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silkendandelion · 2 years ago

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Mirage In The Desert - Chapter 2 (3 Months Later)

Summary: Not everything is peaceful in paradise, and the circumstances of their relationship breed problems. Crocodile decides their relationship is not to last.

Rated Explicit for sexual content, mild violence, unsafe situations. Ongoing, will cover the Alabasta Arc. Cross-posted on Ao3, same username. Send me a DM: yell at me, send flowers. Cheers.

~*~

No one disobeyed Crocodile.

“I’ve never heard Mr. 0 that angry before, River. You might be calm but luckily for you, I worry enough for the both of us. So I declare, my Mr. i, that I refuse to let you go,” Bon Clay said as the former lit his cigarette, eyes fixed outside the window of the carriage.

“Mr. 2, you’re worrying for nothing. If he was going to have me killed for changing the plan or mouthing off, he would have done it months ago.” He exhaled the smoke out the window.

“I think he’s waiting for the perfect moment. And how about now when you’re so calm! At least let me take you to your front door. I don’t want you walking from the city limits anymore.”

“My home reveals my identity, you know we can’t go there. Rainbase is already a bit revealing but it’s a bit late for that.”

“I’ll bear the burden of your secret if it means you’re safe. Does your rich boyfriend know what kind of danger you’re in? Take me to him, I’ll make sure he can protect you with a little friendly sparring. I swear it’s friendly, I won’t even gloat when I beat his ass red and steal you away. Don’t laugh, why are you laughing? I’m completely serious.” Bon Clay smiled when they got their partner to do the same, finally looking relaxed rather than calm.

“That’s a beautiful smile, River baby.”

“I’ll call you if I have any problems… Ah, you have a gray hair.” He pointed.

“WHAT?!”

“Kidding! Goodnight, Bon Clay!” River said as he climbed out of the carriage, waving.

“What a mess… I hope he’s all right.” ____ ___ __ __

Even at night Rainbase managed to breathe and dance, filled with late nights bars and stalls of street food that tempted those who were stumbling back to their hotels with arms around their lovers. River stopped for a quick snack but was caught by a familiar merchant that knew his love of gold almost surpassed his love of jewels.

He smiled at him, waving him over. “Headed home, River? Come by real quick, we’ve had such a slow day and we missed you.”

“I know that isn’t true. But I have some time.” River showed his teeth, glad to be distracted from his side job by the sparkling tray of jewels the merchant produced from a glass case. He held up a pair of earrings inlaid with emeralds and sapphires, turning them to catch the light.

“These are new, I was saving them for you.” He looked around the shop. “Crocodile’s not with you tonight? It’s strange not to see you together.”

River's mouth twitched, frown almost imperceptible before it became his winning smile. “I had work tonight, I’m afraid. I won’t see him until later.”

“I have these for him, and I can have them sized and delivered in the morning—” His voice rattled on but River was only barely listening, gazing into the case.

“I’ll take that fountain pen. It’s beautiful, let me have that and the earrings. I’m sorry I can’t stay and chat, the day was long.”

“Of course. I’ll wrap these up.” The merchant prepared a satin box for both his purchases, receipt written but stuck to his outstretched hand when he paused. River was distracted, turned to stare at another display when the merchant spied a peculiar stain behind his ear.

Is that blood?

Dried and smeared to the back of his earring, it certainly looked like blood. He didn’t know what the islander did for work, he didn’t care to know too much about his customer’s outside their preferences, but that definitely looked like blood, perhaps he hurt himself, he should say something. So why couldn’t he speak?

“Something on my face?” River’s flat voice snapped him back. He took the receipt and managed a courteous smile despite how cold his eyes had looked, staring passed the merchant’s face and into his cells.

“Good—goodnight, River. Tell Crocodile I said we miss him.”

“Saludos.” ____ ___ __ _

In Crocodile’s suite, the warlord leaned back at his desk, blowing smoke to the ceiling as he listened to the voices in the hall. He could hear River, no doubt trying to assuage the servants that had tried to bring him dinner and were rejected, probably too harshly but he wouldn’t apologize. He’d dismissed Miss All Sunday as well for the evening already and would not be disturbed.

“I’ll take dinner, yes that would be wonderful, thank you. No worries.” He heard the door to the foyer shut, the gentle thud of River resting on the wood.

“Don’t yell at them. It’s a wonder they still feed you,” River called loudly throughout the quiet apartment, and Crocodile could feel his jaw threatening to cut his cigar in half.

“I see the walk did nothing to cool your head. Come here.” He said slowly, measuring each word to control his own temper. River gently set his package on a nearby table but went to the study without hanging his coat or removing his shoes.

“Sit down. I’ve spent the afternoon cleaning up your mess.”

He took his time coming to sit in the chair across from the enormous desk while Crocodile smoked and collected his thoughts. They didn’t ever waste time, it wasn’t like them, and the silence made him itch.

“Your orders were to kill him—”

“—and I refused—”

“—I didn’t give you permission to speak!” The outburst quieted him though he refused to shrink back even as his stomach flipped.

“Every time you have refused an order and come back to this house was because I allowed it. Your position within this organization is conditional upon your performance, the terms of our agreement are conditional upon your employment, Mr. i—”

“—Don’t call me that. I am—”

“—you are still a part of Baroque Works whether you want to leave your naive little head in the sand or not. The spirited way you have conducted yourself up until now ran its course the moment you jeopardized—” He stopped before he could say too much, breathing through his nose before beginning again, slower. “You have your orders and if you cannot follow them, you will return to Oasis. Is that understood?”

“And you’ll remove the protection from my island?”

“Choose your next words. Very. Carefully.”

“I don’t think you will.”

Crocodile’s chair scraped across the floor and River shot up to flee but was snagged, the grip on his arm keeping him in place.

“How’s that?”

“Because if you were going to kill me, you would have done it already—” The gleam of Crocodile’s golden hook shone in his eyes but he didn’t move. Neither of them moved. He stared passed the weapon, up to his face.

“You know I won’t harm you, Crocodile. I love—I love…” He swallowed as the warlord watched his face.

”...how we talk for hours, the way you look at me, how you touch me. I’d die for you, I would kill for you. But I won’t kill just because you ordered it.”

Crocodile released him and they remained scant steps apart. “You don’t know the extent of our circumstances, River, and you can’t. Everything we do has a purpose.”

He didn’t ask if he trusted him, he knew too well that the two of them were more intertwined than was ever part of the plan. Maybe if either of them had ever been well-adjusted young men, they could have predicted that sharing food, poetry, and secrets would turn into love. If the past year in Alabasta wasn’t River’s first time off the island, he might have resisted the fall. And if Crocodile had ever seen someone look at him with the type of affection that required no kind of exchange, he would have shown more self restraint. His tongue refused to form the words but he needed River to know he’s never felt warmed by only a voice, never felt cold from anyone’s absence. That he never had a taste for wine before he tasted it from his lips.

Maybe if either of them had ever been in love before they might have been better at it.

“Do you want me? Even still?” River said quietly, not letting him look away.

“You caused me a lot of trouble today.” He tried to scold him even as he held the smaller jaw and pressed them together for short kisses.

“I won’t apologize.” River felt a nip to his ear.

“Never apologize for your principles. You’re beautiful when you’re fired up.”

“Would you like to join me in the bath?”

“I have different plans for you. I’ll give you 10 minutes.” River shivered when the promise spoken against his neck was followed by a shadow of teeth.

On time to the second by the watch in his pocket, Crocodile entered the bedroom, finding a seat across from the edge of his bed. His dutiful lover was already waiting, the ends of his hair damp and sticking to his skin where his pulse was thumping. He watched him with silence save for the strike of a match and deep, even breaths. River squirmed, the impatient one, having been instructed to wear only his lover’s shirt and lay on the bed. He had a suspicion of what Crocodile wanted, but even if he submitted he would make the warlord work for his pleasure.

“Let’s begin.” Crocodile breathed smoke from his mouth, making no move to rise from his seat or remove his clothes. He would let his rebellious lover squirm and beg with no answer, a punishment that would soothe his wounded ego and please just as sweetly.

“Touch yourself,” He said and River’s hand went for his half-hard cock—

“—not there.” Crocodile exhaled, watching his hand skirt slowly back up his torso, uncoordinated and indecisive.

“Why are you acting shy? Take your pleasure. We both know you want the attention. Do not lie to me, beautiful, even with your body.”

“Tch. And I thought you appreciated my coquettish act.” He scoffed, pointedly ripping his borrowed shirt open and brushing away the fallen buttons.

“Point: Act.” He ashed his cigar as River laved his tongue over his own fingers, bringing them down to twist and pull his favorite nipple. His other hand reached back to the pillows to find a hidden bottle of lubricant.

“Sneaky. How long has that been there?”

River deliberately ignored his question to fumble with getting the bottle open. One hand continued to abuse his own nipples while the other circled his hole. He moaned, almost forgetting he was supposed to be performing while he slipped a finger inside himself, content to massage his walls and make indulgent circles and pinches to his rapidly reddening nipples.

“Don’t forget your primary task.” The gravel of Crocodile’s voice made him shiver, hurrying to press a second finger inside. He spread himself thoroughly to hungry eyes but the angle made it too difficult to graze his prostate in any meaningful way. Every tug to his rim made his cock ache, his stomach doing flips when he met the golden gaze that seemed to reach out and play with his body even without hands. The flush of being watched was hot on his face and neck, down to his dark nipples, shiny and forgotten when he got up on his knees to better angle his hand.

“Do not—”

“—Crocodile, please!” He gasped out, exposing himself completely when he arched hard, knees wide like arrows to where he was fucking himself hard on three fingers but couldn’t quite get there. Lube squelched loud in the too-hot room, bubbling around where he was most open and flushed, dick hanging beneath him and leaking a tiny puddle onto the sheets. His moans devolved into frustrated whimpers that had Crocodile reaching down to adjust the erection that tented the front of his slacks.

“Hush, pet. Get a hold of yourself.” He tried to appear disinterested as he ashed his cigar but the breath he took still stalled.

River’s frustrated cry made his dick throb and he played with a stitch on the armchair to prevent opening his zipper. He almost relented, reaching down to squeeze the base of his erection and blowing smoke from his nostrils. It was different with a familiar lover. The tension was sweeter to be caressed by the memory of the man he knew so well and yet have to keep his distance. If he focused he could scent him even over the cigar, or recall the give of pectorals under his teeth, the feeling of his slick skin under his palm as the other man bounced himself stupid on his cock.

That’s an idea. He thought.

“Stop. If you can’t please yourself, how can you expect to please me?”

He watched him roll onto his back, making sure his voyeur could see the way his hair draped over the foot of the bed, heated gaze staring at him from under wet eyelashes. “I don’t want to cum without you inside me. Please, Crocodile.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” He lied.

“I only need it to take me across this room.” The earnestness in his eyes, unable to deny how much he wanted, had Crocodile standing up so quickly he spilled the ashtray on the floor. Unprepared to be grabbed, River flailed with little grace and was deposited on the desk. The change of scenery was enough to break the spell, removing the coquettish veil he used to cause a reaction.

“Huh? Oh, this is fine. I thought you were dragging this out—ah!” He gasped, suddenly breached by two thick fingers that deliberately skirted his prostate.

“Get on with it, Crocodile, I’m already prepped.” He squeezed, trying to trap the hand inside him. “You were watching, I thought, or did you get hard from a daydream? Was it about me?”

Crocodile stood up straight suddenly, letting his full height loom over him and speak the disparity of their bodies. His eyes hyper-fixated on the bob of River’s swallow, predatory gaze finding a sweat drop trying to flee. He captured it with a swipe of his wide tongue, pleased at the whimper that vibrated against his lips.

“Have it your way, beauty. If you think that’s what you want.”

He was on him instantly, long legs pushed open almost too wide to accommodate the warlord’s wide torso, breath hitching when a jeweled hand gripped his collar and pressed him flat to the desk.

“Crocodile—“

“Quiet.” He bullied further into his space and at this distance he could see the way his pupils were blown out, lips barely parted in anticipation of his wrath. They remained unwavering, never flinching, even when Crocodile rubbed his thumb over the thin flesh covering his pulse point, feeling it flutter and twitch in a frantic arousal that vaguely mimicked fear.

“Do you ever listen to what you say or do you just like the sound of your own voice?” His words were punctuated by the grind of his cock against River’s open hole, a threat answered by a whine when he felt it catch. Crocodile’s big hand clamped around his jaw, forcing their eyes to meet.

“Put this smart mouth to good use and make that sound again. Scream for me.”

River howled as he was entered finally, head thrown back against the desk, feeling their hips pressed flush only for a moment before Crocodile set a hard rhythm. He gripped his thigh, hook keeping him spread wide, each pitch aimed expertly at his prostate. River moaned until he ran out of air and could only hiccup, murmuring incoherently among the sound of Crocodile’s golden belt buckle clinking against his thigh. A particularly hard thrust had him almost tumbling off the counter, the break in their rhythm letting him fill his lungs and wail as he was yanked back on to the cock that bullied his insides. He had no leverage on his back, nothing to do except moan, pinned helpless and feeling his orgasm come up on him too fast.

“I’m, uh, muh, Croc, p-please. I’m gonna—ah!” Crocodile brought his hand down on his flank with a crack, a reminder that he wasn’t allowed to make any more demands.

He tries to hold on, frantically sucking in air and stuttering out fragments of words, but his orgasm demands he clamp down on Crocodile’s cock, painting his chest in streaks as his voice breaks. Crocodile fucks him through it without breaking their rhythm, and he feels his dick give a valiant twitch at the image of his larger lover panting above him, strong white teeth bared as he wrecks him.

“Color.” He rumbles and River feels the air burn as he sucks it into his tired lungs.

“Green—oh!” Crocodile’s cock leaves him without warning, his insides throbbing with the memory of their coupling. The world tilts as he’s flipped, now bent over the desk. He manages to plant his feet and look down, seeing his own cock hang soft beneath him. It drags dribbles of cum on the dick seeking entrance, and he feels Crocodile mumble an apology as they slip together again. A leather shoe bumps River’s bare foot to have him spread his legs more, and he wonders in the fog when he lost his house shoes.

Behind him, Crocodile drives forward like he never left. Drops of sweat run off his nose and chase the dimples on his lover’s back. He thinks to check if River has regained his erection, but the way he moans, hips bucking back against him is his answer. Instead, he grabs around his neck so they’re pressed back to chest, thrusts slowing to grind deep and savor how every hit makes him ripple on his cock. He presses kisses to his ear, surrounded by his smell as River reaches back to keep their faces close and breath each other’s air.

“You don’t mean to upset me, do you—”

“—no no no, Crocodile—”

“—no, you don’t. Because you want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“I want to be good for you,” River moans, and he feels the gasp in his ear when he clenches down particularly tight.

“You are good for me, feel so good. One more time. Come on.”

Oh. Crocodile feels him clamp down, and the pulsing of River’s hole tells him he’s coming on the desk below them. He moans into the smaller man’s shoulder, feeling his hands shake as he comes inside him enough to overflow and leak from his swollen rim. Crocodile’s grip doesn’t relent until he’s spent every drop, depositing a kiss on his cheek before he peels them apart. The squelch of their separation and their panting almost feels louder than the sex in the suddenly quiet, humid room.

“If I was anyone else I’d definitely be pregnant,” River said, laughing breathless when Crocodile pinches his leg. He looks back to see the warlord has sat himself in his desk chair, pants still open and attempting to look not so out of breath.

“… Maybe it’s because I’m laying on it—” River said as he uses the furniture to keep from slipping to the floor. “—but I think you scratched the desk.”

Crocodile waves him off as he lights a new cigar. “Not important.”

He puffs slow circles to the ceiling as his eyes slip closed. The sudden sound of running water brings him back and he sees a naked River bundling his hair to the top of his head. Curse him for slipping away so silently, it made Crocodile nervous.

“Come on. I need another bath.” ____ ___ __ _

Recently, he’s let the Oasin stay more often than not in his bed, especially after taking their pleasure. On nights like these, a clear sky and moonlight illuminating his skin, the difference in their bodies is never more apparent. Crocodile runs his hand up the knobs of his vertebrae, admiring the curves of his shoulders that were meant for dance, not violence. A year ago, he worried about the harvest, the schedule of the tides, was the wash still on the line when it looked like rain. Tonight he was beneath him, taking his pleasure, and damp from a bath that washed him of a stranger’s blood. Both were at his own behest, and Crocodile felt his stomach swim with a familiar nausea. He’s taken this too far. River loved a version of him he was allowed to see. He knew his past and shared his books but was barred from the secrets right below his nose, behind the veil of Baroque Works. The coup was coming, and Crocodile had 28 days left to hold onto this warmth.

When he replaced his missing hand with a weapon he wondered if it would curse his touch to forever cause pain. And until now that was never a problem. But he was too close to the end, to his goal to change for one man.

You are an indulgence, River. Brought to Rainbase by extortion and forced into my employment to keep wildcards off the board. When all hands have been shown, you will return to your little island and realize that you hate me. Oasis will be sparred, as per our agreement. And we will become a memory you prefer to forget.

That is how it must be.

#one piece #sir crocodile #sir crocodile one piece #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x oc #sir crocodile smut #male reader #oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #ao3 fanfic #silkendandelion #mirage in the desert #x reader #x oc

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ejaydoeshisbest · 6 months ago

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It’s up to you to save yourself. No one will do it for you.

So, Ejay. Year-end reflections time. Part 1. Basically, these past two years were when you have learned and felt the weight of some cliché and common life advice. It’s up to you to save yourself. No one will do it for you. That is the first and most important lesson you’ve learned and will bring with you for the rest of your life. Other people may help you, but at the end of the day, it is up to you to dust yourself off and pick yourself up from the ground. You are responsible for yourself. Never ever completely rely on others. Remember the strength and stubborn independence of your youth. People have their own shit to deal with, their own crosses to bear. Do not add to their burden. If others offer you a helping hand, take it, but do not drag them down into your sorrows. If they insist on walking beside you on your most difficult times, have the decency to not abuse their strength and kindness. Take no more than what is offered. Do not be a leech. Side note: kung kinumusta ka ng tao na hindi mo naman ganon ka-close, say a simple “okay lang”. Because most of them don’t really care. Or they want some drama to break the monotonous boredom in their lives. Or they feel better to see you miserable. Second. Unresolved trauma and burnout tarnish your past and ruin your future. They will take from you the good days ahead. They corrupt your body from the inside out. Some of the sinister ones are silent. I imagine them as snakes—these silent traumas about to happen—sneaking into your system behind words of resilience and confidence; words like “kaya ko pa iyan, sige lang” and “wala ito, basic lang ito”. Words to justify abuse. Words that mask the pain. Words to fool yourself that everything is fine. Before you realize you need to stop for a second and breathe, you feel unnaturally exhausted. The snake’s venom had polluted you slowly without you noticing. Push through some pain, Ejay. Endure. Resilience builds character. But learn when to push your limits and when to rest. Try to pick your battles. I’m glad that you know when to say no to things. Keep doing that. Peace over novelty. Serenity and contentment over achievements. Third. I wish you used social media as a journal / photo dump long ago. Does wonders to quiet the mind and stop your insecurities from triggering. Post, then immediately log out without interacting with anyone and scrolling down. Maybe have a random day in a week for a quick peek at your friends’ current post. Doing this frees your phone gallery. Saves some actual journal pages, too. Use it the way it was first intended: as a free way to contact anyone you miss, not to seek updates from people you aren’t interested in. Or, frankly do not give a fuck about. Plus, it gives this bright burst of joy when you spontaneously reunite with an old friend or schoolmate in a public setting. I kind of like the feeling of reuniting with someone I lost touch with years ago. I want them to be a mystery to me. Also, good job in reudicng your Facebook friends from 1,100 to almost 500. Fourth. TRY to be kind in a cruel world. If not that, know when to bear your fangs. I know it’s hard, especially when you aren’t kind to yourself. You have to try, still. Be kind, but be smart abut it, too. Do not be a doormat for people to walk all over on. Be kind, but don’t be a self-sacrificing martyr. Do not be a fool. Words: Ejay Diwas

#mental health #journal #prose #adulting #mentalhealth #childhood #newyear2025 #reflection #life

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dragonsfell · 1 year ago

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[ INBOX / accepting ] ⸻ @mccnrxse sent in ⸻ “ I am the problem here and I am fully aware, but I made the decision to inflict me on everyone else. ” [ to - up to you; from - Gale ]

Their gaze shifts from the gathering folk around the campfire, back toward the wizard and regards him for a moment. Green and purples eyes looking on, taking in the way his shoulders holds a weight that seemed unbearable; but they, like everyone over by the fire, knew where the weight was truly coming from.

Cora'kesh couldn't imagine that of a goddess with a face and form; the Nine and Six and One were in everything, but there were no avatars or chosen, no material forms. The Gods never spoke, but existed in everything but to hold on higher than an other. Aureon may be with every magewright when he or she opens a book, but that was equally as much as Onatar was in every clink of an artificer's hammer. One may be louder to you than another, but if you prayed, you prayed to all of them but you bore no punishment if you didn't believe. The Gods would not scorn you for turning away. To give a god a face, for goddesses to have faces that seemed almost wrong; but Cora'kesh wouldn't say.

They'd hold back their own judgements, for Khorvaire did not understand the Path of Light for which they walked as it was. Cora'kesh does not look on with pity, or tries not to and they remain silent a moment further. Mull over what Gale says, with the weight that he carries and new knowledge. Turns the words until they find ones that could be offered as insight. Enlightenment was a life long venture, even if they had been named as yannahilath among their community. Priest or lightspeaker among their community to offer guidance.

❝ I speak not for knowing the weight of destruction in my chest, but you are still living and breathing, are you not? ❞ It may be limited time, but they had a point here to be made. It's a very druidic approach, but druidism has been their first connection to all things. ❝ You own your condition, that is the first step; but you cannot be a creature of solitude, Gale, most aren't by birth. ❞ To say that he inflicts himself others is statement that comes with pain, of which they wouldn't probe to far into but both their soul and spirit were healers. Physical and spiritual.

❝ You are not an infliction upon the world, your punishment nestled in your chest may be, but we know this is what you carry, it is, of our own choosing, to remain and you can't take that from us; no one can carry our burdens of own making; I bear mine, you bear yours but that does not mean we need to make ourselves isolationists; you have those willing to walk with you. If one such would offer a hand ⸻ ❞ They hold out their hand toward Gale to make their point come across.

In all things, they hope to give Gale a moment of respite, to shed some light onto his shoulders. Different ways to think. It's not to cast judgement, or make small that he holds barely bound catastrophe, that was bad but ever a follower of the light; that didn't cast him out from compassion or redemption. ❝ You are not inflicting me for taking it. ❞

#hope it makes some sense. in my head it does.#hi. have this. i got very wordy.#gale receives this?#throws this vaguely act two #[ IC ] Cora'kesh #[ DUO ] cora'kesh / mccnrxse; gale #[ VERSE ] Baldur's Gate #[ VERSE ] Act Two

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thumperdaetime · 4 months ago

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[image description: 4 quadrants on a graph. the horizontal axis shows whether or not you should give up. and the vertical axis shows whether or not you can do it. in each quadrant is a short paragraph explaining how you should approach each situation. The top right quadrant is labeled "dont give up" and "you can do it". the text inside reads "you will prevail. you have all the necessary skills to pull it off." the top left quadrant is labeled "you can do it." and "give up" the text there reads. "you don't have anything to prove anyone. let yourself rest." the bottom left quadrant is labeled "give up" and "you can't do it" the text reads "know your limits. not everything is your burden to bear. walk out." the bottom right quadrant is labeled "you can't do it" and "don't give up" the text reads "the only way to learn is by falling. you will get the hang of it, but for now just push through.". end image description]

This post genuinely altered the trajectory of my life and how i make a lot of my decisions and i think about it so much

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jdgo51 · 2 years ago

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Who Jesus Is

Today's inspiration comes from:

Soul Fuel

by Bear Grylls

"'When I was growing up, Madonna once said, “Jesus Christ was like a movie star, my favorite idol of all.”1

Napoleon Bonaparte went further: “I know men, and I tell you Jesus Christ was not a man. Superficial minds see a resemblance between Christ and the founders of empires and the gods of other religions. That resemblance does not exist. There is between Christianity and other religions the distance of infinity.”²

And then there was novelist H. G. Wells: “I am an historian, I am not a believer. But, this penniless preacher from Galilee is irresistibly the centre of history.”³

There has never been a human quite like Jesus. He towers above us all in goodness and courage, in impact and influence. The greatest artists, leaders, and thinkers, all put together, are dwarfed by Him.

Yet Jesus did not come to impress us. He said He had come to save us, in total humility, as God come down among us. If He is who He says He is, and the Gospel is real, then this is very good news. He simply wants us to learn to reach out and trust Him to help and calm us, to forgive and restore us. If we are to live fully and empowered, then this has to be the first step.

So wherever you are with God — whether you are searching, are wanting more, or have turned your back and are walking away — this verse is truth:

The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost. — Luke 19:10

Jesus wants us to learn to reach out and trust Him to help and calm us, to forgive and restore us.

Who Was Jesus?

At some point in life, most people find themselves asking this simple question. We all have to make up our minds, just as people did back when He was walking on earth. For them — and us too — there seem to be only three credible, possible answers:

He is out of His mind. (Mark 3:21) He is possessed by Beelzebul! (Mark 3:22) [He is] the Son of God. (Mark 3:11)

In other words, He was either insane, evil, or God.

I used to think, Couldn’t He simply have been a good teacher and good guy? But then I looked at His life and words. Do good teachers repeatedly claim to be God? Do they claim to be one with the Father? Do they say they have come to die for all of mankind? Do they raise people from the dead and walk on water and calm storms? Those are strong claims and strong deeds.

S. Lewis reasoned that “a man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be [insane]… or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice… But, let us not come up with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. He did not intend to.”4

Who we decide Jesus is to us is a big question with big implications for our lives. But if we study the overwhelming and compelling evidence and then choose to believe that He is who He said He is—if we can take that leap of faith and ask, “Are You really there, and are You really good?”—it can be the start of an incredible journey and adventure. An adventure into life.

That’s why the offer He made two thousand years ago still stands for us today:

Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. — Matthew 11:28

Even today, for you and me, right now — that invitation has the power to change everything. If we let Him, He seeks us, saves us, strengthens us, supports us, and shows us how to live every day.

Scott Cohen, “Madonna: The 1985 ‘Like a Virgin’ Cover Story,” Spin, May 1985. Clayton Kraby, “Napoleon Bonaparte’s View of Jesus,” Reasonable Theology, https://reasonabletheology.org/napoleon-bonapartes-view-of-jesus/. Thomas A. Harris, I’m OK—You’re OK (New York: Quill, 2004). S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: HarperOne, 2001). Mere Christianity: copyright © C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. 1942, 1943, 1944, 1952. Extracts reprinted by permission.

Excerpted with permission from Soul Fuel by Bear Grylls, copyright BGV Global Limited.

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childofchrist1983 · 2 years ago

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Apple trees yield their fruits during the appropriate season; we too, yield fruits during passing seasons of life. Changing seasons bring both good and bad experiences. From those experiences, we learn to place our trust in the LORD Jesus Christ and our faith is strengthened beyond our expectations. Our minds have limited expectations about the true love of God. With God, all things are possible in any season. Thank God for His presence during each season of life. The fruits we bear are the product of His light and love that surpasses all our expectations. May He help us to be more sensitive to the teaching ministry of His Holy Word and Spirit, relying on Him and allowing Him to speak to us and guide us every step of our Christian journey.

God gave us the Holy Bible - His living and Holy Word - to let us know of Him and His abiding love and care as well as guide and prepare us for all our lives. May He help us encourage one another as we continue our walk with Him and our duty to Him daily. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for being present for all our new beginnings and all our lives. May He redirect any anxiety we feel as He provides countless opportunities for growth and change. May we humble ourselves before God always, asking Him to forgive our sins and make our hearts and lives anew through His Holy Word and Spirit. May He help us make Him and His Holy Word top priority, so we can grow spiritually and grow in our relationship with Him as we apply it to our daily lives. Thank God that we can focus on Him and everything about Him, for that is what keeps us sane and at peace. May our words and actions always be a reflection of Him and His Holy Word and Spirit and will.

Everyday, we must remember to thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for the grace that He poured out for us on the cross at Calvary. He has freed us from the burdens of sin and guilt. May He help us to always walk in His grace and Holy Spirit, not by our own measure. May He give us the humble humility to know that our freedom and eternal salvation is found only in Him, so that His grace may sustain us, and we may never lose sight of His love and light and mercy. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for calling us to Him and to serve Him. May He equip us to do all that He has called us to do so that as He works through us, He may use us to produce fruit, to reach others, and to encourage all brothers and sisters in Christ. May He work all of these things in us and through us for His Kingdom and His glory. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all His creation, for His miraculous ways and for everything He does and has done for us! Keep the faith and keep moving forward in your walk with Jesus! He loves us and He knows what is best for us. Seek, follow and trust in Him - Always!

Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Word and for sending His Holy Spirit so that we might have His grace, not only to awaken us and transform our hearts in our spiritual rebirth and guarantee our eternity with Him, but to also call upon Him whenever we are in need. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for all the reminders of His love and mercy and faithfulness within His Holy Word. He is bigger than any challenge or circumstance in our lives. Knowing this within our minds and our hearts, nothing can deter our faith in Him and His Truth. May we all accept Him and His eternal gift of salvation and ask that He would transform our hearts and lives according to His will and ways. Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His Holy Spirit who saves, seals and leads us. May we always thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He is our strength, and He alone is able to save us, forgive our sins and gift us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful LORD, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

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azurevi · 2 years ago

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how they lose you

characters: malleus, leona, ace

cw: major character death, wounds and blood (leona), brief mention of blood (ace)

note: not my best work but i just wanted some good ol’ angst 🤌

Malleus: inevitably

"You know this isn't right." Lilia said with a sternness that he so seldomly displayed, arms crossed and gaze piercing. "You've kept them for what, hundreds of years?"

Two hundred and thirty-two, to be exact. Malleus kept his silence.

"Look, this is your decision, not mine. But you can't cheat death forever. The longer you go on-"

"I get it, Lilia."

With a brief shake of his head, Lilia walked down the hallway and vanished into the shadows.

Malleus remained as still as a statue for another minute outside your room. It wasn't as if he wasn't aware that there was a limit to how much he could do to keep you alive, but what was he to do except to go on?

It seemed that time didn't give him the choice this time.

Mustering a gentle smile, he knocked on the door and entered. The sight of you lying on your bed made his heart squeeze. Your lunch remained untouched on the nightstand.

"Malleus," you raised your hand weakly, and he strode to capture it.

"Hey, my dearest. How are you feeling today?"

A forced chuckle came out of you. "Could always be better."

In the strained silence, he took a seat by your bed and clasped your hand, bringing it to his lips. You looked as young and endearing as the first time he'd met you, but the shine in your eyes, the one that would always brighten as you took him in, had long vanished. In its place was hollowness. A husk devoid of life.

Magic was not invincible. It could prolong your lifespan for longer than you could ever imagine, but it couldn't shield your soul from the passage of time. It could preserve and care for the flesh, but not the mind.

And here you were, jaded, waned.

"Lilia was just telling me," he started, though every word felt like the worst betrayal to himself. "He thinks we've gone too far."

"Have we?" There was a moment of hesitation in your eyes. "What do you think, Malleus?"

"I think you have spent far too long living for me, my love. I'd like to know how you really feel."

The silence was deafening as he waited for your answer. He understood that you loved him with all your heart, and he was no different, but somewhere in there, he'd known all along that you were only doing this for him and his happy ending. You couldn't bear to burden him forever with grief, so you proposed using magic, spells, potions, anything that could grant you more seconds.

It was great at first, but a long life was lonely. People came and went like wind, and no one ever stayed long enough. Malleus would know. Everytime he sat beside you as you mourned for another lost friend, he felt as though he'd been the one driving the blades into your heart, forcing you to shoulder the brutality of eternity with him.

At one point, life became wearisome. You could not escape the Sisyphean cycles of life, the constant loving and losing, the mountainous weight all these feelings and memories put on your mind. You were never meant to live this long and feel this much, but you kept going anyways, staying for one last hug, one last kiss, one last day where you could pretend everything was fine.

But it was not fine, and Malleus had hogged you from death long enough. The expiration date had long passed.

"You know I love you right?" Your voice pulled him back to reality. He nodded surely.

"And frankly, I would do anything just to be with you till the end of time, but the truth is," you flexed your fingers, wetness forming around your eyes. "I can't… I can't feel your touch anymore. I know that you're here with me, but I always feel so far away. It's like someone is beckoning me home, even though you're my home. I'm trying very hard to fight it, and I–"

He put his arms around you as your body shook from the tears overflowing from you. If it was decades ago, it would be enough to calm you down, but he couldn't pretend anymore. Time was banging on the door, demanding what belonged to it.

As powerful as Malleus was, there were still things he couldn't win against.

"I know we've spent a long time together, but it will never be enough. I will always have new things to tell you about, new places I want to go with you, new discoveries to marvel at together, but I'm at the end of my line. I can't go any further," you buried your face in his hair, taking in a shuddering breath. "Do you think we can try something else? Doctors, medicines,..."

Yes, there's always something else, Malleus wanted to say. Yet the moment he felt your tears scorching his skin, he knew that his love for you could never be blindsided by his selfishness. If it was something that made you happy, he would go to the end of the universe and back to get it.

And if you wanted to let go, even if it took everything in his soul to accept it, he would make sure to be there as you took your last breath.

"I don't think we will ever have enough time together, love," he fought against the louder voice in his head. "But the years we've spent together were nothing short of amazing, weren't they?"

You made a sound of agreement.

"I believe we have tried our best and loved each other to the fullest. That is enough for me."

"That is enough for me too." You chuckled wetly. "Do you think you could… ever find love again? For my sake?"

The thought of his hand in someone else's felt like someone had misplaced his limbs or cut off one of his nerves. It felt wrong.

"I don't think I can ever love anyone else as much as I love you."

"Alright," you drew his face up and met his lips with a note of apology, but within there were also longing, gratitude, hopes and wishes for a happier future. All the things you couldn't fit into words had been encompassed into this tender act, spilling into him, pushing the sorrow in his heart away.

Somewhere in the middle, he reckoned that this felt just like the first ever kiss you'd had together: tentative, gentle, scared to hurt, yet as magical as constellations colliding. You'd always had the ability to make him feel like the brightest star in the whole, wide sky.

With a few more farewells and arrangements later, he found himself seated on the balcony, overlooking all the sharp-edged pointy hills. The night sky was chasing the sun away, the last rays of light fighting through the cracks of mountains. You rested your head on his shoulder, fingers intertwined with his flawlessly.

"This is a bit scary," you confessed quietly.

"It's okay, I'm here." He squeezed your hand. "It's only you and me."

Once you'd given him your final nod, he wrapped his other hand atop of yours, and closed his eyes. All the magic that'd been fueling your body streamed out into his touch. Each memory, each laugh, each cry, each confession, each rejection, the whole of your life flowed under his touch. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever felt.

He knew he could still pause this, but he wouldn't. Even as tears streamed down his face, even as he had no idea what the years ahead would be like, he kept on drawing the spell out of you. Even as your hands turned calloused and wrinkled, even as your hair turned into the color of snow, with all the years catching up on you, he still insisted to grant you the peace that you deserved.

As the sun sank under the dark silhouettes, the air carried your voice to him one last time.

"It's only… you and me."

Leona : a hollow victory

The fight had ended. There were no more cries and shouts for blood, instead replaced by relieved sighs and triumphant cheers.

Leona’s heart was still drumming in his ears. Fatigue paralyzed his body. All around him were debris and a gooey dark ink, a byproduct of overblots. He reckoned that he was a skilled fighter, but this monster far stronger than everything he’d encountered before. Even with the concerted effort of what was basically the whole school, the lengthy and demanding battle still sapped all magic out of him.

He would probably need a whole week to recover, at the bare minimum. In fact, he could pass out on the ashy ground now, but there was something else on his mind.

He trudged past student after student, saw a few of them crowded together with tears of joy shimmering in their eyes. The longer he went searching, the more restless he felt. Possibilities flitted across his mind like a supercut of all his greatest fears: a body that wouldn’t answer, a wound that could not be salvaged, a pool of blood on the ground.

The thoughts were just about to drive him insane when he spotted you walking out of a thin cloud of smoke, where a wall seemed to have collapsed. There was a limp in your steps as you pulled your jacket closer around you, but you were okay. Thank the sevens, you were okay.

“Leona!” You noticed him a moment later, your mouth curling into a smile that trembled at the corners. He was too relieved to notice that, as well as the thick scent of blood that clung to you. It was probably someone else’s.

The distance between you shortened quickly thanks to his large strides, and you gripped onto his arms immediately, checking him for any injuries. It was ridiculous that you would even think that he would be wounded, but he let you look, bathing in the knowledge that you were both still here.

“How do you feel?”

“Tired as hell. I need a nap right this instant.” He said.

“Of course you do,” you cupped his face with your shaky hand, an intimacy that he usually preferred to be exclusively private, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was just both of you and a war that was finally over.

Leona hadn’t realized how on edge he had been before this confirmation. His blood was still pumping with adrenaline, the fear that something else was coming looming over his head.

“You’re smearing ink on my face,” your touch left a sticky wetness, and he scrunched his face up. “Come on, let’s go find others.”

“Yea,” you followed him by your interlocked hands. “Okay. We’re going to find others and get a nice rest. Then we’re gonna… we’re gonna…”

You couldn’t make more than five steps. First Leona felt your hand on his bicep and heard you weakly asking him to slow down, then the slip of your hand, the slump of your body.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He questioned, cradling you tightly. There were spikes in his throat as he pushed the words out.

“Nothing,” you tried to mask the shake in your voice with a chuckle, but it only came out as a pathetic wheeze. “I'm… sorry. I just had to see you again.”

As you grabbed at his hand again, the jacket fell away. Blood rushed away from his head as he took in the large, red gash on your abdomen, tainting the air with the thick smell of iron.

Frantic eyes shot up to the hesitant bystanders before he barked out, “Call for help! Now!”

“Hey, calm down,” you tugged at his hand feebly.

“I should’ve never let you out of my sight. Screw those friends of yours,” he gritted his teeth, holding onto you for dear life. “You’re alright. You’re alright, just hang on-”

“Leona, breathe,”

He didn’t realize how hysterical he sounded until he stopped, breaths hitching as he tried to clear his head, but his mind split into thousands of voices, all demanding him to do something about your life passing in his arms, pulse by pulse.

“How do you expect me to stay calm in this situation?” He hissed.

“Mm. I suppose you’re right,” you laughed dryly. “But I need you to listen to me first, alright?"

After mustering enough energy, you continued, "Promise me you'll be fine. Promise me that you will-"

"Sevens, no. Don't you dare pull this shit on me."

"Leona, you and I both know I can't make it."

Of course he knew– there was no way this amount of blood loss was normal, and he could feel how your body weighed heavily in his arms with nary a strength left in it. But you were the one thing he couldn't bear losing. He would rather admit defeat in the battle than lose you.

Before he knew it, there were hot tears running down his face. He wanted to scream at the world at its unfairness, at its cruelty, at its sheer audacity at snatching what he cherished the most away once again, but not even he was clever enough to have predicted death.

"Just promise me you'll be fine, please? I don't think I can go seeing you like this."

It would be a lie, you and he both knew that. He would never get used to your absence, not when you'd been the one who broke down all his high, prideful walls and saw him as who he truly was, not when you'd been the person who made him feel hope after all this time, not when he still had so much of his future planned out for the both of us.

Though he couldn't break your heart, could he? Especially not now.

"I promise." He bowed his head, touching your forehead with his. Even his tears were warmer than your skin. Your breaths slowly turned labored, each one fanning his cheek until there was nothing left.

"Hey," you sighed. "At least we won, right?"

His body shuddered when your hand finally slipped away. He pulled back and held your face between his hands, whispering your name in hope that you would wake up, if only just for a second. The only response was silence. It gnawed at his insides until there was nothing left but the cold wave of grief that seized him, scraping his throat as it came out in the form of a guttural cry.

The dust had settled, everyone celebrating their long-awaited victory. But Leona didn't feel like he'd won at all.

Ace : at the wrong time

Deuce had often berated Ace for the occasional harshness of his words, and rightfully so. He just never thought that they would bite back at him one day.

It was just an insignificant argument, one that took a turn for the worse only because neither of you were willing to back down. He’d offhandedly said something mean, and you hadn't taken well to it. A few clashes of wounding and stinging statements later, he had his back to you as you stormed out of his room.

He realized that evening that perhaps he’d made a mistake, that he couldn’t really sleep well without making up. There were times when he wondered whether there were venoms under his tongue that dipped everything coming out of his mouth in hate. But he supposed that it was just easier to be bitter than honest.

The sleepless night filled his guts with remorse. He was determined to make it up to you. It would be easy, he’d done it a few times before— a nice tart from the local bakery, optional flowers, and a sincere apology to revoke all the things he’d spat out, that would go something like, no, you’re not annoying, I just wanted to one-up you because I couldn’t admit that I’m at fault , or that line about how you weren’t worth my time? Sorry, I crossed a line there.

His sharp words ate away at him. Their weight only sank in after he’d blurted them out. The truth was, you meant to him a lot more than he was willing to admit. It’s just that he got clouded by his ego sometimes and forgot how you were basically the best thing that’d happened to him.

But that’s alright, he was going to make it up to you, and hopefully you would forgive him.

Perhaps the true mistake here was how he took everything for granted— your forgiveness, your love, the time that you had together. He never imagined that you would be taken away from him, not this soon, not this unexpectedly.

Yet the truth still stood as he held the phone to his ear, the few spoken words dancing in his head: night, attack, critical. He was going to tell Deuce to knock it out until he heard the choked sobs strangling his voice.

He was no stranger to danger. The two of you were always getting into all kinds of mortal perils, ranging from forgetting Crewel’s homework to being chased by the overblot form of his short-tempered dorm leader. But the difference was that he had always been there with you.

All of his facades, all his dumb hope that he was just dreaming vanished as soon as he saw you on the bed, so serene that he tried to wake you up with a ‘hey’. But you were not going to wake up, and your hands had long gone cold.

Crouching next to your body, e imagined you, alone in the dark, shouting for help. He imagined your life trickling out of you along with the blood. He imagined you thinking that he never loved you in your last seconds, even though he did, so much.

The pain came in spasms, shooting out of his heart and spreading to his limbs. His voice was laced with desperation as he clung to you, begs and bargains spilling out of him like a broken dam. He would give anything to turn back time, to take back all those things he’d said. It had never crossed his mind that he would have to change himself, but he would now. If only you would wake up, come back to him, he would try harder to be someone you deserved.

But there was no rewinding time, and nothing he said could ever bring you back. His love and apology hung in the air, and eventually returned to him as a knife lodged in his throat, a reminder that he hadn’t been there for you when it mattered most.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #ace trapolla x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus x reader #sie writes

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ventisehe · 4 years ago

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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.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #aether x reader #bennett x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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thelonecalzone · 2 years ago

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weird questions for writers: 3, 10, 17?

Hi, tysm for asking!

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

The process might not be cursed, but the space is SO cursed. That quote about the two wolves? That’s my home office. One side is very work-oriented and reserved for my day job: clean desk, desktop computer with only a few tabs open, minimal additional adornment, a single precious potted plant. The other side? A horrible, uneven surface made of warped spare lumber and various boxes that act as table legs. Laptop from the dawn of time with 3500 tabs open. Cork board. Second Cork board. White board. Skeins of red yarn. Thumbtacks, sticky notes, it’s a real murder-she-wrote. Every day I perch my coffee mug precariously on a stack of books covered in those sticky tabs that mark out all the quotes I want to burden other people with, and get to work. I cross bits off my printed outline as I go, throwing everything into a single Google Doc where I use highlighted paragraphs to mark out the beginning and end of each chapter I’m currently working on. Yellow for the start of the chapter, green for the end. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out how to create a linked index. (Experts, feel free to weigh in if you find this too disgusting to bear). The Cmnd+find function no longer works once I’ve reached a certain character limit, so I make sticky notes for myself (like a little Rennaisance-era scribe) of anything I want to call back to or bring up later in the story. Do I know that I can search straight in AO3 for terms/phrases/quotes? Yes. Do I do this? Of course not. I have one brain cell, and I use it to imagine gay things. This also means that I need absolute silence to write, not even a lo-fi study playlist in the background. I’m a cave-dwelling beasty and I require dim lighting, silence, and 3-5 cups of coffee to most deliciously enjoy my writing, which I spend around four hours a day doing, in hour-long chunks. I am a blight :)

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

Yes! I am constantly haunted by writing, and in particular the writing of Shirley Jackson, Denusha Laméris, and Mary Oliver, to name a few. It’s usually poetry that sticks in my brain and follows me around, rather than bits from novels (though this has exceptions). Philip’s Birthday by Mary Oliver is one that I’ve currently been microwaving in my brain, and a poem by Kait Rokowski, (which I’m not sure has a name, so I’ll type it out below, it's short)—

I do not keep meat in my home

Because cooking soft flesh feels like

I am betraying my girlhood

I do not want to watch something so pink

Become appetizing

-Kait Rokowski

I think of haunting like “being followed”, or reminded of something at inappropriate times (while in a meeting, during a conversation about literally anything else, etc.), so writing that haunts me is often stuff that ends up walking around with me for years and years, even after I think I’ve forgotten about it. My own writing though? Nah, not really. I don’t think about my writing usually, unless I’m actively doing it, or trying to solve a problem in a story.

(Also, I’ve gotten another request for this answer, so I’ll save a few haunts for that reply too).

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Hi, I’m here with the spicy, spicy cuts of TBSCM :) I’ve already spilled so much tea in the comments of the fic re: the various lit inspirations, so instead I will leave you a chunk of writing that will never make it into the fic because it was cut for time. It was one of the little pseudo-dates that would have happened when Patty came to visit Allison in Gorham. To set the stage: Allison convinces Patty that it's a good idea to go fishing at dusk in Moose Brook Park (with some equipment she’s borrowed from Irene’s late husband’s collection)—

Flickering blips of yellow light glint off the calm surface of the water as fireflies wander lazily over the lake. Allison sits next to Patty on the bank, growing more and more dismayed as she flips through the pages of The Complete Book of Fishing Knots, Leaders, and Lines by Lindsey Philpott. She’s searching for something that will hold a worm in place without her having to press the hook through its soft, red flesh. She looks down at the unhelpful index and sighs.

“What’s wrong?” Patty asks, taking a sip of wine from the flask Allison had stuffed into her purse before they left the apartment on this ridiculous fool's errand.

“I don’t…” She doesn’t have to finish the sentence for Patty to know what the problem is.

Patty dead-eyes her, groaning. “Seriously?”

“What!”

“This is so stupid,” Patty says, snatching the worm from her and stabbing the sharp end of the hook into it. The outer layer of skin breaks the way a grapeskin might—popping, oozing with its guts, a red smear dripping down Patty’s thumb as she rolls the worm up the shank as easily as she might do with a lifeless macaroni noodle.

Allison grimaces… but she doesn’t look away. Something about watching Patty’s fingers deftly thread the worm’s body along the glinting metal transfixes her.

Patty catches her watching, and she isn’t sure why it makes her own face burn with embarrassment.

“Why do you know how to do that?” Allison asks, her eyes still glued to the wriggling worm, its blood oozing out onto Patty’s fingers.

Patty just shrugs, letting go of the hook abruptly so that it dangles there on the line between them, the worm wriggling helplessly, struggling. Patty wipes her fingers on the grass, then on her pants, gesturing for Allison to cast the line into the water.

Allison looks away, but does as she’s told.

“What are you gonna do when there’s a fish on there?” Patty asks her.

Allison swallows hard. “I’m…”

Patty isn’t sure if it happens on purpose, but she feels the gentle pressure of Allison’s shoulder leaning against hers as they listen to the distant croak of the summer frogs bellyaching for each other in the weeds. Without another word, Allison reels in the line. She pries the worm from the end of the hook and lets Patty toss it away into the grass. She doesn't know what she would do if she actually caught something... but she's afraid she might discover that some twisted, buried part of her likes it too much. Better not to know, Allison thinks to herself. Better not to find out.

#asks and replies #tbscm #pattison

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melohax · 4 years ago

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I’ve seen some people who finished Omori talking about how they don’t understand the game’s plot, what happens in the good ending or why the protagonist even decided to change his ways. So then, here’s my thoughts on Omori’s story.

Warning: SPOILERS AHOY. Only read this if you’ve already finished the game and seen the good or true ending. Or if you don’t plan on playing the game at all but still want to know the whole story.

I’ve seen some people around the internet talk about how Sunny’s character isn’t clear to them or how they feel Sunny doesn’t deserve a good ending. Here’s some thoughts I have on why I think Sunny’s growth was well depicted.

There’s two main routes you can go through in the game: the “Reality” route and the “Hikikomori” route.

In the “Hikikomori” route, Sunny stays in Headspace forever and we get to learn many additional details about him. Sunny’s parents are implied to have known what Sunny did to Mari all along. It’s also implied that Sunny’s mother covered the whole thing up and chose to present it as a suicide as well cus, in her own words, she can’t bear the thought of losing both of her kids.

Sunny’s mother insinuates her son isn’t a “good boy” even though she begs him to be good but she still sees him as her little boy (as seen by the overly-sweet and positive messages she leaves around the house and her voice mails) and needs him alive so she can survive her own grief. Sunny’s father is shown cutting down the hanging tree and telling Sunny he isn’t his son, presumably disowning Sunny. The father keeps being absent forever afterwards.

Fast forward to the present and the “Reality” route, Sunny’s moving in 3 days. He knows his time is up in the real world and the biggest catalyst for his personal growth is that he’s finally seeing his old friends in the REAL world after 4 years of only seeing their loving, idealized child version in dreams. For the first time, he gets to witness the collateral consequences of what he did to Mari in his now teenaged friends: Aubrey spirals into delinquency after feeling like she was thrown aside by everyone she loved. Hero is guilt ridden, can’t even go near Mari’s grave and gives up on his dreams of being a chef. Kel wants to make things better but feels powerless, useless and like a screwup. Basil lives in a miserable state of almost constant fear and psychosis.

Sunny finally gets to see the huge toll his lie took on his friends’ entire lives as they keep blaming themselves for not knowing about Mari’s supposed suicidal ideations. He’s finally forced to face reality and he still tries to hide in dreamworld but he can’t. The inhabitants of Headspace are all people or fictional characters he knows or likes in real life (that he changed in his dreams, like how Kim’s brother is a sweet gentle giant and Sweetheart looks just like the candy shop owner at the supermarket) and their quests end up leading him to events where he’s reminded over and over again his dreams will end soon (the end of the underwater highway, the tree near the whale, the shadows of Mari and Basil) and that he needs to delve into Blackspace.

This shows how his own subconscious mind knows well what needs to be done; he’s putting the mental and emotional effort of making himself face what he’s done, shown through the contrast between the whimsical nature of Headspace and the dark surrealism of Blackspace.

As this happens in Sunny’s psyche, in the real world he can try to “atone” a bit by doing good things for his little community like completing requests people around him have. He still has a lot of trouble being near Basil in the real world but considering his entire subconscious mainly revolves around finding and rescuing Basil, he wants and needs to face Basil sincerely before he runs out of time.

We’re shown through memories that Sunny’s personality was always quiet, wary, a bit distant and very bad at dealing with pressure. Some people even describe him as cowardly or mediocre but he was just a small kid who’s entire world ended when he was 12. Since then, he never left his house, spending most of his days asleep rather than awake. It’s no wonder his personality isn’t as developed as his friends. His friends, although they were also in immense pain, at least still continued to live beyond Mari’s death. Sunny didn’t. He only lived through sleep.

Subconsciously, it’s shown Sunny both loves and hates Basil. This is seen in Blackspace with the dialogue he has with the “strangers” walking in the void. They talk about how Sunny (as Omori) does horrible things to Basil in the darkness of Blackspace because he struggles with facing the truth of his own actions. It’s also revealed through datamine of Blackspace’s metaphorical photo album that Basil, in his attempts to save Sunny from the judgement of others and to get him to come out of catatonia, was the one who come up with the plan to hang Mari.

Sunny describes Mari as looking as if calmly asleep when he drags her up the stairs. Her eyes remained peacefully closed until Sunny and Basil hung her. Then, Sunny turned back to look at Mari’s corpse, her previously closed eyes were wide open. She might have even been still alive, might have opened her eyes during or after the noose was tied to her neck. Or the belief he saw her eyes open could have been a manifestation of Sunny’s guilt, instead.

Either way, the horrifying possibilities surrounding Mari’s death lead to Sunny handling his emotional pain by subconsciously taking it out on Basil. It’s why Basil in Blackspace is shown constantly suffering and dying in many different ways. It’s the only way Sunny has been able to deal with himself; by forcing Basil into the darkest corners of his mind, his perfect colorful dreamworld can’t be ruined by the ugly reality Basil’s mere presence represents. It’s less painful to try to forget Basil and to forever blame him for both of their sins.

Still, even with all these conflicted feelings, Sunny’s tried to come to terms with love he still feels for Basil many times before. The shadows point out how this isn’t the first time he’s tried to save the Flower Boy; how all the previous times before ended in Sunny failing to find redemption and so his mind turns back to torturing the Basil of his dreams instead.

However, one of the Blackspace shadows also mentions a very important detail that changes almost everything this time around: his time is almost up in the real world. Whether this means he’ll commit suicide or move away, it’s almost time for him to leave the friends he’s always loved so much behind.

Sunny is forced to do a lot of internal work and self-reflection in what little time he has left. It’s shown through his dream actions, the surreal imagery surrounding him and the characters with all the sub plots his subconscious makes up.

In the route to the good ending, he traverses Blackspace and manages to listen to every harsh truth Basil’s shadow has to tell him. His attempts to save Basil mean he’s fighting his own mind, forcing himself to accept the truth.

To achieve redemption for his greatest mistake, Sunny needs to start with accepting Basil entirely; he has to stop making Basil take the brunt of their combined regrets. It means being willing to finally face the REAL Basil instead of permanently burying him in the most painful place within Sunny’s mind.

So basically, it’s obvious to me that Sunny is forced out of his “comfortable” hikikomori misery the moment he opens the door to meet the REAL Kel.

Sunny and Basil have a confrontation in the real world. When Sunny entera Basil’s room, we see poor Basil suicidal and at his limit. He’s clearly in the throes of a psychotic episode and at the mercy of hallucinations and delusions he can’t escape from (“There’s no way out of this is there, Sunny?”). Basil attacks you in an attempt to save you by killing the “thing behind you” but as we know, there isn’t actually something behind you.

There was never any monster to take the blame for Basil’s regrets, nor yours. It’s always been just you.

Meanwhile, Sunny is trying his best not to completely lose his shit so he can save Basil and stop him from potentially killing the both of them. Sunny likely loses an eye in the fight, shown by the blood coming from your socket and the bandage over it in the hospital.

Incidentally, the eye you lose is on the same side as the eye that can be seen peeking through the hair of Mari’s face as she’s hanging from the tree.

In the good ending, the song at the end talks about how even after confessing the truth, Sunny is alone once again, so it’s not actually clear if Aubrey, Kel and Hero actually forgave him. I feel like this is deliberately left up to interpretation by the writers. The lyrics then continue on to say Sunny still finds it hard to wake up, still finds himself plagued some days with lingering regret, but that he still tries to take it all one step at a time to carry on living.

With the song’s lyrics in mind, the end scene that shows Basil and Sunny smiling at each other while Mari’s shadow leaves them doesn’t mean they’re completely fine all of a sudden. Whether their friends forgave them or not, they at least finally have the relief of honesty. The burden of their unbearable shared secret is now off their shoulders. It’s finally out in the open, which means they both can now start healing and working to find the redemption Sunny was looking for in Blackspace. It also means they can go back to loving each other again without the crushing pain they both felt in each other’s presence.

I agree that Aubrey and the gang get pretty left out in the good ending, though. I wish there was more of them and their reactions to the truth BUT I think it’s sadly a deliberate choice by the writers to leave their reaction up to the player’s interpretation. This can feel extremely unfulfilling to many people (me included, I hate when authors do that tbh) but also to many others that’s a good thing cus they get to apply their own personal meaning and feelings.

I personally feel like the friends forgiving Sunny and Basil right off the bat would be incredibly unrealistic. I think they would need a lot of time (especially Aubrey) for them to forgive the lie that wrecked their lives for years. Forgiveness isn’t impossible but it would probably come in the form of a slow, difficult, heartbreaking process. Bittersweet.

Redemption isn’t just about forgiveness, anyway.

Even if a person is never forgiven by the people they’ve hurt, they can still find redemption for their actions through doing good for the people around them and the world at large. An example of this is shown through what Sunny can do on his last days in his neighborhood. The gratitude and additional flowers he receives in the hospital from each person he’s helped are proof he can still do good for others even after something as horrible and unforgivable as accidental murder. In a way, it’s proof that his life is still worth living.

But ultimately that’s just my own interpretation of the ending and I understand other people would interpret it all differently. Some see forgiveness as a given in the story while there’s also others who think Sunny doesn’t deserve forgiveness or those who think Sunny is a sociopath/psychopath or that Basil is the true villain of the game. I think this is why the ending was left so open, to favor all the different interpretations people have of it.

ETA: Here’s a different take on Sunny’s parents. This post argues that, despite the initial implications, they actually didn’t know about the attempted coverup. It’s a really good writeup explaining the whys and hows and has me reconsidering that part of the story!

https://www.reddit.com/r/OMORI/comments/kr9nvx/major_spoilers_regarding_sunny_his_parents_and/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf

#omori #omori game #omori sunny #omori basil #omori spoilers #spoilers #i said id wait before doing a post like this lol #but here i am #omori meta

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