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cherryrainn · 10 months

Note

can you write angst with striker,

a songfic with "i bet on losing dogs" by mitski??

like do whatever you want with the fic, theyre a couple, not a couple. anything. thats all up to you!

I LOVE MITSKI AND I LOVE THIS SONG AND I LOVE STRIKER AND I LOVE ANGST AND I LOVE YOU

☽ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰

— i bet on losing dogs

striker x reader

song link; click here

the walls of your small apartment seemed to close in on you as you sat on the edge of the worn-out couch, staring at the silent phone in your hand. striker, the love of your life, had promised he would be home soon. but the hours turned into days, and the days into a week, with no sign of his return.

my baby, my baby

you held onto the hope that he was out there, fulfilling his dangerous duties, protecting you and the dark secrets you shared. each passing moment without him felt like an eternity, the weight of his absence suffocating your fragile heart.

you're my baby, say it to me

as the world outside grew dim and the shadows danced around you, tears welled up in your eyes. you remembered the tender moments, the stolen kisses, and the whispered promises of forever. striker had once vowed to protect you, to be your shelter in the storm of this chaotic world.

baby, my baby

but then, one evening, the sound of the front door creaking open filled the silence, causing your heart to skip a beat. striker stepped inside, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. his pale red skin seemed paler than usual, his yellow eyes weary and distant.

tell your baby that I'm your baby

you rushed towards him, hope flickering within your chest,

"striker, you're finally home!" you said, your voice filled with a mix of relief and apprehension. "i missed you so much."

striker glanced down at you briefly, his eyes betraying a hint of weariness. "yeah, been a long week," he muttered, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

but as you reached out for him, your touch was met with an unexpected chill. he sidestepped your embrace, his focus elsewhere. without a word, he trudged past you and made his way to the bedroom.

i bet on losing dogs

confusion and hurt swirled within you. the once vibrant love between you had faded into a shadow of its former self. striker's actions spoke louder than any words, leaving you feeling invisible and insignificant.

as the night wore on, your mind raced with thoughts of what could have caused this abrupt change. the love you had bet on, the losing dog you had wagered your heart on, was slipping away with each passing moment.

i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place

morning arrived, the sun's rays piercing through the curtains, but the warmth they brought couldn't reach the icy barrier that had formed between you and striker. you watched silently as he prepared himself for another day of his dangerous work.

by the ring

"i hope you have a good day, striker," you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness.

striker glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable. "yeah, thanks," he replied curtly before heading out the door.

"i love you... striker."

and just like that, he was gone again.

where i'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

the room once again felt heavy with anticipation as you anxiously awaited striker's return. your heart had become a barren wasteland, starved of the affection and connection you so desperately craved.

i'll be there on their side

and then, as the sun began its descent, the sound of keys jingling and the creaking of a door filled the silence. striker stepped inside, his silhouette framed by the golden hues of dusk. his hat was tilted low, casting a shadow over his eyes, but the familiar presence of a cowboy filled the air.

"you've been waiting for me, darlin'?" striker's voice held a rasp, like a lonesome guitar strumming a mournful tune.

i'm losing by their side

you nodded, unable to hide the mix of relief and apprehension in your eyes.

striker slowly removed his hat, revealing a tired but genuine smile. the light caught the golden tooth in his sharp-toothed mouth, accentuating the rugged charm that drew you to him in the first place.

"it's been too long since i've really been home," striker admitted, his voice filled with a touch of remorse. "i've missed you, y/n'."

the cowboy had returned, ready to sweep you off your feet once again.

will you let me, baby, lose

as the night unfolded, striker regaled you with tales of his adventures in the vast, untamed land of hell. his voice carried the essence of the open plains and the scent of gunpowder, painting vivid pictures of a world beyond your reach.

on losing dogs

with the night drawing to a close, striker pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and protective.

i know they're losing and i'll pay for my place

"i can't promise i'll be here forever, darlin'," striker confessed, his voice tinged with both regret and sincerity. "but tonight, i'll hold you tight and make you feel like the only one in this wild, wild world."

a wave of both joy and melancholy washed over you as his words sank in.

as morning broke, casting a golden glow upon the land, striker rose from the bed, his cowboy hat perched upon his head once again. he turned to face you, his gaze filled with a mix of determination and longing.

by the ring

"i've gotta go, y/n," striker murmured, his voice carrying the weight of an assassins duty. "but tonight, y/n, i want cha' to go to our favorite restaurant," he said, his voice low and earnest. "wait for me, and i promise i'll be there."

your heart fluttered at his words, a renewed sense of hope washing over you.

where i'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

"yeah, alright. i'll be there," you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and longing. "i'll wait for you, striker."

i wanna feel it

the night had arrived, filled with both anticipation and a glimmer of hope. you meticulously selected an outfit, something nice and sweet that would make striker's heart skip a beat. the words that had once echoed through your mind now took a backseat to the excitement of the evening.

i bet on losing dogs

you arrived at the restaurant, the familiar aroma of comfort and familiarity enveloping you. you took your seat, glancing at the empty chair across from you, waiting for striker to fulfill the promise he had made. minutes turned into hours, and the lyrics that had danced in your mind became a haunting echo, amplifying your heart's ache.

i always want you when i'm finally fine

you checked your phone, hoping for a message, a call, anything to reassure you that he was on his way. but there was only silence. the lyrics that had once been an anthem of love now became a somber melody, echoing through the empty spaces of the restaurant.

how you'd be over me looking in my eyes when i come

as the hours stretched on, your excitement turned to disappointment, and disappointment evolved into heartbreak. tears welled up in your eyes, a silent cascade of sorrow. you fought to keep your composure, to hide the pain that threatened to consume you. the words that had once sung of unrequited love now bore witness to your silent breakdown.

someone to watch me die

amidst the corner of the restaurant, you quietly wept, the tears falling like raindrops on the tablecloth. striker had failed to keep his promise, leaving you stranded in a sea of loneliness.

the night wore on, the restaurant slowly emptying, leaving you alone in a sea of empty chairs and untouched plates. the promise that had once painted a picture of hope now painted a stark reality, a reminder of the pain of betting on a losing dog.

someone to watch me die

and there you remained, seated in the empty restaurant, your heart aching with unfulfilled expectations.

time seemed to stand still as you held on to a sliver of hope, desperately clinging to the belief that striker would somehow find his way to you.

i bet on losing dogs.

but as the night wore on, the truth settled in like an unwelcome guest.

striker was not coming.

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lizcameron · 8 months

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Part of His World | Part Two

Pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n was just trying to get out of town, running from her family and her past. When her dirt bike breaks down in Kildare, JJ Maybank swoops in to help her. Forced to stick around for a while, Y/n begins to fall in love with JJ and his tight-knit family of outcasts. The longer she stays, the harder it becomes to leave OBX as she knows she must.

Word Count: 1707

Warning(s): slight angst

Entering the chateau to a crowd of friendly strangers who all jumped up to greet you and JJ upon your arrival had been almost overwhelming but somewhat warming.

JJ had vaguely introduced you as the door swung shut. “This is my new friend, Y/N. She’s just passing through town.”

John B. had given you a genuine smile and light side-hug. “Welcome to my humble abode. We’re just about to hit the water,” he’d said.

Sarah had pulled you into a long, tight embrace. “It’s so lovely to meet you. It’ll be nice to have another girl along for the day,” she squealed, a glint of something in her eye as she looked at JJ after releasing you.

Kiara was less friendly than the others. She waved two fingers at you from across the room with what looked like a forced smile. She looked just as wary as you felt.

Pope extended a hand toward you, which you gladly took, much preferring this formal greeting to those from the more tactilely-inclined. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Pope. Any friend of JJ’s is a friend of ours,” he offered.

Now you sat on the bow of the HMS Pogue as JJ and his friends all sipped beers. Sarah and Kie had their feet in the water, and John B. and Pope were casting fishing lines off the other side of the boat. JJ sat several feet away from you just enjoying the conversation. You had been listening to stories of their adventures, learning a bit more about each of them personally.

From what you gathered, they were all orphaned in some way or another. Pope, Kie, and Sarah had each had a falling out with their families and adopted this group as their only family. John B. was actually orphaned, and JJ had been abandoned by both parents, each in their own turn.

JJ had looked down at his hands sullenly after sharing that bit of his history since everyone else was practically offering their entire life story. You stared at his profile, your soul reaching out just barely to this boy who just might understand you if you could ever let anyone in. When JJ felt your stare he looked up, flashing you a smile, and you quickly turned away.

JJ seemed to be the type of person who made friends easily, and judging by the stories his friends had been relaying to you, he also loved unconditionally and protected fiercely. You almost remembered what that was like, but the last person you thought truly cared for you had walked out your front door eight months ago and hadn’t been heard from since.

A loud splash brought you back to the present. You looked over to see the last of the others jumping into the water. JJ removed his shirt before reaching a hand out to you.

“C’mon. It’s blazing out here. Let’s cool off,” he proposed. You couldn’t help but smile at the giggles and playful shouts coming from the water. You slipped off your shoes, took JJ’s hand, and followed him off the edge of the boat.

After swimming for a while and laying out on the boat to dry, the group returned to the dock to clean the fish the boys had caught and grill an early dinner. As soon as the Pogue had docked, everyone went their separate ways to fulfill their respective duties in preparing for dinner. You stayed behind with JJ as he ensured the boat was clean before he left it. The group of friends seemed to have a nice routine, as if they spent days all together like this all the time. You longed for that sense of belonging.

“Do all the others live here together?” you asked casually.

“Nah, just JB and Sarah. Pope and Kie are roommates at the only decent apartment complex on The Cut, and I live alone. The Chateau has just always been our gathering place,” JJ explained.

He gave you a hand up onto the dock and began loading your arms with gear before grabbing his own haul. “You got it?” he asked, and you nodded.

Just as he stacked the last tackle under your chin, you dropped a pole. As you reached to catch it with your foot so it wouldn’t fall into the water, you lost your footing on an uneven board. You fell backward into the water, all the gear you were carrying toppling over onto the dock and some in the water with you.

“Oh shit,” JJ exclaimed as he leapt into the water to help you chuck the floating items onto the dock two feet above your head. Once everything was retrieved, JJ swam to you.

“Y/N, are you okay?” JJ asked, a little panic in his voice.

You began to laugh, and JJ joined in with you. The two of you were unable to stop for a couple of minutes before the laughter subsided. When you were finally able to catch your breath, JJ reached out to you, fingering something in your hair.

“Here, you’ve got a weed in your hair,” he says, pulling it out. His fingers brush your cheek as he pulled away, and you gave a small gasp. Your eyes locked on his, and his gaze was an intense ocean blue, holding you captive for a moment. JJ’s hand reached back up to touch your cheek just as the trance was broken.

“You guys finished messin’ around? Grill is hot,” Kiara barked out before storming back up the dock.

After a very delicious dinner of grilled fish, corn, and potatoes, you followed Sarah inside to help with the dishes. You dried while she washed and told you where everything went. Halfway through the job and some small talk, Sarah decided to try to break through your mystery.

“So what’s your story, Y/N? JJ said you’re just passing through?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m headed for the mainland. JJ just happened to be driving by when my dirt bike broke down. He patched it up for me,” you explained.

She smirked, thinking of the chances JJ would happen upon a damsel on a dirt bike. “Oh, you’re just vacationing down here?”

“No, I’m from the OBX. There’s just nothing left for me here, and I’ve never left the island,” you trailed off.

Sarah gave a concerned look. “Where’s your family? Surely you’ll come back to visit them,” she presumed.

You shook your head, contemplating how much to share. After a moment of silence, you figured there was no point to your secrecy. You’d never see Sarah again, and it was nice to have someone to confide in for once.

“My mom died six years ago. My dad is,” you paused, trying to think of a mild way to put it. “Completely different, I guess. It was kind of my older brother and I against the world until he left almost a year ago. I can’t stay here taking care of that… drunken idiot anymore. I’m leaving for myself,” you spewed.

Sarah was quiet for a long minute. Your cheeks began to burn from your embarrassment. Nobody was interested in your sob story. You should have made up another lie.

“You know,” Sarah began, pulling you from your self-deprecating thoughts. “Your past is not unlike JJ’s. His family is complicated too; all of ours are. Maybe there’s a reason it was JJ who happened to find you,” she suggested.

You snickered, pretending to be oblivious to what she was insinuating. “Yeah, I’d probably still be tinkering with that bike or walking by now,” you uttered with an unconvincing laugh.

Just then, JJ appeared in the entrance of the kitchen. “Ya’ ready to head back, Y/N? Be dark soon,” he said, pointing a thumb behind him toward the door.

On the way back to JJ’s house, you slid some money into his cup holder since he insisted you didn’t need to pay him for his help.

“It took all of three minutes, and I already have the oil,” he’d said resolutely.

Now in the little shop behind his house, he topped off the oil in the crankcase of your dirt bike. He took a few steps toward you as he wiped his hands on a shop rag before setting it down on the workbench you were leaning on.

“Thanks for spending the day with us. It was nice to have someone new tag along,” JJ said, stalling for time, not wanting to be out of your company just yet.

You held up your hands in gratitude. “Thank you for everything - the bike, dinner, a great day. It felt so nice to be carefree for a while. Your friends are great,” you mused. “I really should be going, though. Can you point me in the direction of the ferry terminal? This detour has me a little turned around,” you admitted.

JJ glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sure but the last ferry left an hour ago. There’s not another one until 7 in the morning,” he said.

You closed your eyes and clenched your fist, whispering, “Fuck.”

Your mind raced a mile a minute. It’d be okay, right? You’d been gone all day. You were 50 miles away. There’s no way your dad would find you in the backwoods of Kildare. You could camp out and hop on the first ferry out of there.

JJ sensed your panic and placed a hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your despair. “Hey, relax. Why don’t you stay here tonight? You can thank me by having breakfast with me in the morning, then I’ll drop you off at the ferry as early as you want,” he offered.

You visibly relaxed as you looked into those ocean eyes. JJ was right. What was a few more hours? It was entirely possible that your dad didn’t care enough to look for you anyway.

“You’re sure I’m not imposing?” you ask cautiously.

JJ smirked. “I would not pass up a chance to have you in my bed,” he joked, laughing when your eyes went wide. “C’mon, I’ll take the floor,” he said as he pulled you along by the hand, electricity shooting up your arm at his touch.

@obaex @pankowperfection

#jj maybank #JJ maybank X reader #outer banks #jj obx #obx #jj outer banks #jj obx fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #lizcameron writes

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tessa-liam · 2 months

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Introducing: 'A Time for Us'

The Royal Romance, AU series

Liam Rys x F!OC Thalia Courtland, Olivia Nevrakis

Premise: King Liam, at the time of his coronation, was prepared to fulfill his duty by selecting his queen from the group of suitors.

In light of the 'love of his life', Thalia Courtland, being the target of a scandal; she was deemed ineligible for selection by the Royal council.

To buy time to find Tariq to clear her name, Liam made the decision to select his childhood friend, Olivia Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, as his 'temporary choice'.

However, during the year-long search tor Tariq, Liam, Thalia, and Olivia unwittingly formed a mutual bond, and a 'throuple' was established.

Smoke and Mirrors, 'The Black Ledger'

“You know, Olivia, I really respect your work as the head of the Royal guard. You have done a remarkable job at protecting the Royal family and the Crown since the arrest of the former head guard.”

Olivia was surprised by the compliment, never being one to seek or appreciate praise.

“Oh, well, thank you ... I appreciate your commendation.”

Amalas noted her solemn expression and wondered if her former lover was doing well personally.

“I think you should know ... I never stopped caring for you, Livvie. Despite what happened, you will always be special to me.”

“I understand. We were so much more than you let us be.” Olivia smiled sadly as she shifted her focus and watched Liam and Leo as they entered the study.

Turning the Page, 'A Step Back in Time'

"You have the power of position, make Madeleine feel it."

"Most importantly, you hold the King’s heart...show the world, show Cordonia, show Madeleine what that means...you will bring her to her knees." Olivia sneered.

"There she is...there is my little blossom!" Maxwell cried, running towards Riley and engulfing her in a bear hug.

"It's good to see you too, Max. You look well." She laughed as he spun her around in the air.

"I'm not letting go until you promise to never leave me again."

"Alright, alright, put me down!" Riley giggled, feeling the warmth and affection of her Cordonian best friend.

Marabelle, 'The Game of Kings 2'

Sophie and Liam's performance was electric, their teamwork flawless as they dominated the field.

Sophie felt a sense of pride as the crowd cheered her on.

She couldn't believe she was actually doing this. It was exhilarating.

Sitting alongside King Constantine, Barthelemy watched his neice admirably; his thoughts singular...

'She will make a remarkable queen'.

📌Perma-tags:@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234

📌Liam x Riley,MC/ OTP: @jared2612 @irisk12 @thesvnsins @walkerdrakewalker

📌Liam x Riley, OC: @emersyn-in-cordonia @mainstreetreader @belencha77 @iluaaa @mysticalfangirl @queenwalton @bascmve01 @umccall71 @choicesfrog @amandablink @ownworldresident

📌Liam x Sophie: @charlotteg234

#tessa liam writes #liam rys #the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #choices fic writers creations #wip wednesday

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mischiefandmedicine · 1 month

Text

Very Full - Chapter 7: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Summary: Melara confronts Loki at the end of time.

Word Count: 2,611 words.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff, implied smut (sorry, my kiddos were reading this story, so I couldn't write it full-blown smut how I wanted to...maybe in another story about these characters because I already have another one in the works).

Soundtrack Link

This Chapter's Music Inspiration:

Dream a Little Dream of Me performed by Anne Reburn

Very Full MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter

Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

---

A/N: Writing this chapter made me cry. Every time I re-read it, I cry. It's a little shorter than the rest, but it gets the job done.

---

The spectral form of Loki, flickering at the edges where the moonlight met the shadow, eyed Melara with a tumult of emotions playing across his face. It was a face torn between worlds, between the stark duties of a god and the raw, burgeoning need of a being who now found himself inexplicably bound to a mortal.

“I told you, I simply cannot take you to me,” he began, his voice a mixture of regret and iron-clad resolve. “There are consequences, Melara, repercussions that ripple through time and space, affecting not just us, but the very fabric of this…your reality.”

Melara’s gaze did not falter, her voice rising to match the intensity of her emotions. “And what of the consequences of your absence here? Of promises half-fulfilled, of a presence that is more shadow than substance?” Her words, sharp as shards of glass, aimed to pierce the veil of his indecision.

Loki’s form shimmered, a sign of the conflict raging within. He was the guardian of the timelines, the one who sat upon the throne at the end of all things, and yet here he was, grappling with the deeply personal, intimate plea of a woman who had managed to carve a niche in his ancient heart.

“The fabric of your world…of you…has become interwoven with every essence of my being,” he confessed, his usual flamboyance stripped away, leaving raw honesty. “Even across the great distance. To bring you to me is to expose you to the infinite complexities of existence, to the eternal burden I carry. It is to risk more than you can imagine.”

Melara’s response was laden with a heartbreaking mixture of hope and despair. “I have shared my darkest fears, my deepest pain with you. I have been vulnerable in ways I never thought possible. Can you not trust me to face your truth?”

Loki’s projection continued to kneel before her, a symbolic gesture that transcended the physical distance between them. “It is not a matter of trust,” he whispered, his voice carrying an echo of his duty to protect both the timelines and her. “It is a matter of safeguarding what I have come to cherish above all else. What you seek is redemption, Melara, and it is I who should be redeemed.”

The air was thick with the unspoken words and the gravity of the decision that lay before him. Loki’s eyes closed, a silent prayer to the fates that had led him to this juncture. When they opened, a new determination sparkled in his eyes, a clarity that had been absent moments before.

“I will bring you to me,” he said, the words falling like stones into the stillness of the room. “But you must be prepared for the journey, for the truth of what you will see. You must understand that who is before you is but one facet of a being forged in the crucible of time and chaos.”

Melara stood resolute in her demand. “Take me to him,” she repeated simply.

And with those words, the room around them began to shift, the walls of reality thinning as Loki extended his hand towards her, covering her eyes as a gust of air blew at her tousled hair. The veil between their worlds was lifting, and together they stepped forward into the maelstrom of destiny, their fates forever entwined.

Melara’s eyes fluttered open at the cessation of the breeze, the air still, yet charged around her. The chill of the air made her shiver in her thin nightgown, and she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. Her gaze fell upon her feet, bare against the cold marble that seemed to stretch endlessly before her, leading upwards in the dark. The staircase before her was majestic, its surface a dance of gold and onyx-colored stone, each step seemingly alive with a light that pulsed from the cracks, veins of power leading towards an ethereal vortex swirling with hues of green and purple.

Loki’s projection, a guide at the threshold of worlds, nodded towards the ascent. “Up you go,” was all he said, his voice a whisper in the vastness.

With a breath that felt like the first, Melara began her climb, each step resonating with the echo of destinies being woven and unwoven in the distance. The closer she came to the apex, the more the timelines, those ribbons of fate, sang with the voices of countless lives lived and yet to be lived.

There, at the summit, sat Loki, his form more substantial than any projection could encapsulate, immersed in the silent orchestration of time itself. His eyes, pools of eternity, were fixed on the dance of green strands that flowed through his fingers like water. He was the architect of destinies, the custodian of time’s flow, and she recognized this as the vision she’d had of him night after night in her dreams since the day they had met. The sight of Melara seemed to puncture the very fabric of his being, a single tear betraying the stoicism etched into his features.

In one swift motion that held the grace of the ages, he drew the timelines around him, crafting them into a cloak that shimmered with the essence of all realities, the throne beneath him as much a part of him as the breath of the cosmos. As Melara approached, each step reverent and bold, she reached out to touch the tear, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the cold she had felt from the lips of his projection just moments before.

Her hands, tender and hesitant, traced the contours of a face marked by the passage of eons, the lines telling stories of laughter, of sorrow, of battles fought in the shadows and light. He responded to her touch, a being of power yielding to the simple act of a physical connection, the need to be seen, to be felt.

Seated in the cradle of his existence, she leaned in, her lips finding his in a kiss that was a confluence of the past, present, and future – a merging of mortal and divine. The kiss deepened, and Loki’s embrace enfolded her, the timelines now a radiant backdrop to the union of two souls drawn together across the impossible expanse of reality. His fingers explored the reality of her, a contrast to the timelines that he had only manipulated but never felt as he felt her now.

In their embrace, the universe seemed to pause, the timelines glowing ever brighter, a testament to the power of a moment that defied the very laws of nature. It was a passion born of the convergence of two paths, a mortal and a god, in the heart of infinite realities and realms as Loki pulled Melara to rest in his lap, not releasing her lips until she pulled away gasping for air.

Melara’s eyes fluttered open in the stillness that followed their kiss, locking with Loki’s. The chaotic dance of the timelines around them seemed to slow as if giving them a rare moment of tranquility amidst the usual tumult of the multiverse. She gazed into the eyes of the god who had woven himself into her life, her expression a blend of awe and affection, the enormity of the moment not lost on her.

With a weak but heartfelt smile, she whispered, “Hello,” her voice barely rising above the whispers of time that threaded through the space around them. It was a greeting, yes, but also an acknowledgment of the new depth to their relationship, a single word that spoke volumes of acceptance and understanding.

Loki, taken aback by the simplicity and depth of her greeting, returned her smile with a warmth that had nothing to do with the power he wielded. “Hello,” he echoed, the word a promise and an offering, a vow to honor the trust she placed in him at this confluence of their lives.

Melara’s voice trembled as she began to speak, but Loki gently placed a finger upon her lips, silencing the fight within her. His eyes, a mirror to the cosmos, gazed into hers with a silent intensity. “Melara,” he whispered, the timbre of his voice quivering with the truth of his heart, “across the distances, you have managed to bewitch me, mind, body, and soul. From the very first note that escaped those lips, I have loved you.” There was a sacred silence that fell between them, as if the universe paused to concede to the depth of his confession.

The timelines cast their emerald glow on Melara and Loki. Melara, ever blunt and unmoved by Loki’s grandeur, met his gaze with a mixture of warmth and reprimand. “That’s quite the speech, but you’re not off the hook yet,” she teased, her tone light yet firm. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do, Loki. But…I suppose being loved by a god isn’t the worst fate in the cosmos,” she admitted, a playful nod to his confession.

Loki’s gaze softened as warmth blossomed on Melara’s skin, her words igniting a flush that spread across her cheeks. Gently, he cradled her face in his hand, savoring the genuine touch, the real connection that had eluded him until this moment – a sharp contrast to the hollow interactions of his projection that she had rejected so fervently just before her journey to his throne.

In the stillness of their profound embrace, Melara’s breath whispered against the fabric of reality, her voice a tender caress in the vast silence of the throne room. She drew near, her lips a breath away from Loki’s ear, the softness and warmth of her skin as it brushed against his elicited a long melodious sigh from his lips as she began to sing the words, “Stars shining up above you.” She smiled, leaning her head against his.

“Night breezes seem to whisper,” pausing, she carefully whispered the words “I love you.”

Loki’s entire essence melted as she continued, enveloping him in the quiet melody she had chosen, an Earth song of dreams and whispered love.

Birds singing in the sycamore trees, Dream a little dream of me.

A single tear fell from her eye as she pulled back to drink in the sight and scent of Loki. His skin was soft and his smell was a delicious resinous fragrance, reminiscent of the deep, verdant forests surrounding her hometown. The lyrics were clear in her intent, a gentle declaration meant for him alone. Her voice was subdued compared to the belted words she had crooned on the night they had first met. This essence of her voice floated with the subtle vibration that resonated down to the core of his corporeal being. Loki, the god of stories, found himself enveloped in a narrative of intimate simplicity, a single, shared moment that eclipsed the grandeur of his dominion over time and space.

Say ‘night-y night’ and kiss me.

She paused to kiss Loki’s forehead gently.

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me.

Another pause to kiss each of his eyelids sweetly.

While I’m alone and blue as can be, Dream a little dream of me.

And yet another pause to choke back the tears from falling. Loki wiped them, mesmerized as she continued with a smile, the song soaring as she rocked the pair slowly, arms tightening around Loki’s shoulders as they sat entwined on the throne.

Stars fading but I linger on, dear, Still craving your kiss. I’m longing to linger ‘til dawn, dear, Just saying this…

Melara bit her lip, her voice cracking as she let a bittersweet giggle float from her lips before continuing.

Sweet dreams ‘til sunbeams find you, Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you, But in your dreams, whatever they be… Dream a little dream of me.

On the throne seated at the end of time, Loki and Melara lingered as the last notes of her song hovered in the air, threatening to be set adrift by the whirling of the timeline cloak draped down Loki’s back. He cradled Melara, memorizing her every curve, the drape of her hair as it framed her face, how her eyes glowed, reflecting the light of the timelines burning brighter from the strength that her presence gave to Loki’s magic.

Melara leaned in to kiss Loki’s lips carefully, pulling back to whisper against them, “Do you hear that Loki?”

“What’s that?” he asked her curiously.

A twinkle of mischief gleamed in her eyes as a smile pulled at her lips as they ghosted Loki’s. “I believe that’s the sound of the great god of stories brought to his knees by a mere mortal’s song. The tales of the wild woman who stole his heart will be told across the multiverse.”

Loki, the architect of fates and weaver of time’s threads, could not help but laugh heartily – a genuine, heartfelt sound that eased the tension of the moment between them. Their argument faded to a distant memory as Melara’s laughter joined his, a duet that filled the chamber with a lightness that belied the gravity of their surroundings. For just that moment, they were not mortal and god caught in the machinations of destiny, but two souls sharing a connection that transcended the bounds of their respective existences.

It was unspoken between them that this was likely the only time they would ever share the same space, at least without an avatar getting between them. Neither of them chose to dwell on that fact. Instead, they shared this bittersweet joke between them, a nod to the intimacy that had grown between them over the few weeks when Loki stood watch over her recovery.

As the laughter and smiles faded, they just gazed into each other’s eyes, protecting the other from a reality that would soon set in. But first, they would make this truly a moment to savor for the rest of their respective lives, lips meeting again, this time passionately.

***

“Nope!” Saoirse stood up, raising her hands in protest. “No, no, no, no, no, no. Nope! Uh uh. You are NOT going to tell me about how you banged my mother on that fucking…I mean…that throne up there!”

Loki nearly fell out of his oversized velvet green armchair in laughter as he watched his daughter nearly to the edge of vomiting as she thought of him and Melara and their encounter at the end of time. “I don’t have to tell you anything, daughter. Your mere existence is the result of it.”

“Loki!” Saoirse shouted, conjuring a rock to hurl in her father’s direction, him catching it just as swiftly as it was tossed. “Just stop! You were supposed to be telling me about her performance! Not…not this.”

His laughter dwindled into the softness of the expansive room, a gentle reminder of where he had left off in the story. He cleared his throat, the velvet timbre of his voice taking on a reverent tone. “Very well,” he cooed. “But I assure you it would not be nearly as interes-…”

Picking up the blade beside her, Saoirse pointed the tip directly at Loki, a threatening glare darkening her eyes with purple hues shimmering. “I assure you that the story I asked for would be much more [dry heave] fascinating.”

“Okay, okay. Just put the blade down. It pains me to see you dry heave while wielding such a magnificent weapon,” he said in jest, waving at the dagger pointed at him. “Know where you came from and all that nonsense, right? But where were we?”

Saoirse rolled her eyes angrily, lowering the dagger while mumbling under her breath, “God of fucking mischief!”

---

Tags: @mischief2sarawr

#loki masterlist #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki #loki series #loki x reader

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peculiarcharlotte · 1 month

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the boy in striped pajamas: my sentiments

rating: 9.8/10

warnings: spoilers ahead + emotional damage (be prepared)

this was in my bucket list for quite some time, and i’ve only gone around to watching it a few days ago. to be frank, i’m still recovering, and i’ll probably never truly recover from this drastically touching cinematic masterpiece.

bruno was the son of an auschwitz’s commandant who moved his family to the countryside for work duties. in my eyes, bruno’s character was so beautifully human. unbothered by the atrocities currently happening, he remains curious and compassionate within his little bubble of innocence. he questions unashamedly, about the strange horrid smell coming from the “farm's” chimneys, (from the burning of jews), about the numbers on shmuel’s so-called pajamas (a jewish boy whom he had befriended).

unfortunately, purity never sustains in our blood-wrenched world. in the end, bruno’s death was a karmic result of the nazi regime, and his father’s ignorance and failure to protect him. it saddens me deeply knowing he died believing his father was a rightful man. he died thinking he’d find shmuel’s father in the concentration camps. he died so unknowingly. what breaks me the most, was he died gripping the hands of his beloved friend, shmuel, inside that gas chamber. i’m not lying when if i tell you i cried for three hours straight after this movie. it’s infuriating, knowing this wasn’t just made-up, stuff like this has happened, and honestly, they’re still happening! how could anyone let these children be stripped away of their humanity and futures like this? how does ethnic identity completely decide your social mobility? how is it justifiable in any way for genocide to even be worshipped?

therefore it’s such a provoking thought knowing if we could just entirely eradicate everything we’ve known about something and approach it through our intrinsic nature, perhaps we would've been so much more connected to our roots: to merge into a mere species, the human race. sometimes i wonder if current and past societies removed all the societal structures, the ingrained bigotries and biases within themselves, would racism and exclusion of marginalized groups ever exist in the first place? would i be able to kiss a person without the fear of being discriminated against? would the gender wars between man and woman become an incomprehensible notion? would we be able to finally collectively strive for the common greater good? would the generation of our offspring still have to worry about whether they’re going to be competent enough for the work market? so many questions and none can be answered. so many voices and none were heard. so many potentials, but none fulfilled.

overall, the film articulately depicts the true horrors of war and the tragic consequences it enforces. every scene was so raw, so full of emotions and authenticity. i would watch this again, probably just to feel something, even if i might be more emotionally damaged from being reminded of the devasting aftermath of bruno and shmuel’s forbidden comradeship.

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aellathedreamer · 4 months

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in a world of boys, he’s a gentlemen

“Got lovestruck, went straight to my head. Got lovesick, all over my bed”

A look through of Stacy and Edward’s relationship right after he proposed. The royal life, a whirlwind of emotions.

Chapter 18/40

Pairing: Stacy x Edward

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51843736/chapters/131078110

On the balcony of the magnificent royal gala, Edward and Prince Howard found a moment of reprieve from the joyous gala inside. Howard, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, extended a pack of cigarettes toward Edward.

"Fancy a smoke, my friend?" Howard offered.

Edward, with a good-humored grin, declined, "I'd love to, but Stacy would have my head if I dared. She's convinced that being a future king shortens my lifespan enough; adding a cigarette might push it too far."

Howard erupted into laughter. "Wise words from the future princess. Can't argue with that kind of logic, it seems that Stacy has you on a tight leash, wittle Edward."

Edward chuckled, nodding in agreement. "No, you really can't. Stacy has a way of keeping me grounded, even in the face of life's little temptations."

Leaning against the balcony railing, Edward turned to Prince Howard, a curious expression on his face. "So, Howard, is it true? Are you really going to abdicate as the Crown Prince of Montenaro?"

Howard, gazing out into the night sky, sighed and nodded. "Yes, Edward, it's true. It's a decision I've been considering."

Edward, genuinely intrigued, asked, "Are you sure this isn't like Richard having cold feet before ascending the throne? What led you to thisdecision? It's a significant step, i mean does your father even know?"

Howard took a moment before responding. "Being the crown prince comes with its own set of responsibilities and expectations. Lately, I've found myself yearning for a different kind of life, something beyond the confines of royal duties. Father doesn't know, don't want to disappoint him long enough. I mean, i already walked out of my supposed wedding. He's already ailing enough, and I don't want to burden him even more."

Edward, understanding the complexities of royal life, nodded empathetically. "It's not an easy choice, Howard. But if it's what you truly want, then I respect your decision. Have you told Margaret? Since she's obviously behind you in the line of succession,"

"Well... about that, well I haven't. Lets wish its like how Richard was, just cold feet." Howard appreciated Edward's understanding. "It's just one of those things—I've been questioning where my heart truly lies. And sometimes, you need to make unconventional choices for your own happiness. But honestly, I don't know."

The air was filled with a sense of mutual understanding, as each prince navigated the intricate paths laid out before them, considering the delicate balance between duty and personal fulfillment. Howard, with a serious expression, turned to Edward on the balcony. "Edward, I hope you're fully prepared to protect Stacy, especially considering how meddlesome the old coot can be. Be honest with me, does he genuinely approve of Stacy?"

Edward sighed, a hint of hesitation in his response. "The truth is, Howard, my father is rather skeptical about Stacy. He sees the potential issues her presence might bring to the family and the crown."

Howard raised an eyebrow. "That's not good, mate. Are you willing to go against your father's iron grip on the family for Stacy? And are you ready to bear the consequences?"

Edward, contemplating the weight of Howard's words, nodded. "Stacy means everything to me, and I won't let anyone jeopardize our relationship. Even if it means going against my father's wishes."

Howard, injecting a bit of humor into the conversation, quipped, "If things get too sticky, you can always threaten him with abdication. Works like a charm, I've heard."

Edward chuckled, recognizing the jest in Howard's suggestion. "I'll keep that in my back pocket, Howard. But in all seriousness, I'll do whatever it takes to protect Stacy and our future together."

—

As Edward silently approached Stacy's chambers, a mischievous glint in his eyes, he gently pushed the door open, hoping to surprise her with a late-night visit. To his surprise, he found Stacy sprawled on the bed, fast asleep, her exhaustion evident. Just as Edward was about to step further into the room, Amelie, seemingly appearing out of thin air, spoke behind him, nearly causing him to jump out of his skin.

"Your Highness," Amelie's composed voice cut through the silence.

Edward, caught off guard, turned to face Amelie, who regarded him with an amused expression. "Amelie, you scared the living shit out of me."

"Language, young man." Amelie reprimands him. "It's a skill acquired over years of attending to the royal family. And might I say, Your Highness, your attempt at stealth needs improvement."

Edward chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "I'll keep that in mind. How is Stacy? Is she alright?"

Amelie's gaze softened as she observed Edward. "She's exhausted. Fell asleep almost immediately after the tiring escapade in the bathroom rather than the royal gala."

Edward's cheeks flushed slightly, realizing that Amelie was well aware of the nature of their late-night activities. "Well, I suppose we did get carried away."

Amelie, ever composed, gestured towards the sitting area in Stacy's chambers. "Would you care for some tea, Your Highness? It might help you unwind after the eventful evening."

Edward nodded appreciatively. "Tea sounds perfect, Amelie, thank you."

As Amelie prepared the tea, the aromatic scent filled the room, creating a comforting atmosphere. Edward took a seat, and as Amelie served him the steaming tea, he couldn't help but reflect on the familiarity of the moment.

"Amelie, this gives me a sense of deja vu," Edward remarked with a thoughtful expression.

Amelie, who had been a constant presence since Edward's childhood, acknowledged with a serene smile. "The echoes of the past often linger in these walls, Your Highness. I have had the honor of serving the royal family for many years."

Edward took a sip of the tea, the warmth spreading through him. "You've been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. I suppose moments like these trigger a sense of nostalgia."

Amelie nodded knowingly. "Indeed, Your Highness. The palace holds a lot of memories, and I briefly remember chasing after you, Prince Howard and now the King Richard, while all three of you are in diapers."

Edward chuckled briefly as he stared into his cup. "Those were the good times I guess,"

"Now look at you all three, all grown up." Amelie smiles briefly. " King Richard is already married and is expecting their firstborn. Prince Howard, well is, Prince Howard, always a ladies' man. While you, getting married already, well dodging the first one."

"Oh come on, Amelie. I know you know the bethrotal between Margaret and I was my mother's payback to my father." Edward chuckles wryly.

Amelie's composed demeanor maintained its professionalism, yet a glint of understanding shone in her eyes. "Your mother does have a way of orchestrating events to make her point, Your Highness. Nevertheless, your path has taken a different turn now with Stacy."

Edward leaned back, a hint of contemplation in his gaze. "Stacy does bring a different energy to all of this. It's not what I initially expected, but it feels right."

Amelie, pouring herself a cup of tea, remarked, "Love has a way of surprising us, even in the most unexpected circumstances. It seems you and Stacy have embarked on a unique journey."

As Edward and Amelie sat in Stacy's antechamber, the tea offering a momentary respite, Edward couldn't help but delve into the more complex facets of royal life. "Amelie," he said, his voice carrying a weight of contemplation, "you've seen the darker side of our family, haven't you?"

Amelie, her gaze unwavering, acknowledged the unspoken truths. "Yes, Your Highness. I've observed the challenges that accompany the crown, the struggles within the family, and the impact on your upbringing."

Edward sighed, a mix of frustration and acceptance in his expression. "King George's choices have cast shadows on our family. His distant approach, the rumors—it's not the idyllic picture painted for the public, and everyone assumes I had it easy."

Amelie, choosing her words carefully, responded, "The crown demands sacrifices, and sometimes, those sacrifices extend beyond the public eye. It's a delicate balance, and the toll can be felt by those within the palace walls."

Edward, staring into the depths of his tea, reflected on the complexities of his relationship with his father. "I've tried to understand him, Amelie. But there are moments when the weight of his decisions becomes burdensome. I do not know how he was proud to be a terrible father and husband but a good ruler."

Amelie coughs. "I doubt that old coot was a good ruler. We cannot forget the fiasco with Lady Tatiana, his first wife. Right at the critical moment of childbirth, your father refused medical intervention, ended up killing Lady Tatiana and the child. Older palace personnel called him 'George the Terrible', two years later he marries your mother."

In the midst of their conversation, Amelie's gaze turned earnest as she addressed Edward with a quiet intensity. "Your Highness, I want you promise me something."

Edward, intrigued and attentive, nodded. "Go on, Amelie."

"Promise me," she began, "that you will never let Stacy experience the heartache your mother endured. Ensure that her journey in this marriage is one of happiness and fulfillment. She's good for you, no matter how unhinged the two of you are."

Edward, touched by the gravity of Amelie's request, responded with sincerity. "Amelie, I promise you. I will do everything in my power to make sure Stacy's experience is nothing like my mother's. Her happiness will be a priority in our marriage."

Amelie, with a subtle nod, seemed reassured. "Your commitment to that promise will not only shape your relationship but will echo in the legacy of the royal family. It's a chance to break the cycle of shadows that have haunted these halls. They say you are your father's son but, i do not believe that. You are your mother's son."

Amelie, in a rare moment of humor, added a touch of humor to the conversation. "Your Highness, I swear to God, the moment you start acting like your father, your mother will snatch all of her good genes from you and leave you with a receding hairline."

Edward burst into laughter, appreciating the unexpected lightheartedness. "Amelie, that's quite the warning. I'll keep it in mind—no receding hairline for me."

The pair shared a good laugh. Amelie, maintaining her composed demeanor but hinting at a touch of maternal authority, addressed Edward about the complexities of his engagement. "Your Highness, while I understand the joy of being engaged, it's crucial to remember that it doesn't grant permission for unrestrained intimacy. I must remind you to exercise caution and, more significantly, to prevent any unexpected heirs to the throne."

Edward, acknowledging the weight of her words, nodded with a touch of apprehension. "You're right, Amelie. I'll be careful."

Amelie sighed, a blend of understanding and a subtle hint of amusement. "It's fortunate I haven't shared these details with your mother. She believes that you both remained chaste until marriage, which i believed that went down quite south earlier."

Edward's eyes widened, a flicker of trepidation crossing his face. "Please, Amelie, keep it that way. My mother would have my head if she learned otherwise."

Amelie, with a knowing look, replied, "You cheeky young man, your secret is safe with me."

—

Amidst the clinking of breakfast dishes and the murmur of the royal court, King George and Queen Caroline found a moment to steal away to their private chambers. The soft morning light streamed through the windows as they settled into a quiet corner of the balcony. Caroline, gently sipping her tea, broke the silence. "You know, George, Stacy has been handling her responsibilities quite admirably. She's adapting to her role with grace."

King George, his brow furrowed, replied, "I can't deny her dedication, but I can't shake off the feeling that her approach is too unconventional. Our traditions have safeguarded this kingdom for centuries."

Caroline set down her teacup, choosing her words carefully. "Change is inevitable, George. Stacy brings a fresh perspective, one that might be beneficial for our people. We can't remain stagnant; the world around us evolves."

King George let out a heavy sigh. "Caroline, I worry about the stability of our realm. Stacy's decisions, her way of doing things—it's uncharted territory. What if we lose the very essence that has defined our kingdom for generations?"

Queen Caroline joined him, her gaze also fixed on the horizon. "I understand your concerns, George. But consider this – Stacy's unconventional approach might be precisely what we need. The world is changing, and we must adapt to ensure the prosperity of our kingdom."

King George, his worry etched on his face, continued the conversation on the balcony. "Caroline, my concerns run deeper. Stacy wasn't born into the royal lineage. What if she can't fully comprehend the intricacies of our kingdom, or worse, what if she can't effectively help Edward?"

Caroline nodded, understanding the gravity of his apprehension. "George, birthright does not always determine one's ability to lead. Stacy's commitment and willingness to learn are evident. Besides, she complements Edward in ways we might not yet fully grasp. Besides have you truly seen how happy he is with her? Please do not control him, he is a man of his own."

In response to Caroline's plea not to control their son, King George's face tightened with offense. "Control? I'm safeguarding the very foundations of this kingdom! Edward's choices have consequences beyond his personal happiness. You undermine the legacy I built for this dynasty, Caroline."

Caroline, undeterred, held her ground. "George, love and understanding must accompany responsibility. We can guide Edward without stifling his choices. It's time to trust him and embrace the path he has chosen for himself. Our family's strength lies in unity, not in exerting control."

The king, fueled by his concerns and frustrations, uttered with a steely resolve, "Caroline, mark my words. If everything goes awry, I won't hesitate to use that girl as a sacrificial lamb to salvage the royal family's image. The stability of our kingdom is paramount, and I won't let sentimentality jeopardize it."

Caroline, now facing the harsh reality of the choices ahead, responded with a mix of sadness and determination, "George, sacrificing someone for the sake of an image is a dangerous path. We must find a way to navigate these challenges without forsaking the very values we hold dear. Our family's legacy should not be built on the ruins of others."

Caroline's words hung in the air, emphasizing the delicate balance between duty and compassion. King George, unyielding, countered, "Caroline, sentimentality blinds you to the realities of our position. Edward needs to understand the sacrifices required for the greater good. The stability of the kingdom cannot be compromised for personal emotions."

Undeterred, Caroline pressed on, "George, our family's strength lies in unity and understanding. Edward loves Stacy deeply, and using her as a pawn in our political chess game will only estrange our son. We must find a way to navigate these challenges without sacrificing the happiness he has found."

The tension in the room deepened, mirroring the broader conflict between tradition and the changing tides of the royal family. King George, firm in his resolve, insisted, "Caroline, it's time to ground Edward to reality. He cannot have everything he desires. We must make him understand that the pursuit of personal happiness should not come at the expense of the stability of the royal family and the kingdom."

Caroline, grappling with the weight of such a decision, responded, "George, imposing harsh realities on Edward may estrange him further. We need to find a balance, guiding him with understanding rather than forcing him to abandon his aspirations. Our family's strength lies in unity, not in dictating unyielding terms."

King George, acknowledging the strained relationship with his son, briefly said "Caroline, let's not pretend that Edward holds me in high regard. He already harbors resentment, and steering him away from his desires might intensify that animosity. However, as a monarch, I must prioritize the kingdom's stability over personal sentiments."

—

One bright morning in the royal courtyard, Edward surprised Stacy with a beautifully adorned carriage waiting under the golden rays of the sun. "How about a private carriage ride, just the two of us before I leave for parliament?" he suggested, a twinkle in his eye.

As the carriage meandered through the palace grounds, the morning sunlight danced on the dew-kissed flowers. Stacy couldn't help but marvel at the serenity of the day. "It's lovely out here. I appreciate you taking the time for us to be alone."

Edward smiled, his gaze fixed on her. "There's nothing I'd rather do than spend a quiet morning with you. With all the wedding preparations, I thought we could use a peaceful moment."

Stacy leaned back against the plush seat,"I sometimes forget how much our lives have changed. I mean, who would have thought I'd be here, in a royal carriage, marrying a prince?"

Edward chuckled, intertwining his fingers with hers before gently kissing the back of her hand. "Fate has its own way of surprising us. And I'm grateful for every twist and turn that led me to you."

The carriage rolled to a gentle stop at a secluded spot with a breathtaking view of the morning-lit palace. Edward stepped out and extended his hand to Stacy, leading her to a small area where a blanket was laid out. "I thought we could have a quiet moment under the morning sun," Edward said, his eyes reflecting the affection he felt.

Stacy sighed contentedly, settling beside him. "This is perfect, Edward. Amidst all the pomp and circumstance, it's these quiet moments that mean the most."

Edward gazed out over the palace grounds, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Stacy, there's so much more beyond the wedding—our life together, the responsibilities, the challenges."

Stacy, leaning comfortably against him, looked up with a smile. "I know it won't always be a fairy tale, Edward. But I'm ready for whatever comes our way. We make a great team."

As the carriage rolled on, their candid conversation forged a deeper understanding between them. They acknowledged that a life together meant embracing not just the highs but also the lows, and finding strength in their partnership. By the time the carriage circled back to the palace, the morning had woven a tapestry of shared dreams and promises. Edward and Stacy stepped out, not just as a prince and a future princess, but as companions ready to face the adventures that awaited them beyond the pressures of the upcoming royal wedding.

As the carriage eased to a stop, Edward turned to Stacy with a sincere expression. "Stacy, I want to apologize in advance. My royal duties can be demanding, and there might be times when they take up much of our time."

Stacy reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm. "Edward, there's no need to apologize. I understand the responsibilities that come with your position. We're a team, remember? We'll navigate this together."

He smiled gratefully but couldn't shake the concern in his eyes. "I just feel bad sometimes, thinking that I might not give you all the attention you deserve. You're marrying into the royal family and I am not here always, I don't want to let you down."

Stacy leaned in, her eyes meeting his with unwavering reassurance. "Edward, it's not about the quantity of time but the quality. We'll find moments, no matter how small, to cherish each other. And when duty calls, I'll be right here, supporting you every step of the way."

His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled her into a warm embrace. "Thank you for understanding, Stacy. You'll have me all to yourself once the wedding is over."

As they walked back to the palace hand in hand, the air was filled with a sense of understanding and mutual support. Edward knew that even amidst the grandeur of royal obligations, Stacy would be his constant, the anchor that kept him grounded in love.

—

In a private room within the palace, Amelie and Stacy had a serious sit-down conversation. Amelie, known for her stern demeanor and adherence to protocol, looked at Stacy with a gaze that held both gravity and a hint of compassion.

"Stacy, I believe it's crucial that we have this discussion," Amelie began, her tone measured. "Marrying into the royal family means your life will undergo a profound change. The dynamics, the expectations—it's a world apart from anything you've experienced."

Stacy nodded, her expression serious. "I understand that, Amelie. I know I do have to adjust and its fine by me."

Amelie continued, her words deliberate. "Once married, Edward's allegiance and loyalty will be primarily to Belgravia. As his wife, you'll share in that commitment, but the crown will always come first."

Stacy listened, absorbing the weight of Amelie's words. Amelie chose a metaphor to convey the reality of the situation. "In this union, you are second to the crown. The responsibilities, the decisions—Edward's duty to the nation will shape our course, and you'll be part of that journey."

Stacy took a moment before responding. "I love Edward, and I want to support him and be part of this nation. But Amelie, does that mean our personal life will always be overshadowed by his role?"

Amelie nodded solemnly. "It means sacrifices, Stacy. Your personal life will be scrutinized, and certain aspects will inevitably be shared with the public. The line between private and public becomes thin, and you must be prepared for the constant scrutiny."

Stacy took a deep breath, realizing the magnitude of what lay ahead. "You're asking me to be ready for a life where I'm not just marrying Edward but also stepping into a role where I'm connected to something much larger."

Amelie affirmed with a nod. "Exactly. Once you take this step, there's no turning back. I want you to understand the gravity of this commitment. It's not just a marriage; it's a life intertwined with her, Belgravia."

As Stacy processed Amelie's words, the reality of the responsibility she was about to shoulder settled in. The path ahead was clear, and Amelie, though stern, served as a guiding force, preparing her for the intricacies of a life where love and duty walked hand in hand. Amelie, maintaining her composed demeanor, addressed Stacy with a stark reality. "Stacy, it's crucial to understand that once you're married, you shouldn't expect Edward to be around as always. His duties to the crown will often take precedence, and there will be times when he won't be readily available."

Stacy, absorbing the gravity of Amelie's words, nodded. "I know he has responsibilities, but does that mean we won't have time together?"

Amelie clarified, "You will have moments together, but they might be limited. Royal duties demand his presence at various events and functions. It's a commitment that comes with the position."

Stacy took a deep breath, grappling with the idea of a life where time with Edward might be scarce. "I understand that he has duties, but will he always have to choose between them and our time together?"

Amelie's response was straightforward. "Yes, there will be choices, and at times, duty will prevail. It's a sacrifice both of you will have to make. The expectations of a prince, and eventually a king, are demanding, and his time will be spread thin."

Stacy, though thoughtful, expressed her concern. "I want to support him, but I also want a marriage where we can share our lives."

Amelie acknowledged Stacy's sentiment. "There will be moments, Stacy, but the balance is delicate. You'll need to find solace in the quality of time you spend together rather than the quantity. It's a unique challenge of royal life."

Amelie, her usually stoic demeanor softening with a rare glimpse into her personal history, began to confide in Stacy. "I've been in service to Queen Caroline since Prince Edward was an infant. I entered the palace at the tender age of 15."

"I've witnessed the grand sweep of history within these walls," Amelie continued, her gaze distant. "There were moments when consorts were left to raise the children, to navigate the intricate dance of duty when their partners were called away."

Intrigued yet respectful of the gravity of the conversation, Stacy asked, "What do you mean?"

Amelie's eyes held a mixture of lingering pain and poignant memories. "Let me paint a picture for you. When Queen Caroline was in the throes of childbirth with Prince Edward, King George was absent." She paused, and Stacy could clearly see her attache's gaze harden. "He wasn't by her side; instead, he was away—golfing with his colleagues, engrossed in discussions about state affairs."

Stacy's expression shifted to a mix of surprise and empathy. "He wasn't there for the queen during such a crucial moment?"

Amelie nodded, her gaze steady. "No, he wasn't. The queen fought for her life in the birthing chambers, and the king was immersed in other matters. It was a stark illustration of the profound sacrifices and unyielding expectations that come with royal life."

Stacy, now understanding the depth of Amelie's experiences, asked softly, "How did Queen Caroline endure such moments?"

Amelie's response carried a profound weight. "Queen Caroline, like many royal consorts, bore the weight of duty with a heavy heart. These instances were not just personal sacrifices but a testament to the unwavering commitment to the kingdom. I share these painful truths with you, Stacy, not to instill fear but to unveil the somber realities you might face. Because once you married into the family, I warn you, my dear. You can never leave, unless you die."

As Stacy absorbed the profound and painful revelations, she recognized the intricate tapestry of history woven with threads of duty, sacrifice, and the relentless expectations that framed life within the palace walls. The conversation unveiled the poignant struggles of those who served the crown, painting a stark portrait of the delicate balance between personal aspirations and the unyielding responsibilities of royalty.

#the princess switch #prince edward of belgravia #stacy de novo #your honor they are in love #this is canon in my head #not prince howard dissing the king #Do i hate king george #absolutely

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thelegendoftelezia · 1 year

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The Mark of a Soulmate

Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword fan-fiction

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Description: Asuriel has been raised on the Surface her entire life. Completely oblivious to the world above the clouds, she prepares to fulfill her duty of being an attendant to Hylia. What will happen when her world is changed forever?

Chapter twenty one:

Okay, I'm back with the next chapter- oh dear... it seems I've time traveled months into the future. Well anyways, the chapter isn't as long as I would like, but it has been sitting here gathering dust, so I finally edited what I had because you deserve at least as much as I have written.

They stopped walking when they had entered the gorge again. From her position behind the hero, Asuriel noticed the stiffness of his posture.

"Link, is everything alright? You seem upset."

"It's fine, Asuriel. Just, be careful about what you tell him."

"What do you mean? Do you know him? Is he dangerous?"

Link paused for a moment, weighing his words carefully.

"Not to you."

"Not to me? What does that mean?"

"The mission that I'm on... it's incredibly important and it should not be shared with everyone."

"Is he a danger to your mission?"

"Yes- I mean no. Kind of?"

Link paused, trying to determine what to do. If he wished, he could tell Asuriel exactly who Ghirahim was, making her too afraid to go near him. He could promise to protect her and care for her, but that would make her sacrifice pointless. He couldn't bring himself to do that.

"Listen, it's not really my place to tell you. I could say a lot of things about Ghirahim, but I think you should get to know more about him on your own."

"But you said-"

"Forget what I said, we have work to do anyway."

Link began to walk off towards the edge of the gorge as Asuriel stood motionless, watching him. For Hylia's chosen hero, he seemed to be a little short on temper. Maybe she was just asking too many questions.

Meanwhile, Link was trying desperately not to look back. He knew he had to be harsher with Asuriel to ensure that there would not be a repeat, but he wasn't sure how long he could be rude. Just the look in here eyes when he cut her off was almost enough to break his resolve. How was he supposed to travel all around the surface with her? He had to pull himself together before he did something stupid.

Drawing his sword, Link stabbed the timeshift stone on the mine-cart he had guided to the gorge. Immediately, he was surrounded by lush grass and vibrant flowers. He heard the girl let out a noise of surprise as the change occurred.

"What just happened?"

Link's attention was drawn away from answering her when he caught sight of the dragon. Even though he appeared to be sick, the Lanayru commanded an ere of majesty that could not be suppressed by anything that might ail him.

Unlike when she first met Faron, Asuriel felt a flutter of unease in her stomach. She had been familiar with a dragon, so why did she feel so much more afraid now? She took a few steps to the side, hiding behind Link's taller frame, not daring to peer out from behind him just yet. As they stopped in front of Lanayru, he coughed a few times before addressing them.

"Oh, hello... I haven't had a visitor like you here in... quite a while. You're a human, aren't you? You must have some reason for coming this far. What is it?"

There was a feeble edge to his voice, but even so, it was obvious just how powerful it could be. Link provided an abbreviated version of his purpose.

"I see. So you're Link from the sky..."

He was interrupted by a brief coughing fit.

"That's not much of a name, is it? How about I add a model number to your name like my friends have got? Maybe LD-Link-16? I can tell you don't like the sound of that. That's a shame... oh, who's this?"

Asuriel had chanced a peek around LD-Link-16 and had been noticed. Immediately, she scooted behind him again.

"Don't be shy now, I promise I won't try to rename you."

There was a moment of silence before the girl stepped into view. She wanted to keep her head down to avoid eye contact, but Faron had taught her better than that.

"My name is Asuriel."

"That is a beautiful name, but what a curious choice for a human child..."

"Yes, it would certainly be a curious choice. However, I was created by Her Grace Hylia, and there is no name for what I am."

"Intriguing, but I do not recall any creation of the goddess by the name of Asuriel."

"There is a possibility that you may know me by the name I was given before I was fully made."

The dragon paused for a moment, trying to recall information far into the past.

"Could it be? Lothsiriel?"

"Yes."

"Well... just look at you! The last time I saw you, you were nothing but a small lily bud. You've grown so much, how old are you now?"

"I turned eighteen not long ago."

"My goodness, you've turned out to be quite the young lady. I don't suppose you know who your soulmate is? It was an interesting detail for Hylia to create, but it must be rather exciting."

"No, not yet. How did you know?"

"A few of Hylia's closest subjects know about you. We were all very excited to meet you."

After a few minutes of them discussing Asuriel's upbringing and Faron's scrupulous attention to teaching everyone she met proper manners, Link interrupted to remind them of the issue at hand. Lanayru explained about the Fruit of Life, but, before Link left, requested that the hero leave Asuriel behind with him.

"It'll make your journey quicker and easier, even though I'm sure this young lady would never be a burden to you."

Link agreed, partially to avoid an argument and loss of more time. Meanwhile, Asuriel decided to work on the process of creating Tadtones that Faron had taught her. She didn't know why the dragon was so set on her learning the skill, but she happily practiced it because it gave her an excuse to sing.

She started with the base of a faire light, then added more complicated spells until grew into a large, swirling orb of light that burst into five separate Tadtones. Directing them to float before her, she focused on each one in turn and taught one note to each. The Tadtones repeated their notes in a tangled cacophony until Asuriel showed them how to sing them in turn. As the melody became clear, they flew around in delight, causing the song to echo throughout the gorge.

"I remember when Faron showed me her first group of Tadtones," commented Lanayru, "she taught them the Ballad of the Goddess and they sang for Hylia."

"Would you like to help me. It's a lot of work to teach them alone."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to sing much until Link comes back with that fruit. However, you seem to be doing a spectacular job on your own. What are you teaching them?"

"It's a song created for Link's sword spirit, Fi. Impa taught it to me a while ago."

"Would you mind singing it for me?"

"Of course not, I would be honored."

Asuriel wasn't used to singing for those she didn't know well, but she felt more at ease after interacting with Lanayru. Even after the song finished, she sung others things for him until Link returned with the fruit. Needless to say, the dragon felt much better after eating it.

"I owe you a big thank-you, so allow me to preform a moving rendition of my part of the Song of a Hero. I should warn you. I've got a mean set of pipes and I know how to use them! This'll clean out your ears, boy, so brace yourself."

Lanayru's part was indeed very moving, even the surrounding robots stopped their work to listen. Link began walking back to the bird statue, but before Asuriel followed, she turned back around and spoke.

"Farewell, Lanayru. I should hope that I will be able to visit you again."

"As do I. Goodbye, Asuriel"

And so they set of the for the Eldin Province and the third part to the Song for a Hero. Everything was going well until they began their descent. The very air around the volcano seemed to quake as the mountain of fire erupted, sending Asuriel and Link flying out of control. As they fell, Link tried desperately to grab Asuriel's hand and reopen his sailcloth to break the fall, but she was out of his reach. Finally, he hit the ground, and everything went black.

When the hero woke up, he was without weapons, without equipment, and trapped in a bokoblin hut. There were bars blocking the entrance and a guard was set outside, but something else didn't feel right. Where was Asuriel?

Link panicked. They had fallen at the same time and in the same direction. The bokoblins that captured him must have not seen her, or just left her. He had to make sure that she was okay, but he wasn't feeling too good himself. He had a splitting headache and he was rather beat up, even for falling that distance. And, without Fi's guidance, he wasn't sure if he could make it out.

Asuriel cracked her eyes open and looked around her. She was in a hut of sorts, laid across a makeshift bed. The inside of the structure looked like a sphere and there was an opening at the opposite end of it. Carefully, she sat up and set her feet on the ground. She had barely been conscious enough to create a shield before she hit the ground, so she didn't sustain much, if any, injury. Her thoughts went immediately to Link. She had tried to locate him, but the smoke-filled air, bright lava, and speed of the fall had converged into a whirling haze and prevented her from helping him.

Upon exiting the hut, Asuriel found that she was in a camp that was located inside what appeared to be a cave. Occupying a few of the huts, crouched by small fires, and walking around were many of the creature Faron referred to as 'Bokoblins'. Two or three of them looked up at her, but made no move towards their weapons.

At the far end of the room, she noticed an opening that led outside. She walked towards it, but was stopped by one the bokoblins. It stood in front of her, blocking her path, and began to move towards her while slowly waving its sword to encourage her to move. When she was a sufficient distance from the exit, the bokoblin relented and returned to one of the fires. Asuriel stood where she was, considering what she should do. In the corner of her eye, Asuriel noticed two of them exiting and wondered where they were going. It was clear that the bokoblins were keeping her there for some reason or another, making her wonder if she really wanted to stick around to find out what.

The need for rest nagged at the edge of her mind. She had gone from the Faron Woods to the Lanayru region to the Eldin Province in one day, and she was becoming tired from the traveling. Asuriel didn't necessarily trust the bokoblins, but they had had an opportunity to hurt her before; maybe she should get some rest while she could. But, she couldn't just abandon Link, he might not have been as fortunate. Her current duty, after all, was to aid him, not take a nap when he was in danger.

Her mind being made up, she made her way to the wall and slowly began to inch towards the exit. It wasn't until she was a few feet away that she was spotted. The screech of one of the bokoblins alerted the others in the cave, who rose from their various places and began to run towards her. Asuriel hesitated for a moment, wondering whether it would be better to wait and try again later; but, she might not get such a good opportunity if she let them catch her now. Without wasting another moment, she turned and bolted through the short passage.

The first thing Asuriel noticed upon exiting the cave was how ominous the Eldin Province looked. The sky was a deep red, clouded with ash and soot. Fire spewed from the mouth of the volcano and glowing embers floated through the air. Unfortunately, she didn't have much time to enjoy the scenery before having to move on. From that point, there were a few paths that carved their way through the streams of lava and large outcroppings of rock. Asuriel scanned her surroundings as she ran, searching for any sign of Link. Slowly, the cries of the bokoblins began to fade into the distance and Asuriel slowed to a walk. She had seen no hint of Link, but she wasn't about to give up. He was still somewhere in the province, she just had to keep looking.

Asuriel's feet began to hurt as she continued walking. The uneven surface of the volcano didn't help as she followed a path up it to gain a better vantage point. Even though she hadn't gone far up it, the smoke was slightly but noticeably thicker. She spotted a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to face it. Nothing was there, but Asuriel could have sworn she saw a shadow beside her move. For the second time that day, she turned and ran blindly as she kept looking back. All of a sudden, her next step was met with nothing but air. Asuriel whipped her head back to see she was hurtling over the edge of a chasm the ended in a river of lava.

She vainly flailed her arms and screamed, but her fall was cut short as something caught her around her waist. For a moment, all she could hear was her trembling breath before a voice spoke from behind her.

"I'm not sure about you, but this is not what I was envisioning for our second meeting."

Less than a heartbeat went by before Asuriel recognized the voice. It was as if she knew it well, even though she had only heard it once.

"I also had something different in mind, but I am glad that you rescued me from falling."

"Well, I couldn't let a helpless maiden fall to her doom. What sort of gentleman would I be?"

Truthfully, he could and did let a helpless maiden fall to her doom, which she so annoying avoided multiple times, but that information wasn't relevant at the moment.

"Although, I do think that you would like to not hang over lava."

Ghirahim pulled Asuriel back onto solid ground, making sure she gained her footing before letting her go.

"Thank you, Ghirahim. What may I do to repay for you saving my life?"

"Restitution is not wholly necessary, however if you insist, I would have your company tonight."

"If that is what you wish."

"It is. But, I am tiring from the sight of this bland and blistering landscape. Perhaps we could go somewhere a bit nicer?"

"My company is yours for the night, and you may bring it wherever you wish."

"That is a tempting offer... but I believe my first idea will do. It is not far from here."

Extending his hand to her, Ghirahim led Asuriel up the winding path to the heart of Eldin.

#the legend of zelda #Ghirahim #Demon Lord Ghirahim #lord ghirahim #Skyward Sword #linkxofc #GhirahimxOFC #zelda #lanayru

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mckiwi · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022 Day 14: "I'll Be Right Behind You"

Characters: Stephen Strange, Wong

Summary: Stephen's no stranger to choosing who lives and who dies

Stephen struggled to keep the gateway stable as Wong tightened the restraints around the villain, "Strange has an aversion to killing people. We do not share this sentiment." He then looked over to his friend and whispered, "what do you think we should do with him?"

Their prisoner, Gnuatryon, coughed and spat out blood, "Strange." He drawled, dragging his violet, cat-like eyes up to meet Stephen's. "The weight of Death drips off you as thick as molasses. You're a man who is more familiar with dying than living. But tell me, have you ever killed?"

Stephen swallowed, "yes."

Gnuatryon bared his fangs, "are you prepared to do it again?" At Stephen's hesitation, he continued, "did you forget I have an entire world under my command? A world on the brim of disaster. I am simply leading my people to a better future. Would you not do the same?"

The two sorcerers looked at each other, unsure. Stephen asked, "could we support the inhabitants? Let them live in secret on Earth?"

The other man shook his head, "doubtful. He's had most of the natives under his command and control for so long that they seek to kill anyone that isn't of their species."

"But they're still innocent?" Stephen reasoned. He looked through the wavering gateway to the other side. The ground beneath them was crumbling and the sky was quite literally falling. Women, children, and entire families were lined up at the gateway for refuge. A girl no older than fourteen held tightly to her younger brother, tear tracks glistened on her face. They made eye contact through the haze, and Stephen saw the fear of prey in her gaze turn into the hunger of a predator. He gulped.

Wong nodded sorrowfully, "however, if we grant them access to our world, they're sure to massacre us. No matter which we choose, someone is going to die."

Stephen shook his head frantically, "no. No, we can-"

Gnuatryon laughed hysterically, "you cannot be both the creator and the destroyer, Strange!"

Stephen stared wide-eyed at the prisoner. He had sworn an oath to do no harm, but how could he hold that oath while also fulfilling his duty to protect the Earth? He looked over at Wong, who seemed to be thinking along those same lines. "I'll be right behind you," Wong assured.

"You're right," Stephen confessed to the alien, who in turn looked at him expectantly. "I can't be both, but if saving my world means the end of yours, then so be it. I chose the path of the destroyer."

The prisoner gaped at him, "you can't! You'd be murdering millions!"

Stephen stared at his boots, "but I'd be saving billions."

"You coward! You'd just let us die in the name of logic? You're no better than the Mad Titan that decimated our forces all that time ago!" Gnuatryon was practically pleading with him now. "You're a monster. A heartless man who cares for no one."

"I'm sorry," Stephen apologized and hoped Gnuatryon could see the sincerity on his face, "I don't see the harm in letting you stay in our world if that's any consolation. You could live."

Gnuatryon turned away and closed his eyes, "no. I'd rather die with my people. It's only fair."

Wong spoke up, "are you sure?" Gnuatryon nodded slowly. "Very well."

Stephen watched through the gateway helplessly as Wong released Gnuatryon. He couldn't help but be reminded of all the people he had manipulated into sacrifice, if it could even be called that. Wasn't convincing someone to kill themselves no better than killing them yourself? The world on the other side would be ending soon. Stephen spotted a man wiping tears away from a woman's face. He really was a monster, wasn't he?

Gnuatryon stepped through the gateway and was immediately met with a toddler waddling her way up to him. He stooped down to pick her up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Somewhere just over the horizon, the ground was giving way to lava. People started scrambling for the gateway, desperately trying to escape their inevitable deaths.

He and Gnuatryon held eye contact as the gateway spun to a close. He heard the people cry out in disbelief and fear. The girl from earlier was looking around frantically for her missing brother. She would never find him. Stephen knew because he saw his body get consumed by the lava a moment earlier.

He let the portal collapse and suddenly he couldn't hold himself up. He felt a firm grasp guide him down to the floor, "easy." Stephen watched where the gateway had been, and to his shock, felt tears begin to form. He had just killed an entire planet. He was no better than Thanos. Wong held him as he sobbed. "I'm right here, Stephen. It's going to be okay. I'm right behind you."

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mnovenia · 7 months

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OCTOBER = 3 more months to 2024

Welcoming october 1st with many messages from God. Of course my selfishness want to highlight the progress of my convo with GwangHui. However, God also find a way to purify my heart, to think from His perspective instead of mine, to not be too easy in making conclusion or to fall into Satan's trap that want to take benefit from this situation.

I think from the last update we're about 2-3 day being in communication. I was so busy and so he was. I was going to Ubud with the youth, met Dede & his fam, getting to know his fam/perspective, also with Reno & Yuni. I'm glad to be able to go to the dentist, fulfilling my duty with Dentist, meeting w Arian, Fanie, Levina (testify all God's work), showing with Tommy, in the meantime maintain communication with Pak Ferry, Pingkan, June, Ko Wilson n gank, Tere, etc. I was also glad to spend time with Pat&Yogi, share about expectation in leading smallgroup, also with Levina to see God's wisdom in their marriage and growth of their child, that encourage me to still believe that marriage can work too.

On the same week, GH told me about his chuseok activities, how he told his relatives regarding his plans, his thought and fear about working in Bali. However, in all steps that he makes, I have so much trust and believe that he is doing it prayerfully, righteously (even to not send a wrong signal on messages to me, he is being careful), I believe that God who protecting us both are giving us wisdom of what to do upon this journey. I believe He also equip and urge us to do His will while He keeps us being single ~ as the song says:

The Youth’s Prayer: Let me give thanks for all He gives me Let me choose the gospel over wealth Let me walk the way of truth than fame The holy youth of Jesus Let me rightly give up all blessing gained through unjust ways, Let me be a clean pot in His eyes Let me live for His glory, As he willed in sending me on this earth Even in my weakness, let my faith in you be strong, Let me not be discouraged by the great waves of the world, When my youth passed by Let my life have looked as my Lord willed A life worshiping of God A life proclaiming the gospel I pray that is the life I will live Let me lay down my name and lift His high Let me lay down my name and lift His high Let me be a light in a dark world Let my life be used in saving a precious soul Let me grow in likeness to Jesus

The more I pray for Gwuang Hui the more I feel the weight and fear and the giants he might face. I'm sure as we share this burden, it will feel lighter. For the first time in a while I feel someone's burden on my shoulder. I know that's its not my time to be a hero or rely on my power nor strength, however I understand from human's perspective of how obeying God's command can be scary too. So at this time, I'm trying to place myself in Gwanghui's shoes. I'm sorry that he will spend less time with his father, he must gives up his fav foods/places/activities/familiarities/church families that's been supporting him to a new one, his stable job and financial resources. He has to face all the unknown without people that used to support him all his life. Gwanghuiya, nunaga nomu ihaehae, na ddo ara, geundae gokjonghajima, da gwaenchana, hananimi issemyon, da halsuichi, nuna ddo neo gajok anichi? hehe..

I beg and ask God to reveal the message clearly to him, speak to him softly in peace and straightforwardly through sermon, songs, prayer, people, devotion, kakaotalk, his family, I pray for he will have courage to face the fear and security in God's prefect plan for His plan, I pray that he will obey and seek God's will first before his own comfort or what he can gain from the world's perspective, I pray that he will not get discouraged and can enjoy this walk of God's process, I pray that he will witness God's might through his weakneses, I pray that Kim Gwang Hui will stand firm in his faith, for nothing can withheld what God has prepared for Him, no power will snatch him out of God's hands. In the meantime, he will prepare wisely, seek Godly counsel and be earful to listen of what to do, he can still be attentive to his father and his family, his colleagues, peers, sun members and everyone around him. I pray that in days to come, things will fall into places according to God's will and it will be his testimony of how God provide to His obedient child, who is willing to be sent for the sake of the Gospel, to live the life of Youth that's pleasing God's heart, I pray God will provide financially and repay what he gives up in order to follow this new path. I pray that Gwuang Hui can also enjoy this given new way, embrace this as God's gift instead of sacrifice, something to enjoy not to endure, he will realize that this opportunity doesn't come for everyone, so as God trust in him, put in his heart, he should just accept and embrace it with open arms, he will see slowly see God's hand making a way for Him everywhere he goes, I pray that he knows that he is so loved by God to be given this privilege, I pray that he will enjoy sharing his experience and be a real witness of how God treasure His son. Feel the depth of God's love, who gives Gwang Hui grace upon grace on the cross, give him understanding of the gospel and reveal to him who He is, and how God wants Gwang Hui to share this precious love to those who never heard before, to help where God needs extra hand in faraway country (where the works are plenty). May he be encouraged knowing that: 'though he may be weak, but God knows ALL he needs, He believe that God is still working for him, fix his eyes to Him that's taking care of His son, personally, specificly, Kim Gwang Hui is the one that the world truly needs, you are the very one that the Father seeks, and there is nothing else Gwang Hwi seeks than the name of Jesus Christ' - Amen

Also I want to talk about today's semon and how God speak to me.

Coram Deo: SAME PAGE, you and I are on the same page. A man according to God's heart. #sampaiakhirhidupku #chongnyongido

Absolute Bartizan that comes from faith

Acts 27: 20-26

-don't let opportunity of sharing the gospel goes out of you, no regret, even if it risked your relationship.

-Paul was having a hard time as a prisoner to share the gospel in Rome. Plus there was unpredicted storm happened. However only Paul stay and act peaceful, why? Because he has the absolute bartizan.

Faith that overcome your understanding (Iman yang menguasai)

-they went as a team community who grow biblically together, but when the ship was wrecked and they're stuck in a storm, a lot of them were panic and anxious in the midst of crisis.

-but Paul said calm down, do not be afraid and have joy in the midst of it all. How? Because he has his own personal special relationship with God the Father. He can confidently said the message he got from God's angel, and he hold on to that only.

-this should happen in our lives as well, we can hold on to firman mimbar only and seek nothing else, don't stop praying when you're in the midst of the storm.

-how could our faith be increased? Is it by your own power? Jesus said John 16:33 I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.

He is with us always, fear/anxiety will vanish when you're surrounded by our faith. And God love when things happen miraculously, not according to the world's cleverness.

2. Time to recall your calling that God has given (Jadwal untuk mengingat kembali akan amanat)

-God instructed Paul that he has to spread the gospel in Rome. This is the heavenly call for Paul that he cling unto, even in the midst of the storm.

-While you're still alive, you still have a purpose that you have to accomplish. Remember God's covenant and calling for you. Push other distractions that makes you lose focus on the goal God wants you to accomplish (Kristus, Kerajaan Allah, Kekuatan Roh kudus).

-be like Paul, just 1 person/individual but can bring out impact that so bright to allow us, not because that we're capable but because of God's command.

-God's power first that we need to prioritize then see where it leads. You're chosen by God alone, made suitable for your situation, with God's own reason and purpose. Don't lose the value that you have in Jesus. Amen.

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torchwood-99 · 7 months

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How Going To War Helped Eowyn Choose Peace

Eowyn was wronged by the people in her family. Not when she was left behind to rule Rohan while they were at war, but before then, when she was constantly left behind every time Eomer and his men rode out, limited in how she may live her life because of her gender, her skills and desires overlooked.

‘My friend,’ said Gandalf [to Éomer], ‘you had horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields; but she, born in the body of a maid, had a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. Yet she was doomed to wait upon an old man, whom she loved as a father, and watch him falling into a mean dishonoured dotage; and her part seemed to her more ignoble than that of the staff he leaned on. . . . who knows what she spoke to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all her life seemed shrinking, and the walls of her bower closing in about her, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?’

Caring for Theoden became solely her responsibility. It was placed entirely on her shoulders, and as she was unable to cure him or prevent his deterioration in the face of Grima and Saruman, even in that duty she felt hopeless.

Meanwhile, the freedom, catharsis and honour she might have found fulfilling duties her brother partook in were denied to her. She had no choice, no chance to do anything else, go elsewhere, be something other than Theoden's walking stick.

She was left alone to deal with those thoughts and those fears and that restlessness. Her own dreams and wishes and ambitions overlooked and ignored. Because she was a woman.

Not only that, she was constantly preyed upon by Grima, who desired her for her beauty and because she was the woman he "loved", and she could do little more than avoid him the best she could. She was trapped because she was a woman, and hounded because she was a woman.

Had those duties been split, had someone; like her brother, took on part of her caring role, so she could have been able to get away from Grima, go elsewhere, mix with her comrades at arms, have the freedom to ride out and partake in "horses, and deeds of arms, and the free fields;" her headset would have been very different by the time we meet her in canon. Still troubled, Rohan is seeing dark days over all, but she wouldn't have been so close to despair.

Nor do I think she would have resented the orders for her to remain and defend her people so much.

Those orders were not a wrong to her, nor were they necessarily a sign she was being limited in her opportunities because she was a woman. She as entrusted with leading and protecting her people, and she was given armour and a sword to do so. She was a leader and a warrior and respected as such. Her people needed defending and as the second line in the throne after Eomer, she was the right choice. If she were a bloke, the decision might very well have been the same.

Had these orders been given in the context of Eowyn not previously being denied freedom and opportunities due to her gender, they may not have been to her preference, but they wouldn't have been a further sign that she was to be caged in. Left behind to wait, only having a chance for valour and glory when the war came to them and all hope as pretty much lost. Left behind to be burned in her house, in the woman's place.

In that context, it would have been a sensible division of duties, one warrior and leader left behind to protect the people, hold the fort and be prepared to fight another day should the others fall.

But that wasn't the context. Eowyn had been suffering at the hands of her family's well meant but soul crushing sexism for too long. With the world likely to end, with everyone she knew and loved going out to meet the foe, and with her spirits destroyed, she decided to ride out in disguise and fight and; probably, die on her own terms, instead of waiting at home until death came for her.

I'm really glad that Tolkien included Gandalf's speech. LOTR doesn't have many women take centre stage, but when Tolkien puts Eowyn in the spotlight, the weight of sexism, the unjustness of it, even at the hands of good men, is acknowledged in its full force.

Tolkien's endgame for Eowyn is obviously directed by the overall message that peace and life is to be desired over war and death, which means Eowyn's happy ending resulted in her no longer wishing for a heroic death on the field above all else, which means that her ending also means choosing a life that we might consider more in line with gender roles than the life of a warrior. This is always going to be somewhat frustrating, especially for gnc who were told they would mature into femininity.

However, for me that's saved by the catharsis of Gandalf's speech, and Eowyn's speech to Aragorn about being permitted to be left in the house to burn.

“And she answered: 'All your words are but to say: you are a woman, and your part is in the house. But when the men have died in battle and honour, you leave to be burned in the house, for the men will need it no more. But I am of the House of Eorl and not a serving-woman. I can ride and wield blade, and I do not fear either pain or death.' 'What do you fear, lady?' he asked. 'A cage,' she said.”

The injustice that has been done to Eowyn due to her sex is called out and explored, by Gandalf and Eowyn herself. And when she rode out to fight, she proved brave and victorious and took a crucial role in the fight, vindicating this decision to seize control of her life, going against gender roles. There was no suggestion that she was wrong to go out and fight, no more than Theoden or Eomer or Aragorn or any of the Fellowship were. The only wrong she had was that her life had no meaning beyond and honourable death. And a large part of her depression is directly attributed to sexism.

While she recovers, and forges bonds with others (having won renown for her actions) she wants to live. She wants to enjoy the sweet parts of life, healing others as she has been healed and loving "all things that grow", a love that is shared by the hobbits and is one of their best traits and is what marks their world view as so admirable. Healing is also something that both men and women do, and healing is a sign that Aragorn is a worthy king and leader, so in-universe, she isn't walking back into the allotted female sphere.

Aragorn himself also tells Eowyn that he does not go to war out of preference, but because he must. His inclinations are for peace as well. It's a good point, and it shows that Tolkien's message applies to men as well as women. But Eowyn's rebuttal also highlights the difference between Aragorn, a man who may make such choices, and Eowyn, a woman who has been allowed little. And the unfairness of that is given its full weight.

So there's two sorts of plot arcs going on with Eowyn. Two messages that can be found in her story. One is that life, hope and peace is to be preferred over war and "glorious heroic deaths", and the other is that the restrictions of sexism on women are cages, soul crushing and likely to push a person to the brink of despair, and that a woman can be as capable as a man; not only in her patriarchally approved role as "carer and keeper of the house", but as a warrior and a fighter as well, and that her individual skills; "I can ride and wield blade", matter more than her gender.

The climax of the latter comes when she fights; alongside Merry, another figure overlooked and dismissed as a warrior, and proves crucial to the heroes' victory, underscored by her triumphant proclamation that she is "no man", completely undermining any claim that war is for men and men alone.

The climax of the former comes about when Eowyn is in the House of Healing, and finds new hope in life and wishes to take on a role in society that brings hope and new life to others. That she makes a decision to be a healer also helps avert any "stay in the kitchen" overtones. She is basically making a career choice, which will give her an active role in society. It will give her a chance to be out and doing things and being proactive, instead of being cloistered within the house, waiting to burn. It is a role that will make her many things to many people, and give variety to her life.

She isn't ending the series as "Faramir's wife" and nothing else. She has made a life choice for herself, which gives her an identity of her own, whereas before she was Theoden's niece, Eomer's sister, the White Lady of Rohan, forever trapped indoors. Instead she is wife of Faramir, Princess of Ithilien, as well as a healer, with a profession in her own right, as well as her husband's consort. Her and Faramir's mutual love supports her and encourages her, as love should do, and one of the things it inspires her to do is to follow this career path and this goal of helping others. Faramir's love helps her, it doesn't consume her.

That's also why it's healthier than her romantic attraction for Aragorn, as when she fell for Aragorn she was putting her final hopes for herself and her future in him, and when she felt rejected she was lost to despair. Whereas with Faramir, their love for each other brings Eowyn enough hope that she can start building a full and satisfying life for herself. One where she has a home and a husband she adores, as well as work and a purpose and control and action. Faramir's love is one of the things that defines her, but it isn't the only thing. She goes from someone with a singular wish, be loved by Aragorn or die with honour, to someone with multiple things to live for, multiple interests and goals to pursue.

And she achieves that life by taking control of her life and defying sexism, breaking out of her cage.

Far from her story about choosing peace and life over war and death being at odds with her story about defying sexism to perform heroics, her choice to pursue peace and life wouldn't have come about, had she not broken free from the hutch that sexism had her trapped in and caused her so much despair in the first place.

#LOTR #Lord of the Rings #Eowyn #Faramir #Faramir-x-Eowyn #Eowyn-x-Faramir

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sansaorgana · 1 year

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— HAVING CHILDREN WITH PRINCE AEMOND TARGARYEN (HEADCANONS)

PAIRING — Prince Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I was discussing with my friend what kind of father Aemond would be and then I thought “hey, actually, I have to write headcanons like that”, so here we are. Recently I can’t stop writing for this man, I swear to Gods. 🙈🙉

WORD COUNT — 1,890

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

• Aemond was still very young, so he was a bit scared at first. He knew that marrying you for political reasons had been his duty and that having children with you was a part of that. In fact, he didn’t intend to complain about having to fulfill his duties because he was willing to serve his family and his country this way – just like his mother always had. To be honest, he was kind of excited about the idea of having children. It was just that fear that he might be too young and too unprepared that was sometimes taking the joy out of him.

• He didn’t want to be like his father in any way and he had always been treating you with nothing but respect and gentleness that seemed to be so unlike him. However, the moment he found out you would be his betrothed, he became very protective and soft around you and you were grateful for that.

• When you got pregnant, he smiled at you and nodded his head before putting one of his hands on your abdomen. “That is good news, my lady,” he only said but that was enough for you. To be honest, you were prepared for a man not even half as good as Prince Aemond was to you.

• Most of your pregnancy you spent with Queen Alicent and Princess Helaena but Aemond was often checking on you to make sure you were alright and if you needed anything, he would be the first one to get it for you.

• One time his heart froze in his chest when he saw you hurrying to him while he was at the training grounds. He was sure that something bad had to happen and he watched with terror as you were approaching him. Only while you were finally standing face-to-face, he noticed a big grin on your face. “Feel it, my Prince,” you put his hand on your bump. “The baby’s kicking,” you announced and he sighed with relief before giving you a smile so wide and sincere like you had never seen him smiling before. And in that moment you knew that he would be the best father for your child that you could wish for.

• The thing you feared the most was giving birth. You were young as well and you didn’t want to die yet. At the end of your pregnancy, you were spending most of the time in bed and Aemond was visiting you twice a day. Most of the time you were sitting there in silence since he had never been a man of many words. But sometimes you would vent to him about your fears and anxieties. “Maybe it is greedy of me, I know that my duty is to give you a child. A son. And nothing else matters, not really. Because even my duty to teach him can be easily taken over by the maesters and septas. However, I wish I was granted some time with my child. I wish I was granted to hold him, kiss him, show him the world, hold his hand, hear him laugh. If I die giving birth, I will never experience that,” you confessed the other day and Aemond froze for a second. “That is not greedy, my Lady,” he assured you as he squeezed your hand. “And I want to assure you that I will do whatever it takes for you to come out of it alive.”

• Thankfully, the labor went quite smoothly with only a few minor complications that were easily dealt with. And you were soon holding your newborn baby in your arms. A daughter.

• Her hair was very light on her tiny head and it was silver. You pressed her closer to your chest and took a deep breath in. You were proud of yourself and you loved your baby girl but you were also quite anxious about Aemond’s reaction. You knew that most men wanted boys.

• Aemond was already blaming himself that he hadn’t been brave enough to be with you during childbirth. That he had left you alone just like his father had always been leaving his mother, just like Aegon had left Helaena. So when he opened the door to your chambers and saw you on the bed, all sweaty and exhausted, with a little baby in your arms, he froze at first to stare at you in awe. And then he hurried to your side.

• “It’s a girl, Aemond,” you handed her to him when he sat on the edge of the bed. He looked like he was too scared to touch her but he held the child anyway and rocked her carefully in his arms. “She’s got your hair,” you pointed out.

• “The Targaryen blood is strong,” Aemond smiled very subtly.

• “Don’t you wish she was a boy?” you swallowed thickly while asking the question.

• “No,” was all he said, staring at the baby girl with the most loving expression you had ever witnessed on his face. You held his hand and smiled to yourself. You didn’t need him to say anything more.

• “How do you want to name her?” you asked because you knew that he would want to give her some Valyrian name and you weren’t familiar with them. However, you wanted to propose something yourself to show him how much of a Targaryen you now were as well. “How about Visenya? To honor Vhagar’s most famous dragonrider?”

• “No,” Aemond shook his head, his eye still focused on the baby girl. “Visenya was a warrior. I don’t want to name my daughter after her. Let’s name her something new. Daenerys?” he proposed and you looked at the girl with a smile.

• “Sounds perfect,” you caressed his hand.

• At first, Aemond mostly watched you and the baby. He watched you laying in bed with her for the first few weeks. He watched Daenerys sleeping on your chest peacefully. He watched you feeding her and he admired the fact that you decided to do it yourself instead of hiring someone like most ladies did. You were coming from a mother who had always kept her children close and you wanted to be like her. You wanted to spend all the time with your daughter and to build a strong relationship between you two. While her father watched and only occasionally carried her around the chamber while staring at her in awe.

• When Daenerys was becoming bigger, it was hard to only watch when she was extending her hands towards him or crawling on the carpet to tug on his clothes. Aemond would sit his daughter on his lap and watch her with fascination as she was giggling at him and catching the strands of his silver hair in her little fist. After a few moments like that she would often fall asleep on his lap with her cheek pressed to his chest and he was placing a hand on her back to keep her secure. It became his favorite activity in the evening to sit in front of the fireplace with his little girl napping on him like that.

• Aemond didn’t know much about showing affection so when Daenerys started to give him hugs and kisses on the cheek, he was quite petrified at first. After watching you for some time and seeing you interacting with the girl, he began to copy you – he started to tickle his daughter a little and kiss her forehead like you would always do.

• He also began to teach her how to talk – especially High Valyrian – and he was telling her stories about history and geography while showing her the maps. Daenerys was fascinated by those classes and she was treating them like fairy tales that were feeding her imagination.

• When you became pregnant again, Aemond wasn’t scared that much this time and he already knew what you would need and when. He was also more often spending time with you than when you had been pregnant with Daenerys. However, your fear of the labor came back and you could see that he was stressed, too. After all, he would become a single dad if anything happened to you.

• The second birth didn’t go as smoothly but in the end everyone was healthy and that mattered the most. You gave birth to a boy and his father named him Aerys. To everyone’s surprise, the boy inherited your hair color.

• Aemond didn’t even mention that at first, too happy and proud of his son. When you asked him about it, he only told you that “it is a blessing when boys are as beautiful as their mothers.”

• This time around he knew much better how to take care of a newborn baby and then a toddler. He was trying to help you more with the baby and Daenerys was following him around like a puppy since you had been spending most days in bed for some time after birth. It was quite a funny sight – Aemond was as stoic and observing as always, brooding even, meanwhile she was a ray of sunshine skipping alongside him and talking to him about girly nonsense. He would rarely engage in those conversations but he was smiling from time to time at her.

• And that would be the essence of Aemond as a father. He isn’t absent – in fact, his children are clinging to him and he is surrounded by them almost everywhere. He also often teaches them himself instead of maesters or septas. He trains Aerys with a sword and reads history books to Daenerys who sits next to him and tries to embroider. At the same time, he isn’t as affectionate as some parents because he simply doesn’t know how to be. He holds his children’s hands and when they need a hug, he is the first one to give it to them but he is not the one for piggyback rides, silly jokes or ruffling hair. Aemond isn’t very talkative either and most of the time he only listens and observes but your children don’t mind that at all. After all, this is all they have been knowing with him anyway. They adore their dad just the way he is and look up to him in many ways.

• Just like his quiet and a bit odd nature is nothing unusual for your children, the same you could say about his scar. Aerys and Daenerys are used to seeing their father without an eye patch and they weren’t even asking many questions about it once they finally realized it was not normal for most men to lack an eye. Aemond is grateful for having his little family he can be comfortable with, so he doesn’t have to wear the eye patch all the time and no one around is looking at him the wrong way.

• He doesn’t talk often about his emotions but his children are the blessing he had never been expecting to happen to him. Without him having to say anything, you can see that Aemond’s relationship with your children is a healing process for him as they are helping him to accept his painful past and move forward.

MASTERLIST

#aemond targaryen x reader #lilysfiction

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dalishious · 3 years

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The Circle of Magi is a Cult

(NOTE: I would like to sincerely apologize to my followers - this should have been posted publicly like two months ago. I genuinely thought I do so, but apparently not. But at least I caught it now!)

I admittedly do not always pay close attention when my character is talking to Wynne, as I find her preachiness often boring to listen to. However, I recently found myself snapped to attention over her explanation for how she went from, in her own words, a girl who “hated her life and herself”, to living happily in Kinloch Hold:

“The revered mother came out and decided to speak to me. And because I had no one else to talk to, I talked to her. I must have said many silly things... But she told me that the Maker puts us all on our paths for a reason, and fighting our intended course is what causes so much anguish. ... She taught me that you can find your family in the people around you, that you can love your work and find fulfillment in duty. And there is joy even in self-sacrifice; if you put others before yourself, then their well-being is yours, and their happiness is your happiness.”

This struck me with how unhealthy it sounded. The game even gives you the dialogue option of telling Wynne that sounds unhealthy, but she rebuts that as a Grey Warden, you have no right to judge. But this only made me think about how unfair the comparison between the Grey Wardens and the Circle of Magi is, given the extreme differences in even the most basic levels of freedom between both factions… which then only made Wynne’s comments all the worse sounding.

It was at this point that it truly dawned on me that a great deal of the Circle’s problems revolve around the fact that the Circle of Magi in Southern Thedas is a cult. The BITE Model of Authoritarian Control, developed by undue influence expert Steven Hassan, is an outline of how cults build and maintain control over people. Applying this real life BITE Model to this fictional organization shows just how elaborately crafted a cult it is; probably one of the most developed in all of the fantasy genre.

Not every single point in the BITE Model applies of course, but enough to justify calling the Circle a cult. Here are all the points that apply, and how they apply.

Behaviour Control

2. Dictate where, how, and with whom the member lives and associates or isolates

By Chantry law, identified mages are required to live in a Circle under its supervision, where they are almost entirely isolated from the outside world. Exception status may be granted to mages who serve nobility (i.e. Wilhelm, Vivienne), or the rare mage awarded public favour for extraordinary acts of heroism (i.e. mage Hawke), but these exceptions are far and few between.

Intimate relationships between mages are discouraged, so not to distract from loyalty to the Circle.

3. When, how and with whom the member has sex

Emile de Launcet tells Hawke that he has never had sex, not because of any choice of abstinence on his part, but because he has spent almost his whole life in Kirkwall’s Circle. He was denied the freedom to have sexual intimacy.

4. Control types of clothing and hairstyles

Circle mages do not wear regular clothing. While one might argue that mage robes are enchanted to help with casting ability and therefore provide practical use, circle mages are made to wear them even outside of practicing magic. Mages are presented with robes that correlate with their rank, and are meant to “protect one’s modesty”.

5. Regulate diet – food and drink, hunger and/or fasting

Emile de Launcet also tells Hawke that because he has been in the Circle since he was six years old, he has never even learned how to prepare a meal on his own. The Chantry controls the food provided to mages entirely. Because of this, it is withheld as punishment; in Asunder, Rhys was denied food and water for four days.

10. Permission required for major decisions

Mages require permission from the First Enchanter and Knight Commander just to step outside the Circle. Even the First Enchanters themselves cannot leave without the Knight Commander’s permission.

Anders cynically jokes that being a mage, “it’s like you need permission to be alive.”

14. Punish disobedience by beating, torture, burning, cutting, rape, or tattooing/branding 16. Force individual to rape or be raped 17. Encourage and engage in corporal punishment 20. Beating 21. Torture 22. Rape

The Circles make use of a variety of torture techniques as punishment for disobedience, ranging from long-lasting solitary confinement to outright use of medieval torture devices. These devices are found in the Gallows.

Mages are beaten for minor offences. Alain will tell Hawke that the templars beat them, and Thrask backs this up by saying the same, as well as that they are starved. In the White Spire, it is a common sight to see mages sporting bruises as well.

Along with beatings, mages are also whipped for minor offences. A mage NPC in the Gallows tells Hawke, “The templars will give me thirty lashes for speaking to a civilian.” An NPC who tried to hide her escaped mage cousin says, “Wh-what crime is feeding my cousin? She was whipped, half-starving.”

Anders mentions that the templars of Kinloch Hold beat and rape the mages there. Alain says, “Ser Karras said if I tell anyone he's been in my chambers, he'll make me Tranquil.” In the quest Dissent, Hawke almost witnesses this with Ser Alrik preying on a young mage girl, Ella. Alrik says that once she is Tranquil, she won’t be able to tell him “no”.

15. Threaten harm to family and friends

Anders shares from personal experience that the templars tell the family of mages that they will be thrown in prison if they ever ask about their child. He also mentions that the Kirkwall templars go on “midnight raids on mages’ families”—by Act 3, this has advanced to “templar death squads” outright attacking family members of mages in the streets.

18. Instill dependency and obedience

By denying mages who have been in the Circle since childhood the freedom to cook for themselves, clean for themselves, collect wealth for themselves, so much as existunchaperoned, the Chantry creates a dependency on the Circle. As Anders says of Emile, “He's lived in the Circle all his life. He can't function in the real world.”

19. Kidnapping 23. Separation of Families

Mage children are literally kidnapped from their families by the templars, upon being discovered to have magic. Communication between family members is discouraged with threats, as mentioned above.

24. Imprisonment

The Circles themselves are essentially prisons. Even more confining, mages are often locked in their quarters, as said in Dragon Age II and Asunder.

25. Murder

Mages are murdered by templars regularly and lawfully. There is even the Right of Annulment, giving templars the Chantry authorization to murder every single mage in a Circle. This right has also been used to cover up mass murder already enacted, such as the case was with the annulment of the Antivan Circle in 3:09 Towers.

Information Control

1. Deception: a) Deliberately withhold information b) Distort information to make it more acceptable c) Systematically lie to the cult member

The two biggest cases of mass deception pulled on mages is the Harrowing and the Rite of Tranquility.

Since the creation of the Rite of Tranquility, the Seekers of Truth have been fully aware of its reversal. However, they chose to keep this a secret. All mages believed that Tranquility was irreversible, and when a cure was discovered by re-creating the Seekers process through independent research, they attempted to cover it up.

3. Compartmentalize information into Outsider vs. Insider doctrines b) Control information at different levels and missions within group

Every mage must go through the Harrowing; a test that sends the apprentice mage into the Fade to fight off a demon. Those who fail are killed. Mages are forbidden from sharing information about the Harrowing with apprentices who have yet to take it. The only vague explanation being that this secrecy is “a necessity”. Apprentices are only told of the test when the night comes that they are pulled out of bed to take it.

4. Encourage spying on other members: b) Report deviant thoughts, feelings and actions to leadership c) Ensure that individual behaviour is monitored by group

Mages are under constant scrutiny by templars; there is no such thing as privacy. But even mages themselves are encouraged to our outright ordered to report signs of deviancy to the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter. In Asunder, Rhys and Adrian are threatened with punishment if they do not share information about other mages—information they do not even actually know. In the quest Bound in Blood and Magic, should the PC report Jowan’s intent on escaping the Circle, Irving sends the PC on a quest to assist in setting up a trap.

Worse yet, the Ferelden Circle actively lures apprentices into practising blood magic, for the sole purpose of then seeing they are made Tranquil. Irving justifies this as being ‘for the good of the Circle’ in his journal: “The students think we toy with them. The truth is far more intricate and directed. Deviant traits must be exposed early, or the whole of the Circle suffers.”

Thought Control

1. Require members to internalize the group’s doctrine as truth a) Adopting the group’s ‘map of reality’ as reality b) Instill black and white thinking c) Decide between good vs. evil d) Organize people into us vs. them (insiders vs. outsiders)

Anders says, “In the Circle, they tell you day and night that magic is a sin. A mark on your soul of the Maker's hatred.” This is shown to be heavily internalized by mages like Kelli in Dragon Age Origins, and nameless NPCs found in the Gallows in Dragon Age II speaking of how they are cursed with “demonic influences.”

There is no room for grey in the Circle teachings about spirits/demons, or about forbidden magic like blood magic. Mages are taught that spirits/demons are dangerous beasts no matter what, they are taught that Chantry-determined forbidden magic is evil no matter what, and that mages who consort with spirits or use blood magic are evil no matter what.

One of the biggest defences from Loyalist mages who defend the Circle’s system, is that the outside world is just as much a danger to them as they are to it. They argue that the fear and hatred of mages held by the common folk—conveniently forgetting that this fear and hatred is spread by the Chantry itself—makes it too dangerous for mages to live outside the Circle, because they will be attacked. This “us vs. them” mentality is used to scare mages into submission.

3. Use of loaded language and clichés which constrict knowledge, stop critical thoughts and reduce complexities into platitudinous buzz words.

Select parts of the Chant of Light with a select interpretation are recited regularly by the Templar Order and Chantry brothers and sisters. These verses are used as argument-enders and vague answers without real explaining. The most common example being, “Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him” from the Canticle of Transfigurations 1:2. The way in which phrases like this one are used, without even the full context of the full passage, turns them into hackneyed proverbs of lost significance.

5. Hypnotic techniques are used to alter mental states, undermine critical thinking and even to age regress the member.

In Dragon Age II, if Hawke asks Cullen to be magnanimous to the mages involved in the quest Best Served Cold, back at the Gallows, Cullen tells Hawke “The mages have been confined to their quarters and sedated.” It is unknown what method of sedation is used on the mages exactly, or if it is magical or pharmaceutical in nature. Either way, it is a forced alteration of mental state.

8. Rejection of rational analysis, critical thinking, constructive criticism.

Challenging or even just criticizing the Circle system is highly regarded as “dangerous” seditionist behaviour. Leliana says that the Chantry only tolerated the Libertarian fraternity’s wishes to change things in appearance only. This is further evidenced by the Templar Order’s declaration of war when the Libertarians did actually win the vote to separate, at the end of Asunder.

10. Labelling alternative belief systems as illegitimate, evil, or not useful.

The Chantry refers to cultures with admiration for and free use of magic, ones that do not lock up their mages as prisoners, as “uncivilized” and/or “evil” in order to delegitimize the evidence against their fearmongering, untruthful control methods. The Rivaini, the Dalish, and the Avvar are referred to as dangerous and backwards, while all of the issues in Tevinter are blamed on its freedom of mages, rather than capitalist oppression. (I.e. the same capitalist oppression that exists in Orlais, comparatively speaking.)

Emotional Control

1. Manipulate and narrow the range of feelings – some emotions and/or needs are deemed as evil, wrong or selfish. 2. Teach emotion-stopping techniques to block feelings of homesickness, anger, doubt.

The Chantry very literally controls feelings through the Rite of Tranquility; halting a mage’s ability to feel anything at all. The rite is regularly used as punishment, and on mages deemed “too dangerous”. When Pharamond cured himself of tranquility, he was immediately ordered to be made tranquil again, because he was deemed “too emotional”.

3. Make the person feel that problems are always their own fault, never the leader’s or the group’s fault.

Victim-blaming is a common defence for the measures against mages by templars and Chantry apologists. The idea that it is always the fault of the mages that the templars are “forced” to act strictly has been recited repeatedly by characters, like for example, Cullen: “It will be up to the mages themselves whether they push us to more stringent measures.” Meredith, Cassandra, and others minor NPCs echo this notion. Even the Mage-Templar Conflict is referred to as the “Mage Rebellion,” despite it being the Templars that first declared war in Asunder.

4. Promote feelings of guilt or unworthiness, such as: a) Identity guilt

Mages are constantly told that their existence is a sin, and that they are not even truly people deserving of being treated as such. Literally, as Cullen says: “Mages cannot be treated like people. They are not like you and me.”

To reiterate one of Anders’ most chilling quotes again: “In the Circle, they tell you day and night that magic is a sin. A mark on your soul of the Maker's hatred.”

5. Instill fear, such as fear of: b) The outside world

The Chantry cultivates a fear of magic in the general population, and then on the opposite end, cultivates a fear of that general population’s fear in mages. Supports of the Circles are quick to say that it is the only place “safe” for mages, because of this fear. The Chantry makes the Circle appear safe only by making the outside world appear worse in comparison.

6. Ritualistic and sometimes public confession of sins

This one is debatable whether it is canon or not, as it is shown in the IDW published Dragon Age comics. BioWare has no official stance, while Gaider has said it’s up to fans to decide. With that said, in the comic, when a pregnant mage named Veness refuses to say who the father is—a templar—she is taken before every male mage in the Circle, and a “proximity spell” is used to try and determine the father. There is no actual purpose for this, since the Chantry plans on taking the child anyway; the only reason is to force the truth of Veness’ private affairs, and humiliate her for becoming pregnant.

8. Phobia indoctrination: inculcating irrational fears about leaving the group or questioning the leader’s authority b) Terrible consequences if you leave: hell, demon possession, incurable diseases, accidents, suicide, insanity, 10,000 reincarnations, etc. e) Threats of harm to ex-member and family

The Chantry brands every mage outside the Circle as an apostate, and brands every apostate as most likely to be a maleificar (someone who practices forbidden magic) and/or abomination (someone possessed). This is another reason why mages fear leaving the Circle; they do not want to become what they are taught is evil.

Mages who do flee the Circle face the very real threat of death or tranquility if caught. And again, there is more than just threats to family; the templars in Kirkwall actively raided their homes and assaulted them.

In Conclusion

A cult uses undue influence to keep people dependent, obedient, and loyal. Assessing the Circle using the BITE model above, as if it were real, shows how the Chantry uses undue influence to maintain control over mages in Southern Thedas. Perhaps the Chantry as a whole is not a cult, but the Circle system, as it exists pre-rebellion at least, definitely is.

Sources

Dragon Age: The World of Thedas, vol. 1

Dragon Age: The World of Thedas, vol. 2

Dragon Age: Asunder

Dragon Age (IDW Comic)

Codex entry: Irving's Mistake (DA:O)

Codex entry: The Rite of Tranquility (DA:I)

Item description: Apprentice Robes (DA:O)

Item description: Mage Robes (DA:O)

Item description: Senior Enchanter's Robes (DA:O)

Item description: Magehunter (DA:I)

Quest: The Harrowing (DA:O)

Quest: Bound in Blood and Magic (DA:O)

Quest: A Noble Agenda (DA:2)

Quest: Dissent (DA:2)

Banter between Wynne and Alistair (DA:O)

Banter between Anders and Sebastian (DA:2)

Dialogue with Wynne (DA:O) (DA:O – Awakening)

Dialogue with Anders (DA:O – Awakening) (DA:2)

Dialogue with Irving and Greagoir (DA:O)

Dialogue with Jowan (DA:O)

Dialogue with Emille de Launcet (DA:2)

Dialogue with Orsino (DA:2)

Dialogue with Thrask (DA:2)

Dialogue with Cullen (DA:2)

Dialogue with Leliana (DA:2)

Dialogue with Meredith (DA:2)

Dialogue with Vivienne (DA:I)

Dialogue with Cassandra (DA:I)

Ambient dialogue from Alain (DA:2)

Ambient dialogue from Karras (DA:2)

Ambient dialogue from a scared mage in the Gallows (DA:2)

#dragon age #circle of magi #anti chantry #meta #abuse tw #rapetw

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lightlycareless · 2 years

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First it hurts— Chapter I

Summary:

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: Arranged marriage, you're confused, your family is sad. Other than that, nothing critical.

A/N: Been wanting to write a Naoya fic for a while, after I read most of them on this site and Ao3 😂 I already posted up to chapter 8 in my Ao3 account if you’d like to read the rest, I'll leave the link down below. Without any further ado, I hope you find this enjoyable ❤

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 2.

Ao3 link.

You did not know how to respond to the fact that your father decided to wed you off to an outsider.

While you processed his verdict, your siblings were crushed, and continued to request both a clarification and condemnation of said course of action. Your father reminded them of his power on the household and put them back on their place. It was the final decision, there was no space for additional negotiations.

The whole estate seemed to savor on the news, wanting nothing but to be involved in the preparations for your wedding. A matter that you were associated with, yet had no say or matter.

You began to think this marriage would undoubtedly fail from the very moment your family decided to isolate you from marriage discussions, further confirmed when they banned you from choosing the colors you wanted to see in the venue, the blossoms you wanted in your floral arrangement, or even the wedding kimono you wanted to wear. But as the good girl you were, you remained quiet and prepared yourself to fulfill your duty to the clan.

The proposal had come in as a shock, not on the grounds of you being an unsuitable bride, but because it had come from none other but the Zen’in clan. They had moved onto your dad with promises of riches and prosperity for both clans, if he consented to marry you to the youthful Zen’in heir.

You ambiguously met your future spouse once, many years ago, the most exceptional trademark that remained in your memory was his attractiveness, he was without a doubt one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen, but other than that, you don’t remember any significant interactions that could’ve prompted his advantage towards you. Not any worthwhile anyways.

Arranged marriages weren’t —by any means— uncommon in the jujutsu world, what was extraordinary was for the Zen’in to make the first move.

Traditionally, more modest clans would offer greater clans their daughters in exchange of obtaining protection, riches, power, and the honor of being able to say they were part of whatever faction decided to take them up on their deal.

It was a practice that led clans to do just about anything to remain pertinent to the jujutsu community, and the Zen’in were no strangers to these customs.

Indeed, they took the struggle from the smaller clans as a form of diversion, cruelly playing with the necessities and distress of said clans, implying their proposals might be rejected by the prospect of a superior candidate in another clan, or asking them for a valid reason to entertain them, just to get their egos stroked when they would receive praises and counter offers with a much bigger price, often more than what they genuinely had, just to remain in the good graces of the Zen’in.

After they had their fun, some arrangements would be approved and the daughters would be sent to their doom.

This tradition remained through ages, however, as time went by and the modern era came, the Zen’in began to lose their political control over these issues.

With the absence of an heir born with their prized Ten Shadows technique for some time now, the introduction of Gojo Satoru and banishment of Zen’in Toji, sorcerers started to feel that the Zen’in were not so great as they suspected they were.

The Zen’in were pressured into a corner and now found themselves on the other side of the bargain, however, that didn’t stop them from doing what they had to do to remain relevant.

Nonetheless, the L/N remained as one of the few clans that still respected the Zen’in for what they stood and received Naoya’s proposal with both contentment and relief. The elders took his interest as a confirmation of the L/n staying on their good graces, that they still have something of value worth bargaining for.

They have been waiting for the right moment to redeem your sister’s choice on canceling her engagement with the Gojo heir.

Her actions had placed the elders on a difficult position, believing the reputation of the clan was hanging by a thread if they did not act to settle the matter quickly. Thus, when the Zen’in proposal came in one fateful Monday evening, they were quick to offer their best. And who was the best candidate for the role? You.

When negotiations began, the L/N found themselves very much enjoying the reality of being able to request pretty much anything from the contrary clan. They’ve perceived how desperate the young heir was getting by each passing day, and took it as the moment to push their luck further and get out as much benefits as they could.

Perhaps the Zen’in and the L/N weren’t as different as they suspected.

“What reassurance do you give me that your daughter will be a reasonable wife for my son?” Naobito asked, he was stranger to Naoya’s intention behind his insistence in getting your hand in marriage, but after a few persuading words regarding your ability to conceive powerful heirs, he recognized his desire and moved forward with the negotiations.

In any case —outside of pregnancy talk— he had to be certain that whatever poor woman that will undoubtedly to marry his son would be a good match. To be a Zen’in wife implied more than just being able to securely convey children, she needed to have a good amount of curse energy, know how to entertain both her husband and guests, tend to the house and remain accommodating to whatever other demands her spouse might have. That was the definition of a proper woman, at least for the Zen’in.

“She has a suitable amount of cursed energy to carry powerful children into your clan, and although she has been trained on it, she has no desire on becoming a sorcerer, if that’s your concern” Your father responded for the nth time, having recited these words over and over again in previous occasions, for this was not the first time Naobito had voice this inquiry. Your dad lingered on the thought that perhaps there was something else bothering him. “Is there something you don’t like about my daughter?”

“Your other daughter” The Zen’in leader spoke “I’ve seen her, how you let her be a sorcerer and how she invests wholeheartedly on it. Speaking up when it doesn’t concern her, involving herself in matters where she has no say. I dread she might’ve had influenced your daughter enough to affect the marriage she’ll have with my son, assuming you agree to it”

“That’s only my eldest daughter. My youngest has been prepared for the reason to be offered to the best suitor, she has been taught to be a functional wife, to never speak unless spoken to, to serve and submit to her husband, to always walk behind him. Although how many steps behind? That’ll be for you to decide. She’ll be an excellent wife and mother, one that I will know your son will undoubtedly enjoy”

“For your sake, I hope so”

It only took a few more meetings between the two clan leaders to seal your destiny and announce your marriage to Naoya Zen’in. The servants rushed to spread rumors about the outcome of the negotiations, but the truth only surfaced when your father approached you in your chambers in the middle of the evening.

The wedding was to occur at the year’s end. Barely enough time for the preparations to unfurl.

Days transformed into weeks, and weeks into months until the wedding finally arrived.

Cousins, uncles, servants and servers alike seemed to savor on your celebration. However, when the photographers approached you to snap a memoir to honor in the future, your harsh reality was projected into the picture: you were unhappy.

Everyone was smiling but you.

You opposed to marrying a stranger without getting to know him first, less to be sent away and live with him for the remainder of your life. You’ve heard awful things of the young Zen’in heir —via your sister— things that positively affirmed he would be a horrendous, awful husband to your persona, it kept you figuring how can a person this wretched exist?

Yet, these weren’t subjects that you could voice your perspective on, regardless of whether beloved sister fought tooth and nail to prevent the marriage, eve going as far to offer herself as Naoya’s new bride, but it was all for naught for Naoya was determined on making you his wife —by obscure reasons— and whatever options of a reconsideration for other women were quickly excused. You remained voiceless.

As the attendees arrived and their eyes scanned the venue with interest, they couldn’t reject that your wedding would have to be one of the most costly and classy of the season.

From the venue, to the decorations, colors and floral arrangements, and lastly, your beautiful wedding kimono, it was verifiable that your clan had impeccable taste. The L/N’s would’ve gone for a more modern approach, if weren’t for the Zen’in remaining deeply rooted in their outdated traditions.

The venue had managed to leave everyone in a state of wonder at the notion of how rich your family was, but it wasn’t until you finally appeared that everyone became speechless.

The bride shyly stood at the end of the aisle, with her delightful shiromuki, face graced with delicate yet feminine makeup, and hair meticulously done to enhance her features. You were grateful for the veil that covered your shocked face, for you anticipated a much modest occasion, maybe a couple of close members of the family attending the celebration, rather you were received with thousands of eyes eagerly gazing at your figure.

While you stood there, your brain going a mile per second, questioning yourself if you looked presentable at your wedding, the guests thought the exact opposite.

You were the most wonderful lady in the room.

Some women were envious of your predicament: a lovely young lady marrying a successful rich heir of a powerful clan. Just not any clan though, the Zen’in’s, members of what the jujutsu community called the Big Three. These women knew that, even if it was arranged and perhaps unwilling on your side, your life was diving unto luxury. From this exact second forward, you won’t ever need to stress about a roof over your head, food on your table, or clothes to bare. They couldn’t muster the energy to care for the rumors surrounding the young heir, if it meant they had that lifestyle set for their rest of their lives.

Other were emotional from seeing their beloved relative finally leaving the nest. The image of you in your youth still fresh in their mind’s eyes, wanting nothing but to pluck you from the celebration and take you home to dote on you. They were practical on their desires and knew it was nothing else but nostalgia speaking, but they couldn’t help feeling pitiful at your fast approaching growth.

And keeping their mind that their thoughts varied from guest to guest, there was one consistent thought that kept everyone intrigued: how did Naoya persuade your father to allow this union, with his awful character and terrible rumors surrounding him? Your dad was the essence of justice and morality, while you were the epitome of innocence and virtue, one that was bound to be destroyed once in Naoya’s clutches. Had they not known better, they would think your dad was forced into this agreement.

At the end of the day, none of the guests had a say on this celebration, and all they could do is see you as you walked down the aisle alongside your dad.

You tightly held your father’s arm as you two began to walk towards the front of the venue. He consoled you that everything would be fine, regardless of the outcome, yet his words never really quieted your ever-growing uneasiness.

Your eyes set down to the floor for various moments while you endeavored to calm the nerves that were threatening to stop your movements. These only intensified when you were getting alarmingly close to the stranger husband-to-be that was waiting for you at the end of the aisle, his lips pursed into a smile of satisfaction, one that went unnoticed to you but all too obvious for your father which hummed in displeasure.

The bride had not been able to see her future husband during the weeks of negotiations that occurred in her estate, his presence only confirmed when the servants announced his arrival and their comments on how lucky she was to have such a handsome young man interested in marrying her.

Your memory was consistent, he remained handsome.

At the point when you were a couple of steps away from Naoya, the reality of your marriage to him seemed to hit you with a crushing weight, and your mind started to ponder back to the rumors you’ve heard around the estate:

He would treat your servants awfully once your father —or any other members he deemed important — was out of earshot. He would demean and yell at them, affront their capabilities and remind them of his superiority, but pull of this façade of proper gentleman once accompanied.

You were never able to confirm nor deny these accusations, for when you managed to pull a servant away to interrogate them about Naoya, they simply pushed your worries away as that, rumors.

You wanted to seek the truth with your sister and brother, their reactions forced you to take their words with a grain of salt since they were always opposed to your relationships, regardless if it was Naoya or not.

Hope became your confidant when it came to these matters. You would pray to the gods that those whispers remained what they were: whispers.

Once alongside him, you excused your father and was left alone with your husband-to-be. Your loneliness helped as a reminder of your current state: a trembling mess. Your hands were sweaty and you were biting your lip ever so softly as to not demolish the makeup your maidens had delicately placed on your face. Your hair was kept up in a way that no matter how much you moved, it would not fall. Not even the flowers that were intricately placed to highlight your silky locks and veil covering your features as to keep mystery to your beauty from your husband, in spite of the fact that he could still see what was underneath.

With your throat feeling constricted thanks to your nerves being all over the place, you began to worry you might not be able to say your vows, and your family —alongside his— would chastise you for not being able to keep up with what was rehearsed and taking it as a rejection to the union from your part. Your eyes were glued to the floor, unable to look up to your future husband out of anxiety, and while your mind was going a thousand miles per hour, there was a reliable thought that perhaps your husband didn’t mind, and maybe…. just maybe, was feeling the same way.

Before your brain could marvel into another thought, your maidens were quick to approach you: a motion that implied it was time to reveal your face to your husband. You wanted them to stop and give you a few seconds to catch your breath and look as presentable as possible to the man before you, worrying that your heated cheeks would make you look comical instead of alluring, but as the closest maiden to you placed her hands on the veil and began to lift it, you know it was time to confront the man that would become your partner for the rest of each other’s lives.

For when the veil was finally lifted, it was Naoya’s time to become astounded.

No picture or memory contrasted to having you standing before him, being able to see your lovely face, shiny eyes and reddened cheeks in person made all the trials he had gone through just to get your hand in marriage worth it.

He couldn’t remove his gaze from face, and by each passing second of basking in your exquisiteness, he had become totally persuaded that he had made the right decision. Naoya had no ounce of regret of pulling the strings he had to pull just to have you here, right now, in this moment. He shamelessly smirked in approval of his very anxious bride, and your shy reaction sent a jolt desire to his spine.

But he couldn’t get eager, for he first had to say his vows before he could strip you of the wretched clothes that came between his wondering hands and your body to mark you as his.

Naobito would not lament allowing this marriage to happen. Naoya would prove that marrying you was the best investment the leader could’ve ever made in his lifetime, for your clan’s background and academic marks were proof that you were an exceptional woman. One fitted to be wife of the Zen’in heir.

Your husband’s musings were swiftly hindered when the priest appeared before them and greeted them alongside the crowd, initiating the long-awaited ceremony that connoted the start of something beautiful, a union between two powerful clans, a ceremony that would certainly remain in everyone’s memory for years to come.

When the couple’s respective time to say their vows came and properly continued, the priest gave clearance to your husband in the action he had longed to do throughout the whole ceremony.

Naoya’s eyes were filled with eagerness upon hearing those words, a glint covered his golden eyes with a shade of desire you’ve never seen. You remained speechless as your eyes extended at his actions. He ventured forward and a wider smirk appeared on his lips as he pulled you into his arms, roughly pressing his lips against your delicate ones.

Your now husband closed his eyes upon the contact and pushed forward into your body, a sight that made many murmur in approval, for they were being graced with a delightful portrayal of his longing for you.

Your orbs remained open with distress at his action, yet, your lips reluctantly began to move against his, your inexperience showing through the struggle to keep up with his movements, something that enticed Naoya instead of alarming him.

Something deep inside you irked you to continue that kiss and reciprocate his passion, you couldn’t put your finger on it, perhaps it was the silent attraction between the two or the responsibility to entertain the approving crowd, either way, you could not deny that the kiss was feeding you a toxicity, an addiction that you began to wish he would grace you again with once he separated his lips from yours.

Naoya’s eyes trailed down to your arms and held your hand in a soft matter, prompting you to turn around and face the crowd.

Everyone cheered at the newly wedded couple and you couldn’t help but to glance at your husband who was smiling proudly at the guests. Incited by his actions, you looked back to the crowd and grinned as well. The two began to stroll down the aisle, now as husband and wife, to move unto the next step of the celebration.

Your eyes darted through the many faces of the crowd until you found your beloved family. Your sister and brother standing alongside your father. You don’t know what moved you to seek their endorsement —perhaps riding the wave of approval from the crowd and the ignited flame of attraction to your husband— your lips couldn’t stop from shifting into a wider grin that reflected this newfound joy for your marriage, but as you stared at them awaiting similar feedback, they reacted with one that reflected a premonition for your future:

Sadness.

Thus, in the fall of 2010, Y/N L/N and Naoya Zen’in were married.

#naoya zen'in x reader #naoya zenin x you #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk naoya #series: first it hurts—

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xlbrh · 3 years

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Genshin Impact - Small things they do to show their love

notes : so i’ve been trying to think of an idea for a long story to write for one of the characters, but i’ve been having a little bit of trouble :( if anyone has any suggestions i’d love to hear them! hopefully i’ll be able to come out with an introduction or something soon

in the meantime i wrote this up, so i hope that you guys enjoy!

Genshin Masterlist

warnings : none

format : bulleted, headcanons. fluff

pairings : diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, xiao, albedo, aether x gn! reader

word count : 1426

everything under the cut-

Diluc:

during your nightly walks around mondstadt, he notices how chills can rack your body, especially when the wind blows

he’ll remove his jacket and drape it around your form, no matter how much you may protest

sometimes his arms will circle around your waist, drawing you towards him in an effort toto keep you warm until you get home

if you’ve been out adventuring close to the dawn winery, he’d invite you to the manor to share a meal or drink, whichever you’d like

whatever you desire, he’ll see to it that you receive it – most of the time he wouldn’t even ask you due to how well he can read you and your actions

when you try to refuse his offers, he’ll tell you ‘just let me look after you, my love’

when you come to visit him in the angel’s share, he always has a seat ready just for you

he’ll keep a blanket and some books under the bar, since he knows how you like to curl up in the corner, engrossed in your reading

if you’d like he’ll come and sit with you for a short while, bringing a drink of your choice over while you tell each other about your day

Kaeya:

kaeya is the kind of man to call you every pet name under the sun

whether it be sweetheart, darling, love etc. he loves to use these types of names for you frequently, as a form of affection

he loves your reactions to them, especially when your cheeks flare up and you turn away out of shyness – he finds it extremely endearing

he would offer to train you in swordsmanship, regardless of whether you can already wield a sword or not

he likes to not only see your strength grow, but also offer you a way to protect yourself since he cannot be with you at all times

kaeya takes pride in the training sessions you have, after all they give him another reason to spend even more time with you

he loves for you guys to have matching things, no matter how small they may be

for example, he’ll buy you a bracelet to wear, one that matches with one on his own wrist as well

jokingly he once bought you an eyepatch to match his, but he finds it sweet but hilarious when you’ll wear it around him sometimes

Childe:

since this man is a literal walking wallet, he has no problem with spoiling you with gifts

whether that be a necklace you’ve had your eye on, a new shirt because you ripped yours in battle, or a book he knows is the next in the series you enjoy

when asking him why he leaves you so many small gifts, his response is just ‘well, because i love you, of course!’

if you ever get hurt during a battle, he’ll be the first to help you

whether that be taking down the enemies if you haven’t already, or tending to the wounds you’ve received

he’d work with utmost caution, wrapping each wound gently and finishing them off with a kiss on top

when strolling the streets of liyue together, childe ensures that your body is connected to his one way or another at all times

whether that be intertwining your hands together, an arm loosely wrapped around your waist, or stopping to give you a brief peck on the forehead

he has no qualms in showing the public that you’re his – something he makes you well aware of

Zhongli:

he knows you love when he tells you stories of his past and the history of liyue, and he enjoys telling you about them

he finds the childlike wonder in your eyes adorable as he tells you tales of adepti and archons alike

zhongli will try his best to make them as entertaining as possible for you – drawing you in with every word he uttered

he likes to play with your hair, and for you to do the same to him

if you have longer hair you can guarantee he’d be braiding and styling your hair in all different ways, adorning it with hairpins he’d purchase for you

if your hair is on the shorter side then he’d love to run his fingers through, stroking your hair and massaging your scalp until you fall asleep with your head against his chest

if there is anything in particular that you take a big interest in, zhongli will try his best to research around it – even though he probably has the knowledge anyways

he wants to be able to talk to you about things you’re interested in, as well as share in the enjoyment that you get from it

he would leave small notes to you when he can’t always be around you, sometimes with small facts he learned of

Xiao:

he would for sure watch over you if you ever go on a long adventure, no matter what other duties he may have to attend to

expect to see a good few hilichurl and treasure hoarder camps abandoned thanks to his interference

‘anything to ensure your safety’, he thinks

some nights, when his duties have been fulfilled early, he’ll try his hand at preparing a meal for you to share

of course nothing especially fancy! After all he doesn’t have to eat himself – its all for your enjoyment

if he struggles he’d probably reach out to verr goldet some help

just imagine him setting a small picnic up on the wangshu inn rooftop iM WEAK

once xiao finally becomes accustomed to physical contact, he’d make an effort to hold your hand a lot more often

lightly squeezing it or tracing shapes with his thumb every now and again

if you’re lucky he way even take his gloves off – just to feel that warmth from his hand can be very comforting indeed

Albedo:

you’re literally the only person he will listen to when he is engrossed in his experiments

as we know he tends to block out the rest of the world when he is deep in though

but as soon as he hears your voice of concern asking if he’ll take a break to eat, you wanna bet he’ll be leaving his office in an instant to join you for lunch

he does the exact same for you when you’re hard at work, so he appreciates the way you always look after him

when out looking for more specimens to analyse, he stumbles across his fair share of flowers

of course he knows which are your favourites – he knows everything about you, after all – so he’ll be sure to pick some to bring home to you

when giving them to you, he mentions ‘well, they reminded me of you, so i thought you’d like them’

if you ever get ill for some reason, albedo becomes your personal doctor

he’ll spend hours preparing serums and medicines for you to alleviate your pain – but will never let you out of his sight while doing so

he’ll ask noelle if she can fix up some food for you in the meantime, since at every free opportunity he’s sat at your bedside, hand in yours as he whispers words of comfort to you

Aether:

aether is always ready to make you something to eat whenever you’d like!

he for sure has a small section of his brain dedicated to learning of recipes that he knows you enjoy, no matter how simple or complicated they may be

will make sure that you always have some lunch ready to take with you wherever you go, even if it means he had to wake up early and travel halfway across teyvat to bring it to you

he will bring you back numerous treasures from his travels

sometimes he’ll ask the locals in whichever area he’s in if they can craft the raw materials into something that you can treasure

there would be a shelf in your room specifically for aether’s gifts, where he’ll occasionally point to each one and tell you the story of how it made it’s way back to you

he makes sure to let you know how grateful he is to have you by his side

every time you do something for him, no matter how small it may be, he’ll thank you and let you know how much you mean to him

when on his travels he makes sure to write letters and send them home to you – just because he’s far away doesn’t mean he’s not still thinking about you

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