scared to think what you thought of him now. Were you resenting him for what happened? Did you still wish to marry him?

If only he had controlled his emotions much better. He shouldn't have let his joy break through him in tears.

"She was crying too, you know," Spoke Zhongli.

Childe raised his head to look at the former Archon. "Huh?"

"Your bride, she - " He smiled at him. " - she was crying too. She's happy to be marrying you."

Childe can feel his heart hammering against his chest in delight at what he said.

"So don't keep her waiting."

Childe bawled his eyes out once more when the words - "I do," - left your lips.

     AETHER

                 When his sister was taken from him, Aether was a lost and wandering soul in Teyvat with the sole purpose of finding her.

              Throughout his journey, he met different people from different regions. He learned their values and cultures, he grew to love the world he used to be a stranger to, he was able to utilize different sorts of Visions, and yet, despite all of this, Aether was lonely. Paimon - bless her pure soul - tried her best to keep his spirits and bring a smile to his face (he assumed she too felt the hollowness inside of him) but it was all futile as he often find himself seeking solitude and gazing out in an open field wondering where his twin could be and how she was fairing on her own.

                He will let the cool breeze comfort him, but all it left was a searing kiss of reality that his search might have been all for naught. That very concept his mind was conjured haunted him in his every waking days. Is he still journeying through Teyvat and reaching out to all Archons with a solid purpose? Was he no wasting his time looking high and low for someone who could not be looking at the sky as he?

                     "And what if she is?"

                                     Your words is what got his attention. Aether met you in the evening when the stars and the moon was absent from the skies. He sat on a fallen log overlooking the city of Mondstadt, alone and cold. Paimon has insisted in him accompanying him, but he had snuck away before she can chase after him. He needed to be alone with his thoughts, and with the scarce time he has for himself, he has to make the most of every night that comes.

                 Lumine was in his mind, and worry was gnashing its teeth at him. He was deep in his own world, sinking to the hands of his tragic thoughts, that he did not hear footsteps trekking the hillock he was at. Nor did he realize he was speaking his own worries in the air, eyes distant and staring blankly at nothing.

       "What if she's not even looking for me?" That's what he remembered saying that time.

                                       Then you made your presence known with an answer that refuted his initial thought. He whirled his head to the side, wide eyes with surprise. You stood next to him with a faint smile, hands behind your back and the moon slowly peeking from the shroud of clouds. A light in the darkness, the moon was. And so you were you to him.

                "Sorry," You apologized, sheepishly giving him a smile as you rubbed the back of your neck. "I didn't mean to interrupt. You were speaking out loud and-and I just had a feeling I needed to say something." You took in a deep breath, and Aether found the pink dusting your cheeks adorable. "I . . . I'll just go now - "

              Aether didn't regret asking you to stay.

                                   Before you came to his life, Aether did not know how much he was dwelling in the own hell he made. His inner tribulations, his worries, his insecurities - he only took notice the torture he was putting on himself when you keep saving him from his own mind.

                   At first, all he thought of you was a precious friend - someone he leaned on and entrusted with everything, whether it be secrets or help with his quests. He told you about his past, his twin, how exactly he was different from the people of Teyvat, how he and sister fought an unknown god, how she slipped from his fingers when he reached out for her, how much he wanted her back. He was terrified of what you may think of him when he told you these things, but to his surprise, all you did was wrap him in your arms and comforted him.

                                      Along with Paimon, you were his dearest friend.

             But as time passed, the longer you accompany him and Paimon in his travels, he noticed something strange. The way his heart skipped a beat when you smile at him, how he can't keep his eyes off you when you laugh at one of his tales, how his heart hammered ceaselessly when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek, the relief that seeps in his system when he sees you unscathed from a battle, how irritated he becomes when someone makes an offense against you, the joy that seizes him when he listens to you talking about something you loved, and how much he adored it when you scold him for being a little too reckless in fighting.

                           Aether, despite being older than he seems, did not know what to make of what he was feeling. It was strange, a good kind of strange - the kind of feeling that makes him feel like he was floating in the sky. All he thought of it was an overwhelming adoration for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

                  It wasn't until Paimon pointed it out did he realize what he was feeling for you.

                                           Upon learning his feelings for you, Aether couldn't sleep for many nights. He was plagued with the desires of his heart and his insecurities. It was like falling back to the same hellish pattern before you came along.

              He was in this world for one reason only - to find his twin. And when he does - and he fucking will - he will depart from here with her and continue their travels. Leaving you was the last thing he wanted. He couldn't bear the thought of it. It felt like leaving a piece of him behind in Teyvat, a hole in the shape of your name.

                            The solution he had for this is directly confessing to you. Of course, the blond was a nervous wreck when he approached you and asked for a moment of your time. Paimon knew of his plan and wandered away for the time being, wanting to give the two of your privacy.

              If you did not share the same feelings as he, he can already imagine the pain he will have to deal with, but it'll be much easier to leave. At least then he knows you won't be as hurt as he thought once he takes his leave. He never entertained the idea of you reciprocating his feelings. It would be foolish to - surely you can't find anything appealing with someone like him ; to which you rendered him speechless and a bumbling mess when you pressed your lips against his when he was in the middle of his confession.

                                 Aether shouldn't be this happy with you. He loved you too much to see you hurt when he tells you that he must leave. He was not welcome in this world, he was an outsider, a being not under the authority or influence of any Archons.

     But still, he spent months loving you, caring for you, doing anything to come back to you no matter what is thrown at him. He loved having you in his arms when you slept, he loved watching the stars with you at night, he loved you even with the inevitable arguments you two have - Aether was utterly and hopeless in love with you.

                     And thus, he decided to tell you what will happen after he finds his sister.

                      He knew he would be heart broken in seeing you cry, but it hurt more to see you smile at to him so genuinely and embraced him, saying, "You used to doubt you'll ever find your sister. It broke my heart everyday seeing you so hopeless, and I - " You composed yourself, shaking your head as your tried to gather your thoughts. " - now look at you," You cupped his cheek, the corners of your eyes wrinkling as your smile broadened. "I always knew the day will come when you have to leave me. When you told me you weren't from this world, I knew then I'll have to let go of you someday. But until that day comes - Aether - "

               What a shock it came to him when you got down on one knee and presented to him a glittering ring - there was unconditional love and hope in your eyes. It was like looking back at his reflection. "Marry me, Aether, let me make you happy for the rest of the days we still have remaining until you leave."

                                   Aether can never say no to you.

To his surprise, Master Diluc has already agreed to host your wedding at Dawn Winery. Aether was puzzled as to why he seemed unsurprised by the news of his engagement with you, and the Claymore wielding male answered, "( Your Name ) came to me for help when she planned to propose to you."

Aether knew Diluc, as much as possible, wanted to be alone. A lone wolf, he was. But with gratitude for what he has done, he asked him to be his best man. Diluc was startled by this requests but obliged. The red head might not show it but he was immensely flattered by Aether asking him to be his best now (and now time to subtly show it off to Kaeya).

At the day of the wedding, contrary to what he thought he would feel, Aether woke up with his an ache in his chest. He found himself looking out the window of his room, torn between his happiness and sorrow.

In a few hours, Aether will be able to adorn a ring on your finger, symbolizing your promises with one another. He shall be granted the sole blessing of calling your his wife. It was something he was looking forward to - seeing you in your wedding dress, watching as you walk down the aisle -

But Aether's mind kept drifting back to his sister - She would have wanted to be here. He thought.

Aether felt like he was committing a crime when he decided to take a walk just hours before his wedding. But he needed to clear his mind. Lumine never left his mind. He always thought that they would always be there for one another, or at least in big moments like this.

And yet she was still nowhere to be seen.

Is she still alive? Have I been wasting time? Is she still in danger? Is she lost in Teyvat as well?

"Didn't expect to run into you here."

His body tensed when he heard your voice, and he twirled around only to have his breath taken away.

You stood before him in the white dress he had longed to see ever since you proposed to him. He thought he would see a frown on your face, dismayed for his impromptu walk, but you wore a soft smile - a soft and understanding smile.

Aether did know what to say to you. He just stared at you, overwhelmed.

He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't say anything. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed.

You approached him and kissed his cheek. He hummed in delight, eyes closing. "I hope you're not having second thoughts on marrying me." You told him.

Aether was quick to respond. He took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. He looked into your eyes with affirming hues, "There is nothing I'm more sure of than marrying you."

You beamed at him. Seeing your face brighten up is always a beautiful sight for Aether, and it was enough for him to feel enlightened in the midst of his internal crisis.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Of course you can already tell something is bothering him. Aether shook his head. He has already ruined a small part of what is supposed to be a perfect day, he can't risk another mistake.

"I'm not going to push you to tell me anything." You stated.

Aether smiled. "Thank you." He replied. He gazed at you for a little while, taking you in. "Why are you out here anyway? And in your wedding dress too."

Your eyes widened and you looked down to assess his evaluation. "Oh Archons," You mewled. "I forgot I was wearing this." You let out a groan. "Great, now my surprise is ruined. I won't be able to see you cry when you see me walk down the aisle."

He laughed a little. "But still happy as ever to see you." He said. "So why are you outside?"

"Just . . . " You began, and Aether can detect a hint of nervousness in your voice. " . . . picking some flowers."

"I thought we already ordered flowers." Aether thought, frowning. "Did someone forget to deliver the flowers? I can call someone if - "

"No, I just wanted to pick some flowers, randomly. Like how you wanted to take a walk, randomly."

He looked at you with hesitant eyes. He didn't believe you. There was something hidden behind your motive to be out here. But like how you didn't press him with what was the problem, he did the same for you.

"Okay," He breathed out. "What flowers did you pick then?"

Aether's breath hitched when you pulled out a bundle of Windwheel Asters and several more flowers that was all too familiar with him.

He stared at the white flowers that combined with your Windwheel Asters, the very flowers that he remembered adorned his sister's hair.

"Aether? Aether are you okay?"

He stared at you with glistening eyes, his heart blossoming with adoration and gratitude. Without even meaning to, you managed to make everything alright.

"Yeah," He smiled at you. "I'm okay."

Aether thought when he stood at the altar, he would have Diluc trying to soothe his nerves as his insecurities slowly sink in his mind. But it didn't happen. Diluc merely stood by him with a relaxed expression, glancing at him every now and then.

"You don't look nervous at all." Diluc remarked.

Aether chuckled. "This is the only decision I fully know I won't regret."

Aether felt like it was his first time seeing you in your wedding dress. His heart was filled with the brim with utmost joy, but what caught his attention was the bouquet of flowers in your hands.

You told him before that you will have roses as your bouquet, but to his surprise, he can see the Windwheel Asters and the white flowers that reminded him of his sister.

His emotions was all over the place. He had no idea how he could look so calm. Somehow he managed to hold himself together until you finally stood before him.

When you stared at him behind the veil, he couldn't take it anymore. You were too perfect. How could he be so blessed with you?

Tears sprung to his eyes when you reached out to take his hands in yours. He retracted one of them to rub his arm across his eyes, wiping away the wetness that streamed to his face.

Why am I crying like a child in my wedding? Stop it!

He couldn't.

He only cried harder when you leaned forward, removed his arm from his eyes, made him look into your vibrant hues, to give a small peck on his lips - "You're okay, Aether."

     BENNETT

                 Bennett understood his bad luck more than anyone. He had lived with and through it his entire life he graced the surface of the earth. It was almost pitiful to see the boy smiling ever so brightly as misfortune after misfortune comes hurtling his way, but to him? It was an everyday and normal occurrence, nothing he hasn't seen or experienced before. His spirits has never let their roaring flame vanish, however, and if it had not been for his bad luck, everyone would have been drawn to his warm, welcoming, affable, and cheerful soul.

                                 But just because he was used to the constant array of debacle thrown his way, doesn't mean there were never days where he won't be upset over everything it brought to his life, and others as well, and wonder how long it will take until his unluckiness will lead him back to the very situation he was rescued from when he was a mere baby.

          He forgot how long it was when he had experienced something good, miraculously so. The only time he can recall being so was when he encountered the Honorary Knight, convened with them as a temporary adventure team, and found a treasure chest containing items he has only dreamed of in his sleep deep within a domain. However, that was many moons ago, and nothing has ever compared to it ever since. The moment he departed from the Honorary Knight, his bad luck came instantly to bite him.

                 It was far too long ago. Sometimes, Bennett wondered if that would be the only good thing that can happen to him in his lifetime, and thank the Archons he was wrong because the very worst day that came upon him is a day he will never exchange for another - the day he met you. When it was raining, thunder in the distance, lightning striking trees and soil, his bruised and bleeding form hardly covered under a small and flimsy tent, you graced him with your presence, and an umbrella which you used to cover both of you.

                                    He had never stopped admiring you ever since. His eyes always followed you, wide and shining. He remembered the warmth in his chest and the redness tinting his cheeks when you brought him to your abode and treated his wounds with care gentler than the Deaconess. When he told you what happened to him, he anticipated to he shoved out of the house immediately and have your front door slammed on his face, but you did not. When he warned you about his curse, telling you how you will be affected when you spend a little too much time with him, the look of fright did not cross your visage and you even insisted that he not leave your house until you were sure he was capable of moving without pain, even if you had instantly been affected by his unluckiness (you pricked your finger quite badly when you were stitching a deep wound of his. He always felt guilty for that and has not stopped offering his apologies whenever it pricks the corner of his mind).

                   Other than the team of adventurers who had saved him from peril when he was a baby, it was difficult to find someone who will stay with him, through bad times and more of it. One cannot simply imagine and comprehend the confusion and happiness that seized him when he found out you were spending more and more time with him, not out pity but because you enjoy his company (which was weird, but he'll take it).

                              You possessed no Vision, but Bennett never saw you in an inferior light. In fact, it impressed him how you can hold yourself without the aid of any power. Enemies took a little longer to eradicate but ultimately, you were always successful. He held you in high regard, and very much like a certain blond traveler, the poor boy thought it was merely friendship and respect he felt towards you. After all, wouldn't a friend accompany him in his adventures no matter what disappointing or gratifying the outcome is? Wouldn't a friend prepare meals for him before he goes off on a solo expedition? Wouldn't a friend stay up late up waiting for him to return after? Wouldn't a friend welcome him by the entrance of Mondstadt upon his arrival? Wouldn't a friend give him butterflies in his stomach? Wouldn't a friend make his heart pound in a way

                  It had taken the Traveler and his floating companion for Bennett to learn about how exactly he was feeling for you.

           He liked you, and not in the way he liked the traveler or Razor - he liked liked you.

                               When he realized about his feelings, Bennett nearly short circuit every time you go near him. His face flush a rich color of vermillion, his confident posture stripped down to a coy and uncertain stance, his eyes darted and never meeting yours for too long, a sheepish smile painted over his brims - Bennett had never felt this way before. It was foreign to him - liking someone - and it was worse for him because you were his one of his few friends (you, Razor, the Traveler and their floating friend), and having you withdraw from him if you ever learned his feelings frightened him more than any Ruin Guard could.

    He didn't bother entertaining the idea of you returning his feelings. With his bad luck, it was bound to end in a rejection, and he didn't believe he had the heart to accept the hurt that would come.

                 Bennett tried to keep his feeling a secret, he really, genuinely, did. He locked his feelings for you in a box and stowed away somewhere behind his mind. But it didn't take you too long to catch on. Bennett's theatrics wasn't as impenetrable as he originally thought because there was no other reason for you to corner him in a street in Mondstadt after he tried to avoid crossing paths with you, and admit your feelings to him.

                                  "( Your Name )," Stuttered Bennett, eyes darting to the side to avoid your eyes as he pressed his back against the wall behind him. You gazed at him, a tint of red over your cheek.

                 Archon, how are you so adorable?

                   "Uh, hi," He greeted meekly, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I-I was just about to leave for an adventure - "

                               "Bennett," You spoke, and he froze at the tone of your voice.

                   He looked at you properly, gulping. Shy eyes, shy smile, shy, shy, shy - and yet somehow, Bennett thought the worse - that you found out about his feelings and was about to turn him down.

          He almost got down on his knees and press his hands together in a praying position, head bowed, and beg to keep your friendship. It didn't matter if you did not share his feelings. You were more important than his stupid feelings. He can deal with the hurt of rejection that will soon to come, but losing you completely? Can he even come to terms with that?

                                But before he can do such humiliating display, you leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek,

                  It was almost too good to be true, and with someone like him, Bennett had to take a moment to comprehend what has happened. His feelings were reciprocated, opposite of what should have been considering his dilemma. How can this be? He was sure your friendship would be put to an end when you learn about what he felt for you. How did you even know that he liked you? Has he been too obvious? Surely not (he was). Perhaps you were merely toying with him, discovering his feelings and choosing to use it as a way to alleviate your boredom -

                                           Horror struck him when he processed the message behind his doubt. How could he think so little of you? Someone as sweet and kind as you would be repulsed by the intention of the actions he thought you were presenting to him. Prideful as this may sound, Bennett believed he knew you enough to know you were sincere in everything you do.

            But even if both your feelings are revealed to be mutual, the two of you agreed to wait until a certain age before forming a romantic relationship. The two of you are young and there are a lot more the world can offer outside Mondstadt. There are countless of opportunities to grow and be mature, to be able to have a set of qualities to take of one another.

                            But that didn't mean the two of you easily managed to hold back showcasing your favor for the other. Bennett will always find himself exchanging secret glances and smile with you whenever a third party joins in on your adventure. He would stick by your side in situations he think could potentially lead you to a major injury. He will attempt (and fail, unfortunately) to whip you up with something delicious when he has free time. And you did the same to him.

                  With you, there was never a time where his heart wasn't beating against his chest. He can't stop himself from bounding recklessly through his adventures whenever you accompany him, although he will still keep a close eye on you just in case something bad happens to you (but it's always him who ends up injured).

                                              But what he liked the most are the kisses the two of you share. Short, chaste, and shy - whether it be behind closed doors, when others are looking away, or when the two of you set of on an adventure.

            Bennett would lay in his bed with a smile on his face, his thundering heart preventing him from sleeping. He'll often find himself burying his face against his pillow, grinning from ear to ear.

                         This smile was different. This wasn't smile that he usually wore, the kind of smile that persevered through hardship after another. No, it was the sort of smile that was too carefree and too full of utmost joy, no worries or doubts in his heart. Everyday he always woke up to the excitement of adventure, but now, the excitement of it and seeing you once again always had him brimming with the want for the night to be over with so he can chase after his dreams with you. Chasing his dreams with you, what a life.

      His world is full of a bad luck, but he thanked the Archons for giving him someone he can depend on in the troubling waters he always he seem to drown in.

Bennett, embarrassing it may sound, often laid on his bed imagining about marrying you.

He can see himself making a fool out of himself when he gets down on one knee and propose to you. It'll be set in the most beautiful place he discovered in one of his adventure, somewhere quiet. Like maybe on top of a mountain overseeing a vast field.

Because of his bad luck, he'll try to prepare for every outcome. To be very sure everything will be saved, he made sure he created a plan B for his plan A, a plan C for his plan B, and so on, and so forth.

He can imagine himself fumbling over his words, blushing a bright red was made prominent because of his white hair, holding a bunch of hand picked flowers a little too tightly, sweat pouring from his face, his suit and hair a little ruffled -

If you say yes (spoiler alert, you will), he will most probably go haywire with shock and happiness, causing him to drop the ring down the mountain, and the two of you will spend quite some time looking for it. But in the end, you two will find it somewhere deep underground or deep underwater (to which you will ask help to retrieve) (Bennett offered to go down to get the ring but you can’t take any chances) and then you can start planning the wedding.

If Bennett had backup plans for his proposal, then expect there'll be much more backups with your wedding. He needed this day to be perfect for you, and his bad luck won't stop him from providing it for you. Even if he had to fight through horde after horde of Hilichurls (please stop him when he does, he definitely will do that for you), making you happy is his top priority.

Bennett will be extremely anxious the day before the wedding. He'll be pacing around his room, and has half a mind of running over to your place and spending the night there to reassure himself that you still want to marry him, and that you’re absolutely sure you want to spend the rest of your life with him. It will be Razor - who the Traveler spent hours teaching the basic information of the role of Best Man to - who will calm his nerves. He’ll stop Bennett from reaching your house and carry him back to his own, and giving him a lecture (he did his best) like the best man he was.

Was he having second thoughts on marrying you? No way! He will just be nervous about how the wedding will go. With his bad luck, something horrible is bound to happen.

At the day of the wedding, Bennett can imagine himself constantly seeking reassurance from his best man.

"What if I mess up?" Questions Bennett to Razor, anxious hands fiddling with his tie.

"Messing up is . . . normal." Razor will reassure him, but Bennett will shake his head.

“But it's me. When I mess up, it's always . . . catastrophic . . . ”

Bennett hoped that at least for his wedding way, everything will go smoothly. A perfect day, for you and for him. He won't embarrass you or himself. He won't forget the rings, he won't have his clothes tucked inside out, he will not spill any food or drinks on himself or on his guests, there will be no random Hilichurl attacks - none of that.

He really hoped for the Archons to spare him from his bad luck. 

He will be able to stand by the altar with confidence and a smile, waiting for you to walk down the aisle.

As Bennett is consumed with his thoughts, his eyes drew to the small table at the side of his bed and caught sight of the picture of the two of you perched on the surface. It was a picture you took with a kamera after one of his adventures. The two of you smiling happily as he showcased the loot of vegetables and wheat he gathered in numerous luxurious chests. It was good day, that picture was. He found more resources than usual. Of course, he learned from the Traveler that most of the chest they found contained treasures but hey, vegetables are better than nothing, right?

Bennett stared at your smiling face and can feel the heat creep on his cheeks as he imagined you in a pretty, white wedding dress, smiling at him so shyly and cute - oh, Archons, help him. May them have mercy on him. Of course, you always looked pretty to him - so, so pretty - but in your wedding day? Archons, he doesn't know if he can take that. It'll be too much for his big heart.

He can only imagine how your wedding will play out, but there is one thing he was sure of and that is that he will burst into tears once he laid his eyes upon you - and not the soft cry most men do in their wedding, oh, not at all like that. His heart is too big with too much love for you, and too soft to control his emotions properly.

Bennett will cry (bawl, actually), his tears of joy coming in streams, and it was loud enough for strangers to think he was grieving over a deceased loved one. He was hiccupping and sobbing, will probably be holding on to his vest tightly as if his entire lifeline depended on the pressure of how he crumpled the fabric. He hoped that in that time, Razor or the Traveler will lend him a hand and calm him down before he can ruin his own wedding.

Bennett, as he happily imagined that fateful day to come in the future (spoilers again, it will) did not feel a tear slip from the corner of his eye as he drifted off to a pleasant slumber with a beaming smile.

The boy absolutely adores you.

[ereawrites]

Hush

reiner braun x reader

warnings: smut

wc: 8.4k

summary: reiner comes home, even if part of him doesn’t. who can blame you for wanting to offer him some comfort against all the fucked-up things he’s been through?

Late summers in Marley come with a dry, constant heat, the kind that lasts well into the night. After so many months of sun warming your room, even the stone walls can't keep it cool - you've never been good at sleeping in a hot room, and that's the excuse you use to forgive sneaking away to Reiner again. It's selfish. You're distracting him from the war, you worry, for the sake of a little comfort for him and a little peace for yourself. You shouldn't do it, but you do.

"You can't tell the others that I'm doing this.", he whispers against your bare collarbone, exposed by your own shaking fingers that have undone the first three buttons of your uniform. You try to guide his face back up to yours with a hand cupping his jaw. Reiner leans into your touch, but he doesn't move, instead pressing his forehead against the curve of your shoulder. A shaky breath tickles your skin, and it tells you everything you need to know.

When he first came home, no one saw him for weeks, not even the servants who took meals to his room - you caught them in the corridors, of course you did, if only to ask after the wellbeing of a comrade. Pieck eventually pulled you aside and told you, with pity shining in dull eyes, that they were putting him through tests. Psychological evaluations. From what she had left unsaid, you supposed that they were testing his loyalty more than his wellbeing. They decided that he was their most loyal warrior, and they rewarded him with more battles to fight.

Now, trembling beneath you, in a chair hastily shoved back from the desk in his room, you can see for yourself that Reiner is fractured. He's strong - so strong, not broken, not yet - but he is struggling and he is alone, even months later. You smooth your palms over the taut muscle of his shoulders. "I won't, I swear - no one even knows I'm here.". You've been sneaking to his quarters for months; only to speak, at first, to let him know that he doesn't have to bear the burden of Paradis quite so alone.

Although, to be fair, you've never went so far as to straddle him in a chair. You don't know how it happened, really. You had started off perched on the edge of his desk, and one second you were reaching out to cup his cheek -already too far, presuming too much and breaking too many rules in the name of comfort - and the next thing you knew, you were on top of him.

His voice is so small. "They can't know. They already think I'm weak, I- I am, I am weak, you can't-"

This time, you tilt his face up with insistent fingers under his chin. Even after everything, his brown eyes are still the same: sadder, maybe, and crinkled at the corners with a frown, but filled with the very same gentleness he's always regarded you with. "You're not weak, Reiner. You've been through so much, and you're still here, and you've been so brave. It's okay to let yourself feel things - right here, right now, okay? That doesn't make you weak, or selfish."

Reiner closes his eyes as if he's in pain. "...I'm selfish for doing this - being here. I should be out there in the field instead of letting my heart distract me again."

Again, he says, and it sends a jolt through your gut. They never let you find out what happened on the island - Reiner isn't ready to tell you, and you don't know he ever will be - but you're beginning to realise that the man beneath you is being torn apart by the things that happened to him, and the things he did, and the things he's doing now.

"Rei,", you say gently, tracing your thumb over his lips as you lean your forehead against his. "If you don't want me here, I'll go back to my room, and we don't have to speak about it again... Just say the word."

He sighs. For a moment, you think he's going to ask you to leave. As much as you want to believe that you're only here for him, only here to support him and do what he needs, you'd be lying to yourself. Your heart sinks. He picks it back up again with his hands coming to rest on the curve of your waist. "I do want you."

And you're going to tell him that you want him too, but all of a sudden he's kissing you.

Your body reacts before your mind can even catch up: you thread your hands into hair that's more grown out than he usually keeps it, all the way down to his nape, half pulling him closer and half pressing yourself further into him. Reiner lets out another small sigh, deep in his throat. The sound makes your knees go weak - god, you like him so much, too much, perhaps he's not the only one being selfish here - and your legs sink down until your weight is resting solely on his thighs. His hands instantly fly to splay over your back, one between your shoulders and the other just above your ass, and his palms are so big that he's anchoring you against him without even trying.

"I want you,", he repeats between kisses, "So much. For so long."

Something possesses you to slip your tongue into his mouth. You shouldn't do it - you should let him set the pace because this is about him, and - who are you really kidding? He holds you as if he's scared you'll leave, and you kiss him harder. For a few moments, you don't think about anything other than how good his mouth feels on yours, nothing at all. Every time you run your hands over his shoulders, he shudders as if you've sent an electric shock through him.

Reiner breaks away for air and you nearly whine - so embarrassing, but you realise you don't actually give a fuck. There's something in his eyes that seems scared. Scared you'll leave, or scared you don't want him. You're about to kiss him again before you register the faint taste of whiskey on your tongue. "You've been drinking?"

"A few hours ago. I thought you weren't going to come tonight. Helps me stop thinking about you so much.", he admits with a low voice. The expression on his face is almost nervous, as if he's worried you're going to be angry with him about it, but the confession has your heart racing faster than it has any right to. This is about him, you remind yourself; you're glad that his hair is longer now, because you can tug gently on it, making him tilt his head back and expose the column of his throat. It bobs with a thick swallow when you press the first soft kiss to the hollow beneath his Adam's apple. You don't reply to his words. You honestly don't think you can without crying.

There's no need to rush this. Your body screams for you to, but you've been harbouring these impossible feelings for the man underneath you for months - since before he left Marley, if you're to be truly honest - and you need to savour this and he needs gentleness. Slow, chaste kisses peppered across his neck, his jaw, even his shoulders through the material of his shirt. You ghost your nails down his nape and revel in the way his breath hitches slightly. Somewhere along the way, you realise just how closely you're pressed up to him: your chest is pushed hard against his, hips almost flush, and he's still holding you close. There's a tenderness in the embrace that makes your heart hurt all over again.

"Is this okay?', you ask - Reiner's breaths are coming slow and deep, and you can't get rid of the nagging concern that this might quickly become overwhelming for him. "Are you okay?"

He tips his head back down to level his gaze with yours, and the warm brown of his irises has all but melted away into the black of his pupils. "I want to... touch you."

"You can do anything you want to me, Rei.", your mouth says of its own accord, and you still really don't give a fuck about how shameful your lack of control is, because his grip tightens, and he makes a face like you've stabbed him. You're compelled to wipe the expression away with a quick, hot kiss, just barely dipping your tongue into his mouth before pulling away again. "Anything to make you feel good again."

It's a struggle to wrap your fingers around his thick wrist, but you just about manage it, and guide his hand up to the next button of your shirt. It isn't trembling so much now. The slightest tremor, still, but you half-suspect that's due to the careful, gentle awe that you see glinting in his eyes. Reiner mumbles your name as he starts to fumble with the button. "I don't think I'll be able to stop myself after this."

"I don't want you to.", you reply quietly. Quickly, you come the realisation that Reiner's struggle with the button must have been feigned for your comfort, because he has it - and the next one - popped open before you can even gasp in a quick breath. His lips chase his fingers, so, so soft, trailing down each new piece of skin he exposes (when did you start burning up?) and you find that you push back up on your knees instinctively; high enough for his mouth to be able to reach the space between your breasts and, god, it sends fireworks shooting up your spine.

You hardly pay attention to the last few buttons of your shirt being undone - Reiner's lips on your chest see to that, kissing slowly, almost reverently, around the curve of your chest, just underneath each breast and then back up to your collarbones. It's only now that you recall your decision not to wear a bra. It was already late when you left your room, past midnight, and you couldn't afford to be seen sneaking around looking as though you were dressed to actually go somewhere. 

Besides, Reiner has never been disrespectful to you in any way, never leered at you like some of the other men in the compound. A simple cotton button-up and slacks had seemed the obvious choice. A bolt of worry flashes to the forefront of your mind: what if he thinks you only came here for sex? He means so much more to you than that, you don't want him to think-

His hands ground you. One has slipped beneath the material to rest on your bare waist. He's just brushing the skin, and he's staring at your lips, and he looks as if he's terrified and in awe and maybe something else, all at once. The fingers of his right hand play with the edge of your shirt. He has callouses on the pads of his fingers - a lifetime of too much work and not enough gentleness. This is about him, you remind yourself. You nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and then another, and he starts to slip the shirt away from your body.

Reiner whispers, "You're beautiful." against your neck before he's even looked at you. "So beautiful. Sometimes I think you're an angel." An already weak protest dies in your throat when he dips his head to start kissing your neck - real kisses this time, warmer and faster and with a hint of tongue, and although it pains you so much to release your grip on his hair, you do it so that your shirt can fall forgotten to the floor. "Too good for someone like me."

Hushing him comes easily, even if hearing his words is hard - you've spent months trying to soothe him and help him with words, so maybe now is the time to show him with actions instead. Reiner is the one who's too good for you, too good for this world in fact, a world that has done nothing but abuse him. You have to stop thinking and start feeling, both of you. He actually makes a tiny grunt of protest when you push his face away from your neck in order to peel his shirt away. It's selfish, you know, to run your palms up his abs and chest when you do it, just as it's selfish to stare shamelessly at his arms when he raises them to tug the shirt over his head, but Reiner catches you doing it and, for the first time in weeks, he smiles.

"You're beautiful too, Rei. I've thought so for a long time.", you say into a kiss that's already started. His hands are at your hips and your arms are wrapped around his neck, you're so close to him it hurts, so close you feel every last bit of self-control slipping away; he pulls you closer, kisses you harder, lets your tits press up against his bare chest. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and you're panting for air. No one's ever made you feel like this: so safe and whole and damn hot with just a little kissing.

Then, you adjust yourself in his lap, and you feel that he's half-hard in his pants. Honestly, you doubt your own underwear is in a much better state. Still, you can't help the way your breath hitches: Reiner's jaw tightens, probably because of the inadvertent friction, but you feel the heat spreading over your cheeks. You both want this, of course you do, but it's still shocking to feel the evidence of his arousal. And that's without even thinking about how big the bulge felt in that one little instant.

Reiner tugs you backwards by the hips and you're scared that he's become overwhelmed. He steadies you as soon as your ass is resting further down on his thighs, though - the loss of skin-to-skin contact draws a small whine from you - and starts kissing down your neck again, leads your hands to support yourself on his shoulders, and now his hands are on your tits. It starts off fairly slow. Not quite as gentle as before but the reverence is still evident. An angel, he said, and he touches you like you are one. He claims to be a monster but he treats you so well:  licking at your collarbones and kissing your neck, swiping those calloused thumbs over your nipples until they harden, pinching so gently and just right, making the breath shoot out of you in a shuddering moan. The scolding he gives you sounds entirely absent. "Got to stay quiet, sweetheart. No one can know you're here."

"I-", forced to bite your lip when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, "Sorry. I know. Just - feels good."

"It's what you deserve."

God, Reiner makes you totally weak and he doesn't even seem to know it. His voice is quiet as ever. You always have to speak lowly when you're here, in case someone hears and they keep you from seeing him again - but it's dropped so low, and it's got just the littlest bit of rasp to it. He sounds desperate. You're pretty sure you can actually feel the dampness in your underwear now. Torn between sitting there and letting him play with your nipples for hours, and just unbuckling his belt right now and riding him in his desk chair, you're so close to becoming overstimulated and simply melting into his arms, but he makes the decision for you.

The way he leans even further down to wrap his lips around one nipple must be uncomfortable for him, he's so tall, taller than you even when you're sat on top of his thighs like this - he must enjoy it, though, because he groans lowly as his tongue swirls around it. You nearly have to clap your hand over your mouth to stifle a moan, and he clearly knows you're going to need extra support staying up, because his now free hand slides around to hold the base of your bare back. "Oh my God-", you hiss. You're almost certain you feel him smile again.

"Rei. Is it okay if I...", you manage to pant out, gesturing to the zipper of your slacks, after a few more minutes of indulgence - after seemingly being satisfied with the attention he gave one breast, he had switched to the other, making practically inaudible noises each time your hips canted against his broad thighs. One day, if he lets you do this again, maybe you'll ask him to let you get off on the hard muscle of his quads. You'd like to feel his arms around you as you fall apart.

His fingers slip just below your waistband. They're so, so close to where you need him, and your body is so hot, and Reiner's must be too because his pecs are starting to glisten with sweat. "Please.", as if he's on the verge of breaking with how much he wants you - it would sound conceited to believe, but you see the way he's looking at you, you feel the way he's touching you. It wouldn't be fair to deny him of the only emotion he's allowed himself in a long time.

Of course, he waits for you to nod your consent. Those warm, fractured, black-brown eyes swallow you up so much that your whole body is set ablaze as he slowly undoes the button of your trousers. You at least had the good sense to wear acceptable underwear, although you suspect Reiner will want that gone, too. He's seeming to grow harder with every bit of bare skin he manages to touch. As he drags the zipper down at a pace much too slow for your liking, he murmurs, stand up for me, sweetheart.

You do, in the space he makes for you between spread thighs, and the thought of being away from him right now is so unbearable, that you press your knees up against the chair to keep the closeness. Reiner looks up at you for a moment, cheeks a little red and lips a little swollen, before his eyes are on your body and your trousers are being tugged gently over the curve of your ass. The heat in your stomach grows even more intense when you literally see his mouth drop open at the sight of your underwear, and he blushes harder when your thighs are exposed; you're tensing them together to relieve some of the pressure, you realise, but Reiner's easily strong enough to get past that. He even leans down to caress your calves as he pushes the slacks the rest of the way off.

"I would have dressed up for you a little more, if I had known this was going to happen.", you half-giggle. It's been a long time since anyone has seen you like this. You're not exactly ashamed of the fact that there's most definitely a damp spot on your underwear - one that Reiner hasn't noticed, too preoccupied with kissing your lower stomach and squeezing your thighs - but it's an intense feeling, finally being in a moment that you've tried so hard to stop imagining. Reiner huffs a small laugh in return against your abdomen.

"You're stunning. In anything.", he says, just before he lays a kiss to your pussy through the material of your underwear. He must feel the wetness because he groans, too loud, and then he licks. You gasp. Even that small action feels so much better than your own fingers ever have. Visions fill your head: sitting on the edge of his desk, watching him eat you out, those huge hands holding your hips in place until the skin bruises, those beautiful eyes staring up from between your legs - he twines his fingers into yours, and brings them to the waistband of your underwear. You catch the hint right as he leans back into the chair again.

Stripping in front of him puts a lump in your throat. Rei is kind but he's huge, especially when he's spread out in his chair like that, with a sweat-slicked broad chest and thick thighs and a bulge that you worry might actually tear through his trousers, and you feel so vulnerable to do this just in front of him, where he can reach out and swallow you up at any moment. It's so incredibly hot. There's no need to put on a show. He watches you as though you're the most beautiful thing in the world anyway. You do it for him regardless, though, as well as you can. You take it slow, being sure to drag your hands over your thighs in a way that feels silly and sensual all at once. When the lace reaches your knees, his hand is there next to yours, and you take it for balance as you step out of your underwear completely.

"Fuck...", he remarks under his breath. His thumb traces absent circles over the back of your hand while he drinks in the sight of you. Perhaps it's because of the dim lighting, the room lit only by a few candles and a lamp in the corner, but you feel like he looks at you too hard, for too long, for someone who isn't supposed to care about you. Your stomach lurches and you feel your inner thighs begin to become wet. You won't take this from him, or yourself, not when the dark look in his eyes is making your pussy clench like this. He holds your hand the entire time he looks at you. "So pretty. C'mere."

Instantly, you're settling back on top of him. The fog in your mind means you don't even question how compliantly you react to his baritone. His left hand snakes around your back again to hold you steady, and you're not quite sure if your hand guides the other to your inner thighs, or if he does it of his own accord. Either way, he's ghosting calloused fingertips over the damp skin there as soon as you make yourself comfortable. "Ah- please.", you whimper.

Reiner probably doesn't mean to tease you, but you need him, you need something to touch you before you go insane. You plead with him again, saying his name this time, and he swallows thickly. The sound that leaves your mouth when he runs a finger up your slit is pitiful. He responds so well, though, repeating the action a few more times before he pulls his hand away. "You're so wet, god."

His voice is rougher than you could ever have imagined. Another clench of your pussy, and you see his eyes widen at the strings of wetness connecting his thick fingers. Your own tone comes out far too high and shaky. "You just - I can't help it, you make me feel... something, I don't know, I-", and it tapers off into a senseless whine when his fingers start to trace lines over your pussy again.

"Relax, angel. Gonna make you feel good like you deserve, I promise.". The reassurance is murmured between your breasts, where he's licking away the salty dampness rapidly collecting there - Reiner clearly wants all of you, every part of you, just as much as you want him. He keeps up the motion for a little longer, spreading your wetness around, until your clit swells up so much that it catches on his finger every time he passes over it. Each gentle bump drags another stifled gasp out of you. No one can know you're here, no one can know that Reiner's grabbing the flesh of your ass and rubbing your pussy, but he sure as hell doesn't make it easy for you.

This time, he doesn't run his finger straight over your clit. He stops moving as soon as your body reacts to the touch - he's right on the most sensitive part of you, and he presses with the smallest bit of pressure, just enough to have you grasping wildly at his shoulders for something to ground yourself on. You're so worked up that it feels more incredible than you would ever have imagined. He's so perfect and good to you, and he doesn't stop there: he begins to trace slow, steady circles directly onto your clit - your body jerks of its own accord, but his forearm around your waist is big and strong enough to pin your hips in place against his hand.

"Oh- Rei-", you moan. You definitely see his cock twitch. Maybe it's a trick of the light, but you're pretty sure you can see a considerable damp spot forming on his trousers, too.

"God. I always knew you'd sound pretty."

The rasped confession has your hips trying to buck again. Reiner's finger starts to move a little faster. The increased pleasure means you're faced with moaning too loud and getting caught, or finding some other way to occupy your mouth. You're panting when you ask, "You've... thought about doing this?"

"Yeah. Too much. I- I'm sorry-", Reiner admits as he mouths your nipples, sounding hardly sorry at all. You envision him fisting his cock to the thought of you right as his middle finger leaves your clit and pushes inside you to the first knuckle,"-I couldn't help myself, I never can around you."

"Shi- I think about you too.". Mewling, your upper body collapses so it's leaning against Reiner's strong torso, your lips against his temple, his head buried in your neck, his arm keeping you steady as he works his finger into you. Senseless blabbering is all you can manage, spilling your filthy secrets into his ear without an ounce of shame. "When I touch myself. I - oh-", turning your face into his hair when his finger catches on that sweet spot inside you, "- I think about you, I always imagine it's you, your fingers, your cock-"

His finger finally, finally is fully inside you, although Reiner is already eagerly pushing another into you; this one makes you feel the stretch, hot and full in a way that even three of your own fingers can never achieve. Shuddering, another moan of his name, clawing at his shoulders - your body welcomes him even if it's a difficulty, gushing more wetness onto his palm until he starts to scissor his large fingers inside of you, stretching you out until tears are pricking your eyes in protest of how good it feels.

"Wish we could do this where no one else could hear."-and so do you, you want Reiner to know just how good he's making you feel- "You sound so pretty. Do you... think you can take it..?", he mumbles, and you know he's talking about his cock, inside you - two of his fingers have you writhing, so the thought of his cock has your eyes rolling back in your head. He crooks his fingers onto your sweet spot right as you open your mouth, almost like he wants the risk of you being too loud and getting caught.

"Please, Reiner, I want to!", you respond a breathy whine, all of it rushing out of you at once before he can catch your g-spot again. You start to snake a hand into the cramped, hot space between your torsos. All you can think of is how good he'll feel when he's inside you. "Let me-"

"Not yet.", he groans, curling his fingers again, and again, not stopping, and he sounds genuinely authoritative for the first time. Your body goes weak, but you'd stop moving for him anyway. "Come on my fingers first. Wanna get you nice and wet before you take me, okay?"

"Fuck-", you cry. The motion on your most sensitive spot just isn't stopping, he's found where he wants to be - the callouses on his fingers are making the friction even more perfect, especially when he brings his thumb to retrace those slow circles on your clit. He keeps it steady for a few minutes - could be hours, or seconds, all you know is that it feels too good to care - and the pressure inside you is becoming something else. Reiner is taking his time with every motion, but that's exactly what's bringing you to the edge so fast. His fingers are so thick and the pressure on your clit is so good, that's it, you're starting to shake in the kind of way that leads up to an orgasm that makes you go blank in the head. You fold into the way he holds you and you let go.

Rei lets a strained grunt out. "That's it, come on, you're taking it so well. You're dripping onto my leg, that's exactly what I want, my angel.". So wet that he can feel it through his trousers, it's so humiliating and Reiner obviously loves it so much because he groans again when you start to clench on his fingers, picking up the pace of his movements and you can hear how wet you are and it must be all over his bare forearm-

"I'm gonna-", you try to warn him: he coaxes you into it, come on, please and you cum hard.

The behinds of your eyelids go white, or black, you have no way to tell. Your entire body feels weightless, grounded only by his arm around you, and his fingers must keep curling inside of you because the waves of pleasure don't stop, they just keep coming, hitting you until every part of your body is alight and molten for him, and you're very vaguely aware of your own hand covering your mouth. It takes longer to come down from it than it's ever taken you.

Then again, no one has ever ripped an orgasm that strong out of you.

"Are you okay?", Reiner asks. His fingers are no longer inside. He's rubbing soothing patterns into your inner thighs, and either your thighs are soaked or his hand is; your muscles feel like jelly, but you just about manage to support your own weight again, leaning back so you can look him in the eyes. There's wetness on your cheeks, maybe tears, and Reiner looks at you with clear concern through blown pupils. It's so endearing and sexy that you have to smile. It must relax him, given how he returns it with a soft one of his own - you notice marks on his lower lip, like he bit it to hold back a sound, perhaps.

You kiss him softly to soothe the pain, whispering into his mouth, "Can I have you inside, now, Rei?". His hands come to grip your waist hard. You know how you must sound to him: fucked out after his fingers alone, speech slurred and pitchy from the aftershocks of your orgasm, asking for his cock. And yet, he still waits for you.

"...Are you sure you want me?". You nod in response. He picks you up like you weigh nothing at all, not even letting out a breath of exertion, and your shaky legs wrap instinctively around him as he stands from the chair. For a moment, Rei just holds you there, kissing you with an indescribable, soft kind of intensity, letting you run your hands over the biceps and triceps that aren't even straining with the effort of holding you. His bed is close, but obviously too far away for him, so he places you down onto the edge of his desk. You separate from the kiss, only meaning to glance down to adjust yourself - falling off the desk would be a great way to kill the mood - when you see it.

"Oh - oh my god, the window is open..!"

It makes sense; he knows you don't like a hot room, he's kept his window open in the evenings ever since you told him that weeks ago. Why didn't you check? Everyone else should be asleep by now, but... Porco's room is so close to Reiner's, and if he's somehow awake with his own window open - you move to hop off the desk. Reiner cups your cheek in his hand, drawing your gaze back to him, and suddenly all thoughts about the stupid window disappear.

"It's okay.", he promises. "They won't hear if we're careful. I'm going to be so careful and slow with you, I swear."

God. You look down and you're reminded of exactly why you're so worked up - there is definitely a wet spot on his trousers, he must be leaking for you, and the thought of that cock slowly working you open drives you to start fumbling with his zipper. This is the first time your hands have been near that bulge and they look positively tiny in comparison. You worry if he's going to fit, briefly, but Reiner promised to be careful and you're more than ready for him. Without even bothering to fully remove his slacks and underwear - you just tug them down to his upper thighs - you're met with the full sight of him.

It's so much bigger than you would have thought, even generously, fuck; you're pretty sure your jaw actually drops when it springs free from his underwear, slapping against his taut abdomen. It's long, enough to make your mouth water, with a nice, prominent vein on the underside, but the most impressive part of him is the thickness. Even the head is fat, curved upwards somewhat, and he's leaking so much that a bead of precum rolls down his cock within seconds. You rip your eyes away to look up at him and, somehow, he looks embarrassed. You can't stand to see him like that, not when every part of him is so perfect and handsome, so you wrap your hand around his cock and begin to stroke gently.

Your fingers just barely touch around his girth. His precum slicks your palm, though, making it easy enough to set a nice, slow pace of pumping him, watching how his brow instantly furrows. "Holy shit - ah, use both hands, sweetheart, please -". Reiner doesn't need to ask twice: you spit into your other palm to offer him even more slick, then bring it to join the other, relishing in the choked gasp he makes. Even stroking him with two hands, there's so much of him you can't hold at once.

He's beautiful, you think, with gritted teeth and head thrown back. Right now, you could happily stroke him for as long as he wants, as long as he needs to spill himself all over your hands, but he only grants you a few short moments and a low hiss before he's carefully pulling your hands away.

After a kiss to the knuckles of each hand, he cups the back of your head and leans over you, bringing your back flat against the desk. "Lie back, just like that.", and your legs wrap around his waist without having to be told. There's the briefest flash in his eyes, a feral glint when you tug him closer using your thighs, but then it's gone, and he's tenderly holding your head so it doesn't rest directly on the hard wood of the desk. "Want you to look at me when I'm filling you up, okay? So I know you're okay. Can you do that for me?"

Reiner is going to fuck you, you realise. He really is going to be inside you. This isn't a dream, not the fantasy you have when you're touching yourself after returning to your own room. Reiner is above you, pumping his cock in his fist, staring at your aching cunt as he does it.

"Anything.", you whisper. He dips his head to kiss you once more, then props himself up on his elbow so he can watch your face. The first brush of his cock against your core has your hips bucking, rolling, rubbing yourself up and down his length like a bitch in heat, and he lets you do it, looking into your eyes and smiling when his cock head catches on your hole. Your ankles lace behind his back to pull him down onto you, just as his hips make the first small thrust, and suddenly he's inside you.

It can only be the first inch or so, maybe not even all of the head, but it hurts and you have to bite down on a cry of his name. It hurts and it feels amazing. Nothing has ever stretched you out so much, and you can feel yourself dripping, trying so hard to accommodate him, because your body needs him just as much as you want him; Reiner groans at the first spasm of your walls, much louder than he should be with an open window, but who gives a fuck if Porco hears - it hurts but you nod for him to keep pushing, go deeper, stretch you out around all of his cock.

Reiner begins to pant once he gets the second inch in, going slow for both of your sakes, sweat beading at his temples. "God, you're so - tight-", as he stuffs more into you, watching you whimper and watching your eyes roll into your skull, "-like you're..made for my cock, huh, fuck-"

His voice dissolves into a growl by the end. You roll your hips, all the way up off the desk, and the movement has even more of him inside you. "Oh." You moan, and you think you're tearing up again. Reiner kisses at the edge of your eyes. The sensation is so perfectly overwhelming, the slow drag of his cock as it threatens to split you open, and coupled with the sounds he's making on top of you you're in total bliss.

Both of you go on like that for a while, slowly rolling your hips against each other and stifling noises as well as you can. Marks left on his back by your nails can be hidden, and the red-hot kisses he peppers over your tear-streaked face will fade away. By the time the tight fight has stopped hurting - still intense, maybe too much, but only good - his hips are flush with yours, and he's completely still. His free hand yet again keeps your hips from bucking. You've done it, you realise. You've taken all of his cock and it feels incredible. But he won't move.

Reiner barely starts to speak before you're begging. "Does it feel good-"

"So good, Rei, so fucking good - you can start moving, please."

He doesn't need any further encouragement; the first thrust is shallow, slow, only pulling out a few inches before working his way back into you. Still, when his hips bump against yours again, there's a sharp flash inside of you and he's actually hitting your cervix, fuck, you gasp so loud that he has to muffle it with his tongue in your open mouth. He holds it there for a few seconds before repeating the motion, letting himself fall into a rhythm as you pant and sob into his mouth with each thrust, clutching desperately at his back while every thrust gets deeper. Within a few minutes, he's pulling out almost to the tip each time - only the thick head left to fill you - before slowly, slowly pushing back in.

"You're taking me so well, my angel.", Reiner praises through a ragged breath. Even fucking you slow, he's struggling to contain himself. "You feel so good around me."

"Then, go fa-faster, Reiner, please - I can take it, I promise, just-!"

His hips snap against yours like a gunshot and you're completely filled again in a heartbeat. Your cunt clenches around him as you moan, throwing your head back, and Reiner collapses onto you. His body covers you completely even as he keeps the weight off by leaning on his forearm, letting you feel the drag of your nipples against his skin when he stuffs you with his cock so quick again, he's kissing your jaw and now you have nothing to silence your cries with other than your own hand, heaving for breath through your fingers as he starts to rut into you. The fingers on your hip pull you against him every time he bottoms out, pushing his cock even deeper, and you think you feel him smile against your neck when you gasp, "God, you're so deep."

The faster, frantic pace means that the room is filled with the sound of his skin slapping against yours, especially when you ask him to go harder and stop holding back, Rei, because you can take everything he has to give you. That perfect curve near the head of his length keeps catching on your g-spot - Reiner knows how to find it, he's hitting it too often for it to be an accident, angling his hips just so and matching each of your moans with one of his own. He must get off on watching you come undone underneath him, falling apart on his cock, you think, because you feel him pulse inside you every time you brokenly sob his name.

"This what you need? Am I giving you what you want, huh, sweetheart?", he rasps and it's not demeaning or teasing, he means it, he really means it- "Am I making you feel as good as you deserve?"

A particularly deep thrust has your toes curling at his back. "'S so good, yeah, feels so good, wanted you for so long-"

Your speech is slurring from the shocks of pleasure he's sending through you. Between the jolts to your cervix, the constant pressure on your g-spot, the way his body is rubbing against your clit with each rapid thrust of his hips - his lips on your neck and his grunts in your ear - you're going to cum again, you tell him, and he shoves himself up off the desk to stand upright. The change in position has your legs falling away from his back, and you scramble pathetically to adjust your hips so his cock will be deeper again, but his hands catch your thighs and easily overpower you. Both forearms slip underneath your knees, so your legs are hanging over his arms, and his hands grab either side of your hips to slam you back onto his cock.

"Holy shit- you feel even tighter like this, does that feel good? C'mon, answer me, tell me it feels good, please-"

"Yes!", you sob, and you can't give him any more than that because having your legs raised means he's right on your g-spot: all you can do is stare up at him through bleary eyes and admire how good he looks. His abs clench with every thrust, and his arms look so big holding your legs up like that. God, you're so close, just a little more - you reach down to play with your clit but Reiner pushes your hand away and pleads, "No-" and one of his hands slips around your leg to find it himself. Of course he finds it, you're so swollen for him, and he's rolling it between two fingers before you can clap your palm back over your mouth. You all but squeal his name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that - that's it, fuck, clench around me, please, want you to cum again, wanna feel you cum on my cock-", he says. You just barely hear him through the pounding in your head and the sound of your own desperate panting, and god you want to please him, you'd do anything for him, this is all for him, remember, so even though you don't know if your body can handle it, you nod. You shove your own fingers into your mouth to keep yourself quiet, the ones that he was dripping precum over when you stroked his cock, and you let Reiner slam into your g-spot and rub and pinch your clit until you're coming again.

Reiner doesn't slow down, he doesn't stop toying with your clit, he keeps telling you how perfect you feel when you squeeze him like that - you somehow feel and hear it all even though you can't understand anything other than the fire spreading through your nerves and into your limbs, consuming every part of you as he keeps fucking you - it's so intense that it doesn't last more than a few seconds, it can't, it's too much, you're starting to drool around your fingers when you come down - and then he tells you he's close in the loudest moan you've heard yet, and you're coming again-

You come back to your senses trembling, boneless and crying with pleasure. "Gonna cum for you.", he says, pressing down on where his cock bulges through your stomach. "You did so well for me.", and it takes everything you have to reach out for him. Reiner pushes your legs down to your chest so he can interlace his fingers with yours: you're almost sure you're still coming because your body spasms under him, your throat constricting in a soundless cry, but you don't take your eyes off him. He keeps you safe in his gaze for the final few thrusts, and then he takes your hand down with his as he pulls out, and together you stroke his cock so he can spill himself all over your stomach.

There's so much, you dully register. You don't watch because you're too caught up in his face, how his brow finally relaxes and his lips part so nicely, how he looks so at peace and so happy. You don't watch but you definitely feel his cum on your body. It's all over your stomach and chest by the time he finally stops stroking, finally opens his eyes again. It's strange: he must have fucked you so silly that you think he's looking at you like man in love.

A man in love, and covered in sweat, and exhausted. You smile despite yourself. "'S heavy. Get off."

Reiner lays a kiss to your forehead before doing as you say, leaving you to close your eyes and recover on the desk. He has a washbasin in the corner, you recall, when you hear the noise of water: he must be cleaning himself off. Then, the sound of footsteps, coming back towards you. He sounds tired and hesitant when he says, "...Do you want me to clean you...?"

For some reason, you blush. You've just had sex with Reiner - for his sake, you remind yourself, to let him know that it's okay to feel things again - and yet you're embarrassed over that simple offer. Then again, you only came here tonight to talk, to offer him some comfort on a day that you suspected had been a bad one. Sex is one thing: against the rules, but forgivable, a way for him to get rid of some of his frustrations and get his mind back on the mission. That's what you'll tell them, if they ever come asking. The intimacy of cleaning each other is a different matter entirely.

But no one ever has to know. Neither of you will ever tell the others that you're doing this, right? "Please.", you whisper, and you keep your eyes closed as if it makes it okay. Your brain is still heavy and fogged, but you don't miss how carefully and tenderly he touches you as he wipes you down - such a big man, being so gentle with you even now. You wouldn't blame him for asking you to leave now. In all good sense, this was a mistake, one that neither of you should speak of again, and it's in both of your best interests to move on as fast as possible. He won't have to know when you remember this night when you-

Reiner calls your name, and you reluctantly open your eyes. It's selfish, but you don't want this to end. He must have finished cleaning you and discarded of the washcloth, because he's already changed into a fresh pair of sleep pants, and he's holding up a shirt to you. You take it with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Reiner. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have come onto you. I've put you in a bad position and I really am sorry. I won't tell anyone that this happened.". The words pain you to say, but you know that you should apologise, and you give him a sad smile as you pull the shirt over your head. It's only when you catch the scent that you realise that this isn't your shirt - it's his. The questioning look you shoot him when your head pops out is met with a hand offered to you.

"I... meant what I said about wanting you. Not just for sex.", he says, although he looks scared to say it. "You mean more to me than that, you know. You make me feel like I'm more than what I've done. I know it's wrong, but-"

"-it's not wrong!", you blurt, and Reiner's eyes widen like he was expecting you to agree with him. "You are more than what you had to do, okay? I promise. To me, none of that matters, because I know you're a good person at heart. All of us know it."

That little interjection is exactly what you've been telling him for months. This might be the first time he looks as though he's beginning to believe it. You take his hand, smiling as much as you can even though you're still fighting the shame of what you just did, and Reiner says, "Stay here for a few hours - please. You'll sleep better, my room isn't as warm. Go back to your room before wakeup call. No one has to know.". He leads you to the bed and he lets you hold him, and you pretend that you don't hear him crying when he thinks you're asleep, or how he whispers that he thinks he might be in love.

[idontknowmyownmind]

Just thinking about what if Mammon used to be not 'afraid' of Lucifer and will not let his brothers get out of the line. In the past, he has never shown fear toward Lucifer because he does not fear him but respects him. He respects him so that's why he did what being told and gave his opinion if he thought it's too far or needed to think out more. It's not like he didn't trust Lucifer but because as much as he knows Lucifer did it for them, he doesn't want him to drive away from his family. The acts as it's because Lucifer was not just his big brother but also his friend. He couldn't tell exactly how it felt to be the only older sibling. Because just like Mammon wants to be a good example and always protect his younger sibling, be their pillar, he doesn't want Lucifer to bear the burden alone. He may be can't be the pillar for his big bro like him, and the older ones, to the younger ones, but he wants to be the one he can lean on if things become too much for him. (Like, you know, how the older being the pillar and the protector while the younger being the support kind of feeling.)

While when it comes to his younger siblings, he is carefree and not as strict as Lucifer because he thinks as much as the youngsters need lessons, they also need fun. So he let his lil bros free but would always keep an eye on them and wouldn't let them step out of the line. He let them joke around and on him but would always remind them if they were too far. (That strict but fun sibling, you know?)

But as the time went, everything changed. Mammon becomes someone who not only respects Lucifer but also fears him. (Something Lucifer definitely wouldn't let happen because he wants his lil bros to feel safe around him if only he places aside his pride). Can't recall when it started to happen but when Lucifer's presence is close or Mammon is aware he is in his range of sight, Mammon feels uneasy. And the sight of Lucifer bringing his hands up or when they brush each other slightly by accident make him flinch slightly.

He also became someone who let his younger brothers treat him without respect and accept everything thrown his way. At first, he thought of it as their copping machine but as the time went he doesn't know anymore.

He used to show real confidence and boost himself because he knew it's true, but now everything is just a facade that he himself is not believing.

And what if since MC came, he started to become his past self, the confident and stand for himself person he was.

I know traumas is not something that can be gone overnight but that where MC comes in, to help him overcome it.

(It can be either platonic or romantic)

.

.

.

I also thought about an AU where there is this one OC demon (he), with the same age as Satan (maybe), who for some circumstances needs to stay in the House of Lamentation. They are uncomfortable at first but come to terms to accept it and kind of don't really care unless they need something from him.

What they didn't anticipate was how close Mammon was to him, as if they knew each other longer and were actual brothers. Hell, if you ask anyone who saw them interact they would say that they must have been brothers since birth.

And the brother began to notice how Mammon spent most of his time with him and how he 'coddled' him while he ignored his brothers. Everytime they see Mammon absentmindedly pat his head or pat his arm for encouragement, ruffling his hair, giving an affection like they are family, it make something in their gut twisted.

[armenelols]

There isn't enough appreciation for Elrond's and Isildur's friendship.

I think much of this comes from the movies, where our only image of Isildur is his 'no' and Elrond yelling 'Isildur!', and then we see him die because he dives into the river while running away from a battle because the One Ring falls from his finger. Sure, there is some scroll Gandalf reads, but it only makes Isildur seem even more obsessed with the Ring than he already seemed. Add to that Aragorn's rambling about how he and Isildur share blood and weakness and you've got the perfect receipt for evil Isildur and 'cast it into the fire' memes.

Movie!Elrond's 'men are weak' really isn't helping.

So to start with, I think it is necessary to say that I am talking about book!Elrond and book!Isildur here, and while I don't recall either of them calling the other friend, it's a headcanon I have and it is to some extent supported by the books.

In the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields in Unfinished Tales, Isildur shares a few exchanges with his son, Elendur, that I would like to show here.

Elendur went to his father, who was standing dark and alone, as if lost in thought. 'Atarinya,' he said, 'what of the power that would cow these foul creatures and command them to obey you? Is it then of no avail?'

'Alas, it is not, senya. I can not use it. I dread the pain of touching it. And I have not yet found the strength to bend it to my will. It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen. It should go to the Keepers of the Three.'

And later in the chapter:

'My king,' said Elendur, 'Ciryon is dead and Aratan is dying. Your last counsellor must advise, nay command you, as you commanded Ohtar. Go! Take your burden, and at all cost bring it to the Keepers: even at the cost of abandoning your men and me!'

'King's son,' said Isildur, 'I knew that I must do so; but I feared the pain. Nor could I go without your leave. Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.'

Earlier in the chapter, we also get this passage talking about Isildur:

When he at last felt free to return to his own realm he was in haste, and he wished to go first to Imladris; for he had left his wife and youngest son there, and he had moreover and urgent need for the counsel of Elrond.

Nearer to the end of the chapter, when talking about Isildur's death, Tolkien writes this:

There suddenly he knew that the Ring had gone. By chance, or chance well used, it had left his hand and gone where he could never hope to find it again. At first so overwhelming was his sense of loss that he struggled no more, and would have sunk and drowned. But swift as it had come the mood passed. The pain had left him. A great burden had been taken away. There he rose up out of the water: only a mortal man, a small creature lost and abandoned in the wilds of Middle-Earth. But to the night-eyed Orcs that lurked there on the watch he loomed up, a monstrous shadow of fear, with a piercing eye like a star. They loosed their poisoned arrows at it, and fled.

And last from this chapter, this bit about the Ring itself:

It was little more than two years since it had left his [Sauron's] hand, and though it was swiftly cooling it was still heavy with his evil will, and seeking all means to return to its lord.

So what does this tell us? And in addition, where was I coming to with Elrond & Isildur friendship?

1. For all of Isildur's refusal to give up the Ring after the war ended here:

'Alas! yes,' said Elrond. 'Isildur took it, as should not have been. It should have been cast then into Orodruin's fire nigh at hand where it was made. But few marked what Isildur did. He alone stood by his father in that last mortal contest; and by Gil-galad only Círdan stood, and I. But Isildur would not listen to our counsel.

' "This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother," he said; and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it.

- The Council of Elrond, Fellowship of the Ring

Isildur realized he was wrong. The Ring was still at its most evil, and it wanted to corrupt him, it wanted to go back to Sauron, yet Isildur resisted enough to be able to almost give up the Ring willingly or at least consider it.

When he was slain, he was already taking the Ring to Elrond. Whether he would have the strength to do it later, he resisted the Ring enough to at least consider it. How many would be able to do so? Of course, there was the factor of the very touch of the Ring paining him, but compared with the Ring's will, that's hardly enough to convince a man to give it up.

And at last, when the Ring slipped from his finger, he did not dive after it. He gave it up, and swam away; and even as the orcs killed him, they killed him a free man.

2. He was bringing the Ring to Elrond. At the very beginning I said this post is about Elrond's and Isildur's friendship, and finally, I am talking about it.

It should go to the Keepers of the Three, Isildur says of the Ring - and for that, he would have to know who the Keepers are, or at least know of someone who knows. And it is said repeatedly that he seeks Elrond's counsel, that he goes to Imladris; did he know Elrond has Vilya?

The location of the Three is one of the greatest secrets kept from Sauron, and it is said many times that almost no one knew of it. Did Isildur know, suspect? In addition to this, Elendur seems to have the same knowledge, which, as he is repeatedly called Isildur's greatest confidant, isn't much of a wonder.

All in all, Isildur either connected the dots well enough to realize that out of all high elven lords, it is Elrond bears a ring of power (and Isildur is clever, this is a possibility); or Elrond was not careful enough and Isildur figured it out from his missteps (which, considering Elrond's experience with cursed jewellery isn't very likely); or Elrond gave him hints on purpose; or he just. Straight up told him.

The last two options seem to be most likely to me, which brings me to Elrond trusting Isildur enough to reveal such a secret to him, which leads me to my Elrond and Isildur are friends agenda.

Should the first option be true, props to Isildur for figuring it out by himself without any clues from Elrond other than him being important. Should Isildur be bringing the Ring to Elrond in hopes that Elrond knows who the Keepers of the Three are, without knowing Elrond is one of them, it still shows Isildur trusted Elrond enough to bring him the Ring even for temporary keeping.

(there is also the matter of whether Isildur knows the other Keepers of the Three, as he mentions them a few times, but never enough to indicate if he knows who they are)

3. Parallels. It is said that Elendil and Gil-galad, the two high kings of their people are friends. Is it really so unlikely that Elrond, Gil-galad's herald (and possibly heir, even though he took no crown), and most trusted advisor besides Círdan; and Isildur, the heir of Elendil the Tall and his second in command, would strike a friendship?

The Isildur we are presented with is both bold and wise - he saves the fruit of the White Tree of Númenor alone because it needs to be done, and then he does it again, and he does it because it's the best for his people. He takes the Ring, and tries to make it listen to him, and realizes he made a mistake; he tries to fix it, and wants to bring it to Elrond.

The Isildur we are presented with has courage, and wisdom, and hope.

Do you know what does this remind me of?

Edain. Their ideals. The reasons why they got the gift of Númenor, greater wisdom, longer lives.

They resisted the evil, no matter how strong; they were loyal, true to their beliefs, brave and courageous.

Elros was chosen as the king of the Edain and really, I highly doubt Edain would choose him as a king just because of his heritage, or because someone told them to do so. Sure, someone could have pointed out Elros to them and say 'hey, look at this dude, he could be a nice king, what do you think?' but in the end, while they might start following Elros because someone else told them, I doubt they would let themselves be led by someone who wasn't the best representation of them. In Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth, Andreth does not shy away from telling Finrod her beliefs, the beliefs of her people. And I don't think that changed with time.

What am I trying to say? I think Elros and Isildur were both similar in many ways, in ways that made them the leaders they were - and that in a way, Elrond saw Elros in Isildur, as well as himself; for Elrond still connected strongly with his mortal kin, and as I mentioned earlier, their political positions were similar.

And while Isildur was his own person and had done things neither Elros or Elrond would have done, and had his own good and bad qualities, it doesn't erase the similarities.

4. Aragorn was raised in Rivendell, by his mother and Elrond and his people. Of all the people there, it is easy to see which ones would influence him the most: Gilraen, Elrond, Elladan, Elrohir. It is repeatedly shown how close he was to them. To some extent we may include Glorfindel, for they were friends, but not as much as the above mentioned four.

Now, as Estel, he wasn't aware of his heritage. He is shown to be proud of his heritage, of his descend from Isildur; and yes, this could be a simple pride in one's ancestors. It could have been that he simply liked Isildur as a historical legendary figure and it became greater after he learnt of his descend from him. Or it could have been that he was told many tales of Isildur, of his deeds and personality, and his family, and decided I want to be like him, and like Elendil, even without knowing he was in any way related to them.

And really, when it comes to the above-mentioned people, who would be the most likely to tell him stories of Isildur? Gilraen who only knew him from stories, or Glorfindel who was never mentioned around Isildur in the books, or Elladan and Elrohir, born after Isildur's death, who could have any number of first-hand stories about hundreds of Aragorn's cool ancestors but not Isildur himself?

All I am saying is there is a potential for Elrond to be telling stories of his old friend Isildur and Elendil and Gil-galad to Estel, and Estel loving them.

There is also the fact that in the chapter The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, Elendur, Isildur's son, is said to be very similar to Aragorn. And I love the idea of Elrond's and Isildur's sons paralleling each other, in a strange way, thousands of years apart.

5. In the books themselves, we do no see Elrond speaking about Isildur much. (I checked almost every mention of Isildur in most of my Tolkien books. So yeah.) On the Council of Elrond, Elrond talks about Isildur the most, but it is mainly in historical manner and 'the Ring should have been destroyed that day' manner, as you can see in the passage from the book I mentioned above in point 1.

This doesn't tell us much about their relationship, much less their friendship - and thus as a source for my image of them as friends, I give the place to The Disaster of the Gladden Fields, thinking they would make a good duo, and the potential of how Isildur's death may have had affected Elrond.

Isildur's death was unexpected. No one expected the road not to be safe - there is a reason why Isildur and his men were unprepared for a battle. They were simply journeying on a familiar road, to Rivendell and then Arnor. Not even the Orcs that ambushed them knew of the Ring. In Rivendell, they learnt of what happened only thanks to Ohtar, Isildur's squire who survived; and even then, the specific circumstances of his death were not revealed until Aragorn found Elendilmir and the chain which bore the Ring among Saruman's things.

In all honesty, I don't think even Elrond knew Isildur planned on giving him the Ring. I do not doubt he expected him, for his wife and youngest son were in Imladris - but I found no reason as to why he might know of Isildur's plans with the Ring.

That could give him a reason to speak ill of Isildur, couldn't it? Yet when he speaks of him, he only speaks of facts and what should have been done - he doesn't call Isildur too weak to give up the ring, or power-hungry, or proud - and by the latter, Isildur calls himself several times (as can be seen here, in the passages I used above)

It needs one greater than I know myself to be. My pride has fallen.

And here:

Forgive me, and my pride that has brought you to this doom.

And yes, it was a formal Council - Elrond had no reason to speak of his personal feelings towards Isildur. Yet I think the little he said reflects his thoughts well. He might have felt some bitterness towards him, especially as he later learnt what the Ring's nature truly was; and especially as he had no knowledge of Isildur being willing to give the Ring to him, for better or worse, whether he would find the strength to do so or not.

Still, once Elrond learnt of the Ring's Nature, I think he might have understood Isildur better - especially as he himself did not dare to even touch the Ring.

[maplecornia]

chapter 53

infinite stars masterlist | BTS masterlist | masterlist | playlist

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 2.97K

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: bts x female!reader

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: it scares me, but that doesn't mean I have a right to keep you from it

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language | mentions of rape | childhood trauma | multiple forms of abuse | mentions of blood and injuries | toxic relationships | mentions of alcohol and drugs

taglist [OPEN]: @myork | @eunbinism | @soobmint | @jaeyunverse | @hyunjxnxee | @yesv01 | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne | @rae-bear | @mangminnie | @plxlekoo (not taggable) | @cana | @eridanuswave | @missseoulite | @kodzuskook | @gongiz | @uno7

BangPD is furious.

Namjoon sits in the suffocating silence that suppresses the room, the tension rising every minute. He is aware of what happened the other day, the entire room is, how could they not be? The paparazzi got plenty of pictures, as did the fans who gathered that day, and within seconds of the incident, those pictures were plastered over every social media page, with questions surrounding them. Questions directed towards HYBE, towards BTS, and the pair in the photos themselves.

Why was she with Taehyung?

Why did Taehyung hide her face?

Is she a staff member? 

Are they dating?

And perhaps the most important, and detrimental question of all...

Who was she?

So yes, as we noted before, Bang Sihyuk is furious.

However, what I failed to mention is that Namjoon is just as furious. Perhaps even more so. 

You may think that there isn't much to be furious about, after all, despite Yen's worries, no one was able to see her face, nor were they able to identify her based on the pictures, and the way that Taehyung practically buried her face in his chest. Their worst fear wasn't realized, and her identity was concealed.

And yet, the public would not let it go.

They wouldn't let it go, they couldn't let it go. 

Maybe that was the allure of the story.

The fact that they don't know who she is, or why Taehyung was so adamant about protecting her. Perhaps the mere mystery of the event is what has the entire world speculating and talking. 

Though none of them know the real story. 

And the frustrating part is, neither Namjoon nor Bang Sihyuk or any one of the other members knows it either. 

That story is Yen's and Taehyung's alone. 

And perhaps that is the worst part of this entire situation. 

Namjoon glances over his clasped hands resting against the tip of his lip and finds his eyes resting on Taehyung, where he finds himself faintly recalling the last time he warned him about his involvement with Yen. His fiery eyes, the spite, and anger so clearly written within them were so evident back then. Almost as though Namjoon's warning was sickening to him, as though he were unwilling to accept the burden that was bestowed upon him just as the very name he wears around his neck. Namjoon narrows his eyes at the memory, his hands tightening. 

He wasn't willing to listen back then, but now that the consequences are beginning to fall, will he be willing to listen now? 

Namjoon doubts it.

Based on the steely way he stares forward, unwilling to meet anyone's eyes, nor accept the blame, for what has he done wrong? What has he done that any normal person wouldn't be looked twice at for doing? He did the best he could in that situation, even if it was mostly fueled by his emotions. He doesn't understand why he can no longer follow his emotions, why he can no longer follow what his heart longs for him to do. Why must he listen to and follow the steps to a life he doesn't want to be tied to.

Why can he be an idol without the burden?

Why can't he perform without the expectation to keep up the mask?

If only Bang Sihyuk had the same ideals that Kim Taehyung now bestows, and perhaps he did in the past. When no one knew his name, and no one knew theirs. Perhaps he was able to take that chance, that risk, back when things were simpler when there would be no consequences left to follow him. 

But things are not as they were back then.

And they never will be. 

The file that he has been keeping safe in his desk drawer makes a satisfying and startling slam on the oak table as he throws it, his anger and frustration fueled by the action and gathering the attention of the entire room as the sound fills up the silence and brings with it a new wave of unspoken tensed repression.

"Careless." 

BangPD practically spits out the word from his lips, his eyes narrowing as he stares at the contents which have spilled from the bright orange folder and decorating his desk in their defecation. Multiple photos, of different angles, all of the same pair of people. But it's not the photos that worry the former CEO, as much as it is the words and presumptions that decorated each cover page. 

What exactly did BTS do during Enlistment?

Who is the Woman Behind the Mask?

A new album may not be the only surprise from BTS this month.

HYBE refuses to comment on this new development.

Fans Devastated at the Possibility of BTS in Relationships.

Taehyung in Affair with a Staff Member? 

"You were careless."

Namjoon grits his teeth, looking once more at Taehyung who has not even moved from his current position, the only sign of reaction being the tight clench of his fist against his knee.

"Sir--" Jimin begins, trying to douse the tension before it lights, but BangPD holds up his hand and gives him a stern look which quickly cuts him off, whatever sentence had begun to form from his lips, dying in his throat. Turning to the rest of the room, Bang Sihyuk focuses his attention on Namjoon, who takes a deep breath before meeting his stony eyes. 

"So?" 

"Sir?" 

The chairman scoffs bitterly at his cluelessness, and gestures towards the mess of unreleased articles that adorn his desk, raising an expectant eyebrow towards the young man. He's the leader, he should know above all else what could happen if this escalates any more than it has. And he should know that it's on him if anything happens to his fellow members.

If anything happens to Yen herself. 

"What's your plan? How are you going to clean up this mess?" 

Turning his attention to the rest of the room, Bang Sihyuk is keen on making sure he meets everyone's eyes, holding them a considerable second before moving on to the next. This reflects on all of them if anything goes wrong. "What are you going to do if this jeopardizes everything we've fought so hard to build?" 

Her future lies in their hands. 

And now it's as though they are trying to destroy it.

"If this is strong enough to destroy everything, then it was built on quite a fragile foundation, wasn't it sir?" 

Yoongi's bitter, almost spiteful remark nearly suffocates the room of all signs of life and redemption. RM runs his hands over his face at the sign of this new conflict, the rest of the room too scared to even move after Yoongi spoke so completely out of turn the way he did. It was clear that the phrase had hit its mark, just as Yoongi expected it to.

After all, BangPD created this foundation.

If it falls, whose fault is it really?

It shocks even BangPD. Yoongi has always had respect, even when he didn't agree with his choices, not once has he acted this way. 

But, as it so happens, no one is like they once were before.

Rattled as he may be, the former CEO takes a deep breath before pushing forward some more photos, this time of a different source.

And of a different pair all on their own. 

"Not on its own, Yoongi. But with enough support..." 

Jimin steps forward, trying to get a better view of the granulated pictures, and freezes once he catches sight of the couple brandished on the glossy luster. For it's her face, and there's him, smiling next to her. 

He got his wish, but at what cost?

"It's enough to destroy your future and hers."

Jimin practically stumbles as he steps back, Hoseok just barely catching him before he falls. Namjoon swallows hard, staring intently at the cluster of photos gathering on the lustrous oak surface of the desk, and can feel his resolve shattering, the burden taking root and painfully embedding the chains that once held him caged for so long back in their wounds. And at the silence from the rest of the room, he knows that they have come to the same realization. 

Whether it be their trainee or her mother, they are both equally at risk. As they are now affiliated with BTS, they are now expected to carry the burden. And this burden won't nearly be as kind.

For those who look on would spare them nothing of the sort in their vendetta to destroy anything BTS cherishes outside of their fantasy. 

For that is the curse of the idol.

A curse that has now generously found its mark on the one they had fought so desperately to protect.

"There are people who want to destroy you, and if it takes destroying her as well, then that is what they will do."

It's a crippling truth, but the truth that they all must now face, even Taehyung, no matter how much he wishes he could deny it. Their involvement with her is perhaps the most detrimental thing to Yen's future. 

"This is the burden you all must face, the burden you must be aware of and carry."

It could douse Yen's light just as quickly as it was lit. Their mere connection with her can make it near impossible for her to achieve her dream. 

"It is the burden of an idol, and the burden of BTS."

What a burden indeed.

One that gives the world their happiness, but at the expense of your own.

"Does Jiwon know?" 

At the question, BangPD is slightly surprised to find no resistance. Maybe it's because the question came from Namjoon himself, but he can see the compliance in everyone, even Taehyung. While he is relieved, he cannot help but find a sort of sadness in their acceptance. After all, they are giving up such an important part of themselves to protect those they care about.

And perhaps a small part of him, the part that started everything with a desire to change the very world he sought success in, starts to awaken. Perhaps it has opened its eyes after so long to finally see just how far he has fallen into what he has hated.

But for now, Bang Sihyuk chooses to ignore the stirring.

"No, thankfully I have managed to keep it from him, but who knows how long that will last." It was lucky that the reporters still go to Bang Sihyuk before anything else, and have stayed true to their agreement, but Sihyuk is aware that will not last long. There is only so much you can pay a reporter off before the story becomes too big to waste on a mere buck or two. 

"What do we need to do?" Jin asks from where he sits next to Namjoon, his eyes dark and his entire demeanor nearly seeming to cave in from within himself. 

"What I've asked you to do. I never prevented you from dating, nor do I plan on doing so now, heaven knows you wouldn't listen anyway." While this is true, Bangtan knows that the rule still existed. Invisibly hanging over their heads to remind them that even if they did have a relationship, being BTS would ensure they could never commit to it. At least, not fully. 

"But you need to be careful. Since you've been back it's like you've forgotten how spiteful the world can be. You've been so careless it's as though you've forgotten the consequences."

Namjoon can't help but wonder who decides the consequences, and why they must exist. In a way, he understands Taehyung's frustration. It doesn't mean he agrees with him, nor does it mean he supports whatever inexplainable attraction Tae seems to have with his assistant, but he does understand him. After all, who gets to decide the makings of their heart?

And why does the public believe they have sole power over it?

"Remember them." 

"Don't lie to them." BangPD turns once more to Yoongi who sits on the far side of the room, his face shrouded in shadow. As soon as he speaks, however, he glares right at his CEO, a chilling look filled with the fury of a thousand words unspoken, a million emotions repressed over the years. "We never had a choice, not really. You'll give us 'freedom' and 'choices' but really, it's just you keeping us on a very short leash." And he knows this, they all know this because that was what he had to do, that was what was required for him to do his job. To be an idol. "We're meant to sit still, stand where they tell us to, smile when we need to, cry only when it's beneficial for our image."

But what does it mean to be an idol?

What does it mean to maintain the persona of "Suga"?

And when does he finally get a chance to understand who "Yoongi" is?

BangPD is unable to refute Yoongi's claims, anyone paying attention wouldn't be able to no matter how hard they tried. After all, it's what they've been doing all along, what they'll continue doing as long as they remain BTS.

And it's what Yen will find herself enthralled within.

Once she debuts, those chains will finally find their grip on her heart.

And maybe that's what he's really afraid of.

What they're all afraid of. 

"Don't tell Yen about this." So when Tae speaks, that is the real reason behind his phrase. That is the real reason he even makes the request. "You can't tell her about this, please." 

And though his goal is to protect her, he isn't entirely sure what it's from himself, he doesn't quite understand the reason behind this silence. Perhaps it lies in the way she blossoms each time she sings, the way her cheeks flush in pride when she improves in her dance, or maybe it's in the way her eyes sparkle each time she talks about her dream. 

He doesn't want to douse that light.

He doesn't want the world to damage her the same way it's torn him apart. 

"I won't, but I was going to tell her anyway." At the phrase, Hoseok looks over at Bang Sihyuk, a spark of doubt beginning to rise to flame in his heart. It's existed for a while now, ever since Jiwon made his decision, but he had never imagined it would ignite because of a man he trusted. "If she knew, she would run away. No, we need her, we can't afford to lose her, especially now." 

But perhaps that is the exact reason it rises aflame.

Because he can no longer trust him.

"You want to lie to her?" His question is soft-spoken, almost inaudible, but holds the intensity of a shout, and echoes around the room as though he had done so. And while Bang Sihyuk understands he has made a mistake, he doesn't understand where he went wrong. 

"It's better if she doesn't know, Jhope." 

It doesn't occur to him that he has already begun to view Yen as a piece of merchandise meant to benefit him, and not as a living breathing human as she was always meant to be. 

"Better for who? For you? Or for her? Nowadays, it's getting harder and harder to tell who exactly this is for." 

But it occurs to Hoseok, it occurs to the rest of the room. Because that is what they are viewed as; that is what they have been dehumanized as. To be made examples of, to be sold and purchased for the public's enjoyment. They have already been numbed to porcelain. They do not wish the same fate for Yen. 

"Hoseok, please try to understand." 

But what he doesn't realize is that is the exact reason why Hoseok cannot find it within himself to understand. 

"You don't need me to understand, you're going to do it anyway with or without my approval, what you want is the assurance I'll stay quiet, isn't that right sir?" BangPD is at a loss for words, and as Jhope realizes that he himself cannot recognize just what he has done to them, or what he is now expecting them to help him do to her; the last ounce of trust and respect he once held for this man dies. He smiles sadly, shaking his head before responding. 

"You don't have to worry. I don't have a choice in the matter, do I?" And he would have ended it there, he wouldn't have said another word and would have been resigned to watch as Bang Sihyuk destroyed someone else for an allusion to their dream. 

But then he remembers Yen. 

He remembers her smile and her joy and her hope. He remembers the fire that burns within her heart and the strength that lies deep within. And as he remembers her, he remembers the way he used to look. He remembers the fire within his own heart, and he wonders when it began to die. When it slowly but surely dimmed until there was nothing left.

He refuses to let Yen suffer that same fate.

"Tell me, when will it be enough? How many more times are you going to push her? Until she finally breaks?" 

No one knows the answer to the question, least of all BangPD, and if Hoseok was honest with himself, he doesn't know it either. 

Maybe that was the scariest part of it all, the fact that for the first time since their debut, their future was completely unknown, and with it, so was hers. And so the question remains in the air and in their mind, just as empty and forgotten as they themselves have become.

An empty husk of all that they once were.

chapter 54 here

note :: i love how with each chapter we just fall further and further into the angst

[austarus]

Timeless!Harrison Wells x Reader - White King, Black Queen

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 2267

You narrowed your eyes as the city continued to bustle, noise from people and cars emitted in the air. Clouds hung sparsely over Central City as the waning moon took the place of the sun high in the sky. The wind blew a light breeze through your hair. You kicked a leg back and forth gently as you sat on the edge of the STAR Labs tower wings. Your other leg was bent close to your body, an arm resting over your knee. The height didn’t scare you so much as it used to. In fact, you didn’t mind being so close to the edge anymore. If you fell, then you fell. Truth be told, your powers would save you whether you willed it to or not. Some would say it’s a curse, others not so much. Your umbrakinesis acted like a defense mechanism at those times. A sigh left your lips as you straightened up your back, cracking it. Relief echoed through your body, but your heart felt heavy. Time is ticking... You knew what was happening downstairs, Gideon had alerted you when someone entered the Time Vault. It wouldn’t be completely wrong to say that you didn’t want to face him – couldn’t get attached since he’d been here. Not again. Staying up here was your way of avoiding that problem until… Until what, though?

The hair at the back of your neck stood up, a chill ran down your spine as your shadows alerted you of a presence a distance behind you. Turning your head slightly, you sent an icy look to the one person you dreaded to see. The face of the man you had seen pass one too many times. Their looks from their final moments imprinted in your mind for this one to come back. He was the last thing you had of them.

Harrison Wells.

A small smile was on his face, his hair tousled with his clear-framed glasses perched on his nose. He knew you’d be up here. The others told him you’d been up here since his reincarnation into the world. Since he’d made contact with Team Flash to help them and explain his predicament of currently living. But really, Harrison would have known if no one had told him. He had sensed it. Seen it – the images flickered past in his brain. The other versions of himself with you up here – the foreign familiarness that he personally did not experience.

But nothing more than a dreadful reminder of what’s past.

“I’ve come to say good-bye,” the genius started in a soft voice, wanting to approach you carefully. Your glare bothered him, yet he knows it shouldn’t, for once Harrison leaves, he will be united with Tess, the love of his life. Over and over and over again.

You snorted, turning your gaze to the stars that twinkled away from the clouds. You could see the constellations of Cassiopeia, winking brightly light-years away. “Such a shame, you could have helped them with Godspeed.” A bitter laugh left your lips as you recalled Nash showing you how to recognize the constellations and where to navigate from there. Sherloque would drink his tea up here with you and converse about his cases. HR would read to you his latest ideas and novels while you gave your input. You would drag Harry out of his lab to get some fresh air. And Eobard… he was the one who showed you this view, before Barry had woken up, before the Particle Accelerator had gone online.

“Team Flash is more than capable of handling threats on their own.”

“I take it you think that having a Wells must be a handicap, hm?”

“I never said that.”

“Hmph.”

“I couldn’t leave without telling you good-bye.” You pressed your lips thinly and Harrison continued, pocketing his hands in his dark coat. “It didn’t feel right to go without saying that.”  The night was getting colder, yet you remained out here in a thin jacket. Dare he say, he worried a bit?  You turned to fully look at him from your seated position. “I… won’t deny the sentiment I feel towards you. The memories of the past Wells. Their thoughts – well, previous thoughts – and feelings are still here.” Harrison had gestured to his head then placed a hand on his heart. Bile rose at the back of your throat as the smiling images of the boys hit your mind. You bit your lip hard as he spoke, “Each one of them felt strongly for you, but I’m not them. They’d want you to move on. To live-”

“No!” Your patience snapped, standing up rapidly with expert footing. Shadows went rampant in the night, wind howling in his ears. “You don’t get to say that!” Darkness immediately consumed the atmosphere and air around you both. Unbridled anger licked up in your heart and soul as you took heavy steps towards him. Harrison couldn’t see, but he could feel the moving darkness as he stood his ground. “You have no right to act all high and mighty towards me.” A hiss left his lips as a dark particle lashed at his arm, burning through his coat and marring his skin just as he heard your anger burn in your next words. “You don’t understand the strings that fate has chained me with! Nor will you ever understand my burden.”

***Flashback***

“What is it that you want?” You glared at the entity. The Monitor had appeared in your kitchen as you were pouring yourself some alcohol to enjoy your quiet night. You had taken some time away from all the heroes and villains running around.

“I came because I require your assistance for the Crisis.”

“Pass, I’m not in the mood to play the hero.”

“The point is not to be a hero or the villain, but to honor fate’s will.”

“Well fate can go hump a stump for all I care,” you sipped on your choice of alcohol, you turned away from the eternal entity only to find him in front of you right as you had exited your kitchen. A deep frown crossed your features. This is such a drag.

“Fate has bound your life to Harrison Wells the moment you first met him years ago.”

“False, that was Eobard masquerading as Wells. So, technically no.”

“That technicality may be so, but fate saw the speedster as your gateway to the rest of them. Without Thawne you would not have been so tied to Harrison Wells’ existence.” Rolling your eyes, you took another sip, already knowing you’d need a couple of glasses to forget about this interaction. “Your life is bound to his. To them.” The Monitor had you right where he wanted you, pushing images into your mind to allow you to see reason. “You were a lover.” You flinched as the image of Eobard appeared in your mind. “A partner.” Harry. “A friend.” HR. “And a confidante.” Sherloque. “Now this one needs you as well, he is in danger of himself with the Anti-monitor. My opposite entity.” You knew he was referring to Nash, the multiverse explorer with the haughty attitude and snarky comments.

“…”

“You are the anomaly that exists in the multiverse, there is no other in your position.” The entity saw the hesitation flicker in your being. “The time has come for you to be his protector.”

***Time Skip***

Nash panted, on the ground of this desolate land on his hands and knees. His mouth felt dry, tasting iron in his mouth from the blood on his split lip. How much longer can he endure this? The Anti-monitor continued to laugh at him, to mock him, for his weakness. Pariah gripped hard at the dirty snow, blood and mud defiled the pure whiteness. He couldn’t get back up. His body ached. No matter how hard Nash tried to push back, the Anti-monitor was too strong for him even with these temporary powers.

“Humans are such fickle beings,” the anti-entity spoke in a grand manner, “Soon the multiverse will be mine and there shall be no flaws. No humans to corrupt my domain.” The eternal being gathered his divine power into the palm of his hand and fired anti-matter at his appointed Pariah. The one to bear witness of the end of the multiverse. His curse.

Nash shut his eyes; this was the end. This was his end. A breath left him, what he expected to be his final breath. But the final blow never came. Ringing greeted Nash’s ears as he opened his eyes. Standing in front of him, shielding his body was you and your dark powers. For whatever reason it withstood the anti-matter as particles clashed against one another. You stood defiantly and gracefully in your fighting positions, conjuring your dark spectacles from every shaded corner.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking monster.” You growled, your hands working magnificently to bind the Anti-monitor down. Once bound your umbra became spears and swords that pierced through the entity. While it could not kill the Anti-monitor, it slowed him down – meaning it would slow down his assault on Nash. You needed to get him to safety, needed him to have enough strength to teleport you two away from this dimension. And that’s exactly what you convinced him to do when you grabbed him, hugging his injured body to yourself as he fought to stay conscious.

***End Flashback***

“You don’t understand what loss truly is! You don’t get how hard it is to move on from this.” Just as you had moved, so had Harrison. A dagger of darkness at his throat, clenching the front of his cloak as he held a dagger of light to your own throat. Harrison  gritted his teeth as he used his powers to light up the area in his green light. “This pain, the misery of losing over and over and over again. To bear the burden of fate’s strings only to watch them all fall.” He flinched at how the veins around your eyes had darkened to a charcoal color. His throat dried as fear hit him. Harry’s memory flashed into his mind – the memory of you in this state, accidentally killing a meta in self-defense. “You’re just a selfish man, running away from what’s in front of him.” Harrison’s light battled against your darkness to keep the physical manifestations of umbra away from harming his body. “I despise people like that.”

“I’m only doing what’s best for me.”

“By what, Harrison? Running to the past? What’s in the past is best left in the past, those who hold on to the past don’t appreciate the present.”

“Such hypocritical words coming from someone who sulks around up here for what once was.”

“You don’t fucking know anything about me. All you have are some second-hand memories, but you don’t truly know me and what I’ve been through. You’re just like Barry.”

“And you’re any different?”

“At least I know the difference between reality and a desperate dream.”

“…” He knew Tess is doomed to die for time to flow, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cherish every second with her until it was time. Maybe he was a desperate man chasing after a desperate dream, but he would until the bitter end. For Tess.

“A Time Loop is just a miserable notion for you to see Tess when her destiny is already a fixed time point. Just like Barry’s mother. Their deaths are absolute. Even with your Timeless powers you can’t interfere with what’s set in place.”

“That may be so, but I’ve fulfilled my part here – at least I have someone to return home to, even if they are doomed to die. I could be by her side over and over again.”

Harrison’s words pierced your heart, you pushed the tears back. The ache in your heart throbbed at a greater rate. At least… he had the power to return to his someone… The genius saw the haunting dejection in your eyes, the way your shoulders quivered as you tried to keep yourself together. He regretted the words that left his mouth…

“Do as you please,” you whispered, loosening your grip on his jacket to let him go. The darkness dissipated as you walked back to your perch with pocketed hands. “I’m done begging…” You mumbled to yourself so quietly that he didn’t catch your last statement. A tear left your eyes as you stood tall where you once sat.

“Good-bye,” Harrison murmured to the wind drifting in your direction before turning and leaving. A part of him felt torn by the things he had spat at you. What’s done is done. I doubt I’ll be back here any time soon. Clenching and unclenching his hand, Harrison shut his eyes and summoned his powers to pass through time. Tess, I’m coming home.

“Good-bye, Harrison.” Another tear fell, this time you wiped it as the night continued. He was gone. They were gone. You were alone, once again spectacularly alone and cold.

The pieces are all in place. The time has come…

Time still ticked as seconds went bye. A voice whispered at the back of your mind; the presence residing there since his exorcism. The one that kept you company through all this.

“It’s time, my queen.”

Checkmate

[ginnympotter]

if you are still doing prompts can you do #50 with hinny pls! And if at all possible can u please do it with jily alive, imma sucker for those!:)

“Shh, stop fussing,” Harry said, trying to soothe her. “I’m just braiding your hair.”

“Don’t shush me,” she muttered, hugging the toilet. “When did you learn how to braid hair, anyway?”

“Mum taught me,” he told her, as he carefully wove her ginger locks together into a tight plait. “On Sirius.”

Despite her current disposition, Ginny let out a short chuckle. “What?”

“When I was seven, Sirius went through a long hair phase. He was trying to grow it longer than my mum’s,” he explained. “They can tell you about it at the table. You have a hair tie?”

Ginny stuck out a hand, and Harry gently pulled off the black tie from her wrist. He tied up the end of her plait and put his hands on her shoulders. “There. Now your hair won’t be in the way.”

She looked back at him, her face soft and pale. “Thank you.”

“You think you’ve finished?”

She nodded. “For now.”

Harry stood up, flushed the toilet one more time for good measure, and then offered his hand to Ginny and helped her up. “You think you’ll be able to get through the rest of lunch?”

“I’m hoping,” she said, attempting a smile. “You go back out there, I’m just gonna brush my teeth...again.”

He kissed her cheek and left the bathroom. When he returned to the dining room, James and Sirius were caught up in a heated debate about whether flying the motorbike or a broom was a more efficient way of travelling. Lily had a knowing look on her face as Harry sat back down, which made Harry want to avoid her eyes, afraid his own would confirm it.

She played along, anyway. “Is Ginny alright, love?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’ll be out in a moment,” he assured her, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

Sirius halted his argument with James to add, “I did think she seemed a bit off-color when we got here.”

Of course Sirius decided to become observant when they were trying to keep something private. He was glad to have an excuse to change the subject. “I was just telling her about your long hair phase when I was a kid, remember that?”

“My glory days, you mean?” Sirius reminisced wistfully. He looked at James and Lily. “You think I should grow it out again?”

“No,” said James at the same time as Lily said “yes.”

“What Evans says goes,” Sirius smiled.

Just then, Ginny emerged from the bathroom and joined them at the table. She sat down and muttered, “Sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” James waved off, pouring her a glass of water. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yes, thank you.” She squeezed Harry’s thigh with one hand and took the water in the other. Harry took that as his cue to take lead of the conversation.

“Ginny wanted to hear about how I learned to braid hair,” Harry told them.

Sirius and Lily laughed as James dug into more food. “I had just cut my hair,” started Lily. “Shoulder-length. And Sirius’s hair was getting pretty long, he was about to cut it himself when we realized it was about the same length.”

“So we had a contest,” Sirius said. “Who could grow out their hair longer, faster.”

“It was a pretty close call,” James joined in.

“But eventually I got tired of only donning a man-bun. It was time to change up my style. So I asked my dear sister here to teach me how to braid my hair. Even though I could’ve just used my wand, now that I’m thinking about it.”

“So Sirius practiced on me,” Lily recalled. “And Harry watched, and then we got him to braid Sirius’s hair for him. I said, ‘my love, one day this is going to be a skill that will come in handy in one way or another,’ and any time spent with Sirius was time well spent for Harry.”

“Still feel that way, kid?” Sirius asked Harry, grinning.

Harry shrugged playfully and Ginny laughed, bringing some color back into her face. “Depends on the day.”

“I get it, you’re married now,” Sirius lamented as he ruffled his own hair, much shorter than it was back then. “But I guess Ginny has me to thank for that lovely plait, given all the hair you ripped out of my head practicing.”

“No hairs were ripped out in the making of this plait,” Ginny assured them, smiling. She reached for a roll and took a small bite. Harry could tell she was hungry but scared to eat anything more. She swallowed. “Thank you for teaching him, most helpful.”

“Remember how we used to have braid-offs?” said James, his arm around Lily. “To see if Harry or I could braid faster?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry laughed, recollecting it. “Whoever was braiding Mum’s hair always won,” he told Ginny, holding her hand on his thigh. “Because hers was much easier to work with than Sirius’s.”

As Sirius took great offense to this and started going on about how female conditioner is better than male conditioner and it took him a year to figure that out and make the switch, Harry looked over at his wife and saw her scrunching up her features. “You ok?” he asked, quiet but concerned.

“I thought I was done, but…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose and out through her mouth. “I don’t think that’s the case.”

And then she stood up abruptly, mumbled, “excuse me,” and ran down the hall, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

They all went quiet, staring at the closed door.

James spoke first. “Is she alright? If Ginny’s sick we can get going, you can take care of her.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s-” he stammered, unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“Harry,” said Lily, compassion in her voice. She knew. Harry knew she knew. She smiled at him. “Go check up on her, let her decide.”

He could tell she meant let her decide if she wants to tell them the news more than decide if they should leave. Harry nodded, getting up from his seat and apologizing. “Sorry, be right back.”

He walked quickly down the hall and knocked on the door. “It’s me,” he said. “Can I come in?”

Harry heard her clear her voice before responding, “Yes.”

There she was on the floor again, head hanging in defeat over the toilet, a sight that Harry has been saddened to become so familiar with over the past couple of weeks, despite the otherwise wonderful cause of it.

He shut the door behind him, and squatted down on the floor, gently placing a hand on her back.

“Your mum so knows,” she grumbled. “Doesn’t she?”

“I suspect so, yeah,” he replied as she flushed the toilet. “Gin, if you don’t want to tell them yet we don’t have to, we can tell them you’re sick and they can go home.”

She shook her head slowly and turned her gaze to her husband. “No, let’s tell them. I want them to know. It’s just...we haven’t told anyone, you know? Saying it out loud makes it feel more real.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, of course not,” she clarified. “I’m so happy, you know that. But it’s still scary.”

He smiled, moving closer to her as he continued to rub her back. “They’ll help us.”

“I know they will,” she smiled back.

Harry helped her up again, and she moved to wash her hands and face. As she was finishing up he asked, “Are you sure you’re done?”

“Yeah, that was the last of it,” Ginny stated in reassurance. She rinsed with mouthwash and spit it out. “This baby better be worth all the vomit.”

Harry laughed, pulling her in, enveloping her in a hug with gentle arms. “It will be.”

She sighed against him, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, which then prompted him to lean down and kiss her on the mouth. She pulled away laughing. “You do not want to kiss me after that.”

“I always want to kiss you,” he told her in earnest. “You used mouthwash, it’s fine.”

“Harry-”

He caught her lips with his own, kissing her passionately. And how could he not? She was going to be the mother of their child. He felt so grateful to her, so guilty that she had to be the one to bear the bodily burden of it all. He hoped he could translate it all into his kiss.

Ginny must’ve understood- she always did - as she kissed him back with equal enthusiasm for a minute before pulling away again. “Harry,” she repeated, this time with tenderness in her voice.

“Sorry,” he said. He moved a stray hair from her braid and tucked it behind her ear. His heart was swelling. He could hold her all day. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she told him as her eyes softened. “Alright, let’s do this.”

They exited the bathroom together and approached the dining room table. Before they could even sit back down Sirius said, “Are you pregnant or something?”

James groaned and Lily smacked Sirius’s arm hard.

Sirius swore loudly, glaring at Lily. “What the hell, Evans?”

“That’s a rude question to ask, Pads,” James muttered.

“No tact,” Lily sighed in disappointment. “None, whatsoever!”

“I was just asking an innocent question! Her sprinting from the table just reminded me of you when you were pregnant with this one,” Sirius said, nudging his head towards his godson. Then he looked at them. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”

Before Harry could interject, Ginny said, “No, it’s ok. You’re right.”

The room fell quiet. James’s eyes widened. “Come again?”

“He’s right,” she repeated. “I am pregnant.”

“Surprise?” Harry offered.

There was a beat, and then Lily, James, and Sirius all started speaking at once, sharing their congratulations, shooting up out of their seats and moving to hug them. When Lily reached her son, she put both her hands on his face, and she had tears in her eyes.

Harry smiled. “You knew, right?”

“A mother always does,” she confirmed, giving him a kiss on the forehead. “You’ll learn that soon enough when Ginny suddenly becomes all-knowing.”

“She already is.”