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#calamity be upon ye
horseslur · 5 months
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My dealer: got some straight gas this strain is called “Star Stable Online” you’ll be zonked out of your gourd
Me: yeah whatever. I don’t feel shit.
5 minutes later: dude I swear I just saw Garnok
My buddy Anne von Blyssen pacing: The druids are lying to us
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humanbeanisnotamused · 2 months
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currently deriving a great deal of joy out of imagining laerryn fucking around with psychic group chat until her casting range is "fuck you; no one is safe"
one day she stretches it out to 45 feet; another day to 90; and then before you know it you are fully across town and woe, groupchat be upon ye
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legendary-pancakes · 1 year
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the bros-in-arms, the lads, the links who are probably very good with teamwork and strategy
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wondering if i should draw my CATS OC that was absolutely my greatest mary sue of all my entire career. wouldn't that be wild
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We come from different tides, like sunrise and moonlight
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thezoraprince · 1 year
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Flowers - Link x reader
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Title: Flowers - Link x Reader Words : 700+ (701)
y/n - your name
(i like to imagine Link signing, so the dialogue for him is italicized for that reason)
The light flickered through the tree leaves just outside Link’s bedroom window. You opened your eyes to find yourself laying in his bed with his arms loosely wrapped around you. You don’t quite remember how you ended up here, but you smiled, knowing he must have carried you in after you’d already fallen asleep somewhere. He was pretty good at finding you when you did. It was quite common, actually; the soft grass against your skin made it pretty easy to doze off, not to mention the countless times you’d had to make do while traveling. 
Watching Link as he slept was almost like a dream. It was a rarity to see him so… still. You brushed the hair from his eyes and gently stroked his cheek with your thumb. He looked so handsome when he slept. Not to say that he wasn’t already handsome, but with the Calamity finally being over, he just looked so at ease. 
As you lifted up to get out of bed, his grip on you tightened. But, he was still sound asleep, lightly snoring. You giggled softly at him, untangling yourself from him to get up and make yourself some tea.
You headed downstairs and peeked out the kitchen window. There was Bolson and Karson, sitting where they usually sit in the yard. You figured they had just gotten back from visiting with Hudson and Rhondson. You opened the door and walked out to greet them.
“Care for some tea?” you asked.
Bolson smiled at you. “You know I would never turn down morning tea.”
You went back inside to get the kettle and some cups and headed back out. The three of you sat in the grass with your cups of tea, chatting about how beautiful the the flowers are this time of year. They were both pleased to see that you had planted some around the house. 
“What kind of flowers are those, anyway?” Bolson asked.
“I was wondering the same. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before.” Karson added.
You were happy to tell them. “They’re called ‘Silent Princess’.”
They both looked at you with a questioning expression.
“They’re pretty rare, but Link had found quite a few on his journey.” You got up and walked over to the flowers to examine them. “Zelda said that with a little help, she thinks they can be domesticated.”
“Well, they’re very beautiful.” Bolson replied, just before taking another sip of tea.
Karson was more than excited to learn about them. “Maybe we could find and plant some at our place!"
Bolson stood up, cup still in hand. “We’ll see, Karson.” He turned to you with a smile. “Thank you for tea, y/n. You’re always a pleasure to sit and chat with.”
“Yeah!”
You took the tea cups from the both of them. “Thank you. You both are so kind. Feel free to come over for tea anytime.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, as always.”
Bolson and Karson made their way toward the town, Karson waving as they left. You couldn’t help but to smile as they walked away. The both of them were a treat to have around. You went back inside, set the dishes on the counter, and headed back up the stairs to find Link still sleeping. 
Gently, you crawled back into bed and wrapped your arms around him. He rolled over to face you, eyes still closed. His hair was surprisingly messier than it was earlier. You once again went to brush the hair out of his eyes. Link wrinkled his nose and slowly opened his eyes. Upon seeing you, he smiled and pulled you in to cuddle.
“Good afternoon, love.” you whispered.
He looked at you with a cheesy grin. “Hi.”
“You missed out this morning.” You started. “Bolson and Karson were here, and they really like the flowers.” 
“Of course they do.” He yawned.
You giggled at his reply before turning to get out of bed again. Link grabbed your hand quickly, just before you got out of his reach. “Yes?”
“Please stay in bed.”
“Link…”
“I just want to hold you for a little while longer.” He pouted, staring at you with those blue eyes. “Please?”
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Can you do one where male reader has blood that can heal any type of wound and the ghost city people found out about it and hurt him. Male reader is the type of person who can’t say no so he allows them to do it despite how much it hurts. He keeps it a secret from hualian and hides the wounds by covering them up. Hualian gets really worried when they noticed how male reader looks pale and lifeless and asks him what’s going on. He refuses to tell them anything and reassures them that everything is ok. Hualian eventually finds out when they stumbled upon an abandoned temple and see male reader getting his flesh and blood gouged out by the ghost city people. Hualian gets really mad and kills the ghost city people who dare hurt their beloved.
Blood Wounds
Hua Cheng x M!reader x Xie Lian
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Now see here I don't think ghost city residents would EVER hurt Hua Cheng's lovers. Like the adore Hua Cheng and Xie Lian so of course they would adore reader so I'm gonna say that like maybe the visitors of ghost city?
Sorry it took so long
Ignore grammar mistakes
Ignore OOC
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You're a pretty unique person.
Xie Lian is a god, Hua Cheng's a calamity and your blood heals anything
It doesn't matter what the wound is: how deep, shallow, how major, or minor, scrapes, burns, gashes, stab wounds, amputation, or close to death.
You can heal anything
Your name spread pretty fast among the three realms.
And you love to help people! That's what you were made for after all, because you're kind.
But sometimes you're too kind, sometimes you help too many people.
A lot of people try to find you, a lot of people ask for your blood.
Humans, ghosts, gods. It doesn't matter they all want some from you.
Especially the ones who come to visit in Hua Cheng's gambling den.
They'll gamble anything, limbs, lives, loved ones. All to get riches and fortunes
But no one worries anymore since you exist.
Hua Cheng still doesn't know why suddenly gambling is becoming a rising trend
Someone gambled their hand away? Would you please be a dear and help?
Another gambled their daughter's life away? Would you kindly give me enough blood to help her live a long, fortunate life?
You say yes every time. You love to help people.
Recently it's been too much though, too much blood is being taken.
You have too many wounds of your own.
Xie Lian and Hua Cheng have noticed your lifelessness.
You're pale, barely sleep.
When you think they don't see, they do. The bandages hiding under your robes.
So of course as you lovers they ask.
You tell them nothing, you're just tired, it's just another rough patch, you just need time
They don't like that answer they aren't stupid.
So Xie Lian and Hua Cheng decide to walk around ghost city and try catching on to rumors going around.
They find some.
It isn't hard when the residents of ghost city would tell them anything.
Whispers among the city of the man who can cure anything with a drop of blood. All you have to do is ask.
The residents snitch on you but it's for your own good!
They tell Hua Cheng what's going on, about how you've been helping people who come out of the gambling den.
Xie Lian is very concerned and upset that people are taking advantage of your kindness.
Hua Cheng is pissed though seething and hissing behind his teeth. His lover was getting hurt by visitors in his city.
In his city! And he knew nothing of it, he didn't notice this going on at all and it's his job to keep an eye over the gambling den. To keep his eye over you.
Hua Cheng sends Xie Lian home.
Xie Lian spends time fixing your wounds, giving you the medicine to heal them, talking to you about what's going on.
Hua Cheng is going through records, finding the identities of each person who has recently gambled at his den.
How dare they come to his city and hurt his lover?
Hua Cheng doesn't come home until late.
He was busy traveling the three realms and murdering all those people in cold blood.
When he comes home he's covered in blood and Xie Liam shuffles him into the bath.
For the rest of the night all three of you lie in bed, your two lovers holding onto you tightly. They kiss over your scabbed wounds.
They keep a good eye on you after that.
The rumours in ghost city die out and whoever searches for you goes missing.
You're safe though and that's all that matters.
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I hope you like 🙏
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mvltisstuff · 10 months
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Evan Buckley & female reader - a fic where instead of the firetruck crushing buck’s leg, it crushes the reader’s leg instead and the reader is in the firetruck when it explodes and Buck & reader have been engaged for 2 years. Buck is worried and scared and panics when he sees the reader underneath the truck. He helps her through the physical therapy of getting back her leg strength and helps her through how she is told she may not be able to be a firefighter again.
lots of angst, heartbreak, sadness, anger, fluff too 💙
love ur 911 fics so much ❤️‍🩹
are you with me - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
a/n: i’m so happy you guys like my fics, i have plenty coming your way soon 🩶 btw this started off pretty strong and idk what happened toward the end w the quality
it’s never realized how much calamity one person can cause in such a large city. people get in their cars to go to work, they order a package, they stop at the store, and the last thing they expect is an explosion right at their feet.
over three million people in los angeles, and one forced 30 tons of weight onto y/n’s leg. it was just work. something she does every single day. of course, nothing in life ever remains the same, but this is really something you can never expect. you watch it in movies, or you hear about it in the news, only until it happens to you.
she knew the bones in her leg were crushed upon the impact, the engine thrown on its side. buck watched from a distance, being held back by the police. he would do anything for her. he wanted to tear this kid to shreds. he saw y/n’s broken leg under the truck and her head weakly lifting up. he could almost hear the pained gasps and whimpers from her lips. y/n, on the other hand, felt like she was in the center of the ring, the joke of this kid.
all the bystanders watched the scene unfold, the boy trying to summon the captain of the 118. it felt unreal. the noise and the truck shaking the ground they walked on.
buck thought he hallucinated the sparkling ring on y/n’s hand, somehow managing to remind him of the fight he was about to do. he vividly remembers the day he got down on his knee, bargaining the rest of his life to her and crying when she said yes. the whole team had been there, watching from a distance as her hand covered her mouth and lifted him from the floor. their wedding was being planned, every last detail needing to be perfect for the couple.
most people’s instinct would be to run away, but buck wanted to run toward the chaos. if y/n was there, so was he. his life mission has been to keep her safe, and knowing someone went out of his way to hurt her makes him go crazy. the exact moment that freddie was taken down with his overcomplicated vest, buck found himself running to her. he instantly fell onto his knees, seeing the ash and tears on her face close up.
she wished she couldn’t feel it, but she felt every part of it. she didn’t know anything. was her leg even connected to her anymore? buck moved himself closer to her so she could hear him over the murmuring of watchers.
“hey! hey, y/n,” he starts.
“it h-hurts so bad,” she whines, making him grimace himself.
“son of a bitch, ok. we’re gonna get you out of there, yeah?”
“please,” she begs, almost inaudible. buck stands up, calling for anyone he can to lift the truck off her, which was almost impossible with a few people around. hen was on the ground, connecting machines to y/n’s harmed figure.
“hang in there, y/n/n,” she says softly. “we’ve got you.”
despite his entire body weight being used to lift the ladder engine, it didn’t budge once. the only thing it did was echo the raw screams from y/n, poisoning bucks ears making his heart speed up. the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him think he could do it.
“do you have anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” eddie asks to a panicked bobby, trying to save one of his workers and best friends.
“it’s too heavy, it wouldn’t work,” bobby says as a light goes off in bucks head.
“more people,” he mumbles. “we need more people! hey! all of you, get over here and lift this!” he shouts at the mob of people observing the accident. not hesitating, the civilians sprint over and grab onto any part of the truck that they can.
y/n was in grievous pain, dreading the agony that would come when they finally lifted it. she was right, it was tormenting, releasing shrieks she didn’t know she had. before she could rethink everything, she was tugged from under and flipped onto her back. buck couldn’t peel his gaze away from the blood that has completely stained her pant leg and the parts of her leg that should be inside of it. complete shock and fear took over his body, but not enough to stand there with her the whole time. he watched chimney and hen bandage up her leg and move her into the ambulance, where buck sat next to her. hen was in the back with him, chim being the designated driver. unfortunately, y/n had been awake for the entire experience. from the second the engine flipped, to the second she was lifted into the ambulance. as much buck was grateful that she was awake, he almost wanted her to pass out. she wouldn’t have to endure this much pain, despite the morphine kicking in.
y/n’s hand twitched in bucks, “buck?” she grumbles out.
“y/n,” he makes note of her panicked state. “i’m here, you’re ok. i’m not going anywhere, honey.”
“someone should tell the city that we need a n-new truck,” buck laughs at her mind and how it works before running a hand through her hair.
“you don’t have to worry about that,” says buck. “you have no idea how relieved i am that you’re ok.”
“we’re getting married soon,” she realizes. “shit, we were supposed to get married soon-“
“shh, it’s all gonna work out, ok?” buck reassures. “i’d marry you no matter what, broken leg or not.”
“promise?”
“i promise.”
the hours sitting in the waiting room were grueling. maddie had left to be with buck, watching the entire scene go down on the news. even her heart ached, watching someone she already considers family have to face something like this. the whole team was anxiously waiting for the surgeon to come out and say she’d be ok. she held them together like a true family, being the most stable relationship they had. she was the part of the station that made their bond unbreakable. watching her vulnerable condition under that truck was almost intolerable. the time that she wasn’t in work felt like a missing puzzle piece.
weeks had passed since the bombings of LA, and buck had been there every single day. in sickness and in health, he hasn’t said the words out loud, but he swore to that since the day he met her. he knows that she would do the same exact thing for him, and he would spend every single day helping her.
y/n felt completely isolated in their small apartment, barely being able to leave the first floor. she craved work, she desperately awaited the day that she could return, but the injury in her leg hadn’t resolved. no matter how many times she tried to convince herself, she didn’t know if she’d ever be a firefighter again. at some point, she almost envied her fiancé for being able to go to work. he felt so bad for her, just wanting to give her her life back. the weekly doctors appointments were draining her of almost everything she had, every single one proving nothing. nothing that meant anything. the situation was completely out of anyone’s control, and she had consumed so much anger about it. anger at the doctors, the therapists, the kid, the 118, everyone around her.
buck was forced to sit back and watch, to act as a shoulder to cry on. he was the third crutch, the person she leaned on when she couldn’t stand on her own. there was no way in hell she could’ve done it alone. buck was the one to drive her to every appointment and helped carry some of the burden.
at the end of the day, there were two things that scared y/n the most. losing buck and losing her job. the two things that got her out of bed and the two things that gave her a true meaning. as time passed and every request to be back at work was denied, she swore her heart hurt more than her leg.
“y/n?” buck called out after arriving back home. she had been on the couch, watching another drama series about firefighters. “hi, how are you doing?” he asked when spotting her in the living room. she didn’t respond, just looked at the television with the volume low. he went and sat next to her.
“what’s wrong? did something happen?”
her eyes had already been bothered from tears of anger and frustration, and he could clearly see that with his own. “they called again.”
“wasn’t the answer you wanted?”
“i have been pushing myself every day for approval, and i have not gotten anything for it,” she says, dryly. “i have been killing myself to go back to what i love and why am i not getting anything?” her voice cracks.
“listen,” he tries to distract her from her own negativity and forces her to look at him. “i know you’ve heard this a million times, but you have to let yourself take the time to heal. if you go back too soon, you’re going to make it worse.”
her nose scrunches at bucks words, causing her to sniffle as he continues. “i know, it sucks, and i am so, so sorry. it’s just that none of us want to see you do more harm than good. we need you back as a firefighter, but i need you back to normal first. you’re worth so much more than this, and this injury is not going to take you out, we all know it.”
y/n opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out besides the small beginning of a word. she knows he’s right, but having to come to terms with that is the hardest part of it all. she begins to cry lightly again, her face in her hands as she leans forward. buck slides over, wrapping his arms around his distressed fiancé.
y/n took bucks advice, and now, she stands in the entrance of the firehouse. she walks in to see her uniform waiting for her in her cabinet, her gear untouched, and it feels like she was here yesterday. she feels at home here. buck follows her in, grabbing her hand and they restart the rest of their lives.
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horseslur · 1 month
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equestrian festival definitely top 3 events i've attended. my new horse is named foxking. i've never talked to linda this much, who is simply Here Now. the butler is here and Watching Me. sabine introduction cutscene that frankly has more "introducing the blatant love interest" vibes than "here's the villain" energy. what the absolute clownery was that balloon catching quest. 10/10
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hanniejji · 1 year
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doll
[ kunikuzushi!scaramouche x okami!reader ]
summary: in a desperate hope that yae could still give ei's puppet a chance to live, she turns to you, an ancient godlike being born with the physique of a wolf and a former friend that she hasn't seen since makoto's death. yet, as she persuades you, she starts to realize that maybe this was her biggest mistake yet.
notes: nah y/n's just being a silly wolf, they're not gonna do anything bad to kuni 🥺 not yet ehe just kidding she's just a lil salty i based y/n's form from okami, a mythological wolf deity in japan but im not japanese so i may be culturally incorrect im so sorry ackskf | m.list
words: 1131 | warnings: a little mean and rude reader but only a lil ackskf
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"it's a kid."
"as you can obviously see."
you sent a sharp side eye towards the smug fox, your arms crossed in an attitude that only you are privileged to make known to the ever magnificent yae miko. if it was anyone else, she would have said a word or two about their respect towards her.
but this is you.
you who used to signify great strength among your kind—you still do, but not as much when you were still active in the battlefield—and once stood beside the ever wise makoto, the first archon of inazuma.
you, veteran warrior of the archon war who survived the great calamity five hundred years ago, now being forced into some… babysitting nonsense.
"it's a fucking kid."
"watch your mouth, dear. after all, he is a kid," she winked. "and what do they say about kids? they are easily influenced by the people they are surrounded with, so if i were you i would be very careful if i don't want him spewing curses here and there."
"what is a kid, he, doing here?"
your eyes stared down at the shivering boy on the ground, meeting his terrified purple eyes that resembled someone you once knew. he's the spitting image of them, long luscious purple hair and amethyst eyes that shined brighter than any other vajrada stones you've seen—you're just being a little biased, you secretly love those cor lapis you only seen merchants bring through the port but you don't exactly say they out loud where anyone can hear you.
"that's a long story."
"well then, get talking."
"my, my, what got you so sour today?" yae's alluring giggles infuriated you more than the sight of this boy in front of you.
"you are well aware of why i prohibited any trespasses in my abode, guuji yae," your tone nearly turns to a growl at your ex-acquaintance's new title—you can almost see the way she backs away but she surely regained her composure as quick as lightning, but her flattened ears says otherwise—"and yet here you are, shamelessly asking me for a favor after i made it clear that my ties with the shogun and her connections are severed with my own claws."
"yes, i am aware," she exasperatedly sighs, "but this is a pressing matter that i can only turn to you for help."
"by dumping the child of the shogun on me?"
"y/n!" yae frowned at your tone, one of her hands coming to rest upon the boy's trembling shoulder. "if you could please take the time to understand where i am coming from, it would be greatly appreciated. listen to me, just this time."
the two of you stared at each other in silence, both of you radiating an intimidating aura of authority that only some of the most prominent species in inazuma has. your eyes glowered menacingly, a growl resounding from the back of your throat that sent yae miko into tremors of fear. you, who had stood next to the defenders of inazuma. yae miko barely stands a chance against you.
"please," she faltered against your everlasting gaze. "at least give the boy a chance."
your eyes brought its gaze to the trembling boy. his head is lowered to the ground, an evident effect of your show of strength. fear is literally plastered in the way he's trembling, elbows shaking despite having both of his hands keeping him up from falling limp on the ground. tears were dripping from his pale cheeks, soft whimpers of his cries being desperately muffled by biting into the pulp of his lower lip. it's no doubt that they're swollen by now—in fact, if he was human, you could probably smell the smallest hint of metallic blood from just a tiny crack on the skin of his lips.
pathetic, you scoffed, this? is supposed to hold the gnosis of a god? perhaps ei has forgotten the difference between a celestial being and a mere puppet.
"why is the shogun rejecting her own creation?"
the boy let out a whimper louder than the rest.
sensitive, too emotional.
"she did not reject him," yae crossed her arms at the accusation, bravely sending you a dirty look, "i would love to explain everything to you in detail, just not in his presence."
"oh?"
she grimaces at the victorious smirk on your face.
"why not let him listen? after all," you walk towards the boy, crouching right in front of him. a hand raises to tilt his chin up, eyes glowing in amusement at his confused look, "does he not deserve an explanation as to why his own creator—or better yet, his mother—decided to entrust him in the hands of someone like me?"
you hold his face in your hands, thumbs caressing the apple of his cheeks and cooing at the way they turn pink.
the way humans do.
"is ei," your voice lowers to a sultry tone, a hypnotic sound that turns the boy into a puddle of something akin to reverence, doe eyes staring back at yours, "turning her eyes away from a mistake she made on her own, like the blind coward she is?"
"that's enough," yae hissed, snapping the boy out of his trance and he cowers away from your touch, "ei is entrusting him to you because she knows you won't do anything that will harm him. he's still just a boy."
both yae and the boy jumped when you suddenly laughed. it wasn't anything gleeful or genuine. it was cold, empty, something that tells yae that she should leave before you bare your fangs at her.
"ei still trusts me? how amusing!" your grin tells her another story, "well then, i shall honor such opportunity!"
"what?" yae stares at you dumbfounded for the nth time today.
"you're… taking him in?" she faltered in disbelief. she was almost sure you'd shoo them away, spouting how insolent she is to believe that you would even do such a favor, that you would not bore such a responsibility on behalf of the shogun. somewhere at the back of yae's mind, she's screaming at herself to pull the boy away from you before everything takes a turn for the worst.
"why not?"
gently, with cold hands that once held warmth years ago, you held his face closer, brushing the stray strands of purple out of his visage and whispering into his ears.
"what's your name, little one?"
"kuni… kunikuzushi," he stammered.
"such an entitled name you have, i like it. doesn't suit a face like yours, but we'll see," the grin on your face widened, leaning closer to his ears, "i would love to take you in, doll."
the sight of you, towering above ei's prototype, sends an unknown fear into yae's mind.
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anneapocalypse · 7 months
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On the Scions and Sacrifice
(I am still mid-Stormblood, so no spoilers please. ❤)
Master Louisoix looms so large over all the Scions, and I feel like it's really given nearly all of them a complex where they feel like they have to be willing to sacrifice themselves should the need arise--and they're all just waiting for that moment that happened to Louisoix, that realization that there is no other choice. It might be death, it might be something else, but they're all so ready to take the bullet, literal or figurative.
We see it with Moenbryda, who says that she finally understands the choice he made seconds before she gives her life to defeat an Ascian. We see it with Yda and Papalymo, Thancred and Y'shtola, and finally Minfilia as one by one they stay behind, urging the others to go on, until only the Warrior of Light is left. We see it again with Papalymo when he gives his life to contain the primal summoned by the Griffon. We see it with Minfilia's willingness not only to hand herself over to Hydaelyn to be her voice, but to travel to a far-off star, maybe never to return, to help save a world she has never seen. We see it in Urianger acting alone to spare his friends the burden he carries for what he believes to be necessary actions. Even Alphinaud basically doesn't allow himself to be just a teenage boy and over and over keeps trying to take the world on his shoulders because he believes it's what he's supposed to do as Louisoix's grandson. Lyse in Stormblood is so ready and eager for revolution but over and over again we see the true cost of war and of resistance to overwhelming imperial power, and we are confronted with the question of what level of sacrifice is fair to ask of people who have already suffered so much and are just trying to survive.
And yes, sacrifice is noble and valiant and all that, but at the end of the day I don't think the effect is a net positive. Louisoix did what he did when there was very definitively, apocalyptically, no other choice. He probably wasn't wrong. But that doesn't mean that it's good or useful for all of his followers to be waiting on a knife's edge for the same. It makes them perhaps too ready to throw themselves to the fire, too quick to assume that a heroic sacrifice is the only choice. Because what if they assume there are other options left, and they're wrong? What if they fail to act at the critical moment? The Calamity scarred Eorzea, scarred everyone in ways both obvious and subtle, and I think this particular scar on the Scions is an ultimately negative impulse that I hope we see them find their way out of. Alisaie, notably, is not about that shit, and I look forward to her seeing what kind of influence she has upon the others.
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tinandabin · 1 year
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Traveller meets the creator
hi guys this doesn't occur in the main story just so u know
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It was a quiet afternoon in Liyue Harbor, after defeating Osial things were going back to normal and everything was calm. Of course, the creator had heard of the sudden calamity upon Liyue, but they had no intention to interfere with the matters of the mortal realm. The Archons are there to take care of their respective nations. So, you left it to them to deal with.
You'd heard a few tales from wandering rumours, of the 'Mighty Traveller' the one who not only defeated your dear Dvalin but one of the Fatui Harbingers and then Osial. That was truly impressive. However, you had no intention of meeting the Traveller.
So, meeting the Traveller right now was a pure coincidence. But the thing is, the traveller doesn't know you are The Creator. I mean, who would know when you are disguised to the brim? No one could know except your dear acolytes.
They had a flying companion named 'Paimon' who was busy gobbling down all the food at the moment.
"So dear Traveller, what are you looking for?" You asked, looking at the female who was obviously an outlander considering the clothing she wore.
"...I'm looking for my brother," She answered, becoming suspicious of you. Why are you asking her this? More importantly, why would you care for a traveller? Everyone always just asked her for help; no one asked her if she needed help.
"Oh, did he perhaps get lost?" You asked yet another question. It was obvious you were just toying with her for your own amusement. I mean, she did just say she was looking for her brother.
"Not particularly, me and my brother got separated by some unknown God.." She doesn't know why, but she just knows she can trust you. It doesn't hurt to tell another stranger of her sad tale, does it now? Who knows, you might even have seen her brother somewhere.
"Oh my, is that why you have been saving nations?" You were a bit shocked, who could've thought that one of your own children would have been the culprits, huh. She was most likely looking for the Archons to find some answers.
Before Lumine could reply, a black cat approached you. "Will you look at that? I have to take my leave now; thank you dear Lumine for sparing your time. We shall meet again." And with that, you went away with the cat dutifully following you.
Lumine's mind was in a daze, why couldn't she stop you? It felt as if what had just happened was a dream. "----ELLER!!" Paimon's voice brought Lumine back from her mind.
You were gone and that was when she noticed, you knew her name. Her real name.
"Paimon, who was that lady?"
"What lady, Traveller? Are you okay..?"
That was her first encounter with you.
___
A few weeks passed and Lumine stepped afoot into Liyue again, after doing her daily commissions. She headed to the Adventure's Guild and heard a few passersby talk of The Creator. She had heard of her and hoped to have an audience with her, if even she didn't know of her brother's whereabouts, Lumine didn't know what to do then.
Obviously, getting an audience with the Creator isn't an easy task; it isn't like they are even in the 'Mortal Realm'. People say that the creator lives far away from the grounds of Teyvat.
"Katheryne! We are here," Spoke Paimon, waving at the female.
"Ad Astra Abyssosque! Hello Traveller and Paimon!" She greeted back with enthusiasm, already handing off their rewards for doing the commissions.
"Katheryne, do you know what the hustle and bustle is about in Liyue?" Lumine questioned, everyone looked very happy, nothing bad of course, but it wasn't everyday you saw Liyue like this. It was almost as if they were celebrating some festival.
"Ah yes! The Holy Creator has decided to head into Liyue regarding the passing of Rex Lapis and some trivial matters." She informed the pair Lumine was a bit stunned for a second, it almost felt surreal to her. Maybe luck was with her, considering she is able to get an audience with the Creator so soon. Of course; there was a chance for the Creator to not help her.. But she will try to keep a positive attitude, at the very least, she will be able to see this 'Holy Creator'. She only heard of the Creator through the tales of Teyvat. Everyone praised this Creator, and even the Archons looked love-struck whenever they spoke of the Creator. Even Paimon— 'Teyvat's Best Guide' didn't know much of the creator. 
Paimon gasped loudly and hurriedly asked about the exact timing of the Creator's arrival. "Oh, Traveller! We have to prepare an offering right NOW!! The Creator is gonna be here in a few hours!! Oh, Archons, what will we do??" She started to relentlessly kick her legs and went to different stalls for some inspiration for the offering. 
"Calm down, Paimon. I'm sure we will arrange an offering." Lumine calmly followed Paimon and so the small hunt for the 'Best Offering Of Teyvat' as Paimon phrased it, began. 
_____
"Alright! Our basket of offerings is ready!" Paimon stuck her nose up in the air proudly. The basket of different items the pair arranged was remarkable; considering the small amount of time they were given. Of course, it wouldn't be possible without Zhongli's help. Sure he may not have Mora, but he did certainly have good tastes and keenly knew of the dislikes and likes of the Creator; he wasn't the Geo Archon for naught now, was he? 
The basket consisted of a few carefully plucked fresh Glaze Lillies. Some Sunettias were placed, all of them looking very sweet. A few more different & exotic fruits were placed. Zhongli insisted for the Traveller to teleport to Mondstadt and get a bottle of Dandelion Wine. Lumine didn't really have a choice in the matter, so she did. The basket itself wasn't anything extraordinary; nor were the items in it much special. However, Lumine did trust Zhongli's judgement, considering he was the Geo Archon. 
"Alright! Thanks for your help, Zhongli!" Paimon waved the man goodbye as Lumine carried the basket. She was starting to have doubts of the creator like this offering. No use in overthinking now, best to head towards Liyue Harbor. 
_______
In some time, The Creator was to step into Liyue Harbor. Everyone was waiting patiently, all eager to show-off their offerings. 
Meanwhile, the said Creator was busy feeding her koi fish. It was comical, because she was barely even dressed up for the event. Well, it wasn't really an event for you. It's normal for you to drop by in different regions; sometimes as the Creator, sometimes as a mortal. The humans were the ones to exaggerate whenever you dropped by. Really, all you wanted to do in Liyue Harbor was eat grilled tiger fish and go back to your home. 
But of course, you wouldn't dare disappoint your devotees. If they wish for you to play along with their shenanigans, you would gladly do so. So long as no one was harmed. 
"Oh Holiest Of All Creator! When the fuck will you get ready?" The cat, Seraphina, now morphed into a human male, not-so-graciously asked you. "Now, now, there is no need to rush. We still have like 1 hour."
"Oh, are you sure? Because the last time I checked you have exactly 5 minutes 52 seconds," He said, glaring at you while closing his pocket watch. 
"Ah, how will I, the Creator, care for measly affairs like time." You replied, dramatically placing a hand on your forehead for added effects. In your next life, you are gonna be a fucking actor. 
Seraphina sighed and told you to get ready. What does he even mean by that? You are ready. Who cares about clothes and all. Definitely not you. Nope. 
Anyways, by the next second, you were seen frantically rushing back and forth through your wardrobe and getting ready. Typical Creator behaviour, am I right? 
_______
"The Creator is here! Everybody, kindly step aside!"  
As everyone parted away, you could see a stunning throne situated between an open garden. It was made of gold and had beautiful designs carved into it. Whoever did the work on this throne definitely deserved a raise. You settled onto the throne with Seraphina standing beside you. Everyone looked at you, hoping for you to say something. You looked at the crowd— it was awkward. Yeah, even the Creator feels awkward. Big surprise huh? "Alright, this is awkward. Why is this part of the ceremony always awkward?" You whispered. Maybe you should ask Seraphina to prepare a speech for you beforehand from now on. That would be nice. 
Deep breaths now, and you gotta speak. Why is everyone looking at you? Like, yes, you are the Creator but chill out. It looks like everyone wants to eat you. "Greetings, subjects of Liyue." You started. But what to say now..? You don't know!! You aren't built for situations like these. Someone help. 
Seraphina sweatdropped, sighing at your awkward state. Are you even the Creator? "Apologies, the Creator is feeling awkward.. I shall take it upon myself to do all the talking part then." He spoke up in an authoritative tone and started with all the pleasantries which the Author can't be bothered to write about. The crowd couldn't help but swoon over their Creator, could you be any more adorable? 
As Seraphina did all the talking, you looked through the crowd hoping to spot a familiar face; of Morax, to be specific. Obviously, you knew he wasn't dead. It was all just a play to step down from the role of Archon. Not that you blamed him though, if given the chance, you would most likely fake your death and leave the role of creator. Not now, though. Maybe when Teyvat could live without you. 
Whilst looking through the crowd, you spotted the Traveller. You were surprised at seeing her, and it looked like she even had an offering. And will you look at that? Even Morax— or Zhongli, was beside her. He was looking at you since the start, and when you finally noticed him he couldn't help but feel a bit giddy on the inside. 
Smiling, you waved at Zhongli and The Traveller. The movement didn't go unnoticed by the crowd, but they thought you were simply waving to the Traveller. Why would you even wave at the assistant of a funeral parlour? That would be laughable. 
Within some time, all of the talking part was over and people began to come up one by one to offer something. Most of it was jewellery, clothes, gold and everything not eatable. You wouldn't complain about it though, it would be rude to do so. But personally, you really had no use of most of these mortal things. Well, whatever you suppose. 
Everyone would simply leave the offerings near your feet, none really had the courage to actually speak with you. You were getting sleepy, it was probably time for you to take a nap. 
But all the sleep vanished when Zhongli came up to place his offering— a silk flower. You'd always loved flowers, especially silk flowers and glaze lilies. They were just so pretty, how could you not? The crowd gaped at the audacity of this assistant to just offer a mere flower, but luckily so, their Creator was kind and accepted the offering with a smile on their face. "Why, thank you. I've always loved silk flowers." You twirled the flower in your hand, deliberating whether to eat it or not. 
After Zhongli came the Traveller, who placed her offering beside the others. She wouldn't so blatantly speak to you— in front of such a crowd at that. 
Soon enough all the offerings were placed and the Creator got up, intending to leave because it has been 5 minutes since your nap time started. Cannot miss it!! 
You started walking away, with Seraphina who has already teleported all the offerings to your palace. "Wait, I would like to speak with the Creator." Lumine stepped out from the crowd as Seraphina glanced at her, annoyed. "Right now?" He asked, irritated. But Lumine was persistent and said, "Right now." 
 "How about we arrange an appointment? Come tomorrow at like..4PM. Starsnatch cliff." And with that Seraphina and the Creator vanished. Thank Seraphina because bro, your social battery for today is in the negatives. You wouldn't be able to handle another interaction now... 
Even if Zhongli had been the one to stop you, you would've still vanished because sleeping is your top priority, sorry not sorry.
____________
TIME: 3:47PM 
LOCATION: STARSNATCH CLIFF
"Wew, we made it! And we still have time to spare." Paimon spoke up, huffing a bit. Hey, floating also takes energy, okay? 
"And the Creator is nowhere..." Lumine muttered, looking around her surroundings. For some reason, the other people yesterday didn't heard what that man— most likely your assistant said, it was perhaps only meant for her to hear. And Paimon. 
Maybe it was to prevent any other people from coming? If news spreads that the Creator is somewhere, prying eyes are always sure to follow. Come now, it isn't everyday you see the Creator. They barely make a presence nowadays, it is only natural to levitate towards your creator, right? 
A plop was heard and the sound of another body falling. "Motherfucker.." The voice groaned. Lumine took out her dull blade, getting into a fighting stance as Paimon looked over Lumine's shoulder to see the person. 
"See? I told you to be careful. But who even listens to me nowadays, huh? I am now just an old lady..none cares for me." You landed gracefully, much to Seraphina's displeasure.
"Well, hello Traveller! Do you remember me?" You waved at her, helping Seraphina up. At first, Lumine didn't recognise you. But the longer she looked at your face and imagined a hood covering it, she knew you were definitely that lady at Liyue Harbor. 
Her eyes widened a bit, wondering if she should be on guard or not. Her dull sword didn't disappear to her inventory, that you noticed. You had no qualms with her having a weapon with her. You weren't cocky or anything being the Creator, but you also didn't doubt your strength when it came to protecting Teyvat. Sure, you may be nearing your retirement age but who cares! 
"I suppose you want answers?" You laughed nervously, awkwardly clapping your hands. Lumine wasn't much of a talker, nor were you. So Paimon has to take the job upon herself!
"Eek!! I mean, yes! We umumum, need answers. Traveller's brother, what do you know about him, errr creator?" It was funny seeing Paimon stumble over her words, haha. She seems so nervous, you could just eat her. Literally. 
"Yes..What do you know of my brother?" Lumine finally spoke up, looking at you. Your eyes were filled with a bitter emotion. 
And so the tale of Khaenri'ah began, being spoken of for the very first time. 
__   
A knock resounded on your door. "Come in."  A muffled voice replied. 
The 3 Gods, which made up the Heavenly principles were crowded around your bed in which you slept peacefully. It has been decades.. Or even more since you last awoke. The first was a woman, Asmoday, with beautiful long white hair. She had golden— or amber eyes. The 'Sustainer of Heavenly Principles.' 
The second was a man with short black hair, possibly the most closest with the Creator. He never really engaged with the Heavenly Principles, finding them to be simply absurd. He had emerald eyes, and he was also your familiar. He went by the name 'Seraphina' meaning "Purifying Angel". The seraphim are the highest-ranking angels of God and are known for their intense passion and zealous love. The name was given to him by the Creator himself, and he wore it with pride.
The last one was an outlander, the weakest among all. She had a kind heart and would happily give herself up for you. She had short [H/C] and delicate [E/C]. One would say she was a ditto copy of yours. Many had even mistaken her as the creator. She called herself Revelyn.
The informant cowered in these Gods presence. The Creator always radiated a warm, kind and gentle aura. He never felt fear with the Creator. "There is something strange occurring in Teyavt.. A nation without a God ruling it has recently come into existence.." The voice informed, clutching a few papers. 
"Oh? Is that so. Humans and them thinking they can foolishly rule without a God." Asmoday scoffed, glaring at nothing. 
"Well, what does it even have to do with us?" Seraphina said, raising an eyebrow. "The Creator would have let them be; it isn't our place to interfere." 
"Sir.. The nation has been building monstrous machines.. Our team fears they may be a threat to the future of Teyavt." The informant spoke out, his voice wavering a bit. Seriously, why do they have to be so intimidating? Can't they like, take a chill pill for a second?
"A threat to the future of Teyvat... The Creator wouldn't want that, now would she, S-e-r-a-p-h-i-n-a?" Asmoday smirked a bit at him, he was just always full of himself. 
"You shut your mouth. We will not take any action until the Creator is awake." Seraphina declared and left the room, leaving the rest alone.
"I agree with Seraphina.. We shouldn't take any action.. But if it harms Teyvat.. Then I fear I wouldn't be so compliant."  Revelyn spoke in a soft tone. Her hand held yours. 
And so the Archon war started.
Messages were passed onto the Archons, to make sure this new nation will not survive. Do whatever it takes, it doesn't matter if you all die in the war. The Heavenly Principles said. That was when Seraphina officially left the Heavenly Principles and Revelyn went back to her world with a silent promise to see you again in her heart.
"And now..The nation is but a lost tale to time." You finished with a whisper, your eyes recalling the bitter memory. It always soured your mood, to think Asmoday and Revelyn would do this.. Seraphina played no part in it, considering he never agreed to what they said and left when they officially declared war on the nation. 
"Oh, also, your brother is the Prince Of Abyys." 
________________
Anyways have some incorrect quotes cuz why not?
[Name]: Hah! 69! You know what that means?
Revelyn: What?
Seraphina: That you're a child.
Asmoday: HOW'D YOU GUESS MY IQ!?
_____
[Name]: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys.
Revelyn: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap!
Seraphina: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!!
Asmoday: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting.
[Name]: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.
_____
[Name]: Dammit, Revelyn!
Revelyn: What?! It wasn’t me!
[Name]: Sorry, force of habit. Dammit, Seraphina!
Seraphina: Not me either.
[Name]: Oh...Then who set the house on fire?
Asmoday: *whistles*
____
[Name]: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.
Revelyn: You were flirting with Seraphina.
[Name]: So what? They're my partner.
Revelyn: You asked them if they were single.
[Name]:
Revelyn: And then you cried when they said they weren't.
___  
[Name]: What if I press the brake and gas at the same time?
Revelyn: The car takes a screenshot.
Seraphina: For the last time, get the fuck out.
_____
[Name]: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it
Revelyn: Just rip the bandage off.
[Name]: It’s Seraphina.
Revelyn: Put the bandage back on.
_____
Seraphina, watching the news: Someone tried to fight a squid at the aquarium today!
[Name]: *walks in covered with ink* Well, maybe the squid was being a dick.
____
Seraphina: Do you take constructive criticism?
[Name]: I only take cash or credit.
____
Seraphina: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds.
[Name]: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!?
Seraphina: No! Four to five seconds!
[Name]: Too late!!!
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jqnehr · 4 months
Text
les améthystes du ciel | neuvillette — part 9
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two individuals under pressure to marry. one has the hydro archon on his back, and the other has her matchmaking friend pushing her along. when the two meet at a ball, and both in dire need of peace from two meddlesome females, what better arrangement is there than their own betrothal?
pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader warnings : too tired to put anything, this is sfw. word count : 4.8k note : I am about to collapse.
! not proof read
! do not copy, redistribute, translate, or use my work with or without credit in any way. thank you.
part eight ⋮ masterlist ⋮ part ten
ao3 ⋮ playlist
...
Neuvillette has sharp ears.
Perhaps it’s because of their peculiar, inhuman shape, and thus helps him receive sound waves the average human cannot. 
No. It’s simply that he is not a human at all. As we all know, he’s the Hydro Sovereign, born from the remnants of a Divine Dragon long lost. Besides, he’d been able to hear Paimon hissing to the Traveller about him in the Epiclese right before Lyney and Lynette’s show—and before disaster struck. 
So, suffice to say, he heard good and well what Navia whispered into your ear, leaving your cheeks flushed red—and the back of his neck and ears burning.
However, he masked it, seeing your clear discomfit and hope he had not caught Navia’s words; choosing to shelve it overthink later, he suggested the two of you heading off.
Now, he is helping unload the few (heavy) boxes of your belongings into your new room. He had personally selected this room—two halls away from his own, as he had a feeling you’d appreciate—and by the look on your face, Neuvillette is sure you’re pleased with the room.
It is a moderately sized room, but its expansive windows looking out onto the harbour and the sunlight it lets pour in makes the place seem more voluminous. He stands aside, out of the way of the movers, carefully watching your reactions.
Your eyes are wide, sparkling, darting all over the place and taking in every detail. The canopy bed with a king-sized mattress and a floral, gold-hemmed duvet; the plush rug splayed neatly upon the mahogany flooring; polished bookshelves lining the walls, already half-filled with books he had picked out himself based on personal favourites; and the intricate paintings on the ceilings, depicting great feats of Fontainian heroes in the past and the Archons’ awesome endeavours during eras of calamity. You place a box down by the bookshelf, straightening, mouth agape in awe.
“Neuvillette.” He inclines his head in your direction to show his attention, something that goes unnoticed by you, as you’re too busy ogling your new room to show your descry. “Did you say you picked out this room yourself?”
One of the movers steps forward, tipping his hat in respect, apologetic for interrupting. “Monsieur, Madame, everything’s unloaded now. We’ll take our leave.”
“Oh, thank you,” you reply, still taking in the entire room. “Have a lovely rest of your day.”
The men click the door shut on their way out, and Neuvillette promptly answers your previous question. “Yes. I thought it would suit you. Do you like it?”
“Oh, yes.” You’re a bit breathless with reverence. “It’s wonderful. The sort of room I read about in fairytales as a child, something I never imagined having ever the chance to live in for myself.” Too bad it’s for a year, you think glumly, stepping towards the windows, where the breeze gently lifts the sheer curtains. You gaze outside, towards the breathtaking view of the sea.
Neuvillette feels terribly relieved. “I’m glad. If you wish for any rearrangements, simply call on the head maid. She will do all she can to fulfil your request.”
“It’s perfect as it already is.” Why would I renovate when I’m only here for a year? “I see the books already here.” You turn to face him. “Whose are they?”
“…Mine.” He can’t quite put a finger on why he feels embarrassed. “They’re the books I have enjoyed thoroughly throughout my long years. Not all of them are fictional, by the way. I just thought…you might appreciate some new reads.”
Neuvillette has to resist squirming at the intensity of your gaze as you stare at him. It’s a look he has great trouble reading, and he doesn’t know why his ears feel flushed. 
“Thank you, Neuvillette,” you eventually say after a drawn-out moment of silence. You turn towards the bookshelves. “Considering how well you appear to understand my taste in things, I’m sure our preferences in literature will be no different.”
He watches as you run your fingertips lightly over the spines of the books, head tilted to the side to read the books’ titles. “There are a good many here. And you said they’re ones you’ve collected over the years.” The look you give him is what he presumes to be ‘excitement’. “And you’ve lived a long time. How many of these books are antiques, or centuries old?”
“Some are ones that I’ve not seen in bookstores for a good 150 years,” he responds, stepping forward to pull one out that is roughly four-hundred years old. The book looks old and well-read, considering its worn spine and yellowed pages. It has the distinct scent of an aged book, a smell you adore, and it creaks as he cracks it open. You aren’t able to catch its title, as the cover is also worn down. “This was a gift from a Melusine centuries ago.” An expression of distant sadness washes over Neuvillette’s face. “She…ended her own life to disprove some cruel accusations against her. You see, I was only just instigated as Iudex back then, and Melusines had recently entered Fontainian society as citizens. The humans were very distrustful of both I and the Melusines, leading to…violent discrimination.” Neuvillette’s Adam’s apple bobs as he pauses, a knot forming between his brows. His eyes are lowered towards the book, long lashes obscuring the amethyst of his eyes and thus the sentiments within them. “It was a dark time for the Melusines and myself. I had to put a close friend of mine away in the Fortress as a result, for he was falsely accused also. That’s why…I am, essentially, putting much trust in you by lending you this book.”
He lifts it towards you, and you refuse to take it. “Neuvillette, if it’s that important of a book to you, then there is no reason for you to give it to me. To accept such a personal item is—”
“Well, take it as a confirmation of my sincere wish to be your friend.” He pushes it into your hands. “There is no need for awkward air or any walking on eggshells between us. We’re going to have to brave the next twelve months joined at the hip, no? We must learn to trust and rely on one another to successfully get through this.”
You lower your eyes towards the book, finally accepting it. You lightly brush your fingers over the faded gold lettering of what once was the title, feeling the rough leatherette cover under your fingertips. “What was the book’s title, Neuvillette?”
“It’s called The Soul of a Human. It’s about human emotions and how they work. It’s likely an outdated work, as it is about four centuries old. Either way, the book was an awesome help toward me fitting in with society, making the populace trust me as Iudex, and furthering my understanding of human emotions…but, it’s still something I struggle with.”
“If you aren’t a human, then what are you, Neuvillette?” 
If there is a question Neuvillette has been dreading you to eventually ask, it would be this one. How do I explain who I am without telling her my true identity? So he settles for a safer route, something maybe a bit more believable. “I am…a Melusine hybrid.”
I suppose it’s marginally better than telling her I’m the Hydro Sovereign. But he can tell that you do not believe him, which you waste no time in voicing. “No, you’re not, Neuvillette. Is there even such thing as a ‘Melusine hybrid’? I know you are not telling the truth.”
Neuvillette has never been quite put on the spot before as now, with your direct calling out of his little white lie. What an embarrassing look for a man who is supposed to be the embodiment of honesty. He’s the one who told you he is ‘not predisposed to lying’. He even told the Traveller that he’s more than capable of distinguishing flavour differences between each region’s water—something the Traveller lifted a sceptical brow to, and he gave it to them straight that he ‘is the Iudex’ and that he ‘does not lie’. 
So. Although he was telling the truth then, it’s quite humiliating how quick you just saw through his lie. He swallows and looks away, fighting back a blush. “Haha…how embarrassing. The truth is…”
“You can’t tell me?” You offer, giving him an understanding smile. “That’s okay. You could’ve just said that, you know. We’re not obligated to tell each other anything personal.”
He looks up at you through his lashes, tilting his head. “That is true. Thank you for being understanding.” Neuvillette draws in a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh through his nose, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I don’t think anyone else would’ve been suited for this role other than you. It is rare to find someone with as level a head as yours.”
“I suppose so.” Despite your outwardly calm appearance, the inside is a much different story. With your tendency to bottle up your deepest emotions, to call yourself ‘level-headed’ would be almost an overstatement. You’ve been in a very serious life-or-death situation before, something that has left its unfading mark on you, and to say you were ‘level-headed’ or even ‘rational’ would be a bald-faced lie. You suppose that anyone getting strangled by their fiancé would be pretty inclined to panicking—but, the point is, although you seem circumspect and grounded, your inner sentiments are the opposite, and they’re always fighting to burst out of you. 
And they have, a few times. The aftermath was ugly.
Neuvillette has fallen silent, staring at you, as if watching your expressions, and that makes you school your features in one of careful, impeccable neutrality, almost detachment. “Now, what about dinner tonight?”
“Ah, yes.” That look in his eye hasn’t disappeared—a look where he can seemingly see right through you, and isn’t fooled by your blank expressions. “I dine at eight. How does that sound?”
“Fine.” You nod, offering a small smile. “You should take this chance to show me your water collection.”
The Chief Justice raises a brow, an amused smile pricking at the corners of his mouth. “You make it sound like such a joke. But, I will take you up on that. I doubt you’ve tried authentic Natlanian-heated Snezhnayan water before. The combination is unexpected, but quite pleasing to the palate.”
“Goodness, Neuvillette.” You place a hand upon your heart in faux-shock, giving him a look of mock-distress. “You will drain the Palais of its funds if you keep importing all this water and heating it in real Natlanian fire and chilling it in genuine Snezhnayan ice!”
He plays along—something you’ve found yourself very grateful for. Not many get your sense of humour, but the Iudex does. All your attempts at jesting were frequently met with blank, awkward side glances and suffocating silence. Your humour changed from one of true heartiness to dark absurdity upon the events of five years ago.
For a while, you didn’t have a sense of humour at all. For a time it felt like there was no need to laugh, smile or joke. That there was no point in doing so, because there was nothing happy about life and living anymore.
Maybe it’s part of the reason for your inexplicable sense of comfort and safety around the man. He may not be much of a smiler, but he does have a sense of humour. He knows how to appreciate a joke—although, more often than not, he’s a bit clueless. Wriothesley’s jokes go right over his head, more often than not.
That led you to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’s as comfortable around you as you are him. That maybe, he understands you intimately, and always knows you mean no harm.
“Uh oh. I’ve been found out,” Neuvillette says in a deliberately overly monotone voice. “I’m so scared. How will I ever go on without my water?”
“Don’t they give you a glass a day down in the Fortress?” Frankly, you know nothing of how prisoners are treated in Meropide, and you’re not sure if you want to find out. At any rate, it’s humorous and utterly unrealistic to imagine the Iudex in such a place—a thought to which he himself chuckles. “Oho, I can assure you the Duke is much more merciful on the convicts than that. Either way, it would still be torture.”
Hm, okay… This entire time, you’ve, in a way, been fishing—trying to dig into why Neuvillette likes water so much, and how he doesn’t seem to complain about having to go to the toilet all the time, and how he lied about his true identity. So, you’ve concluded vaguely, that he must be some kind of Hydro being. 
Oh well, better not read into it too much. It’s not your place, nor your business, as strictly stated by the contract. Besides, it’s clear the Chief Justice doesn’t want you knowing—if he’d even go against his own principles and lie about it.
You chalk it up to having just taken him off guard, forcing him to lie as he searched for a plausible excuse not to reveal himself to you. 
“What time do you leave for your office in the mornings?” You change the topic, turning away from the bookshelf and for a box, kneeling to open it up. “Maybe we could have breakfast together.”
“I awake at 5AM, and leave at six-thirty,” he answers, tone somewhat apologetic, and you can’t fathom why. “I would never expect you to get up so early to join me—”
“That’s a perfectly normal hour to get up, Neuvillette.” If you were a morning person, your stomach maybe wouldn’t have dropped at the thought of having to get up at dawn to have breakfast with him. “My shift at the boutique begins at seven in the morning, so it’s not too ungodly of an hour to get up.”
“Don’t feel obligated, [Name]. I don’t have very big breakfasts anyway.”
He knows he’s said the wrong thing the instant you swivel around to look at him, face incredulous. “So that’s why you’ve been looking so gaunt! Neuvillette, you can’t live off of water alone.” You stand and place your hands on your hips, face stern. “Let me guess, for breaks you just have water also? No food? Do you ever eat full meals?”
“I—of course, I do.” Neuvillette feels strangely touched with how genuinely concerned you appear; brows upturned and lips pursed, jaw tight. He doesn’t know why the sight pierces him. “I’m not unhealthy, and you really needn’t worry for me.”
“How can I not?” He feels pierced once more, and you turn away from him with a hand over your face. “You’re the Iudex. You’ve got one hell of a burden on your shoulders, and you’re not even eating large breakfasts! The most important meal of the day! Neuvillette.” You whirl around once more, stepping closer and pointing a finger at his chest. You could be more intimidating if you were taller. The man positively towers over you. “You are my husband, and it’s a wife’s basic duty—and a friend’s—to worry for their companion’s health. And you tell me not to worry?”
Maybe I am overreacting, but it does his pretty face no good to have those eyebags! Yet, you suppose it’s nice to see him in such a human state. It’s strangely attractive. “You have higher chances of getting sick when malnourished, so don’t even think of wandering out about in the rain.”
Having silently stared at you while you were scolding him, the Iudex finally lets out a chuckle, raising his hand to take gentle hold of your pointer finger that is lightly nudging his chest. He lifts your hand to his lips, placing a chaste, gracious kiss to the top of it. You almost fall back in surprise. “I will keep your concerns in mind, dearest. Thank you.”
Despite his reassurance, your worries are not eased. You also pointedly ignore the blood rushing in your hearts from your thumping heart and his unintentional suaveness. “I-I trust you’ll eat proper breakfasts? And get full nights of sleep?”
Neuvillette gently lets go of your hand. You quickly realise how close you both are, and you take a quick step back to put more polite distance between the two of you, hiding behind your hair to obscure your flushed face. “I will try. Sometimes, my thoughts grow too loud, and I take midnight strolls.”
“I hope you dress warmly.” You’re beginning to wonder if you even have any right to be so concerned for him. This marriage is contractual, but you’re already acting like a nagging, forty-year-old housewife. 
“Really, there’s no need for you to feel so concerned for me. My body is quite adapted to the coldness of rain.” 
“…Alright.” You try to persuade yourself that you’re just worried for him as a sister would fret over the wellbeing of her brother. “Well, then. Shall I see you at dinner?”
“Oh, yes.” Neuvillette quickly understands your words’ implications. He now must leave you to adjust to your room on your own. “Until this evening, [Name]. Have a lovely rest of your day.”
・・・・
You don’t really know what to wear for tonight. You’re kicking yourself over not specifying with him about whether it would be formal, semi-formal, or just casual…so, you opt to dress the former, selecting a comfortable pair of black dress pants and a white button-up blouse with puffy long sleeves. You pop in two jewelled stud earrings for minimal embellishment, and brush your hair out, leaving it down.
You stare at yourself for a long moment in the body-length mirror before you. This time last year, your eyes would’ve been sunken, lifeless, lips chapped and set permanently in a grim line. Now, even though you have little makeup on, you look…lighter. You don’t look so tired anymore. Those haunted shadows in your eyes are almost traceless, and your cheeks are full with health, your cheekbones not so prominent anymore. 
You’re smiling more, [Name].
You do a couple of poses in the mirror to fully assess your outfit for the evening, eventually ending up pleased with it. The pants look good on you, and, for the first time in years, you feel pretty.
I’m finally moving on from that man for good. In the last moments of your relationship—and what you thought were of your life—he made sure you knew how repulsive he found you. The insecurities have not faded, but you take comfort in the fact that Neuvillette has never looked at you with a sickened stare. He’s never seemed displeased with your presence.
With one final once-over of yourself in the mirror, you glance at the clock and quickly exit your room, trying to remember the way to the dining room. The Palais Mermonia itself is a maze, and Neuvillette’s wing of the building is no less of a labyrinth. 
You spot a maid nearby, drawing the hall curtains closed for the night. “Um, excuse me, miss—could you please direct me to the dining room?”
The woman turns, surprised, before pointing along the hall. “Of course. Just go along here, take two lefts and then you’ll find a set of double doors.”
“Thank you.” You quickly send her a grateful smile and hurry off, hoping you’re not late. How embarrassing would it be to reveal that you’d been too busy admiring yourself in the mirror to arrive on time?
After a few moments, you arrive at the double doors the maid mentioned, and you politely knock on them. It’s swiftly opened, and there is Neuvillette, seated upon a chair before an average-sized dining table—neatly set out with a sea-blue tablecloth and cushioned seats—in the middle of taking a sip from his goblet of, presumably, water.
The food is already laid out, but the Chief Justice clearly has not touched it. He was likely waiting for you, and seeing the clock, you’re an embarrassing five minutes late. “My apologies, Neuvillette, I got a bit lost.”
“No worries at all.” He smiles and stands, pulling out your chair for you and stepping aside for you to sit. The gentlemanly act takes you pleasantly off-guard. “The food was only just set out seconds before you arrived.”
“Ah, so it’s still warm, then,” you muse, watching a male servant step forward to place your entrés before you—creamy chicken and onion soup. “Goodness! This is like eating at Hotel Debord.”
“The chef is a master at soups.” Part of why he hired the cook. He softly blows on his spoonful of soup, quickly swallowing it before speaking again. “He is eagerly awaiting your feedback.”
You let out a pleased hum once you taste the dish. “Very delicious. I dare say, the benefits of this little arrangement Furina forced on us is piling up.”
You’re inwardly relieved when Neuvillette chuckles at your jest. Of course, you are joking—but then again, if you’re able to eat like this for the next twelve months… “Don’t get too comfortable. She’s already demanded for us to meet, as she’s got our first event to attend ready for us.”
You grow solemn at his words. “She has? Oh. Shall we not talk about such dull matters at present, Neuvillette? It will ruin our appetites.”
The Iudex quite agrees with you. “Of course. How are you finding your room?”
“It’s wonderful, Neuvillette.” It’s the kind of room illustrated in all those old fairy tale classics you read as a child—a room fit for a queen. “It has such a lovely view of the harbour.”
“You should see the gardens.” You look at him, surprised at his words. “There’s a garden?”
“Of course. This is the Palais.” Neuvillette smiles at you amusedly. “There is a fountain. And no light pollution reaches the area, so you’re able to see the stars vividly.”
What if I told him that I want to stay here forever? And you haven’t even lived here for a day. In fact, you’re a bit overwhelmed. “Will I see you getting rained on out there at night, Neuvillette?”
His mauve eyes flit away, hiding behind his hair. “…That depends.”
You laugh under your breath at the sight. The man, despite having been a judge for hundreds of years, is so surprisingly innocent. It’s a cute quality you like about him. “I’m amazed you’ve never experienced a fever from it.”
“I just…don’t understand how strange it seems.” He appears genuinely puzzled. “The people of Fontaine always give me weird looks whenever I stroll through a downpour along the streets. Is it really so outlandish that a man just wants to be left to his thoughts in the rain?”
“I suppose it’s because, as humans, we catch colds, Neuvillette.” You lift the last spoonful of soup in your bowl to your lips. “Getting caught in the rain is the quickest way to catch a chill. And they’re awfully unpleasant.”
“Even when you have an umbrella?”
“Well, there’s less of a chance,” you concede, murmuring a soft thanks to the servant that steps forward to retrieve your bowl, preparing for the main course. “I’m happy to join you, as long as I either have a raincoat or umbrella on hand.”
Neuvillette looks pleased at your suggestion. “A bit of company would be nice. Furina must never find out, though.”
“Oh, yes.” If you are to put up your act successfully, then it is imperative she remains in the dark. “Anyway, I wonder how the public will react to the news of your marriage?”
“The tabloids will probably make it way bigger of a deal than it truly is.” Neuvillette's expression looks resigned. “And we will bear the brunt. You must prepare yourself.”
“Yes…” You stare blankly at your fork. “I’ll probably have to apply for leave at the boutique.” It’s quite dismaying, having to anticipate your privacy being stripped from you all because of the impulsive whims of a spontaneous archon. 
“Don’t worry, as the contract stated, you will be protected.” Although, inside, Neuvillette is worried bodyguards won’t be enough. “No harm will come to you.”
“I can just sue them if they do overstep their mark.” The Steambird, as an example, is notoriously imposing, and bombardment from their journalists is guaranteed. “Is this what the Traveller deals with each day? No wonder they quickly head off to their next location as soon as they can.”
“Fame is a costly reward.” A long-suffering look passes over the Iudex’s handsome face. “For some, it is no prize.”
You understand his quiet referral to himself and the reception he has due to his exalted position within Fontaine and, essentially, Teyvat. “Perhaps some such as Furina, who revels in it, just cannot understand such a concept.”
Neuvillette considers your words for a brief moment. “Hm. Yes, you could say that. However…” He trails off as lidded platters with the main course prepared inside is placed upon the table. “There is much more to her than what first meets the eye. I’ve known her for a very long time, and she is certainly no superficial girl.”
That makes you fall into a thoughtful silence, just watching the servants bustle about. One finally lifts the platter lids, letting the hot food’s steam billow out, your pondering quietude broken. The aroma is heavenly. “Oh, my—a lamb roast? You spoil me!”
Neuvillette thanks the servant as the man bows and steps to the side. The lamb is already sliced, the meat cooked to perfection. “Of course. Help yourself.”
You notice that many of the dishes presented have a lot of sauce with them. You don’t mind—every dish smells divine and you’re quick to load up your plate. “What’s for dessert?” You’re unsure if you’ll be able to fit it in.
“I don’t usually have dessert, but I had a cake prepared for you.” He taps a serving spoon against the edge of a bowl to rid it of excess sauce. “A black forest layer cake. Is that alright?”
“Like I would complain,” you amusedly quip once you’d finished your mouthful. “And this sweet potato is exceptional, Neuvillette, do try some—”
A sharp knock at the door cuts you off, making the two of you pause in your tracks. Neuvillette sends a bemused glance to the nearby servant, who quickly opens the door. 
A man stumbles in, hastily adjusting his spectacles and trying to neaten his flustered, unkempt appearance. A bolt of unease shoots through you at the sight, leaving no room to be offended at his abrupt and rude entrance during your meal.
“Monsieur Neuvillette!” He breathlessly exclaims, waving a newspaper around. “I am terribly sorry for the interruption, but this is urgent, and you were preoccupied today.”
“It’s alright.” Neuvillette dabs at his mouth with a napkin and stands, quietly approaching the disoriented man. “You may relax. What is it?”
“This, sir.” The man hands over the newspaper, and Neuvillette accepts it, curiously straightening it out and beginning to read the front page. “We’ve no idea how or when this was taken, and it’s all over the headlines—”
“[Name]. You must see this.” The absence of emotion in the tone of his voice sends a jarring chill down your spine and you quickly stand, making your way toward him. “What’s wrong?”
He silently hands the paper to you, and you feel your stomach plummet at the sight of the front page.
“Chief Justice Neuvillette caught with mystery woman on Tuesday evening. Is the ever-impartial Iudex not so impartial anymore?” You shakily read out the words, turning to look up at him with wide eyes. “This was when you were walking me home a few days ago. We didn’t even notice! I thought the street was empty.”
He lays a firm hand on your shoulder, giving a soft, comforting squeeze. “Don’t panic. I know how to twist this to our advantage. It is too early, yes, and this could become a major problem, but we mustn’t worry.” The Chief Justice gently pries the newspaper from your trembling hands, and you stare at the ground. “I think you’d best turn in for the night, [Name]. We shall discuss this in the morning.”
“It’s not like I’ll sleep anyway,” you mutter, shoulders slumped. “Alright. I’ll do as you say. But first thing tomorrow morning, we will talk about this.”
He extracts his hand from you, and you attempt to give him a reassuring smile. “Have a good evening, Neuvillette. Relay my thanks to the chef about the food for me, please.”
Neuvillette answers with a quiet “I will” before you exit the dining room, making your way back to your bedroom.
I’m sure it’s just a minor setback, you think you’re going to throw up. He’ll take care of it. He said he would.
But maybe this was the first of things to go awry.
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hello hello, I am finally back with chapter nine <3
sorry for the two-week wait guys, it's been hectic. I have family coming up for Christmas and little time to Christmas shop, AND I got hit by a writer's block. also im so sorry if you were expecting a longer chapter because of the lengthy wait. I just couldn't be bothered to write as much this time 💔
and I did say two chapters before Christmas, but im gonna have to go back on that one too. in fact, this is the last chapter until january. I need a break haha. I hope you guys understand.
and if anything didn't make sense in this chapter, please attribute it towards my sleep deprivation. it hasn't gotten any less worse 💔
taglist!
@shiroonekoo @just-here-reading @avyakaslana @eternal-dokja @confusedparticle @xitrinez @tanspostsblog @vcatson @sek0ya @loving-august @mxyarylla @ultigoblin @constantlyoverthinking @pvbbyb0y @lynettezzp @esthelily @furblrwurblr @sangoqueenkoko
well, then, everyone. I wish you all a very merry Christmas (if you celebrate it) and a happy new year! I can't wait to continue this story with you all next year 💕
thank you all, and until 2024.
© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works
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opencommunion · 1 month
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"Dead are my people, gone are my people, but I exist yet, lamenting them in my solitude. Dead are my friends, and in their death my life is naught but great disaster. The knolls of my country are submerged by tears and blood, for my people and my beloved are gone, and I am here living as I did when my people and my beloved were enjoying life and the bounty of life, and when the hills of my country were blessed and engulfed by the light of the sun. My people died from hunger, and he who did not perish from starvation was butchered with the sword; and I am here in this distant land, roaming amongst a joyful people who sleep upon soft beds, and smile at the days while the days smile upon them. My people died a painful and shameful death, and here am I living in plenty and in peace. This is deep tragedy ever enacted upon the stage of my heart; few would care to witness this drama, for my people are as birds with broken wings, left behind the flock. If I were hungry and living amid my famished people, and persecuted among my oppressed countrymen, the burden of the black days would be lighter upon my restless dreams, and the obscurity of the night would be less dark before my hollow eyes and my crying heart and my wounded soul. For he who shares with his people their sorrow and agony will feel a supreme comfort created only by suffering in sacrifice. And he will be at peace with himself when he dies innocent with his fellow innocents. But I am not living with my hungry and persecuted people who are walking in the procession of death toward martyrdom. I am here beyond the broad seas living in the shadow of tranquillity, and in the sunshine of peace. I am afar from the pitiful arena and the distressed, and cannot be proud of ought, not even of my own tears. What can an exiled son do for his starving people, and of what value unto them is the lamentation of an absent poet?
Were I an ear of corn grown in the earth of my country, the hungry child would pluck me and remove with my kernels the hand of Death form his soul. Were I a ripe fruit in the gardens of my country, the starving women would gather me and sustain life. Were I a bird flying the sky of my country, my hungry brother would hunt me and remove with the flesh of my body the shadow of the grave from his body. But, alas! I am not an ear of corn grown in the plains of Syria, nor a ripe fruit in the valleys of Lebanon; this is my disaster, and this is my mute calamity which brings humiliation before my soul and before the phantoms of the night. This is the painful tragedy which tightens my tongue and pinions my arms and arrests me usurped of power and of will and of action. This is the curse burned upon my forehead before God and man.
And oftentimes they say unto me, the disaster of your country is but naught to calamity of the world, and the tears and blood shed by your people are as nothing to the rivers of blood and tears pouring each day and night in the valleys and plains of the earth. Yes, but the death of my people is a silent accusation; it is a crime conceived by the heads of the unseen serpents. It is a sceneless tragedy. And if my people had attacked the despots and oppressors and died rebels, I would have said, 'Dying for freedom is nobler than living in the shadow of weak submission, for he who embraces death with the sword of Truth in his hand will eternalize with the Eternity of Truth, for Life is weaker than Death and Death is weaker than Truth.' If my nation had partaken in the war of all nations and had died in the field of battle, I would say that the raging tempest had broken with its might the green branches; and strong death under the canopy of the tempest is nobler than slow perishment in the arms of senility. But there was no rescue from the closing jaws. My people dropped and wept with the crying angels. If an earthquake had torn my country asunder and the earth had engulfed my people into its bosom, I would have said, 'A great and mysterious law has been moved by the will of divine force, and it would be pure madness if we frail mortals endeavoured to probe its deep secrets.' But my people did not die as rebels; they were not killed in the field of battle; nor did the earthquake shatter my country and subdue them. Death was their only rescuer, and starvation their only spoils.
My people died on the cross. They died while their hands stretched toward the East and West, while the remnants of their eyes stared at the blackness of the firmament. They died silently, for humanity had closed its ears to their cry. They died because they did not befriend their enemy. They died because they loved their neighbours. They died because they placed trust in all humanity. They died because they did not oppress the oppressors. They died because they were the crushed flowers, and not the crushing feet. They died because they were peace makers. They perished from hunger in a land rich with milk and honey. They died because monsters of hell arose and destroyed all that their fields grew, and devoured the last provisions in their bins. They died because the vipers and sons of vipers spat out poison into the space where the Holy Cedars and the roses and the jasmine breathe their fragrance. My people and your people, my Syrian Brothers, are dead. What can be done for those who are dying? Our lamentations will not satisfy their hunger, and our tears will not quench their thirst; what can we do to save them between the iron paws of hunger? My brother, the kindness which compels you to give a part of your life to any human who is in the shadow of losing his life is the only virtue which makes you worthy of the light of day and the peace of the night. Remember, my brother, that the coin which you drop into the withered hand stretching toward you is the only golden chain that binds your rich heart to the loving heart of God."
Gibran Khalil Gibran, "Dead Are My People," written during the Great Famine of Mount Lebanon, in which 200,000 people were starved to death by a blockade imposed by European forces to weaken their Ottoman opponents in World War I. The man-made famine killed one in three people in Beirut and the surrounding Mount Lebanon Mutasarrifate (which encompassed today's North, Keserwan-Jbeil, and Mount Lebanon governorates). This peasant population was strangled by threefold oppression: from the European imperialist war machine, Ottoman Turkish imperial oversight, and the local capitalist class. The boom and bust of the global silk industry, monopolized by France, destroyed Mount Lebanon's silk-centered economy shortly before the war, leaving the population impoverished and vulnerable. The famine was key to the European victory which led to the occupation and partition of the Levant and enabled the colonization of Palestine. The partition placed Lebanon under French control, fulfilling a longstanding French colonial desire for Lebanese land and labor.
Further reading/listening: Graham Auman Pitts, "Was Capitalism the Crisis? Mount Lebanon's World War I Famine" and "A Hungry Population Stops Thinking About Resistance: Class, Famine, and Lebanon's World War I Legacy" Kais Firro, "Silk and Agrarian Changes in Lebanon, 1860-1914" Melanie Tanielian, "The War of Famine: Everyday Life in Wartime Beirut and Mount Lebanon (1914-1918)" and The Charity of War: Famine, Humanitarian Aid, and World War I in the Middle East The Fire These Times, Lina Mounzer and Timour Azhari, Legacy of the Great Lebanon Famine (audio)
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pielcanala · 9 months
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Lovers Rock
Pairing: Any link (but written with BOTW and TOTK in mind)/ reader(gn)
genre: Angst
Word Count: 523
. .  •   ☆  .  °  . •  ° : .  * ₊  °  .  ☆
“ Link do you think that- “ You paused. Link Looked at you with his full attention; casting away the sword that he had started polishing. The campfire illuminated his eyes as he looked at you. Something about his eyes was intense. It was different from the way he looked at Zelda. There was hunger; almost this sense of yearning that you couldn’t help but notice. 
He looked so beautiful from your view. You couldn't help but shamelessly stare at him. He was almost hunched over, as if to hear you better, with his body leaning into you. His hair framed his face and cascaded over his shoulders. Had his hair always been this long? You cleared your throat before you noticed anything more. 
“Do you think that, once this whole calamity is over and you defeat Ganon, we could live together? “ You mumbled. You fully expected some type of acknowledgment, only to be met with deafening silence. His expression had changed ever so slightly; His eyebrows were only raised and his eyes slightly more open. You immediately looked to your side. 
“ I mean like, live a normal life together and like have a house you know? We could renovate that rundown place you have back in Hateno- Unless you don’t want to! That would be totally fine and I could just-” You tried to backtrack. You looked back quickly at him before slowly quieting down. His mouth opened, trying to say something, but nothing came out.​​ There was a sense of longing in his expression. Of wanting but not quite having it in his grasp. 
It was like time had stopped for both of you. The background noise was replaced with the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You balled up your fists and tensed up. You felt like you couldn’t breathe at all. 
Your sudden change in mood and posture did not go unnoticed by Link. Who, by this time, had begun to silently freak out. He didn’t mean to make you insecure in your question. He longed to say yes to you. He yearned for a future with you. A future in which the two of you were happy, in which you two could breathe and just live. He wanted that soppy domestic life with you. He would retire from being a knight and become a writer, blacksmith, chef, shop owner, or tavern keeper just for you. 
But that wasn’t possible. He knew that, deep down in his very being, he knew that. He could never become the doting husband, never have that life, and he could never have you.
“ Link? “ You questioned. Now looking directly into his eyes. His eyes, which were once so cold, had turned glassy in a matter of seconds. You waited for his response. Right as you were about to change the topic he spoke.
“ I wish I was someone else… someone who need not say goodbye “ His voice was shaky and vulnerable. He looked down at his sword. Silence fell upon both of you as you stayed unmoving. 
In every universe, Link falls for you, and in every universe, it never works out.
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I’m sorry if my english is bad (it’s not my first language haha). This is my first post! I hope you guys liked it!!!
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captainjacklyn · 4 months
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So this is part two of my first sagau post, I could turn this in a more detailed fic but knowing that it'll remain in my drafts to catch dust. I think I'll go against it and just give brief ideas for anyone who doesn't have my procrastination problem.
Now I was pretty vague about the other Primordials who watch over different realms as well as Teyvat. But I decided to give them their respective names and personalities (I suppose you can consider them OCs?) just so that we don't get too confused about the whole thing..
For a first born you have Barabath, at current times he's now an empty shell. He was the first realm to ever be created by you, born from an explosion of gas. And out of it poured a thousand dragons who all drank the fire of the first ever sun And yes I did steal that part from game of thrones, sue me. Each every one of them proceeded to descend upon their respective home, all seven of them forged from calamity. The world inhabited Erkanos (guardian of the earth), Belzo (guardian of the sky & stars), Lystéria (guardian of air & moisture), Akarnis (guardian of life), Erghyr (guardian of the mind), Steparyd (guardian of magic) and Valvers (guardian of decay). A war erupted between these gigantic yet majestic beast after your physical descent upon the lands. Their abilities were so great that it only doomed the realm after their final attack annihilated all that was left.
The second child did not end up passing like the former, you had managed to save him when disaster struck upon him. His name is Larbosa, and he is known as the god of wisdom, strength and honor. It was then that the first humans were created. So when you descended once more, they welcomed you with joy and love. But as centuries passed and wars for conquering broke out, people forgot about their creator to the point where all you became was a prize to win. You were sheltered in one of the old temples, its priestesses looked after you every passing millennium. Not as their creator, but as a simple individual who needed a place to stay. You were subsequently sold off to marry a warlord (do you see where this is going?), had three sons with him (whatever your gender is doesn't matter cause you are quite literally capable of anything), he passed, you took over, fell in love with a mortal who devoted him to you, he died, your mortal sons all perished in battle and once the people captured you, they dubbed you AN IMPOSTOR AND DISGRACE TO THE ALMIGHTY THEMSELF you were beheaded.
...
Yuh.
So what your children do when you die is that, your body will disintegrate and just turn into nothing. Then in order to in a sence 'reincarnate' you back into god hood, the realm needs to open itself and sacrifice its own part of you to rebuild you. You saved him because, you're the primordial why could you not, the first son is dead and you learn from your mistakes as a parent/jk. Larbosa is righteous and dutiful, as the second ever world to be created he takes great responsibility in aiding you. Most of the acolytes who follow him learn how to live a life of authority and perseverance through hard work. Like his second sister, he either speaks when spoken to or whenever something needs to be told. Dude is protective, will shove his arm so far up an enemy's ass it'll reach out of their mouth and wear them like a sleeve.
...Yarrhh I'm not cool today.
THIRD KID- THIS ONES A WOMAN! We have Alysia, goddess of love, beauty, and hatred. She's heavily based off of Hathor from Ennead, Aphrodite and Hera with a double personality. Because on one side she is the embodiment of what the 'ideal woman' was expected to be back in the olden days but on the other, her negative side goes against that entire facade of purity. One thing that she favors above anything else is lust, she loves toying with mortals and sees them as beings beneath her. Meanwhile you look after them like your own infants and it's something she uses to manipulate said mortals whenever they go against her judgement. Although she is is typically bright and cheery in public, she easily becomes flustered, particularly around strong beings, or when awkward situations occur. She does indeed become furious when people disrespect her or when she doesn't get her way. The only one who she holds the greatest respect for is her creator YOU, she is highly protective of YOU and will get frustrated when people use her love for YOU as a way to blackmail her. Alysia deeply cherishes her siblings though she has a tendency to call her younger sister a heartless little sh- they all get along, especially with Larbosa.
Second daughter I've mentioned in the past, holds the title of Cymbalia. Her people were known for their truthful justifications and judgment. They knew not of the creator as you were afraid that showing yourself to its collectives would cause yet another loss. Cymbalia, however, was fully aware of her birth-giver’s existence so she chose to be reborn in order to regain their godhood. Though she continued to watch over her people. This had been the first realm to survive complete wipe out but at the cost of being ignorant to your love for them. Cymbalia is mainly stern and focused, and she also often stands up to other powerful gods, like the former : Alysia or Larbosa. She isn’t afraid to speak her mind and utter her words of judgement at any given situation, this trait isn’t appreciated by her older sister who considers her a stickler for the rules. Cymbalia speaks in a assertive tone to display her power to those around her, whether it be a younger sibling or a simple acolyte. She can get especially irritating when commanding people, blackmailing them into obeying her orders. Strangely enough, she favors souls that go against the rules to reach new lengths, people like Il Dottore who quite literally break the laws of life. Goddess of Harmony, Truth and Justice.
Rhymar was the fourth attempt, once again unsuccessful. It only inhabited dry land with no life whatsoever, Rhymar felt insanely bored and began creating their own creatures which unfortunately resulted in a never ending time loop. You tried to help your child but Rhymar ended up insisting on their plans pushing its boundaries so far that the realm began to close in on itself (this was when the multiverse was created, Rhymar controlled the essence of time within himself and could rewind any event they deemed unfruitful). Leaving you no choice but to rebirth them and have their being ascend into godhood as well. Rhymar is quite sarcastic and unfazed, they are more sassy than straightforward. This was shown when you once tried to cheer up Alysia by telling her that she was doing a wonderful job but Rhymar had a change of heart and instead commented with : “I’d say no.” making their older sister feel terrible. Unafraid of defying the rules simply because they feel like doing so, Rhymar was baptized as the troublemaker in the family. When needing to apologize for anything they are stubborn enough to refuse unless their mother comes to them, requesting otherwise. They're the youngest kid, the most chaotic and the god of God of abundance, fertility and foresight.
so..
yeah.
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