#DEVOTION IS NOT LOVE. THEY GO HAND I. GAND

[nanamimizz]

camelia with diluc…wah…

a/n ; writing this one for u first as a congrats on ur final mwah.

cw ; fem!reader (referred to as girl / other gendered language), yandere

C - Camellia (devotion, perfection): “You know I’d do anything for you, right? My love knows no limits.”

You are not naive.

At least, not anymore. You think you had been once. The first time you'd travelled alone to the city and let your eye catch on the silhouette of Diluc Ragnvindr - there was a breath of innocence to you that served you well. A foolish young thing with big dreams and hopes.

The city of Mondstadt, the city of freedom. It called to you. A restricted thing raised in a place with green pastures and roads unpaved for miles and miles on end. You didn't know then that cities eat girls like you slowly but surely. Like lambs chewing on sharpened grass blades. Red can so often look like green if you're blind enough to the color.

A big place like that would swallow you tenderly.

A man like Diluc felt out of reach the first time you met him. A job at the tavern to help pay the bills - that's all. Your boss was a kind man to you even then. He talked in short, curt sentences but always paid you on time and escorted the first hand that came up to harass you. He told you to look after yourself a bit more.

Pretty, young girls like you are always in danger, he'd said. Be careful, and keep something on you.

Through gossip pages and newspapers and the words of his brother—who frequented the bar often when Diluc was absent— you learned of his legend. A dark knight, and unspoken hero. The shadow of Mondstat named Diluc. What a wonderful thing to be so dedicated to any cause. You'd always admired people like that, with something to believe in so much they'd give their life for it.

You were a simple girl is all. A quiet life, with a lover that adores you and open land. A life where you could roam freely with nothing to restrict you. Once upon a time, you think this what you'd sought most. Meeting Diluc fueled your wishful thinking - the price of hopeless romanticism was drawn in by a handsome face and a characteristic gruffness.

Naive girls always fall in love with men who are kind enough. Such a thing suits you perfectly. Diluc always paid attention to you but it became clear it was no longer your imagination playing tricks of you.

He was always a gentleman. Still is. Even though lately you're unsure if the world outside is safe enough to step foot in it. When Diluc greets you, he kisses the place your shoulder meet your neck and smooths his hands over your hips.

He is an adoring, kind man. And once, many years before this, you were almost eager to turn a blind eye to all the signs of his devotion - as raw as the symbol of Pyro hanging from his waist. The smell of iron on his fingers when he brings your chin up to peer at you, or the stains on his jacket. The scent of death, of violence that hung over him like a cloak. How long had it remained there? How long would it persist?

(Sometimes, you'd wondered if your children would bear it just as much as he did. Loving too much, can it be passed through blood?)

The long nights that turn into cold beds in the morning. The sudden disappearances of men at the bars. Regulars who'd only ever flirt with you in jest - gone. Nothing in their absence other than silence, and the presence of your lover shining glasses. Devotion is not the same as love, not exactly. Though they're similar, and they go hand in hand - like how can a devoted man not love something wholly.

Devotion can be a sinister thing. As such, you think Diluc is devoted to you. When you catch the glint of his claymore in the moonlight on your way home, you shield yourself. You close your eyes and ears to last wails. You remember that man. He was a drunkard and so brutish. It's funny how the timbre of his voice sounds so shrill on deaths door.

You are no longer a naive girl. Diluc comes home the following morning - a pleasant smile and a gentle hand.

"Go wash up," You say, heart pounding. He nods, kisses your forehead "And leave your dress shirt in the basin, will you?"

He looks at you fondly. Devotedly and oh so sinister you want to look away.

"You know I'd do anything for you, right?" He says, not often giving you intense verbal affection "My love for you knows no limits."

You believe him. So much it is painful. You tremble as you kiss him. If he can taste your heartbeat on his tongue, it must please him "Of course I know. How could I not?"

[im-fairly-whitty]

do you think its bad that im 17 and still havent had my first kiss, or even held hands with a boy? I’ve had crushes, and gone on some dates, but it never ends up working out. I know im still young and got time to find someone who loves me one day, but i’m always so jealous of people in relationships or when they talk about all the cute things they do together. I think im just in love with love, but no one feels the same way about me as i do about them.

Well, I’m not super sure why you’ve come to me Anon, but you know what, I feel ya, so let’s talk.

First of all, seventeen is a really weird age. It’s the last year before you’re “an adult” (which by the way, I’ll be 24 next month and I still don’t feel very adultish sometimes) and so there’s a lot of pressure to have lived your teenage dreams already before you pack up and ship out to whatever comes after high school. You’ve survived 14 and 15 and 16, meaning you’ve dealt with a lot of crap and survived, making you feel like you’ve gotten the kind of life experience necessary to reach that mysterious level of “understanding life,” like the grownups always talk about.

And to a degree, yeah. Seventeen was the first time I remember actually seeing the world around me and being like “huh, okay, so this is life. I’ve arrived.” It was my mental “save point” for a long time, where I always assumed in my mind that I was seventeen for the next few years because that was an important personal milestone in my self-awareness.

But that said, seventeen is so so young. It’s making my bones creak to type this, but being seven years past seventeen has given me an awful lot of perspective on just how young it really is. You’re aware of the world around you and of yourself, but you’ve only just stepped up to the starting line of adulthood my friend. You’re just getting to the end of your Life Tutorial before level one really starts.

And I’m not saying that like it’s a bad thing, it’s actually a really exciting thing because you have SO many crazy and brilliant and amazing things ahead of you that you haven’t even dreamed up yet, because that’s just how life works. But also be aware that most media targeted at teenagers presents the best years of your life as being contained within your high school years.

Every Disney channel show and even most movies with teenage characters feature guys and gals who have established their personal aesthetic, have discovered their calling in life, have established their friends and enemies, and who most importantly have found their true love, or at the very least have had some very sweet romance experience. All before graduating high school.

This is not real. Life does not work that way. More often than not it’s during college years that you really learn to be comfortable in your own skin, and even then you keep changin gand changing as the years go by, what you do in high school will look laughably inconsequential to you several years from now as long as you did your best and kept your nose clean  

But in the moment, when you see other teenagers around you who seem to have this Disney channel dream, it can be tempting to assume that you’re missing out and panic, but it’s important to remember that:

1. Even popular kids and teenagers in relationships feel like their lives are a mess. That’s just what being a teenager is, no one escapes that.

2. Relationships in high school is usually a special kind of train wreck that just teaches you different life lessons, not necessarily better ones. Even when it’s a healthy relationship, just by virtue of the fact that you’re both hormone happy teens trying their hardest to figure things out.

Is it “bad” that you haven’t kissed or held hands with a boy yet? Nah. I hadn’t either when I was your age, but I’ve had relationships and physical affection since then and even though the wait was maddening, when I finally got there I didn’t feel like I’d “missed out,” because I realized it would have been bad timing for me personally to have had a relationship earlier than that.

Is it normal to be jealous of people who are in relationships? Yeah. That’s like literally the most human thing ever. Go ahead and cut yourself some slack for that one, it’s totally normal and doesn’t go away, even though you learn to handle it better after your teen years. (Kinda like acne.) 

I really like what you said about “I think I’m just in love with love,” because that shows a really admirable level of self-awareness. You recognize that what you’re craving maybe isn’t the actual person of affection, but the experience of affection. That’s a super normal desire, it’s all the chemicals and hormones in your brain shifting into their places as you mature and saying “you know what sounds great? some emotional commitment and physical devotion. that sounds really nice.”

It’s not your soul crying out because it is incomplete without another person to validate you with kisses. It’s not your value as a human dropping with every moment that your hand goes unheld. It’s literally your brain wanting to try out the new romance extension pack it just installed in your brain and getting mad because it wants to try out all the new levels.

Which is to say, go ahead and relax. It feels like a lot of pressure in your head, but it’s really all in your head. You’re right, you are young, and you have literal decades ahead of you to find people who you click with in a romantic way. 

Most of those people will be temporary, and you’ll learn something from each of them, but keep focusing on developing yourself as an individual in the meantime so that when you do meet “Mr. Right” you’ll have developed yourself into the strong and confident person that will be able to build a beautiful relationship with them that can last. And it will last because you will have had the patience to wait for someone who is a real match for you, instead of just settling for someone who will give you physical affection.

Keep on keeping on Anon, being single sucks sometimes, I know, but you’ve got a whole lot of great coming up in your future that doesn’t hinge on having a significant other. 

So enjoy loving and building yourself for now. Let the good things come to you as you strive to become the best you that you can be.

[dimenovelsfromoblivion]

Causes

The mechanical gate slid unlocked, and a procession of black armored vehicles sped out from behind the walls of the luxury fortress. Tucked away, in what was theoretically the safest place in the convoy was Senator Taylor and his guide the Grand Councilor Sharbo. Sharbo was tall with a complexion that was dark relatively speaking but still a shade that the senator wasn’t sure if the dignitary could be considered black or not. Usually, he could rely on geography to clarify this very thing, but this knowledge of this part of the world was murky at best.

Taylor was on the last slide down from his all night bender with a modern geisha who had traded in the traditional dress for an alluring little black number with a skirt that was wrapped tight around the thighs but still high enough where it was no problem pulling it over her hips. She hadn’t even woken up when Taylor’s security detail came for him. He was hoping she’d decide to stick around for his last night in the country. The shops and apartments quickly melted away into endless desolation that stretched in all direction, merging with the sullen gray sky in the gloomy horizon. Rain drops began gently tapping on the window. One, two, then 4, then 8 in a few seconds they were driving through a downpour.

“I apologize the wheater isn’t better,” Sharbo said his lips emerged as a smile in his bushy beard.

“It’s alright,” Taylor shrugged.

“You should see in the summer. That’s when it is most beautiful,” the councilor said proudly.

“Yeah I’ll have to see it when I get the chance,” Taylor replied.

“The weather is usually like this around this time,” Sharbo explained. “I remember when I was a boy maybe nine or ten years of age my father used to take us…

Sharbos words were slowly drowned out by the sound of the rain rolling over the roof of the car. A slight haze clouded everything in the Senator's dimming field of vision. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. He struggled to maintain eye contact with his host and nodded every time there was a lull in his anecdote. Taylor’s jaw slackened, and he felt his head slowly falling below his shoulders.

“But that’s usually how it goes isn't it?” Sharbo laughed.

Taylor smiled “Very true,” he said with a nod.

“Ah, here we are,” said Sharbo.

Taylor looked out the window. They were coming up to a cluster of shanties. Taylor was thrown back against the seat by a sudden bump in the road.

“My apologies Senator we haven’t been able to repair all the damage from the shells yet,” Sharbo explained.

He VIPs and their mercenary guard detail surveyed the war torn village from behind tinted glass. The plated vehicles bounced in the rain filled shell crater splashing the stagnated murky mixture splashing up like a geyser. The village was a cluster of dilapidated concrete blocks eroded by years of neglect and war. The echo of the wind as it rushed through barren corridors of the abandoned derelicts carried out into the empty streets.

“The war has devastated our country,” Sharbo said in a solemn tone.

Whether by instinct or training sorrow was an emotion Tayor worked with best. “Your country’s suffering hasn’t gone unnoticed by us,” Taylor assured him.

“We are barely holding on against their relentless attacks. Some nights I’m afraid to sleep because I think when I wake up the capital will be in enemy hands and I will have to leave the home I love. I know this place doesn't look like much to you but we are putting all our strength into defending the democracy we have, and anything in this world that is a force for peace and freedom in this world is worth preserving,” Sharbo said concluding his rousing monologue.

“Your determination and devotion to your people is nothing short of inspiring Gand Counselor,” Taylor declared emotionally, but I have to look out for the well being and best interests of my people as well.” Taylor reminded him.

The car came to a stop. Taylor had been dreading this stop on tour.

“Senator Taylor I can tell you are a just and prudent man and I admire that.”

“Well, thank you, counselor, that means a lot to me,”

“But I think you need to see the faces of those who this war is really hurting,” said Sharbo.

The clinic was a two story cinder block building. According to Sharbo, it was the only full fledged medical facility in the region. Senator Taylor wasn’t too anxious to see the horrific scenes of gore that were sure to be going on within the walls of the war zone's sole triage ward, but he was determined to get it over with as quickly as possible.

His hangover suddenly seemed to vanish, and he swung into action with renewed vigor. He methodically prepared himself for the public spectacle he was about to act out. He rolled up his sleeves, combed his hair back, and put on a downcast but determined expression.

“Alright get one of me out front,” he shouted to the people in his scrambling entourage.

“Right here Senator,” a young assistant said before snapping a picture of Taylor looking both contemplative and mournful.

“Alright write up a caption and tweet it asap,” Taylor ordered as he flashed a smile at the young blonde holding the camera.

Flanked by his security detailed and followed by a swarm of assistants, advisors, interns, and photographers. They stormed the entrance of the clinic and jammed up the doors. Taylor’s feet went cold when he saw the rows of beds filled with mutilated patients. A doctor with a neatly trimmed beard and dark brown eyes and a nurse with her hair tied up and covered in surgical hair net were waiting to greet him.

“Mr. Senator I’m doctor Tahari. It is an honor to meet you. The doctor said extending his hand.

Taylor quickly glanced at the doctor’s hand to make sure it was clean enough to shake.

“It’s good to meet you doctor Tahari,” The senator said gripping his hand and stepping in next to him and turning towards the crowd.

“Look at the camera,” said the senator.

Caught off guard Tahair awkwardly smiled before being blinded by a flash.

“How long have you been here?” Taylor asked before stepping over to take the nurse’s hand for a similar photo.

“3 years,” replied Tahari.

“You must have seen a lot of terrible suffering,” said Taylor.

“Yes, that’s true,” said Tahari. “But I have also seen plenty of hope emerging from the misery as well,”

“Yes, you coming here has renewed people’s hope that this violence can be ended soon,” the nurse declared.

“Well I was taught growing up to never turn your back on someone in need,” said Taylor continuing to pose for the circle of cameras.

“That’s not all,” Tahari interjected. “With your help, we can start working to restore the livelihood of our patients. We can make help them overcome what has happened to them and hopefully one day soon-

“I’m sorry doctor, but I’ve got to get going. Please brief my staff, and they’ll make sure I receive the relevant information. It was nice meeting both of you good luck, and God bless.” said Taylor as he turned to leave.

“Wait for Mr. Seantor!” The nurse shouted, and the whole room suddenly went quiet.

“There is someone who would really like to meet you.” she said.

Taylor was ready with an excuse “Well I-

“Here he comes,” said the nurse before he could finish.

The crowd parted, and there was a little boy, maybe of preschool age with short black hair and doughy brown eyes. His left leg was amputated just below the knee, and his pant leg was sewn up into a pouch around the stump. His face on the same side was blemished by a burn that had caused the flesh to bubble and char.  Everyone watched adoringly as he crutched his way over to the senator.

“This is Kameel,” said the nurse. “He just started walking again.”

“I wanted to be able to meet the hero who wants to make sure what happened to me never happens to any other children ever again,” said the boy in a tiny voice.

There was a collective awe. Taylor swallowed hard, and his eyes started to gleam with moisture. He took a knee and put his hand on the Kameel’s shoulder and waited for the sequence of camera flashes to finish. “Kameel you’re a brave little boy, and I’m going to do my best to make sure nothing like this ever happens to any other little boys and girls.” He took a deep breath and hugged the burned child to his chest but still kept his cheek from making any contact with the scorched tissue.”

Once the moment felt like it had been thoroughly documented the Senator stood up and said his goodbyes. He walked briskly back to his vehicle with Sharbo at his side.

“Councilor Sharbo after what happened in there I’m gonna be able to do a whole lot better on an aid package than 75 million,”

After the Senator’s caravan had sped away, everyone in the hospital sighed with relief.

“Alright everyone he’s gone! Great work!” The nurse said. There was a round of applause. The patients started getting out of bed and washing off their artificial wounds. Kameel unfolded his leg and stretched it out.

“That money is as good as ours,” the phony doctor said triumphantly.

“Damn right!” concurred the fake nurse. “Although I wonder if we even had to try as hard as we did?” she asked aloud.

That night Senator Taylor delivered a skype interview from his private jet.

“Their country may not be as developed as the US, but they are a force and freedom and democracy in this world. To me, that's always something worth fighting for,” were the words he signed off with and on that trite, millions of dollars in cash and military hardware became earmarked for a little country no one up until a few weeks ago had ever even heard of. The country and its people were a mirage. It existed only as a few social media accounts and as a set made out of the remnants of a remote and long abandoned mining town.

[unwritrecipes]

Chocolate Waffles

Wondering what to make for Valentine's Day breakfast? Chocolate waffles, of course! It'll win you all sorts of awards and duh, how better to show someone your undying love and devotion than serving them chocolate for breakfast?!!

Now on the off chance that you're thinking that chocolate waffles may be too "much" for the morning meal (as if there were ever a time when chocolate would not be appropriate!) no worries here, because though there is cocoa powder in the batter and these definitely have a chocolate-y flavor, they are not too sweet and very light (thanks to the beaten egg whites that get added to the batter) thus making them ideal for a.m. consumptiuon!! Plus, they have the added benefit of coming together easily and quickly with ingredients you most likely have on hand, so that you, the maker of these cuties, will not feel overly taxed and cranky on a day that is supposed to be filled with love and kind feelings towards those around you!! The waffles are amazing with just a dusting of powdered sugar and sliced strawberries but I would not say no to the one we topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream because "we had to see if they would be good with ice cream as well!!" even though it was well before noon!! It's all for research purposes, of course!

Anyone who loves chocolate will take one look (and bite) and transfer that chocolate love to you!! Can't wait for Valentine's Day!!

Chocolate Waffles

Makes 4 large waffles

Prep Time:  15 minutes, plus cooking time

Ingredients

2 large egg yolks

1 1/2 cups milk (I used whole milk but you could probably use 2% as well)

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 1/4 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour

1/4 cup good-quality, unsweetened cocoa powder

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

2 large egg whites

2 tablespoons light brown sugar

Fresh strawberries, confectioners' sugar, ice cream, yogurt, fresh whipped cream for serving (optional)

The Recipe

1.  In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, milk, baking powder, flour, cocoa and melted butter until almost smooth--don't over mix.

2.  In a separate bowl, use an electric mixer (if possible fitted with the whisk attachment) to beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Then add the brown sugar and beat again until stiff. Fold the whites into the chocolate batter using a rubber spatula.

3.  Heat a waffle iron and spray with nonstick cooking spray. Ladle or pour 3/4 cup of batter onto the iron and cook according to manufacturer's directions.

4.  Serve waffles with a dusting of powdered sugar and sliced berries or go more decadent and use whipped cream or ice cream.

Enjoy!

Note:  Recipe adapted from Gale Gand's Brunch!