#the comfort and pride i feel from seeing her embrace her heritage

[musubiki]

i think the most powerful final form for mochi timeskip outfit will embrace her witch nature 🖤

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (10/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: loss of virginity, dubcon, sex content, unprotected sex, oral sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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"Where are you?" She asked, looking down at the large family tree spread out in front of her face, lying comfortably between his legs, leaning against his hard torso. They were both bare; to her surprise, she quickly got rid of the feeling of embarrassment when he exposed her body.

The evenings in King's Landing were hot, so they were both relieved to be lying in the cool evening breeze on his bed, the back of her head resting against his shoulder. She heard him hum under his breath as he pointed his finger at one of the last lines which, indeed, was signed with his name.

Aemond Targaryen.

"And you are here." He added, moving his finger sideways to another line.

"Unbelievable." She said surprised, feeling for some reason joy and pride that she was included in this great lineage, somehow thinking that since her father had forgotten her, so had everyone else.

"You are a Targaryen. This is your heritage as well." He said lightly, leaning in, his full lips placing a soft, gentle kiss on her bare shoulder.

She swallowed hard, feeling pain at his words.

"My father would disagree with you." She said regretfully, tracing a line with her finger down from herself, to her father, to his father, and then to his grandfather.

She blinked, seeing that almost every one of them had married their sisters.

"Good gods." She muttered, going lower and lower, seeing that the pattern repeated surprisingly often.

She heard him chuckle behind her, his arms embracing her tighter around the waist.

"Brothers love their sisters. It's natural." He murmured, the tip of his long nose sinking into her soft cheek, his free hand slowly rising higher to squeeze her plump bosom.

He loved touching and looking at her breasts – his hands and mouth kept returning to them. He wouldn't let her cover them in his presence – they were clearly the most perfect example of femininity to him.

Their shape, their softness, the way they melted between his fingers in the morning when they slept in each other's embrace and he involuntarily sought them out with his hand made him purr like a cat.

She was also involuntarily learning other things that he clearly enjoyed with each passing day, though he never spoke of it aloud.

When they were outside, he liked her hair to be braided the way Visenya wore it according to legends, when her body was framed by a riding, leather garment, emphasising her girlish curves.

It stimulated his imagination, but also gave him a sense of closeness by the fact that they looked so similar.

As long as they were among other people, she never approached him or spoke to him first – even when she was practicing archery in the same courtyard where he and Criston Cole were sparring, she didn't disturb them.

She knew he didn't wish it – the example of Lady Floris had shown her what happened when someone kept invading his space and forced him into a proximity he wasn't comfortable with.

She felt his gaze on her, saw in his healthy eye that he was thinking only of what he had done to her during the night and what he would do to her in the evening, that he would summon her again, unable to deny himself the warmth of her body in his bed.

The situation changed completely when she crossed the threshold of his chamber and they were left alone behind a closed door.

He liked to sink his hands into her curls, so her hair had to be loose, on her body only her nightgown and a thin robe – he knew that no one but him had ever seen her in such a negligee, slowly slipping off all parts of her attire, leaving her bare and exposed at last.

It wasn't long before he was joining her, though then he was always vigilant and tense – most notably when she pulled off his eye patch. He watched her then with a stony face, as if for some reason he was afraid to see a smirk of mockery or anything else that would be proof that she was deceiving him, she, however, was entranced by the beautiful blue sapphire shining in his eye socket in the candlelight.

She loved untying the black ribbon from his long white hair.

"– you look like a demigod –" She whispered once without thinking as they lay side by side on his bed, looking at each other, panting heavily after their intense closeness.

She saw that he froze, his eye grew large in disbelief, his lips pressed into a thin line in shame.

"– what do you mean? –" He asked, lying on the bedclothes on his stomach as she did, their heads lying so close together that their noses were almost touching.

She lifted her hand and combed gently through strands of his smooth hair.

"– when your beautiful snow-white hair is loose – you look like some kind of heavenly being with your bright eyes – your face and muscular figure remind me of sculptures of ancient warriors carved in marble –" She muttered in shame, wondering what had occurred to her to say such a thing, her fingers ran over his cheekbone, her gaze fixed on his jaw.

She heard him swallow loudly, looking at her in a way she rarely saw, only when he was surprised and completely vulnerable – his pupil was large, his gaze warm, his expression gentle, his full lips parted slightly in disbelief.

She moved closer to him and cuddled her face into his shoulder, feeling like a fool after what she had said, thinking that he must surely have felt embarrassment at her words, that he would never let her stay in his bed again.

He, however, embraced her and snuggled her into his body, stroking her soft dark curls, her back and her buttocks with his broad hands, gently kissing the top of her head again and again.

He answered her nothing, but that night he did not allow her body to move away from his even a little, keeping her locked in his embrace – she smiled involuntarily feeling that each time he awoke he checked that she was covered in fur and brushed her shoulder with his fingertips, returning to sleep.

Although she had to get through the thick, high wall he had created around his heart each evening, their mornings were sweet and tender.

She was always awakened by the touch of his soft, moist lips on her forehead, his thumb stroking her cheek, his warm breath indicating that he had been awake for some time but wasn't going to get up for a while yet, wanting to enjoy her closeness.

"– hāedar –" He murmured at last, running his hand down her bare back, gliding his fingers as if he were treading water with them.

"– no – just a little longer –" She whispered pleadingly, and he merely hummed under his breath and cuddled her tighter into his chest, allowing her to remain in his embrace.

She usually left before the servants brought him his morning meal – she knew that he would probably let her eat with him if she so wished, it even seemed to her that a part of him would enjoy it, however, she did not want to cross the line.

There was more gossip about them than both of them would have liked anyway.

The fact that news was spreading through the Red Keep like the wind she saw in the displeased look Criston Cole turned towards her as she passed him in the corridor.

"Is the Prince hurting you, my Lady? He is frightening and cold in manner, I am afraid to look at him." Said Lysa, weaving her hair into a braid, her riding attire on her body as it was her turn to fly on patrol around King's Landing.

She involuntarily smiled at her words, feeling a pleasant pulsing between her thighs at the memory of what she had done to him the night before.

The sweet, boyish moan he had let out when he had come deep in her mouth.

She was convinced that she would eventually vomit or suffocate, shocked by the sensation and how much pleasure it gave him, his gaze full of disbelief and fulfilment, his tender arms that embraced her, his lips kissing her forehead.

Gōntan nyke ōdrikagon ao, zaldrītsos?

Did I hurt you, little dragon?

Little dragon.

She liked it when he called her that.

Little dragon, little sister, sweet girl.

He did it to reward her, when he wanted to be tender and gentle, when, satisfied and fulfilled, he fell asleep beside her in a warm bed.

"He doesn't hurt me. On the contrary, I enjoy the time spent in his company. Unlike Ser Criston Cole, who, it seems to me, despises me." She said lightly, casting her a meaningful glance in the reflection of the mirror.

Lysa blinked and furrowed her brow.

"Ser Criston should despise himself above all. He and the Queen only pretend to be humble and full of virtue by day, spending all their nights with each other." She said disapprovingly, and she involuntarily burst out laughing.

"How do you know such things?"

Lysa smiled mockingly.

"Servants know everything, my Lady. You at least don't pretend to be someone you're not." She said and paused as the door to her chamber opened suddenly.

Prince Aemond stepped inside with a confident, lazy stride, erect and proud, not even bestowing a single glance on Lysa.

"Leave us." He commanded, towering over her figure seated in a chair.

Lysa bowed to him, pale, and left quickly without a word.

She blinked, looking straight into his face without fear, waiting for him to convey to her what he had come to her with.

"Today I will be patrolling the skies. We have received reports that a dragon has been seen nearby. It will be safer if me and Vhagar check it first." He said calmly, and she nodded, thinking he didn't need to explain himself to her or come in his own person to tell her this.

He could have simply sent his servant to her.

But he decided otherwise, and she didn't mind.

"Very well. So I will stay and repeat what you taught me last night." She said softly, smiling involuntarily when she saw that his pupil had turned dark, his lips parted slightly at the memory of what she had done to him.

He knew she had teased him.

He took a step towards her, and then another, making her have to lift her head higher to look at his face. She swallowed quietly, feeling a pleasant shiver run through her warm cunt as he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, looking at her as if he was thinking about something.

"Alone? How will you know you're not making the same mistakes? Who will guide you?" He asked softly, cocking his head to the side, his breath deeper and louder.

She looked down and saw that even though the material of his tunic covered that part of his body, his erection had swollen all over, forming a bulge.

She swallowed hard as she saw his hands slide down to his belt, which he undid with a loud click and then did the same to the buckles of his tunic, causing her to breathe louder and louder, feeling both terror and arousal at the same time.

"– do not fret – easy – I acted a little exaggerated last night – you surprised me –" He gasped, untying his breeches with his long fingers, releasing his hard, swollen manhood.

It seemed absurd to her, but his words soothed her.

For some reason, she knew he regretted letting his emotions take over.

She leaned in, gently grasping the base of his throbbing cock, the skin of it soft and delicate, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the pink head of it.

He sighed, sinking the fingers of his hands into her hair, holding her close to his lower abdomen, rubbing his length against her face – she slid her tongue out, running the tip of it over the skin of his fat erection, and he swallowed loudly, trying not to make any humiliating sound.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, thinking in the back of her mind that he had taken a bath before he came to her – she felt the pleasant, warm throbbing of her womanhood coming to the satisfying conclusion that he had planned this.

He was unable to last into the evening.

"– mmm – yes – just like that – take your time –" He whispered, as if how gentle, slow and tender her caresses were gave him even more pleasure, the thought that she wasn't doing this out of obligation, that she wasn't disgusted by him or despised him.

No.

Her feelings for him were complicated, but deep.

She opened her eyes as her lips traveled up his erection, squeezing it at the root with lazy, sure strokes from which it hardened like rock – she met his eyes, his gaze hot and misty, his lips parted wide in an exasperated breath.

He wanted it, she could feel it in the soft roll of his hips, begging wordlessly for her to let him inside her.

She closed her eyes and spread her mouth wide, leaning lower – she heard his loud sigh as the tip of his length hit the back of her throat. His fingers clenched tighter in her hair, responding to her movements as she began to suck on his manhood, following his advice breathing loudly through her nose in an attempt to control her gag reflex.

His hips began to force his erection deep between her moist lips with slow, steady thrusts, as if he wanted to savour what he was just looking at, her tongue trailing lazily over the delicate structure of his manhood full of his pulsing veins.

"– yes – oh, gods, hāedar –" He exhaled, tilting his head back, speeding up involuntarily with a loud grunt of delight, his thick cock throbbing all over in her mouth, disappearing between them again and again with loud clicks of her saliva.

She could have hurt him, she could have bitten him, squeezed him harder and caused him pain, humiliated him, destroyed him as a lover and a man.

But she didn't.

She was wet.

Her hand began to stroke the base of his manhood harder when she felt it begin to pulse aggressively deep in her throat, clearly close to fulfillment.

"– fuck – fuck, don't stop, don't stop –" He muttered, panting loudly, chasing his peak, his hips with sharp, fast thrusts slamming between her swollen, wet lips with her moan of exertion.

She felt tears run down her cheeks, one of her hands clenched on his cock and the other on the material of his tunic, thinking that she would endure this, that she would give him what he desired and fulfill his fantasy.

"– y-yes – yes, gods, swallow, swallow, swallow –" He commanded with a loud groan of pleasure, and she felt his seed spill over her tongue – this time she knew what to expect and immediately swallowed his spend, and then again and again, breathing hard through her nose, feeling her heart pounding like mad.

His release was sticky and slightly salty, like nothing she'd ever tasted before.

It tasted like sin.

His hips stilled between her lips, his half-hard manhood throbbing greedily deep in her mouth while they both breathed hard, trying to calm themselves. She heard him swallow hard and then he gently slid his length out of her with a loud smack.

She didn't know why she tightened her hands on his back and hugged herself to his stomach, why she felt warmth when he froze and then embraced her slowly, snuggling her into him, stroking her hair with his fingers.

"– I haven't wasted a drop this time –" She cooed, smiling with amusement and she heard him snort with laughter, surprised apparently by her directness and the fact that his approach didn't scare her at all.

"– indeed – I'm afraid I'm going to make more use of those moist lips – and in return –" He gasped and didn't finish, running his fingertips over her bare neck making her leaking, twitching cunt pulsate around nothing.

"– I'm wet –" She whispered and felt his manhood respond before he could react in any way, throbbing hard, pushing between her breasts.

"– how much? –" He breathed out, clamping his fingers down on her flesh, as if her words meant he couldn't just leave it like that.

"– very much, lēkia – my womanhood is all soaked and pulsing with pain –" She mumbled, snuggling into him tighter, feeling her nipples harden all over at her own words.

In a moment, he lifted her from her seat and pushed her onto the table, forcing her to lie down on it – it wasn't a comfortable position, but she didn't think much of it when she spread her thighs in front of him and let his hands undo the ties of her breeches.

He leaned over her, looking down at her with his lips parted in lust, his gaze dark and filled with something that both terrified and attracted her at the same time – she moaned involuntarily, writhing before him and as he rested one hand against her head and slid the other under the material of her trousers, sinking his fingers into her leaking, swollen cunt.

"– quiet – good gods – so wet just from sucking my cock – you have no fucking shame –" He hissed coldly, and she threw her head back as his fingertips immediately pushed against her quivering slit, invading her insides, hitting her sweet spot again and again with aggressive, sharp thrusts.

"– oh gods, oh gods, ah, lēkia, yes –" She whimpered, clamping her hand on his arm wanting more, more, harder.

"– shut the fuck up –" He growled through clenched teeth, quickening his pace – she saw out of the corner of her eye, looking down, that his manhood was thick and hard again, sticking out from between the fabric of his breeches.

"– lēkia – help me – save me –" She mewled, feeling her hot, fleshy walls begin to tighten around his fingers, his sigh of satisfaction and desire making her feel that she was close, so close.

"– come on – soak my fingers – please your brother –" He breathed out and she came with a loud, girlish cry of delight, feeling tears of relief run down her face as wonderful waves of fulfilment shook her body, a pleasant tingling in her fingertips, her lips, her nipples and her throbbing, greedy cunt.

"– that's it – easy now – easy –" He hummed, just looking at her, holding his two fingers deep inside her, focusing on the way her warm flesh pulsed around them, soaking his whole hand.

She knew he would leave; she knew he had to, and perhaps it wasn't his desire at all but still the way his fingers slid out of her body, his look turned away as he knotted his breeches testifying that he was back in the fortress of his mind made her feel an uncomfortable ache in her heart.

"Come to my chamber tonight, as usual." He said, forcing himself to be indifferent, and left, leaving her lying on the table.

She closed her eyes and exhaled loudly, for some reason feeling tears under her eyelids.

She covered her face with her hand and burst into silent sobs.

Who was she?

His whore?

His lover?

His pet?

His object?

His whim?

She couldn't decide.

Whatever she did she would not be his sister.

Not really.

She swallowed hard and breathed deeply, wiping the warm wetness from her cheeks, trying to calm herself, thinking it didn't matter.

She was what he wanted her to be.

Nothing more.

Just when she was deciding she didn't care, the evening came, and then the night, and with it his hungry mouth sunk into her throbbing cunt, his tongue thrusting again and again deep inside her, building her way to her fulfilment.

His face above hers, his sapphire and eye fixed on her, soft strands of his hair teasing her cheeks before he leaned lower and his lips clung to hers in a sweet, soft, wet kiss.

They lay on their sides facing each other, cuddling their bodies into each other's in a tender, thirsty embrace, their lips finding each other in new, deep, soft caresses almost as if they cared for each other, almost as if they missed each other, almost as if they were happy.

Almost.

His broad hand ran over her hair and face, the tips of his fingers trailing over her cheekbone, jaw and neck, his gaze fixed on her, his lips slightly parted.

"– aōha laesi issi hae zōbrie hae lī hen iā myrdys (your eyes are as dark as those of a doe) – gevie (beautiful) –" He whispered, and she felt a squeeze in her heart and burning tears under her eyelids.

Don't do this to me, she thought.

Don't give me hope.

She snuggled into the hollow of his neck, drawing in the air loudly, not wanting him to see the tears running down her cheeks, and he simply kissed her bare shoulder, enclosing her in his embrace.

"– ȳdra limagon daor, zaldrītsos – aōha lēkia iksis kesīr –" He whispered, but his words only made her whoop with her own tears.

Do not cry, little dragon.

Your brother is here.

Gods, how she wished she could love him.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't offer him her heart because she knew he would crush it the moment he ripped it from her chest.

And then she unintentionally told him his mother's secret and saw his real face for the first time.

His tears, his despair, his figure curled up as if he were a infant in her arms.

She was horrified by how vulnerable he was.

How fragile he was.

She realised that the rider of the greatest dragon in the world was a scared little boy.

Some part of her wanted to protect him.

When the King summoned her to a meeting of the Small Council she wondered what had happened – she guessed it had something to do with Cole's and their army's march on Harrenhal, praying that it would turn out that his brother had told him everything, as she had requested.

As she stepped inside, her one-eyed cousin gave her a quick glance, a serenity in his healthy eye.

They both knew that she would spend this night in his bed too.

"What is this important matter that could not wait any longer?" The Queen Mother asked, and everyone's gaze turned to the King.

Aegon grunted and nodded, spreading himself comfortably in his chair at the head of the table.

"I wish to relieve our subjects who live in hunger. This fucking blockade has gone on for too long and I have decided to take measures to remedy it. Greyjoys are tactically avoiding choosing sides in this conflict, and only their fleet could face the Velaryons. In such situations, things are usually resolved through marriage. Lord Greyjoy has two sons, Toron and Rodrick, who are looking for a suitable candidate to marry. My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements."

She felt her heart stop for a moment as she looked at him dully, not believing that this was really happening.

My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

Here was her home.

Here, with him.

Alicent looked at her son, who was as shocked as she was, his eye and mouth wide open in panic.

Help me, she thought in her head, feeling her body begin to tremble.

Protect me.

"You knew it would end like this. Your irresponsible behaviour forced us to take the right steps." Queen Alicent said, and she clenched her hands into fists.

You are fucking your guard.

You're as much a whore as I am.

She swallowed hard and looked at her king-cousin, feeling her eyes glaze over with tears.

"– here is my home, my King – please –"

"It would happen sooner or later. Better sooner, given the rumours that reach our ears about where you've been spending the last nights. My brother did not deny it, conversing with me today, that he is taking advantage of your…kindness. I want to put an end to this sinful practice." He interrupted her and she was already about to answer him, but they were interrupted by another, familiar voice.

"No." Her lēkia said. "She is a Targaryen. 'Tis I, as your younger brother, who, by all rights, have precedence to her hand."

She is a Targaryen.

'Tis I, as your younger brother, who, by all rights, have precedence to her hand.

Good gods, he wanted to marry her.

He wanted to marry her to protect her, so that she would not lose her home or him.

I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side.

Aegon only smiled at his words.

"You can bed whomever you want, brother. But it is I, as King and her protector, who will decide who she marries, and sooner Vhagar will fit into the Dragon's Pit than I'll give you her hand." He said, causing heavy tears to run down her cheeks one by one.

Why?

"Why?" Asked her cousin at the same moment in a way that made her feel a squeeze in her heart, his voice breaking as if he was really in pain, his eyebrows arched in despair.

"Good gods. Since when can the Kingdom afford marriages out of the need of the heart? Your subjects are starving. This agreement can make us break the blockade. Are your desires more important than the sake of the Realm?" Aegon sneered, and she burst into a loud sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

They will send her away.

She will lose everything again.

She'll be a nobody again.

She will become another man's toy.

"My decision is final. I will have the crow sent to the Iron Islands with our generous offer later today. That is all."

Her lēkia came to her chamber despite the fact that the evening had not yet dawned and she was always the one to visit him – she threw herself into his arms and cried out loud, overcome by complete hysteria, his hands clamped on her body.

"– no – please, don't let him do it, don't send me away, don't send me away, don't send me away –" She begged him and heard him swallow hard, his lips placing warm, tender kisses on her face.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl – I won't –" He assured her.

"– you're lying – you're going to sell me, you're going to abandon me like he did –" She sobbed, choking on her own tears, tightening her fingers on his back.

Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me.

She sighed as he grabbed her by the hair and gently tilted her head back, forcing her to look at him.

"What did I tell you? Back then, when we were lying under the stars. What did I promise in return for you taming a dragon?" He asked quietly, and she swallowed hard, looking at him with big eyes.

"– that my place will always be by your side – that you will protect me – that I will be your little sister –" She mumbled out with difficulty, and he closed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, exactly as he had done then.

"– and you are –" He hissed, his fingers clamping in her hair. "– you are fucking mine –"

You are fucking mine.

For the first time, it was he who stayed in her chamber – they just lay together in her bed, taking off all their clothes beforehand and kissed, stroking their naked bodies with their hands.

She fell asleep in his embrace drenched in tears.

She didn't believe him.

She did not believe a word he said.

She knew he was just telling her what she wanted to hear, so that she wouldn't panic and run to her father, changing sides at the last moment.

During the night she dreamt that despite her cries and pleas he had stabbed a dagger into her heart, telling her that after the war was over she had become a threat to him, that she and her dragon were no longer necessary to him.

"Did you really think I would let you live?" he asked, and she awoke with a cry of despair, clutching at her heart, on which she clasped her hands.

"– gods – what is it? – what happened? –" She heard his sleepy muttering beside her, his hand touched her shoulder, and she pulled away from him as if burned, thinking that he really wanted to do this to her.

He really wanted to kill her.

He looked at her with big eyes, the pain of rejection in his gaze, as she pulled away from him despite him extending his hand to her.

"– breath, hāedar – a bad dream? –" He asked and she nodded, whooping, unable to catch her breath.

"– yes –" She mumbled out.

He swallowed hard, making a renewed attempt, this time touching her calf, stroking it reassuringly, and she didn't move away.

It was only a dream.

"– Daemon? –" He asked further, and she shook her head.

"– you –" She mumbled, his eye big in shock. "– you stabbed me in the heart – and asked if I really thought you would let me live –"

She mouthed with difficulty and burst into sobs, hiding her face in her hands.

She heard him freeze in disbelief, breathing loudly, his hand clamped down on her ankle.

"– gods, hāedar – no – no, come here –" He muttered, grabbing her arm, and she shook her head, wanting to pull away from him.

"– please – don't deceive me anymore – we both know that when this is over you will kill me –"

"– no –" He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, clasping his fingers in her hair. "– I wanted to do it – then, in the Vale – but I wasn't able to – I won't hurt you – after the war you'll stay by my side – as you are now –" He gasped out, pressing his lips, swollen with emotion to hers in loud, aggressive, desperate kisses.

"– warming your bed while you're married? –" She breathed out into his throat, responding to his caresses, melting with him into one in greedy, passionate dance of their slick tongues, their hands enclosing them in their tight embrace.

"– you are the one I will marry –" He growled, as if her words enraged him, turning her onto her back, his knee forcing her aggressively to spread her thighs apart.

They both sighed and froze when she felt the tip of his swollen cock push against her throbbing slit.

"– A-Aemond –" She mumbled out terrified and aroused, feeling the movement of his hips push his hard erection deeper into her with their loud, surprised moans.

She felt she struggled to catch her breath, stretched to the limit on his throbbing manhood, strangely filled, at his mercy.

Her hands clenched on his naked, muscular arms as he lay on top of her and pressed her to the bed, her plump breasts pressed against his torso, the fat head of his cock deep inside her.

"– I can't take it anymore –" He breathed out, and she whimpered, tilting her head back, feeling him thrust deeper and deeper into her, pushing against something inside her that made her feel discomfort and stinging pain. "– I crave you –"

He said and covered her mouth with his hand when finally with one, violent push he ripped something deep inside her, making her squirm in pain, tears of exertion and horror running down the sides of her face, her whole body quivering.

Gods, he had taken her maidenhood.

If part of her had wanted this for so long, why was she so terrified now?

"– shhh – shhh, little sister, the worst is behind us –" He exhaled tenderly, pulling his hand away from her mouth, allowing her to take a deep breath.

"– I'm scared –" She mumbled in a voice trembling with fear and his eyebrows arched in pain at her words.

He made no movement, looking at her as if worried and concerned, stroking her cheek with his fingers, trying to soothe her, his swollen manhood throbbing hard deep inside her.

"– do you want me to stop? – I will if you want me to – forgive me –" He whispered at last in a voice breaking with shame, as if he was horrified by what he had done and how he had achieved it.

She swallowed quietly and shook her head, thinking that if he did this, something would end between them – he would feel rejected and not want to touch her again, and she needed him, craved him and what he was giving her.

He sighed, pressing his face against hers, kissing her plump, hot cheek with some kind of gratitude, as if he appreciated her effort, understanding that she was doing this for him.

"– don't be afraid, zaldrītsos – we'll do it slowly – I won't hurt you –" He assured her, stroking her head as if she were a small child, his forehead pressed against hers.

She sighed as he gently slid out of her before sinking unhurriedly back deep into her body, making a sound stuck in her throat – this experience, of another body deep inside her, filling her to the brim, was so foreign and strange that she didn't know how she should react or what to feel.

He pulsed aggressively inside her and he was hard – a quiet moan rippled out of her throat each time he opened her wide again and again on the thick part of his cock with quiet clicks of her wetness – she closed her eyes as she felt him begin to hit the sweet spot he always sought with his fingers with each thrust, and the first waves of pleasure flowed along her spine like a tingle.

"– ah –" She mewled, opening her eyes, meeting his heated gaze, their breaths heavy and raptured – she dared to let go of his shoulders and slide her hands down his back, to his buttocks, clamping her fingers on them, emboldening him to move inside her faster.

"– does it hurt? –" He breathed out, thrusting into her a little more confidently, stroking her hot face, wet with tears, with his thumb, kissing the tip of her nose again and again, brushing her puffy lips with his own.

"– n-no – not anymore – but – how should it look? – how have you done it with other women? –" She gasped in a trembling voice, and he stopped moving, looking at her with his mouth wide open.

"– do you want to see for yourself? –" He asked, and she nodded.

"– fuck me –" She whispered.

Fuck me.

She gasped and closed her eyes, throwing her head back when he pounded aggressively into her core with a throaty groan of pleasure, as if he himself was surprised at how pleasurable it was, slamming into her with loud, sticky splats of their bodies against each other.

He moved inside her so fast that she could only spread her thighs wider, crossing them over his sweaty back, their moans pathetic and high-pitched as he hit the same wonderful spot deep inside her tight cunt with each push, himself clearly taking immense satisfaction from this wet, intimate act.

Their hands clenched helplessly on their bodies as their hips began to meet – she felt that what he was doing to her dulled her to pain, instead arousing tension in her loins that grew and grew in her lower abdomen, making her leak all over, soaking his cock with every sharp thrust he made.

"– fucking mine –" He hissed through clenched teeth, locking her moans between his lips, which he pressed against hers in an aggressive kiss – she felt his tongue invade between her teeth, repeating the movements of his hips, forcing itself deep into her throat just as his swollen erection burst between her fleshy, throbbing walls.

She was unable to take a breath between his one thrust and the next, panting hard along with him, her core slick and warm, despite her initial resistance accepting him now with ease.

He pressed his fingers against her bare skin, pounding into her with low grunts of pleasure so fast that he no longer slid out of her, his gaze fixed on their joined bodies.

"– vok syt nyke (perfect for me) – ao se aōha byka orvorta (you and your little cunt) –" He praised her, and she spasmed in euphoria as she felt something approaching – she seemed to howl his name as the aggressive, overpowering pleasure shook her body, loosening her completely, pulling a sigh of relief from her throat, tears of emotion and exertion rolling down her red cheeks.

"– oh gods – oh gods, yes, yes, yes, hāedar –" He gasped out and closed his eye, coming so hard that he cried out along with her, a convulsion shaking his body, and then she felt something warm spill inside her in waves.

His seed.

He came inside her.

Good gods, she thought, lying with closed eyes completely without strength, her hands placed numbly on either side of her head.

She sighed as his body fell against hers, their breaths heavy and hitched, their bodies hot and sweaty, his half-soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

It was such an intimate sensation, so strange and sticky – two bodies being one, him, filling her to the brim.

"– I will take you as my wife as soon as I return from the battlefield – I promise –" He breathed out into her ear, and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard, wondering why he was saying that.

"– your brother will never agree to this –" She whispered, feeling that she was a different person now.

She was no longer a maiden.

She twisted restlessly in her place hearing that his silence answered her, his face nestled against her temple, the tip of his nose sinking into her cheek before he whispered the words into her ear as if he was telling her his secret.

"– leave it to me –"

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Dirndl, Lederhosen, and Family Fun

word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Wife!reader, ft. Jack

Summery: Y/n reflects on her return to Stuttgart, where she finds comfort in her childhood home while her son Jack enjoys reconnecting with his German heritage, the family prepares for a special outing to the Cannstatter Wasen, with Jack eager to embrace the traditions in his new lederhosen.

______________________________________________________________

You had always loved Stuttgart. The cobblestone streets, the picturesque vineyards that rolled over the hills just beyond the city, and the familiar hum of life in the town where you grew up. There was something about being home that brought a sense of comfort, like stepping into a warm embrace.

It had been years since you lived here full-time, though. Life had taken you far away, to bustling Formula 1 circuits, endless hotel stays, and places you never imagined visiting. But now, staying with your parents for a few weeks, it was like the world had slowed down again—if only for a little while. Jack, your son, was loving every minute of it.

Your parents’ home was just outside the city, with a garden that stretched back into a small orchard. Jack ran around with pure joy, chasing after butterflies, his laughter echoing through the trees. You watched him from the terrace, a cup of tea in hand, feeling a quiet happiness bloom in your chest.

“Mama, Papa, schau mal!” (Mom, Dad, look!) Jack called out, holding up a small apple he’d found. His little hands were already smudged with dirt, his face glowing with excitement.

Your mother, who was standing beside you, smiled warmly. “Er ist genauso abenteuerlustig wie du früher.” (He’s just as adventurous as you were.) Her voice was filled with affection as she watched her grandson.

“Vielleicht sogar noch mehr,” (Maybe even more) you replied, laughing softly. Jack certainly had a boundless energy that seemed to come from both sides of his heritage.

It was nice, though, to see him so connected to your roots. While his life was often spent in the fast-paced world of F1, with planes and fancy hotels, there was something so simple and pure about him playing in the garden where you had once done the same. You imagined that this place, with its traditions and calm, would always be part of who he was.

Toto, sitting beside you, looked up from his phone and chuckled. “Er ist wie ein kleiner Wirbelwind,” (He’s like a little whirlwind), he said, shaking his head as Jack started running toward the swing set your parents had put up for him.

“He loves being here,” you murmured, leaning your head on Toto’s shoulder. “It’s his German side coming out.”

Toto smiled at that, slipping his arm around you. “Und die amerikanische Seite?” (And his American side?)

“Also, that’s the side that tells him to never give up,” you said teasingly. “And to talk back sometimes.”

Both of you laughed as Jack shouted, “Ich kann höher schwingen als du, Papa!” (I can swing higher than you, Papa!) from across the garden.

Your father appeared on the terrace with a tray of drinks, setting them down with a grin. “He’s a proper little Stuttgarter now”, he joked, glancing at Jack with pride. You knew your dad was thrilled to have his grandson around, especially because Jack reminded him so much of you at that age.

“And when we go to the Wasen, he’ll be even more Stuttgarter,” you added with a smile, already picturing Jack in his little lederhosen.

Your parents beamed at the thought. They loved the tradition of the Cannstatter Volksfest, and they were excited to share it with their grandson for the first time. It would be a perfect blend of the old and the new—just like your family.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the orchard, you sighed in contentment. This was the life you wanted for Jack: a mixture of adventure and stability, of his German heritage and his American roots, of excitement and the warmth of home.

He might grow up to live in different cities and experience the rush of international life, just as you and Toto had, but Stuttgart would always be here for him. And that, you knew, was something to treasure.

The atmosphere was electric at the Cannstatter Wasen in Cannstatt, the smell of roasted almonds and sausages filling the air, the laughter of children and the hum of conversation mixing with the lively music that spilled from the Zelt (tent) entrances. You had always loved this time of year—the tradition, the joy, the sense of community—and now, you got to share it with your own little family.

As you walked hand in hand with Toto, your son Jack skipping happily between you, you couldn’t help but glance down at the beautiful dirndl you had bought for the occasion. The deep emerald green and embroidered flowers caught the light just right, and Toto had made a point of telling you how stunning you looked before you left. He, too, looked quite handsome in his lederhosen, and little Jack—well, Jack was practically stealing the show in his own mini-version of his dad’s outfit.

The Mercedes team had reserved a table for you in one of the larger tents, and as you made your way through the crowd, you greeted familiar faces, many of them from your years working in Stuttgart. You and Toto exchanged pleasantries with the guests, some speaking in German and others in English, but it all felt like one big celebration. It wasn’t often that the fast-paced world of Formula 1 paused long enough for moments like this.

“Schaut euch die beiden an! Wie süß ist der kleine Jack in seiner Lederhose!” (Look at the two of them! How cute is little Jack in his lederhosen!) one of your old colleagues from Mercedes exclaimed, bending down to give Jack a high-five. Jack, always a little shy at first, smiled and pressed closer to Toto’s leg, his hand still clutching yours.

“Er liebt es! Ich glaube, er fühlt sich wie ein kleiner Mann heute.” (He loves it! I think he feels like a little man today), you replied with a laugh, tousling Jack’s hair. Toto grinned down at him proudly.

“Ja, das tut er,” (Yes, he does), Toto added, ruffling Jack's hair as well. His Austrian accent always made his German sound even warmer, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he beamed at your son.

Once inside the Zelt, the festive energy hit its peak. The wooden tables were packed with people enjoying steins of beer and plates of traditional food, while the band played lively tunes on stage. Your table had a great view of the action, and soon enough, you were seated with members of the Mercedes team, some of whom you hadn’t seen in ages.

The conversations flowed easily, switching between German and English as needed. One of the newer engineers leaned over, beaming. “This is your first time bringing Jack to the Wasen, right?”

You nodded, smiling as Jack’s eyes widened at the sight of the giant pretzels being carried past. “Yes, it’s his first time—though I’m not sure if he’s more excited about the music or the food,” you joked.

Toto chuckled, leaning in to whisper, “Wahrscheinlich beides.” (Probably both.)

The afternoon passed in a blur of fun, food, and laughter. You shared plates of bratwurst, potato salad, and fluffy kaiserschmarrn, and Jack's delighted giggles filled the air when one of the waitresses brought over a child-sized pretzel just for him. Toto sat back, relaxed, one arm around you and the other resting on the table, his eyes shining with contentment. It wasn’t every day you saw him so carefree.

After a while, Jack began squirming with excitement, his eyes darting toward the booths outside the Zelt. “Mama, Papa, können wir zu den Spielen gehen?” (Mama, Papa, can we go to the games?)

You exchanged a glance with Toto, who smiled and gave a slight nod. “Natürlich, mein Schatz,” (Of course, my darling) he said, standing up and helping Jack down from the bench.

The three of you made your way through the bustling fairground until Toto spotted a Schießbude (shooting booth), his face lighting up with mischief. “Ich muss etwas für euch gewinnen.” (I have to win something for you both.)

You laughed, already knowing how competitive he could get, even when it came to something as simple as a shooting game.

Toto gave you a playful look, stepping up to the booth and picking up the air rifle. “Schatz, ich gewinne immer,” (Darling, I always win) he said with a wink.

Jack stood beside you, watching in awe as his father took aim. The first shot hit the target perfectly, and Jack’s eyes widened. “Wow, Papa!”

Toto glanced back at him with a grin. “Noch zwei, dann gehört das Kuscheltier dir.” (Two more, and the stuffed animal is yours.)

And sure enough, Toto’s aim was true. The booth attendant handed him a large, fluffy bear, which he immediately gave to Jack, who hugged it tightly, his little face beaming with pride.

“Siehst du, ich hab’s dir gesagt,” (See, I told you) Toto said, turning to you with a satisfied smile.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. “Okay, okay. Du bist der Beste.” (You’re the best.)

But before you could say more, Toto handed the rifle to you. “Jetzt bist du dran, mal sehen, ob du besser bist.” (Now it's your turn, let's see if you’re better.)

You shook your head, laughing. “Na gut, aber erwarte nicht zu viel.” (Alright, but don’t expect too much.)

As you took aim, you could feel Toto standing close behind you, offering little tips in your ear. “Ein bisschen nach rechts... Perfekt, schießen.” (A little to the right... Perfect, shoot.)

Your shot hit the target, albeit not as cleanly as his, but the joy of it wasn’t about winning—it was in the fun you shared together.

Later that evening, as the lights twinkled across the fairground and Jack, now tired and snug in Toto’s arms, began to nod off, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for moments like this. The Wasen was more than just a festival. It was a reminder of home, of tradition, and of the little things that made your family feel so full of life and love.

Toto kissed the top of your head as you walked back toward the car. “Ich liebe solche Tage,” (I love days like these) he murmured, his voice soft.

You leaned into him, smiling. “Ich auch.” (Me too.)

[littlest-w01f]

Family

Rhysand x Evelyn (See Evelyn here)

For @officialrhysandweek

Rhysand Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 3: Loved one

Summary: Evelyn and Rhysand spend a moment together with their daughter

Cw: Family fluff, mentions of struggles after birth, breastfeeding, Rhysand's usual flirting

Evelyn giggled softly, bouncing her daughter on her hip, "Come on, Rhys, Let me have fun with our baby. You can take Nyx when I'm done."

Rhysand chuckled, watching her with Nyx, "Oh, you'll have plenty of time to play with our babe. I just need to sort out a few things real quick. I don't want to overwork yourself, you already tried your hand in cleaning the drawers and pulled on your stitches." He gave her a pointed glare, Evelyn sighed, knowing she had pushed herself too hard today, but she didn't want to be a couch potato after giving birth, and Madja had just released her from bed rest.

Evelyn was sitting next to Rhysand with Nyx on her lap. "Then I'll watch you." She said, giving him a kiss on his cheek, and he melted instantly.

Rhysand glanced up, unable to resist her smile or kiss. He smiled back, leaning to brush his lips against hers. "You should really rest up a little though, my love."

"I don't want to put her away for even a moment..." Evelyn sighed, looking at Nyx, she had given birth to her a week ago, it was quite a difficult birth given the babe's Illyrian wings but she was finally able to move around, and her body physically healed, even if she felt little spurts of pain every now and then. "She's so precious."

Evelyn gazed adoringly at Nyx, marvelling at how much she had grown in such a short time. The delicate wings, still folded against her back, were a testament to her Illyrian heritage, a part of both of them, a reminder of the powerful lineage he would one day inherit. As she cradled her close, Nyx's tiny fingers curled around her thumb, her bright violet eyes blinking slowly as she studied her surroundings.

Rhysand watched the tender scene unfold, his heart swelling with pride and affection. He reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from Evelyn's forehead. "She is indeed precious," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion. "And you did an incredible job bringing her into the world. We're both so lucky to have you."

With those words, he stood up, offering her a hand to assist her from the chair. Her body was still tender from childbirth, but the pain was manageable now, thanks to Madja's healing and the remedies of Day Court and Helion, who, out of the kindness of his heart, and totally not because he wanted some of Evelyn's chocolates, stayed with them both a few days before and after the birth, and giving Rhysand some healing teas for him to brew for Evelyn.

There had been so many people who'd wanted to be there for Evelyn, but in less than a day she had gotten too overwhelmed by the crowd that formed, leaving only Rhysand, Nyx and her in their home.

Evelyn took Rhysand's offered hand, allowing him to help her rise from the chair. As She stood, she couldn't help but wince slightly, the lingering soreness from the birthing process still present. Rhysand noticed her discomfort and immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, providing support and comfort.

"Are you alright, my flower?" he asked, his brows furrowed with concern. "Perhaps you should sit back down and let me bring you some tea?"

Evelyn shook your head, determined not to let the residual pain slow her down. "No, no, I'm fine," She insisted, leaning into Rhysand's embrace. "I just want to spend every possible moment with Nyx right now. It feels like I blinked and she grew enough to fill my arms!"

Rhysand chuckled softly, understanding her sentiment completely. Evelyn closed her eyes softly, sinking into their shared bed with Rhysand, "I think I'll just feed her and then go to sleep... I'm getting light headed... I thought I could stay up longer."

Rhysand looked over at Nyx, who seemed to be starting to fuss in her arms, "I'll take her if you need to sleep. You'll need to get rest in where you can, especially how quickly you exhaust yourself."

"I... I want her... I want my babe, Rhys..." Evelyn eyes went wide, her lip tremblings, "Don't take her... Please."

Seeing her tears welling up, Rhysand felt a pang of guilt for sounding like he wanted her to leave Nyx. He knew how fiercely protective she was of her newborn child, with how she had been with Cyrus, and he didn't want to separate them if it made her uncomfortable. But at the same time, he also wanted to ensure Evelyn got the proper care and attention she needed during this vulnerable time.

"Alright, alright," he murmured gently, "I won't separate you two long, my precious. why don't you feed her and I'll burp her after, huh? I don't want you to get too exhaused."

Despite his reassurances, there was clear concern etched across Rhysand's face. He knew how hard it must be for her to part with Nyx, even for a brief moment, how her body and mind were not used to the physical loss of her.

Rhysand's words brought a small smile to her lips, appreciating his willingness to compromise. Evelyn nodded, settling back onto the pillows with Nyx cradled against her breast, already grabbing at her dress, she slipped out of the straps of her gown, pulling them down enough. As Evelyn began to nurse Nyx, Rhysand sat beside her, his large hand gently stroking her hair in soothing motions.

The intimate scene was peaceful, the only sounds being Nyx's contented suckling and Evelyn's soft whispers of love and reassurance with Rhysand gently stroking her side. It took a long half an hour, Nyx finished feeding, looking up at her with her big eyes that held so much innocence it made her heart clench, leaving her more than a little tired as she leaned into Rhysand.

Evelyn smiled as Nyx was done feeding and carefully handed her to Rhysand, "Ok... She's done... Now you burp her... I am napping."

Rhysand took Nyx with a soft smile and chuckled. "Yes, madam, whatever you say." He stood up and walked over to a chair beside the bed, gently placing Nyx on his shoulder. He began to pat her back, making sure to burp her.

Evelyn lay back down and pull the blankets over yourself, "Could you put her next to me after so I can cuddle her…?"

Rhysand smiled softly as Nyx happily burped, she was a very easy babe, which didn't mean they gave her any less attention or pampering, the babe only got fussy if she was hungry or dirty, or simply needed her mama, otherwise she was all smiles and curiocity. He then walked over to the bed and lay her down beside Evelyn, carefully adjusting the babe's blankets. "There we go, flower. You two stay comfortable." He leaned over Evelyn and kissed her forehead before standing up.

"Come back soon..." Evelyn whispered softly, curling around their son, letting her play with her fingers as she was babbling away, "What do you think she's talking about?"

Rhysand laughed softly as he looked down at Nyx, who seemed to still want both of their attention, talking in her own tongue. "I assume she's planning world domination. What else would she be thinking of?" He chuckled again before giving Nyx a last kiss on the head. "I'm going to do the dishes now. I won't be long." With that he turned around and walked out of the bedroom, reaching the door.

"Aww, does baby girl want to be High Queen like her mama?" Evelyn giggled, tickling her to make the infant giggle as well, emitting the same sound as her, "And look, the High Lord is going off to wash dishes, he's so domestic."

Rhysand laughed a little from outside the door since he hadn't gone too far from the entrance, turning back around. "Domestic my ass! I just know that you prefer me washing the dishes instead of you. You can't stand even washing one dish." He chuckled as he spoke, clearly being humorous.

"Ok, listen here, darling." Evelyn turned her head to look at him, a smirk on her face, Nyx still babbling, "I made and gave birth to your little mini you... So you move your behind and be a domestic mate... Also don't swear in front of the babe."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her words. "Oh yeah, because the babe will understand me perfectly, right after having sucked on your breast for the past half hour." The sarcasm was evident when he spoke, teasing her. "The only thing she's gonna be thinking about right now is how she could devour those breasts again..."

"Like father like daughter then?" Evelyn teased, making no attempts to hide her sarcasm.

Rhysand smirked, leaning against the side of the wall beside the bedroom door and crossing his arms while speaking. "Hey! I'm a gentlemale, I'll have you know. I don't want to devour you, I want to... savor you..."

He immediately stop himself from speaking and take a deep breath, trying to calm the dirty thoughts that immediately flitted through his head. "And I will. As soon as I finish the dishes. Just get yourself comfortable on the bed, I shouldn't be too long... Rest up, my love. I'll come cuddle you after."

"I want you..." Evelyn whispered enough for him to hear and he smiled. His voice filling her head, you'll have me forever, my precious flower.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

{Rhysand Taglist - @yeonalie}

{Blooming Flowers Taglist- @theskyisbrighthere @mybestfriendmademe @yeonalie}

{RhysandWeek Taglist - @andreperez11}

[wcrldcfvtlvs]

@indigodreames asked: [ SHOULDER ] — hugging receiver from behind, sender kisses the back of receiver’s shoulder, lingering with their face pressed against receiver’s back ( seonho & victoria ♡ ) // ACTION PROMPTS : Loving Actions (SFW) || accepting!

Idly tending to her house plants, Victoria was at peace when she was watering them. It would have been easier to use her magic to water them all, however, she found comfort in watering them individually. A steel watering can in one hand and a spray bottle in another. Stepping outside to her balcony, she smiled as she felt the warm sun rays on her skin. Victoria knew she had chosen right this morning to wear her current sundress while taking care of morning tasks.

Once she finished her outdoor plants, she gently placed her items down on the near by balcony coffee table and took a moment to overlook the city view. From where she stood, she could see Atlas Tech, and the streets slowly becoming busy. Even though she loved and adored her penthouse, she missed her lake house that she had built with Seonho. Even though it was needed for a time that was rather tragic, it was made with love and in a space where she could be herself and embrace her witch heritage with pride. However, she had duties that needed to be done in the city.

As she looked over the city, she felt arms wrap around her frame and a smile instantly spread across her features, along with a blush painting her cheeks. Feeling lips on her shoulders and then softly hair tickling the nape of her neck. " Good morning, love. " Victoria said softly as she gently rested her arms from the balcony railing to Seonho's arms. " Did you sleep well? I hope I didn't wake you when I woke up this morning. "

[oph3liatlou]

VICTORIA STARK - OC

─── 𝐻𝒶𝓈 ───

• 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃? •

​🇨​​🇦​​🇳​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇪​​🇪​ ​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇮​​🇸​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇧​​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇩​?

VICTORIA ♡ STARK

────────

ʚ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ɞ

Victoria's hands trembled, the warmth of her fire powers seeping through her fingertips. Though she had learned to embrace them, memories of the experiments, and the torment of Aldrich Killain, still haunted her. She stood there, conflicted between her past and her newfound strength, her eyes glowing like embers of determination.

"Who am I supposed to be?" she whispered, the flickering flames in her palms casting long shadows across the room. The weight of her heritage heavy on her shoulders.

─── 𝒞𝒶𝓃───

• 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋? •

​🇴​​🇷​ ​🇮​​🇫​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇴​​🇻​​🇪​​🇸​, ​🇼​​🇮​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇫​​🇦​​🇱​​🇱​?

────────

ʚ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 ɞ

VICTORIA MEREIDITH STARK !

────────

first name; Victoria is derived from the latin word "victoria" meaning "victory". In Roman mythology, Victoria was the goddess of victory, corresponding to the Greek goddess Nike.

middle name; Meredith is of Welsh origin, meaning "great-ruler".

last name; Stark is of English origin derived from the Old English word "stearc" meaning "firm and unyielding." In modern times, Stark means "severe or pain".

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 !

────────

Tori; was given the nickname "Tori" by her friends and family, a shortened version of her given name, Victoria. The name was affectionately used to differentiate her from her famous father, Tony Stark, also known as Ironman, who was a central figure in the Avengers. The nickname added a touch of familiarity and warmth, making her feel more approachable and less like the daughter of a superhero. It was a way for those closest to her to connect with her on a more personal level, beyond her father's larger-than-life persona.

Firecracker; Victoria's father, Tony Stark, often called his daughter "Firecracker" as a term of endearment. The nickname paid tribute to her fiery temperament and fierce determination, resembling the explosive power and captivating beauty of a firecracker. It was a way for Tony to express his love and acknowledgment for his daughter's resilience and strength in the face of challenges, often referring to her as such in moments of pride or admiration. The nickname served as a reminder of her unique and fiery spirit, reminiscent of a powerful explosion that illuminated the night sky.

Doll; Bucky Barnes calls Victoria "doll" as a term of endearment, a playful and affectionate nickname. The term "doll" suggests that he sees her as something precious, like a delicate and treasured object. At the same time, it also captures his fascination with her beauty and elegance. Nicknaming her "doll" is a way for Bucky to express his admiration and adoration for Victoria in a unique and endearing manner, setting her apart from others. The nickname serves as a constant reminder of her importance to him and the special place she holds in his heart.

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 !

────────

date; august 10

zodiac sign; leo

ruling planet; sun

elemental sign; fire

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 !

────────

female & pansexual

─── 𝐼𝓈 ───

•𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃?•

ʜᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ?

────────

ʚ 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ɞ

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 !

────────

Victoria stands at an average height of 5'6" with an athletic and toned physique, shaped by her training and regular physical activity. Her facial features are sharp and expressive, framed by a cascade of unruly brown hair that tumbles down to her shoulders. Her eyes are a warm, caramel brown and are framed by thick lashes, adding an air of intensity to her gaze. Her attire is often practical and designed for movement, complemented by her strong, agile figure.

𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

────────

When Victoria is not in battle, her sense of style is casual and comfortable. She tends to favor practical clothing that allows for easy movement and freedom of expression. She often opts for jeans or cargo pants paired with a simple t-shirt or a comfortable sweater. Her footwear of choice is usually sneakers or sturdy boots, ideal for walks or light outdoor activities. Accessorizing is minimal, with a preference for jewelry that is subtle and personal, such as a thin silver bracelet or a small pendant necklace. Overall, her style reflects her practical and no-nonsense personality.

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 !

────────

When Victoria uses her powers, her demeanor transforms from reserved to fierce and commanding. Her eyes take on a fiery glow as the flames within her come to life, casting a warm, flickering light across her features. The air around her crackles with energy as heat radiates from her body, causing her hair to billow softly around her face. In this state, she exudes a sense of power and determination, her expression focused and resolute as she summons and harnesses the fiery energy within. This transformation is a testament to her connection to her fire powers and the strength she commands when utilizing them.

─── 𝒲𝑒'𝓁𝓁 ───

• 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 •

ᴡʜʏ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴡᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴄᴀʀᴇ?

────────

ʚ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ɞ

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

─ resolute; Victoria is determined and resilient, facing challenges head-on and refusing to back down easily.

─ compassionate; Despite her fiery demeanor, Victoria has a compassionate heart and a strong desire to help and protect others.

─ confident; With her impressive powers and skills, Victoria has a strong belief in herself and her abilities, which fuels her determination to push forward and achieve her goals.

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

─ impulsive; Victoria has a tendency to act on her emotions quickly and without thinking things through, which can led to hasty decisions and consequences.

─ stubborn; Once Victoria has set her mind on something, she can be stubborn and inflexible, refusing to consider other viewpoints or change her plans.

─ arrogant; Due to her abilities and skills, Victoria can sometimes come across as arrogant or overly confident, underestimating others and their capabilities.

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 !

────────

─ guitar; Victoria's hobby is playing electric guitar. She finds solace in the loud, powerful music and enjoys the creative outlet it provides. She often spends her free time practicing her skills on different techniques and exploring new songs to add to her repertoire. Playing the electric guitar allows her to express herself and release any built-up tension or energy, providing a much-needed balance to her busy life as an Avenger.

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

─ pacing; Victoria has a habit of pacing back and forth when she's deep in thought or feeling anxious or restless. She often finds herself pacing around the room or her living space when contemplating a difficult decision or trying to strategize. This habit helps her expend excess energy and aids in her problem-solving process. She may also unconsciously hum or sing softly as she paces, allowing her mind to fully focus on the task at hand.

─── 𝐻𝑒───

• 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐋 •

ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴍᴀɢɴᴇᴛɪᴄ ꜰɪᴇʟᴅ

────────

ʚ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 ɞ

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 !

────────

─ sarcasm

Victoria has a witty and sarcastic sense of humor and enjoys using playful banter and sarcastic remarks as a way to connect with others and lighten the mood in a given situation.

─ quality time

She values the bonds she has formed with her family and friends and derives great enjoyment from spending time with them.

─ music

As a hobby, Victoria loves listening to and playing different genres of music, finding inspiration and solace in the lyrics and beats.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 !

────────

─ restriction

 Victoria values her freedom and dislikes feeling constricted or controlled, especially when it comes to making decisions or taking action.

─ aldritch killian

She harbors a deep-seated dislike for Aldritch Killain, the villain who experimented on and tortured her during the events of Ironman 3.

─ disloyalty

Victoria has little tolerance for people who are dishonest, untrustworthy, or unreliable, especially in her team or among her loved ones.

𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 !

────────

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫      red

𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐝       pizza

𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥   lion

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠       cherry bomb

𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭      ac/dc

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞     fast and furious

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞      the top of the avengers tower

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭    mars

𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎 !

────────

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐫     socially

𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫     no

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬        no

𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭    yes

𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 yes

𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫       yes

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫      no

─── 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 ───

• 𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 •

ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɴᴋɪɴᴅ

────────

ʚ 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 ɞ

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 !

────────

welder

Before becoming an Avenger, Victoria held a job as a Welder at Stark Industries. She worked in the fabrication and construction department, where she specialized in welding and metalwork. Her duties involved fabricating and repairing various metal components for Stark Industries' advanced technology, such as Iron Man's armors and weapons. Her skills and experience in welding made her an invaluable asset to the company and gave her a strong foundation of technical knowledge when she became an Avenger.

𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 !

────────

new york city

Victoria lives in a luxurious penthouse suite located in the heart of New York City. The penthouse is situated in a high-rise building that offers stunning views of the city skyline and the surrounding area. The apartment is modern and sleek, featuring a minimalist design with open-concept spaces and ample natural light. There is a spacious living room, a fully equipped kitchen, a home gym, a luxurious bathroom with a spa-like shower and tub, and a cozy bedroom. The penthouse is the ultimate escape from the chaos of her superhero life and offers her a quiet refuge where she can unwind and relax.

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 !

────────

highly upper-class

Having come from a wealthy upbringing as the daughter of one of the richest men on the planet, Tony Stark, Victoria's financial situation is one of great affluence and privilege. She has access to significant resources and assets, thanks to her father's wealth and status. As a result, she has never wanted for anything and can afford the best of everything, from living accommodations and travel to leisure activities and designer fashion. However, despite her wealth, Victoria remains down-to-earth and empathetic to the struggles of those less fortunate.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇 !

────────

Victoria is in excellent health, thanks to her regular physical training and adherence to a disciplined lifestyle. She maintains a healthy diet, exercises regularly, and ensures she gets enough rest and recovery time between missions. Her strong physical fitness, combined with her determination and resilience, allows her to withstand the demands of being an Avenger and to face any challenges that come her way. Despite the physical and emotional toll that comes with being a superhero, Victoria's health remains a priority, and she takes care of herself both mentally and physically.

─── 𝒩𝑜𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎 ───

• 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌 •

​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇺​​🇸​​🇹​ ​🇸​​🇹​​🇦​​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​ ​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇱​​🇩​

────────

ʚ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ɞ

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

────────

pansexual

Victoria is a cisgender woman and identifies as pansexual. Pansexuality means experiencing sexual, romantic, or emotional attraction to people of any gender, including cisgender, transgender, queer, or nonbinary individuals. It is a form of sexuality that is not limited by gender identity or expression. As someone who identifies as pansexual, Victoria is attracted to people of all genders and does not limit her attractions based on any gender boundaries. Being pansexual allows her to form connections with individuals based solely on their personality, character, and compatibility, without any restrictions or limitations imposed by gender stereotypes or expectations.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 !

────────

Victoria's preferences in a partner are primarily focused on emotional and personal compatibility, rather than external factors such as physical appearance or material possessions. She values qualities such as authenticity, honesty, loyalty, and empathy in a partner, as well as someone who is supportive of her lifestyle as an Avenger and can understand the complexities that come with it. She appreciates intelligence, creativity, and self-reliance, but doesn't mind a partner with a playful or mischievous side as well. Communication, trust, and a shared vision for the future are also important to her in a relationship.

𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 !

────────

Victoria's dream date would ideally involve something adventurous, exciting, and fun, such as going on a thrill ride at an amusement park, exploring a new city or place of interest, or participating in an adrenaline-pumping activity like bungee jumping or zip-lining. She also appreciates more intimate dates that allow her to connect with her partner on a deeper level, such as having a picnic in a scenic spot, attending a live music performance, or watching a movie at an outdoor theater. Ultimately, the key element of her dream date would be spending quality time with someone she cares about.

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 !

────────

Victoria's past relationships, if any, have likely been shaped by her experiences as an Avenger and the challenges that come with her lifestyle as a superhero. It's possible that she has had partners who struggled with the demands of her job, especially if they had difficulty understanding the responsibilities and dangers that come with being an Avenger. However, it's also possible that she has found partners who appreciated and respected her lifestyle and were supportive of her career goals. Overall, her past relationships may have taught her valuable lessons about communication, trust, and the importance of finding someone who can balance her hectic life with her desire for connection and companionship.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 !

────────

bucky barnes

Victoria' relationship with Bucky Barnes, also known as the Winter Soldier, is complex and ongoing. Initially, there may have been some tension and mistrust due to Bucky's past as a brainwashed assassin and Victoria's loyalty to her fellow Avengers. However, as they worked together and got to know each other better, they developed a strong friendship based on mutual respect and admiration. Over time, this friendship may have blossomed into something more romantic, with Victoria finding solace and companionship in Bucky's company. However, their relationship would likely also be marked by its own unique set of challenges due to their respective backgrounds and traumatic experiences.

─── 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ───

• 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 •

​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇹​ ​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇼​​🇮​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇸​​🇴​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇺​​🇳​​🇫​​🇺​​🇷​​🇱​

────────

ʚ 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ɞ

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 !

────────

pepper potts

Victoria's relationship with her step-mother, Pepper Potts, is likely complex and nuanced. Pepper has filled a maternal role in Victoria's life since her father, Tony Stark, and Pepper got married. As such, Pepper has provided guidance, support, and stability for Victoria, especially during challenging times in her life. Pepper is known for her resilience, intelligence, and dedication, which are traits that Victoria could admire and respect. However, given Pepper's hectic life and responsibilities as the CEO of Stark Industries and a superhero in her own right, it's also possible that their relationship could be strained at times due to conflicting priorities or schedules.

𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 !

────────

tony stark

Victoria's relationship with her father, Tony Stark, is likely complex and multifaceted. As the daughter of one of the world's most famous superheroes and a billionaire entrepreneur, she has grown up in the shadow of his larger-than-life persona. On one hand, she may have admired and looked up to her father for his intelligence, ingenuity, and bravery. On the other hand, she may have felt overshadowed and overshadowed by his legacy and the high expectations placed upon her as his daughter. Despite potential challenges, it's also possible that they share a close bond based on their shared experiences as Avengers.

𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 !

────────

morgan stark

Victoria's relationship with her younger sister, Morgan Stark, is likely one of love, protection, and closeness. As the eldest sibling, Victoria may have taken on a protective and nurturing role in her younger sister's life, guiding her and providing her with support and advice as she grows up. Given the strong bond between Tony and Pepper, it's likely that Victoria has been a positive influence on Morgan and has helped her navigate the complexities of growing up in the Stark family legacy. Overall, their relationship is likely one that is built on mutual love, trust, and loyalty.

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !

────────

natasha romanoff

Natasha and Victoria share a strong bond based on their time working together, and Natasha has often been a supportive figure in Victoria's life, providing advice and mentorship. They have also faced many dangerous missions together and have developed a deep trust and mutual respect for each other. Additionally, Natasha's wisdom, intelligence, and empathetic nature make her an ideal friend for Victoria to confide in and seek support from.

─── 𝒩𝑜𝓌 ───

• 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 •

ꜰᴏʀ ɪʀᴏɴ ᴍᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ꜰᴇᴀʀ

────────

ʚ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹'𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺 ɞ

𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐒 !

────────

𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 : felicity jones

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 : ophelia

𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 : 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐃 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 : 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : ironman by black sabbath

𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐭𝐚𝐠 : #LucidTemp

[hamliet]

Never Have I Ever... Expected to Appreciate a Love Triangle

Never Have I Ever’s season two continues to establish itself as the one love triangle I actually think works. Usually I want to light that trope on fire, but it’s so great here because of the unique (and messy) characters in it. 

The season offered clarity on what endgame is (Ben) while also establishing Paxton as the character with the most growth from the beginning of the season to the end. Paxton’s journey with his Ojichan, embracing his heritage, learning that he can actually make things happen when he commits to things (studying, Devi) was really emotionally compelling and satisfying. Even if Ben/Devi is endgame, Paxton doesn’t feel like he’s tacked on, but instead a very integral part of the dynamic between the three characters. (More Ben and Paxton moments, please? I want them to be friends; they really need to grow to be like each other!)

I don’t think Ben/Devi could ever be together if Paxton weren’t a part of the picture. The ending where Dvi and Paxton end up together is earned, and we’re rooting for them, cheering for them as they get their happy ending, even as we know Bendevi are endgame. It’s satisfying to see Ben shocked and heartbroken, because he realizes he has been doing exactly what he accused Paxton of doing. Paxton grew and overcame his pride to be with Devi, which is what she deserves: someone who isn’t ashamed of her. Ben now has his marching orders: if he wants to be with Devi, he has to follow Paxton’s lead. 

Ben also needs to stop dating girls he does not actually like. Aneesa deserves more. Speaking of Aneesa... I loved her character and what she added to the story, but her plotline was the one piece of truly bad writing in NHIE’s repertoire. It was utterly nonsensical. 

No principal gives a damn about who starts rumors unless they are SUPER serious. They aren’t going to suspend someone over it. 

An ED rumor is unlikely to merit a school-wide investigation or to have peers universally react to it with such disgust. 

Devi made an observation from seeing Aneesa not eating; anyone could/would have come to the same conclusion at some point. It was wrong to say it, absolutely, but it just... wasn’t a huge moral failing. 

Please explain to me why "crazy Devi" didn't mitigate consequences but this did. Like, people had been bullying Devi, a girl whose Dad has just died, ALL SEASON, Aneesa participated in it, and even after Aneesa’s subplot was “resolved,” Devi was still being bullied by this so... why did no one give a damn about this? 

NHIE is the only show I can think of where the story holds its main character to a harsher standard than everyone else, lol. Not that Devi was in the right--she was VERY much in the wrong--but it was framed as being Devi’s lowest moral moment, and it objectively was not, and simply did not make sense with the school’s policies on bullying as had already been established. 

I think the same subplot would have worked much better if Devi had said something like “Aneesa is a slut/has an STD/got pregnant” considering the entire reason for her freak out is that she thinks Aneesa is having sex with Ben, which they weren’t. But those are the kind of rumors that can actually ruin someone’s life. An ED rumor did not merit that kind of reaction. 

I also wish that if they were going to ED route, they’d have actually explored it instead of just patching it onto Aneesa’s character. It felt really, really forced and random, didn’t tie in to any themes, and thus does not work. Don’t include triggering content if you don’t plan on exploring it. At least the above rumors actually tied in with the plot and character issues. 

I enjoy that Devi is allowed to spiral and to make horrific mistakes, though. I’ve seen a lot of reviews complaining about her acting like a jerk, but that’s the point. Grief is at the heart of Devi’s character, and grief is seldom two perfect pearlesque teardrops elegantly dripping onto marble floors. Grief is ugly. Grief is terrifying, grief is disorienting, grief seeks comfort and it seeks destruction. It’s unpredictable. 

I really enjoyed what the writers did with Nalini this season, and with Devi’s grandmother. Pati was wonderful, and Nalini made some great strides herself. I enjoyed seeing her dynamic with Mohan fleshed out more (they weren’t perfect), and Nalini and Dr. Jackson were great. They were adult!Ben and Devi in their dynamic, and like Ben and Devi, the timing just isn’t right for them to be together. Learning to grow and realize she was wrong about Dr. Jackson helps Nalini realize she can be wrong, and that doesn’t make her a terrible person for it; thus Nalini can forgive herself and be a better mother for it. 

I also loved Eleanor’s stepmother, and Fabiola’s mom. Actually, one of the things I like about this show is how the parents are all really human, with failings as parents and strengths, and they keep improving themselves too. 

I feel sad for Kamala and Prashant, and get that she needs someone who encourages her to not be passive, but also felt Prashanth deserved a little more than being straight up stood up the night he planned to propose. That said, I appreciated how their relationship evolved--Prashant is a good man, but it does not work for a very human reason. Prashant was not a jerk like Steve last season, but it just meant that their worldviews and what they need from a relationship were not compatible. (Also Kamala’s workplace environment was entirely accurate to what those environments are like. 100%. It wasn’t hyperbolized at all.) Kamala learning to be more like Devi and Devi more like Kamala was fun to see. 

Fabiola and Eleanor’s plotlines were good, too. I love Fab and Eve, and am intrigued by the notion of Eleanor and Trent. If the latter is to be a thing, I hope Trent gets more development/focus (and I actually hope Eve does as well, in terms of conflict/character flaws; she’s great, and I’d love her to be fleshed out more). 

My favorite part of the season, though, was when Mohan appears to speak to Devi in her dream, and what he says to her. Just because you’ve made mistakes doesn’t mean you deserve any less and I call you perfect girl not because I expect you to be perfect, but because you’re already perfect to me, just because she’s Devi. Instead of her name being synonymous with “mistake” as was the running joke throughout the season, she has power through the love her father gives her (even if he’s no longer alive, because love transcends time) to affirm to worth, to continue to develop who she is, to change her legacy.

I am very excited for a season 3. 

[shinidamachu]

yo asking someone to make a wish so half of their heritage is gone forever is fridge horror-level wtfness (thnx TV Tropes).

of course RT and Sunrise chose not to focus on it, and in mythology people do give up divinity or humanity for romantic reasons, but specifically in Inuyasha it was like ‘despite your demon half you can still live a good life’ as if he has some disease 🤨

like I get in history people have had to hide their heritage to survive war and avoid being shipped off to their death or lose their rights, but to ask someone to permanently discard half their heritage and presumably hide their origins until death is tragic as fuuuuuuuuuuu

It's not even that they chose not to focus on it, is that they deliberately portrayed it as this grand romantic gesture from Inuyasha’s part and for a part of the audience, it truly was. But then again, this backfired for people like me, because it only served to proof how desperate Inuyasha really was to fit in.

Poor guy was literally planning on using the jewel to become a full demon just the day before. Then, at Kikyo’s request, he agreed on doing the exact opposite with little to no deliberation other than “what will be made of you, Kikyo?” I can only assume he was afraid her feelings were conditional. That if he had said no, she would have called it quits.

Imagine the same situation, but this time Inuyasha has a support system to lean on. Prejudice against half demons are still a thing, however he has his parents, his friends, a place to belong. Would he still have said yes in order to live with Kikyo? I honestly doubt it.

You see, Inuyasha hates being human. Not in the sense of saying he hates it, but liking it in secret. He actively hates it. And I can’t stress enough that we don’t actually understand how rightfully entitled he is to hate it.

We know how a human body feels like, we’re used to have a human body. Inuyasha is only human once a month. The majority of time he is a half demon. That’s what he is used to. Even worse: put yourself in his shoes. If you were to lose half your strength, half your sight, half your hearing and speed every single New Moon, you'd curse that night too. 

Not to mention the sheer vulnerability of being emotionally and physically exposed, of not being able to protect yourself or the ones you care about and becoming a "burden” when he takes pride of being the (un)official guardian of the group. No wonder he felt so hopeless he made a point out of staying up all night. And this is what Kikyo was asking him to feel like every single day for the rest of his existence so their life together could be easier, with the aditional quicker of forever losing the features that marked him as his father’s son. You know, the man who died saving him and his mother.

Every single character that got close enough to find out about his night of weakness quickly became aware of how much he despises it. Now, we don’t know the exact duration of Inuyasha and Kikyo’s relationship, but here are our options: Kikyo didn’t know about the New Moon and that Inuyasha hated turning into human or she did know and decided to go for it anyway.

Considering that the latter option is straight up awful, I’ll just assume she simply didn’t know. What does this say about their relationship? If they were an item for a considerable period of time, how come she didn’t know about such a fundamental thing about him? Especially when people who weren’t even his love interest were aware of that fact pretty early on? What was it worth all that time together if they didn’t use it to have meaningful interactions and get to know one another? If Inuyasha was keeping secrets from her and if she wasn’t interested in learning them?

On the other hand, if their relationship was indeed short lived, that could justify the lack of knowledge, but a different issue raises: if they didn’t have time to collect basic information about each other, how am I supposed to believe in their love? How am I supposed to view the decision to erase his demonic side and live together as anything other than reckless, impulsive and thoughtless? How am I not supposed to see it as mutual convenience, a mean to an end? How am I not supposed to think they are acting out of lonileness and desire to fit in? How am I not supposed to think that if literally anyone else had given them the same options they would have taken it? 

A New Moon would have happened in at least one month, tops. That’s not love. That’s a thirty days affair. It could have grown into love, if given the chance, but the pairing seemed more interested in the life they ideolized for themselves than in each other.

I don’t think Kikyo meant it as an ultimatum or that she was disgusted by his demonic attributes. She wouldn’t have approached or kissed him as a half demon otherwise. But I think it’s hard to deny that she wasn’t necessarily fond of them either, since she jumped at the opportunity to get rid of them first chance she got, with no remorse whatsoever. As if it was a bonus. This allowed with the fact that the prejudice against half demons is an allegory for racism and that she used from false equivalence to make the point that both her and Inuyasha were in the same situation puts her in a bad light.

Inuyasha was isolated by people because of his heritage, something he couldn’t change without resorting to intrusive, traumatizing and permanent magic, which Kikyo herself suggested he did. Kikyo isolated herself. People loved her because of her status and she was a privileged woman in comparison. She could have dropped everything since she was unhappy living like that, but she spontaneously chose her duty and powers over love and an ordinary life. And as much as I disagree with her choices, I can at least respect and understand them. What I can’t do is feel sympathy for her when the consequences of said choices catch up with her.

The narrative doesn’t give this problem much focus, it treats it in a much more subtle way. For instance: the jewel only being destroyed by the right wish, paints wishing for Inuyasha to become human as wrong and selfish, with the potential to be catastrophic.

That being said, Inuyasha didn’t hate being a half demon, on the contrary. What he hated was being ostracized over it, so he decided to take matters on his own hands and, when he was free to choose between using the jewel to become a full demon or a human, he went the full demon route because he knew living as human would made him miserable. But the desire of being a full demon was a facade. What he so very clearly wanted, all along, was to be accepted the way he was. That’s why he had no trouble letting go of that goal to pursue the exact  opposite: there was no attachment to it. Full demon or human, he longed for a place to belong. If Kikyo was offering that to him, of course he would have taken it, even if becoming human was far from being the first choice.

Compare that with Inuyasha finally giving up from becoming a full demon, realizing he didn’t have to change at all, that he had a place to belong and people who loved him not despite of what he was but because of it, that he could be accepted as a half demon. Compare that with Inuyasha ending up with the girl that always encouraged him to be himself, with being comfortable enough around her to follow his instincts and embracing his canine mannerisms rather than shutting them down, which he didn’t quite did with Kikyo... The message is clear:

Kikyo should never, in any circumstance, have asked that of him. The implications of it were really bad and on paper it was a win-win situation for her because getting rid of the jewel to become an ordinary woman was something she already wanted. He was the one with the short end of the stick, sacrificing everything without the same level of compromising from her part.

And Inuyasha should never, in any circumstance, have accepted this deal. As his love interest, Kikyo should have been the very first persond advocating for him not to change. If the feelings they had for each other truly were love, then she should be the one helping him getting to terms with himself while he does the same for her, not legitimizing the absurd idea that a part of his essence was less worthy of existing than the other, that he should have be the one to change in order to fit in, rather than the people who oppressed him.

Thematically, even if subtle, the narrative did a decent job out of showing the audience how fucked up the whole thing actually was. What it failed to do was making Inuyasha and the others realizing how wrong it was and holding Kikyo accountable for her actions by making them talk about it.

Because God forbid Kikyo gets vocally told she was wrong (even though she often is) and God forbid Takahashi give Inukik the tiniest bit of substance and relationship development.

[sourcherrybomb]

SoKai Week 2020 - Day 5 - Beneath the Light of Vega and Altair

Synopsis: When they were children, Sora told Kairi the story of the fearless sailor Altair and his voyage to meet his beloved, the Sea Goddess Vega. Kairi, seeing herself as Altair, embarks on her own journey to find her Vega, Sora.

Sneak Peak: After a certain point Kairi stopped keeping track of time. Sometimes she would lie down and think about her time with Sora to see if her heart could make any connection to his.

Tags: Romance, Angst, All Ages, KH3 Spoilers, F/M

Prompt for the Day: Sea and Sky / Tanabata / Star-Crossed Lovers

Words: 1.8k

Fanart By: @anniths​

Using the countless stars and constellations scattered across the nighttime skies, sailors would always find their way back home. 

Many believed it to be a wives’ tale, something told to scared and nervous children to assure them that their parents would come back from sea. Others saw it as a part of their heritage, a belief not to be taken lightly. Regardless of your stance on it, the young children of Destiny Islands grew up learning how to navigate the stars and memorizing the constellations.

As someone who was not originally from the Islands, Kairi had to spend a lot of time catching up to the rest of her Islander peers. Even Selphie, a girl who had no desire to sail or explore other worlds, knew more about finding your way using the stars. As one of her few female friends, Kairi cherished her, but did lament at this fact for the longest time.

Of course, whenever she did have trouble, Sora and Riku would always come to help her out. Out of the two, Riku was definitely the more studious one. If Kairi aimed at a random part of the night sky, the boy could point out several stars that could be used to determine direction or even time of day depending on its position. Sora on the other hand wasn’t as proficient in navigation, but could talk your ear off about the constellations and their meanings.

While Sora found himself jealous of Riku’s demonstrable skills, it was his love for the stories behind the stars that, unbeknownst to the both of them, drew Kairi to him. She loved hearing stories about the various heroes and monsters placed amongst the stars, and Sora was more than willing to prattle on about them. But out of all the stories Sora shared with her, Kairi found herself holding the story of Vega and Altair close to her heart.

Altair, a proud and boastful sailor, proclaimed that he would sail through every sea and ocean in the world to prove that his skills were amongst that of the gods. Cygnus, God of the Sky heard of this boast. Thinking that Altair would fail spectacularly, Cygnus offered the hand of his daughter, Vega the Sea Goddess, in marriage. Once he set sail, Altair was faced with countless obstacles sent by Cygnus to sabotage the sailor’s efforts. Each challenge shook at his pride and humbled him. However, he did not relent and continued on his journey. Unbeknownst to Altair, Vega had watched over the sailor during his adventures and over time came to love him.

It would take him decades, but Altair did successfully sail through the seas and oceans. At once, Vega greeted him with a loving embrace. Furious at this outcome, Cygnus cast away the now old sailor with a powerful gust of wind, separating the lovers. 

Lost at sea and nearly drowning without his vessel, Altair was greeted by a vision of Vega. Overcome with her love for Altair, the goddess gave the sailor a blessing of immortality and eternal youth as long as he stayed on the ocean. In return, Altair would have to complete his journey once again in order to get one day with Vega. This precaution was put in place by Vega so as to not incur the wrath of Cygnus. Undaunted by this task, Altair set off to sail towards his betrothed. The storytellers of Destiny Islands say that year after year, Altair completes his journey and is reunited with his beloved Vega.

Kairi, now a young woman, hoped that she would be able to reunite with the Sora that she loved so much, similar to Vega and Altair.

After the final battle with Xehanort and the True Organization XIII, Sora was able to do so with Kairi after his countless trials. However, just like Vega and Altair, all she got from him was one day together before he had to leave. Not willing to live a life like Vega, constantly waiting for her love to return, Kairi decided to switch the roles.

She saw herself as Altair and took on the challenge of finding Sora’s whereabouts. For once in her life, Sora would await his rescue, similar to the beloved Vega. 

It was this decision that made Kairi decide to look everywhere for clues in order to obtain clues on where Sora could be. This search led her to look within her own heart, a journey made possible with the help of the Ansem the Wise and his apprentices. The scientist told Kairi that she would be put into a comatose state similar to Sora’s after his time in Castle Oblivion. Like Namine for Sora, Ansem the Wise and his apprentices would help take care of her while she slept.

The idea of once again being left in such a helpless state wasn’t the most comforting idea to Kairi. Afterall, the first time was under much more... dire circumstances. But if it had any chance of making her have a more proactive role in searching for Sora, then it’s a fear that she would nonetheless overcome.

Ansem the Wise assured her that if things went smoothly, she wouldn’t be left in such a state for too long. At first, Kairi was put to sleep for hours at a time. As progress was made, those hours turned to days.

Days turning to weeks.

Weeks to months.

Those months eventually become a year.

After a certain point Kairi stopped keeping track of time. Sometimes she would lie down and think about her time with Sora to see if her heart could make any connection to his. But those thoughts always came back to her personal declaration to act as Altair. Like the sailor, was Kairi acting too proud by making such a statement? Perhaps the trials she went through on her search weren’t enough to prove her strength? 

Of course, she’d push those thoughts away. If there was anything she’d take away from the sailor was his absolute stubbornness to achieve his goal of reaching Vega. Kairi’s persistence led her up to the present, where she found herself back at the Final World. This wasn’t Kairi’s first trip to this purgatory during her search, but it definitely was different from the previous visits. Instead of a clear blue sky, she is surrounded by an inky black, star-filled sky. 

On instinct, Kairi stares into the vast sky above, searching the countless lights until she finds Vega. Focusing her mind and heart on Sora, she walks towards the star. Eventually, the rest of the stars fade away from Kairi’s vision as her seemingly endless trek towards Vega continues. Just as she feels like giving up, far away on the horizon she sees something.

Someone.

Once Kairi registers what she sees, she makes a mad dash for the person, seemingly lit by the light of Vega. But as she continues to run, Kairi can’t help but feel like he’s only getting farther away. Still running, tears run down her eyes as she calls out his name, her words never reaching the young man.

Until suddenly, he turns around. On his face is a somber smile.

Just as her legs begin to give out, Kairi catches up with the young man and brings him into a loving embrace, the both of them falling to the ground. She has so many things to say, so many words to convey her loneliness for the past year and the relief for finding him. But after all the yelling on top of being out of breath, all Kairi can muster out is a single word. A single name.

“Sora…”

“I’m here, Kairi.”

As time passes, the two continue to lie in their embrace, enjoying each other’s company. Occasionally they would meet eyes, but Kairi always found herself nuzzling her face into Sora’s chest. In return, Sora would rest his chin on her head. To the two of them, it was like the sky was lit by only Vega and Altair. But eventually, on the horizon of The Final World, a sun begins to rise.

Sora glances at his left hand and frowns as a crystal slowly envelops it. With his other hand, he gently wakes up Kairi. At first she’s smiling at him, but her expression quickly turns to shock as the crystal enveloping Sora’s hand travels up his arm. The both of them stand up, the rising sun creating a light behind Sora as he places his right on Kairi’s cheek to wipe away a tear.

As the sun continues to rise and the star and night sky melt away, the crystal continues to overtake Sora’s body. Kairi, still in shock, is nearly unable to say anything. At least until the crystallization reaches Sora’s neck. As she opens her mouth, more tears fall from her eyes.

“Sora… I’ll come back to you. I promise!”

“I know you will.”

Just as the crystal envelops the rest of Sora’s body, he smiles at Kairi once more, tears streaming down his face. As the rising sun behind Sora overtakes him, the crystallized Sora fades away.

Falling onto her knees, Kairi lets out a pained yell as she starts to sob.

She was Altair, and she did find her Vega. But like Altair, Kairi was unable to stay with her love for more than a day.

Unable to break the cycle.

After a while, Kairi composes herself. She wipes away the tears on her face as she slowly rises from the ground.

Staring into the morning sky, Kairi makes another promise to herself.

Even if it took another year, she’d reunite with Sora. But unlike her model, Kairi swore that she wouldn’t be separated. She would take her love in her arms and never let him go. 

They would meet again, beneath the light of Vega and Altair.

---

Out of all the oneshots I’ve written up until now, I feel the most proud of this one. I’ve never really written anything with angst before, so this was a fun experiment. I blame Yoko Taro and his games as they were my inspiration for my need to create a bittersweet ending. Because of this, I want to ask you all something:

Do you think Kairi’s promise here is a hopeful one or a desperate one?

Please think about Altair and Vega when you consider your answer. This oneshot is one where I hope its readers can walk away with unique thoughts on it. Nothing is right or wrong when it comes to answering the question.

As usual, shoutout to the Sokai: Destined Oath Discord server, and a special thanks to the server member Gee for acting as my Beta Reader.

Thanks for Reading!

[imagine-loki]

Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 46 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths.     RATING: Mature   NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea​ @asimovethroughthisworld​ @blackcherry26-blog​ @we-shadowhunter2901​

Loki did not know how to respond. “Coronation? But...why, you’re not...”

“Yes, your Coronation, and no, I am not dead, clearly.” Laufey walked around the table that separated them and went closer to his son. “Your actions on the battlefield, the manner in which you carried yourself and your tireless striving to better yourself for our realm prove to me that it is time for me to become the first-ever Jotnar king to step down and not die for my son to succeed me. I am old, weary and weak, I do not have the energy and fortitude to continue this role any longer and you are ready. With a child on the way also, you are the future of our realm. A young king is the way forward,” Laufey explained calmly.

“But you…”

“I am tired, my son. I want to live out the last of my days in the wings, watching Jotunheim flourish under you as it never could under me. I want to watch my grandchildren come to be, to rest after so long of carrying the weight of the woes of the realm. The thoughts of spending the last of my life enjoying my grandchildren as they start theirs, nothing could ever give me greater joy. Already two grow within their dams, with Helbindi and his mate, who knows, perhaps even a third to come in the near future. Watching my sons grow from the small little Jotnar learning the ways of the realms, chasing one another with snowballs into men, fathers and in the case of you, Loki, into a King.”

“Father…” Loki could not process what was being said. He knew that his father saw him as his successor and knew the day would come they would discuss such a thing but to hear him speak of such now, when there seemed little reason to consider it, he could not think of a more competent response. “I am without words.” “There is nothing to say. It is decided. I spoke with Arden on your return. I asked him if he thought you were ready, he agrees with me, you are. You are the way forward for our realm, Loki. With a mate such as Ella, you will bring Jotunheim into a new and glorious era.” Loki did not know what to say with regards to that. He felt a pressure on him which made the feeling he had at the prospect of marrying Ella before he got to know her feel like nothing in comparison to the weight he now felt with his father’s words.

“We must, however, prepare for any that would argue such a decision,” Laufey stated.

Loki frowned. “Why…?” “You know how some are with regards to a grandchild of Odin Allfather being heir to our throne but they are the mere few. You heard Kristoff in the throne room yourself, even your own heritage angers some ignorant few,” Laufey thought for a moment. “For this, I think we require another to add their thoughts. When your mate is rested, I wish to speak with you both regarding the matter. She has a way of looking at situations that we do not, she may see something we do not see. She adds so greatly to everything she involves herself in, I feel she would add to this also.”

Loki found himself nodding before even thinking to answer. It was true, Ella would see angles and aspects they could not. She also brought the wealth of knowledge of dealing with the Aesir court, which he knew were often quite vocal with regards contesting Thor’s readiness to rule, he had heard that from both her and from the camp which he had shared with the Aesir through the war. “I will speak with her upon seeing her again. I just need to deal with another matter beforehand.” “What matter is this?” Loki contemplated saying nothing for a moment before deciding to be honest with his father. Inhaling deeply, he readied himself for the reaction that would come. “I insulted her with my actions, not a moment before coming to see you so I wish to find a way to apologise to her for such with a gift before forcing her to be in my presence again.”

Laufey nodded slightly. “Acknowledging your wrongs and apologising for them is an integral part of being a mate. So long as you did nothing too great, it will be easily sorted once more. She cares deeply for you, that is plain to see. Show her that you are remorseful for your actions and all will return to as it should be soon enough.”

Loki frowned. “If I am honest, Father, I genuinely expected you to admonish me.” “For what? Having an argument with your mate?” Laufey laughed at the thought. “Loki, take it from a Jotnar that has had three mates in his life, if you’re not arguing or disagreeing with at least one of them at some stage or another, you are not actually mates. I am not talking about full-blown rows with shouting or such but you will disagree and you will have times where you will not see eye to eye, that is natural, you are living beings with your own thoughts and opinions. What does matter is acknowledging when you are wrong and trying to fix it.” He put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Getting her a gift and apologising is what you stated you wished to do and I cannot fault such thoughts, do it and speak with her on this matter.” Loki nodded slightly in agreement. “What do you want from her as a mate?”

His father’s question baffled him slightly. “Sorry?”

“Your mate, what is it you wish to have with her? What sort of a life? How do you see this being in a thousand years or so?” Loki frowned at his father’s words causing Laufey to sigh. “Bertha always was the one I have loved for her knowledge of food and her heart, Farbauti for her kindness, her ability to nurture our home and children, your mother,” Laufey smiled fondly as he thought of Nal. “Norns, she was kindness and intelligence. There was nothing we could not speak about together. My life is enriched by their mere presence. To this day, I think of your mother with only the fondest of memories. When I retire for the evening, I get a sense of happiness knowing Farbauti will tell me of what she has heard since my leaving the throne room today and her ideas for both you and your brother to ready for your respective children. We will speak of how Bertha would be excited and trying to make everything they would have needed and of other matters. But what of you, what do you see as the connection between you and Ella? What makes you happy to see her, what makes you look forward to returning to your rooms later?”

“Well, the child…” “My son, please, please do not tell me that your answer is regarding the child?” Laufey implored, seeing Loki’s face, he sighed. “Loki, if all she is to you is a uterus to carry children and a mind to pick for use as you see fit…” “No, she is not.” Loki was quick to tell his father. It was true, he found himself truly enjoying being around Ella, though if he was honest, he was unsure as to what that was. “It is not like that. I...there is something when I am in her presence, it is like it soothes my mind, this knowledge that she cares so deeply, she was willing to risk her life to remain here because she felt it the right thing to do. She was willing to die for Jotunheim...Her loyalty to duty, it is incredible.” “It is commendable to a fault, but…” “But it's more than that. Her love for Jotunheim, for our home, is incredible, but how she...she knew everything about our realm she could before she ever came, thinking about that alone makes me feel as though she…” Loki thought of the sensation in his stomach in an attempt to explain it. “I cannot put it into words.” “Perhaps it is time to think it over and see if you can. For if you achieve that, you will be better able to embrace what you have and in turn, strengthen and better it. Then perhaps you will not accidentally insult her by making comment on her body changing to grow your child.”  

Loki scowled at his father. “I did no such thing.” “Good, do not do that. Take it from one who did, Nal had it that I, the King of the realm was not even allowed on the royal wing, much less my own bed for a week after that.” Loki stared in disbelief at his father. “I was not always the brightest of young men, I learnt more from doing the wrong thing than doing the right, as you can see with regards to my actions in the war. Norns, but I learnt a lesson there.” Loki could not think of an appropriate response. “Go and deal with your mate and discuss what we have spoken about here. With a nod to his father, Loki left, thinking over everything his father said.

He chewed on his father’s words as he left his rooms, thinking of what could make up for how he had insulted Ella as he did so. One thought came to him, so with an idea of what to do and a plan of how to do it, Loki rushed to deal with the situation.

*

Ella gave her mate a scathing look as he returned to their room. She watched as he cautiously approached her, his demeanour suitably meek as he did so.

“I’m so sorry.” Loki began with those words knowing that they were the least he could say. If she did not listen to them, she would most certainly not listen to anything else he said. “I am so sorry for rubbing your kindness, caring and understanding back in your face as I did. I am sorry I made you feel inferior as a mate, that I put some unrealistic definition of what is masculinity on myself and in doing so, insulted us both. There is no shame in being comforted by a mate, it is one of the reasons we choose mates as we do. You sought to care for my wellbeing and I threw it back at you so callously. I am sorry, Ella.” He noted the harshness in her features become less cold. He walked over, showing her what was in his hands, a significantly sized peculiarly shaped piece of ice. “I got you this, as an apology, but also because I saw it before I left for the war and genuinely thought you would like it.” She took the ice from him and looked at him for a moment. “Wait and watch,” he smiled.

Ella did as he requested, noting that the ice was incredibly thin and was melting quickly. She watched as it revealed its contents to her. “I…” She touched it. “It’s cold?” “It is not diamond, but permanent ice. It cannot melt, even on realms outside of this.” Loki explained. “It is not very common, we rarely mine it as it is a very difficult to source ice and it tends to not really be used for much since the realm is cold enough to simply use the ice around us, but…”

“It’s beautiful.”

Loki took the necklace and tied it around her neck before looking at her again. “It suits you.” “Thank you.” The tension remained between them for a moment, Loki unsure of if he should say anything more. “And thank you for your apology.” She gave him a small smile. “I know males have a skewed ideas of masculinity but you are not any less of a man for finding my shoulder comfortable and for getting startled at waking in your bed and not on a makeshift one on a battlefield, these are normal and entirely understandable. I cannot say I fully comprehend what you have endured, Loki, but I do understand enough to know you are tired, in body and mind and the least I can do is let you rest comfortably.”

Loki felt himself feel more guilty for his actions when he woke. He could see all she wanted was to be there in any manner she could for him. “I apologise again. I...are you alright?” Loki looked worriedly at Ella, stepping forward slightly as she froze, her hand halfway to her stomach.

“I...I think…” She took his hand and placed it to her side. “He moved…” Loki did not know what to say or think, he simply waited. For a solid minute, he kept his hand where Ella had placed it but there was no movement, feeling disheartened, he went to take his hand away but Ella stopped him. “It does not…” The words were taken from him as he felt a slight nudge against his hand, almost too faint to feel. “Is that..?” Another little nudge went against his hand.

“I think someone is reacting to you,” Ella smiled.

“It is not so simple.” “He waited for you to speak to move again,” Ella countered. “It is the first time I have felt movement, he waited for your return.” She looked down to where his hand remained on her stomach. “It’s so peculiar.”

“I do not think he realises such things as my being gone and here.” “It is entirely possible. On your return, my seidr would have surged slightly with my being happy and relieved about it so he would have sensed that if he has any seidr of his own, meaning he would realise it in some manner and my seidr reacting to you being close by, it’s not entirely impossible, pending his seidr’s strength, lest we forget that I caused my own mother to go into premature labour from the force of my own, he could very well sense it.” Loki felt his throat tighten slightly at her words. Not because of their son reacting, which was incredible in itself, but her admitting her seidr would react to her joy at him being back. He thought of when he left in the past to go to different parts of the realm on matters for different reasons, none he had shared his time with before Ella seemed to react as she had on his return, even Angrboða , who he had thought had loved him, seemed to be happy that her amusement had returned more than she was happy to see him. Ella admitting that she was so happy to see him that her seidr reacted to his return. He looked into her eyes to see that her words were genuine. He swallowed. “Thank you.” “Don’t cry. Your reputation is already in tatters because you showed some form of emotion already today.”

Though her voice was sarcastic, there was no denying that her eyes showed the words were in jest.

Loki did not even think about what he was doing as he chuckled before cupping her face with the hand that was not holding her stomach where their son had kicked, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to hers.

Ella was unsure of what to say or do. She knew that the act was one of deep caring and love in Jotnar mates, she never expected Loki to do such a thing, taking her completely by surprise as he sighed contently as he remained still.

[7team7]

Choosing Fate: Chapter 5

Fanning the flames. // Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

A/N: I hope this chapter gives you more insight on the oh so mysterious ~uchiha clan~

.

.

“Dedicating yourself to your books again, I see,” Fugaku observed. Hard to read as always, Sasuke couldn’t tell if he approved or not. He decided to be blunt.

“It’s because of her. She’s smart. It would be unwise to let it all go to waste just because she had to marry me.”

“I see. Be sure to use your time wisely.” He walked out of the study, leaving Sasuke feeling frustrated. It grated on his nerves to think of his father disapproving of how he spent his time with his wife. If Fugaku gave Sakura trouble for doing a little reading of all things, Sasuke would have a hard time holding his tongue, he thought.

He grumbled to himself as he finished laying out the materials for the evening. Since when did he get so protective over this little pink woman?

Said woman walked into the room, her hands hardly done drying after finishing washing the dishes from dinner. “Okay! I’m ready now. I didn’t want to leave your mother with all that work, sorry.” She was a bit late, but Sasuke waved his hand and said awkwardly, “No need to apologize.” It wasn’t like he was anxiously waiting or anything.

Sakura, though, had been waiting all day. She didn’t want it to seem like she was shirking her duties as a wife, even taking care to make a particularly labor intensive stew for dinner so that she wasn’t spending all her time locked away in the little room with Sasuke. No, her priorities were perfectly balanced.

“So what are we doing today?” she asked eagerly.

He gestured to the thick, dusty books on the table and the scattered loose leaf papers, “Some history.”

Uchiha family history, to be exact. He had given her tons of readings on medicine, agriculture, literature, but she was still mostly kept in the dark about the family she had married into. Sasuke was incredibly proud of his heritage, even if he had a few issues with the way things were run lately. He didn’t want Sakura to have another reason to resent their situation, but she deserved to know what she had married into.

“The Uchihas have a long-spanning history. My ancestors are some of Konoha’s founders.” Sasuke ran his hand reverently down the cover of one red book. The family tree was updated recently to include Sakura. The blank spaces for his and Itachi’s children stared back at him uncomfortably.

“Our ancestors,” Sakura softly corrected. Might as well embrace her life as Uchiha Sakura, at least out of respect for the elders before her.

When he swung his head from the book to look at her, Sakura thought he might narrow his eyes and spit out some remark that she wasn’t a pure Uchiha like he was. Instead, he smirked, “They certainly didn’t have your hair.”

She giggled, suddenly feeling shy, and turned her attention back to the table. “What’s a pottery book doing with all this? You pulled a metal working one too,” Sakura pointed out. Smart girl, but this time Sasuke hadn’t made a mistake.

“Haven’t you wondered what my father and I are up to when we leave the house?”

“Of course I have.”

He was a little stunned at her nonchalance, so he asked grumpily, “Well then why haven’t you asked?”

She shrugged, “You never seem to like it when I ask questions.”

He blinked and set his shoulders. Oh. That was true. He should work on that. Sasuke continued gruffly, “We go to sell our wares, but all of them are made by the clan. For generations we’ve specialized in firing pottery and metalworking. We’re able to withstand the high heat needed to do this kind of work. Fire is our specialty, I guess. Some of your father’s field tools are probably made by an uncle of mine.” This time, she didn’t even have to ask, the explanation just spilled out of him.

“Artisans, merchants...what can’t your family do?”

“Heal,” he said meaningfully.

.

“What if I went into town with you next time? You know, to sell my medicine. I’m sure it could help people besides just Mikoto-san.” They had wrapped up their history lesson for the day and were preparing to go to bed.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“I could go at a different time than you and your father if scheduling or space are a problem?” The market was rather packed at peak hours.

“No,” he rejected quickly, “You cannot go alone.”

Jade green eyes blinked in surprise. “What? Why not?”

He shifted uncomfortably, “The Uchihas are an old clan, remember? That means they’re very...traditional. Conservative, even.” He didn’t want to spell it out for her, knowing that many of the elders held outdated, even discriminatory, views. His Uchiha pride was often conditional these days.

Now, Sakura’s eyes narrowed. “I see. So I would require some sort of escort to protect me while I go sell what I worked hard on. I understand. Wouldn’t want to get scammed.”

He sighed. “If you ask, I will give you permission. It’s a formality. But…” he trailed off.

“But what?”

“But I would still want to go with you. It’s not always safe to go alone.”

It was Sakura’s turn to sigh. “I’ve been to the market plenty of times by myself. Remember?” Those days felt so long ago. The handsome stranger at the market was now her husband, but she couldn’t tell how much more familiar he had become with her really. He opened up slowly, giving her bits and pieces, but there was still so much left to be desired.  

“Of course I do. That doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.”

She gave him a meaningful look. After a pause, “Your mother...when she goes out, she visits other members of the clan?”

“Most of the time, yes. Nearly all her friends are Uchihas.”

“So if I wanted to go visit my family, I’d have to get your permission?”

His heart squeezed. Wasn’t he part of her family now too? “Yes.”

“I see,” she clipped.

“Well, there are some family members you can visit at will.” He wanted to save another conversation from going south.

His heart squeezed again seeing the ray of hope light up her face. “Really? Who?”

“My brother and his wife.”

.

Sakura couldn’t help but hum happily as she prepared to venture out. She felt like she woke up on the right side of the bed that morning. Itachi and Izumi lived close by, but leaving the house felt so liberating, she would’ve taken any opportunity to stretch her legs. She hadn’t seen them since the wedding and even then she didn’t get much of a chance to speak with them. She wondered what they were like, if the brothers were similar.

“Do we need to bring anything?” Sakura asked her husband before they set out.

Sasuke shrugged, “It’s just Itachi.” His brother would appreciate that they bothered visiting at all. Despite his need for privacy, he knew Itachi missed him.

“What I meant was do I need to bring anything?” Whether it was a jab at the gendered expectations within the Uchiha clan or her desire to impress, the answer was still no. Sakura sighed and decided to bring a jar of herbs, just in case. It would be rude to show up empty handed.

Their house was significantly smaller than the main house, but it still stood proudly with the classic Uchiha elegance. When Itachi opened the door it was with a warm expression, but Sakura couldn’t help but note how tired he looked. She ought to bring ginseng next time.

Izumi seemed a little on edge, but quickly relaxed after some careful small talk. She had kind eyes, but like Itachi, she looked tired. Sakura couldn’t help but notice that her hair was a bit thin and she moved without much energy. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but after observing her sister-in-law for the majority of the visit, she could tell something was wrong.

“How have you been, Sakura-san? Settling in comfortably, I hope,” Itachi said smoothly.

“Ah, everything has been..fine. I miss my parents and my siblings, but I don’t have much else to complain about,” Sakura spoke with equal diplomacy. She still had yet to figure out why they did not live in the main house and wanted to tread lightly.

With this, Itachi visibly eased up a little, “Oh? So my little brother has not been too disagreeable in the mornings?” This caused Izumi to laugh too, a more full bodied sound than Sakura expected from someone who appeared rather delicate. They both gazed fondly at Sasuke, clearly full of affection for someone who was just as much a younger brother as he was a husband.

Sasuke grumbled beside her and quickly switched the subject, “It’s been fine. We came because Sakura just learned about some of our clan’s more backwards expectations. She should know where you live.”

The other couple nodded in understanding, “It is unfortunate, isn’t it? Don’t let our father hear about this. He cannot know that his own children oppose the long standing, ah, values that our clan upholds.” Sakura heartily agreed, “I’ve tried to keep my interactions with your father to a minimum, he’s a bit intimidating. Your mother is lovely, though.”

More laughter from Izumi and Itachi: “You’ve learned our family well already. Father’s loyalties are often with the clan at large, but he means no harm. He’s too proud to ever consider that he’s wrong. And please make sure my mother doesn’t spoil Sasuke too much, he is her favorite.” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“Don’t let them pressure you too much,” Izumi advised with particular urgency. “I hope you don’t mind me speaking so plainly, but between two sons and their wives, an heir will be born soon enough.”

The gears in Sakura’s head clicked into place and she understood. Even if Fugaku was not so cruel as to effectively banish his first born son to a different home, the pressure he put on the couple to produce a child forced them away. Sakura supposed she and Sasuke weren't subject to the same pressure yet because the older son should have a child first if all went according to tradition.

“If it will be, then it will be,” Sakura said firmly. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t take care of your health in the meantime, or all the time.” She bowed her head in promise, “If you want, I can try to help.” She had a bit of knowledge on fertility (admittedly, some from farm animals) and women’s health that could be useful.

“Oh?” Izumi said with great pleasure, “We have a doctor in the family now?”

“She took care of Mother when she got sick recently. Don’t let her trick you into thinking she doesn’t know much. Her abilities are nothing short of impressive.” He didn’t expand on the lessons he’d been giving her, but he already felt bashful following his easy praise. She was his wife, after all, he supposed.

“Ah, thank you, Sasuke,” she said softly before clearing her throat. “If you’d like, I can visit more frequently and suggest herbal medicine to foster greater wellness for the both of you. And...if it gets to that point, I’d love to help with a baby.” While her experience here was also limited to farm animals, she earnestly wanted to give Izumi a hand in any way possible. Hopefully next time she visited, they could speak with greater familiarity and ease.

“We welcome your help. The Uchihas have their weaknesses, but they also love more fiercely than any other. You fit right in.”

.

The walk home was quiet, Sakura mentally taking notes on what she would bring next time, questions she would ask. She was glad that Sasuke took her to see his brother and his wife, it was a welcome relief from her routine at home.

The sun was still high enough in the sky that Sasuke said, “Wait. Before we head back, there’s somewhere else I want to take you.” Sakura tilted her head in question, but still followed him. “You’ll see when we get there.” They turned back from the path home to head in a new direction.

They didn’t need to go very far when Sasuke stopped and it was clear that they were still in an Uchiha-dominated space. The air was warm, dry and smelled of smoke.

He got right to explaining the layout and pointing out certain spots and people. “My cousin Obito over there does pottery. Don’t talk to him, he’s kind of weird. I know a bit about swordsmithing, but not nearly as much as others. My other cousin Shisui makes a fantastically thin, but sturdy blade. Every time we bring his knives to the market they get snatched up quickly for a high price. But he’s weird too.” Even if his tone was exasperated, Sakura still smiled hearing the affection he had for his family and their practice.

“There are so many of you…” Sakura said wistfully. She had always thought of her family as being big, but now she missed their familiar comfort. The Uchihas were truly a clan. They walked further into the cluster of buildings; Sakura noticed Sasuke had slowed his pace to allow her a moment to really look at their surroundings.

“And when are we going to see some more Uchiha babies running around here?” an elderly woman asked kindly as they walked past, taking a break from sweeping to smile at the married couple. Despite her good intentions, the young couple winced.

“When the time is right,” Sasuke said evenly. He nodded at her again as they passed, grabbing Sakura’s hand so she wouldn’t get caught up in an unnecessary conversation. Besides, it was getting late and it was time to return. He didn’t let go until they reached the wide road to the house.

Sakura was glad to finally get some insight on the Uchiha clan, but the knowledge of it all weighed heavily on her shoulders. She looked forward to taking a bath at home.

.

The old woman’s words echoed in his mind. He knew they were expected to have children eventually, but he tried to push that thought away as soon as it threatened to crop up. The thought of Sakura pregnant with his child made his neck prickle with heat. He stood by his words: when the time was right, they would bring a child into the world. But that time was not now, not yet. He felt a little better after making himself some tea. It was time for bed, the day had been long.

Sasuke swung the door to their bedroom open without a thought, only to be faced with the creamy expanse of Sakura’s back as she finished getting dressed. The skin there looked pale, smooth, and soft, unmarred by the harsh touch of the sun. “Why didn’t you tell me you were changing?” Sasuke bit out more harshly than intended, more embarrassed than mad. He closed the door behind him but turned to face the side wall after entering.  

“Do I need your permission to do everything?” Sakura asked sharply.

“Sakura, it’s not like that —”

“I know.” As she adjusted her clothes, she sighed, “It’s just that..we are married.”

“I know.”

.

.

[kuramirocket]

Sharing the beauty of Mexican American culture through stories of shocking social injustices and steadfast hope, the 2021 recipients for the Tomás Rivera Mexican American Children’s Book Award reflect on the growing impact of their work.

The award is named after Tomás Rivera, Texas State's first Mexican American Distinguished Alumnus. Established in 1995 by the College of Education, the award seeks to celebrate authors and illustrators across the country who are dedicated to showcasing Mexican American values and culture.

Author and illustrator Duncan Tonatiuh won the award based on his latest book, "Feathered Serpent and the Five Suns: A Mesoamerican Creation Myth." The book was inspired by Mexico’s pre-Columbian myths and shares the legend of the Quetzalcóatl—the Feathered Serpent, a deity who embarks on the journey to create humankind.

By revealing the tales of pre-Columbian legends through his books, Tonatiuh says he hopes to educate Mexican American children on mythologies within their own culture, serving as a reflection of their identity and heritage.

“I think kids will be curious and want to learn,” Tonatiuh says. “I think we’re so used to hearing about the Greek heroes, the Greek gods and other mythologies. But also discovering that there are mythologies in other parts of the world and kind of maybe connecting to some of that.”

After moving to the U.S. from Mexico at 15, Tonatiuh relied on his love for writing and illustrating to find comfort when he missed his childhood home.

Now having written and illustrated 10 books and receiving numerous awards, Tonatiuh says he hopes his books provide a sense of familiarity and encourage children to embrace their culture.

“I think when students see themselves in books it just lets them know their experiences, voices [and] culture is important,” Tonatiuh says. “One thing I think is sometimes immigrants or minorities in the U.S. feel they need to assimilate to be a good American, but I think it’s quite the opposite. Rather, I think it shouldn’t be something kids or students should be ashamed of, I think it’s something that they should be proud of.”

For Sonia Gutiérrez, another 2021 recipient of the Tomás Rivera Award and author of "Dreaming with Mariposas," the award is a great honor. She views the prize as a way to increase awareness of Latino bigotry, Mexican immigration and social injustice.

"It gets me teary,” Gutiérrez says. “I’m so proud of all the hard work and Tomás Rivera’s spirit in my writing. It’s an honor, a humbling experience [and] it gives me great pride to represent a group of people that have been demonized and targeted by anti-immigration rhetoric

"Dreaming with Mariposas" delineates the story of the Martínez's family through the eyes of transboundary Sofía “Chofi” Martínez. Witnessing institutional racism, sexual harassment and colorism, Sofía learns to navigate her dreams as she discovers her superpower: The strength of her Mexican Indigenous heritage and the spirit world.

“I needed to create a character that could show the way and inspire young women,” Gutiérrez says. “I also juxtapose the generation of women that had to deal with domestic violence and being tied to the domestic sphere. Yes, this book is for young women, but I also wanted to show young men, young readers the toxicity of masculinity. The drinking [and] the violence against a woman's body, it's definitely a book that I created to speak to the next generations.”

Pouring their hearts into their books, the Tomás Rivera recipients say they are glad to see their efforts come full circle as they share the capability of the Mexican American community.

Social injustice activist and author of "The Spirit of Chicano Park/El espíritu del Parque Chicano," Beatrice Zamora was inspired to create her book just in time for the 50th anniversary of Chicano Park located in San Diego.

Zamora shares the story of Bettie and Bonky, new residents of the historical Barrio Logan, who discover the magical park. With the help of a mystical "señora," they travel through a historical journey, showing the community’s struggle to build a park and learn the true history of Chicano Park.

Inspired by the real community of Barrio Logan, San Diego's oldest Mexican American neighborhood, Zamora says the park is a testimony to Mexican American vigor.

“The park has become a symbol for self-determination and for cultural preservation,” Zamora says. “People come from all over the place just to see the park. In 2016, it was actually named a national historic landmark, and so I felt it was important to capture this history for children, especially. To understand that they matter and they have a voice, [so] they can take action to make their neighborhoods beautiful, to preserve their culture and to live in this country as full participants.”

In an effort to stay true to the history of Chicano Park, Zamora and her husband, Mario E. Aguilar, formed their own publication, Tolteca Press, to preserve Chicano cultural through bilingual books.

Zamora says bilingual books are important for Mexican American children, so they may see themselves reflected in the books they read, the history they study and the world they live in.

“I hope that children take from the book that they matter,” Zamora says. “That their voice matters, they are important to the world we live in and their culture is beautiful. I hope that parents realize that the education of their children is important and if they see something that brings them displeasure in their community that [they] should look into it, that they should take action."

"I would hope that educators understand that it's important to have diverse voices, to have a broader perspective on the fact that people of color matter in this country. It’s what this country was founded upon, so diversity is important.”

[fratresdei]

A Letter to My Beloved White Friends, by Karla Johnson

Karla Johnson, a member of my spiritual direction training cohort from back in the day, has graciously given us permission to share powerful, needed words from her blog this month. Find the original post in the comments, and subscribe to her blog to read more letters to come. The original text is reproduced below.

Dear White Friends:

You are lost. “Hurt, mad, insulted, grief-stricken and enraged more than I can say,” as my dear white uncle said. You don’t know what to do. You want to help—and of course you do. You’re a good person. This is my attempt at sharing guidance, from someone who holds both black and white inside of my skin.

I love you, my dear white friends. Let’s start there. You are my brothers, sisters, best friends, teachers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. You and I belong to one another. I am also an African American woman, by bloodline, culture and identity. African Americans are my brothers, sisters, best friends, teachers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. I was born with inherited racial trauma. (Inherited trauma is a thing—you can look it up). I have hordes of relatives, but only one who is a cop; a close cousin, who wears his badge with honor, excellence, and commitment. He’s also black. I pray for him often during times of (visible) racial unrest, and break into scared tears every time I pray. My heart, through an odd positioning, spans the width of our collective racial anguish.

Still, there is something deeper than any other identity I carry, with the exception of my faith. I am a mother. A black mother of two young black men whom I carried, painfully labored into birth and successfully raised through some very tough times. Any mother can understand that my children are my greatest pride and my deepest love. So please understand that racialized violence hits me different.

My dear white friends, most of you don’t know what to do. Here are some tips, from your white-skinned black sister:

I want you to imagine witnessing a terrible car accident. Then imagine walking up to one of the wrecked cars, finding someone who is still bloody and injured, and saying: “watching you go through that trauma was hard for me. Can you please give me some emotional support?” That’s what you do when you ask black people to help you deal with your angst. The phrase I’ve been using these past few days is this: “As a black woman, I’m struggling to take down my own bitter cup. Please, dear white brothers and sisters, stop trying to pass me your internal poison so that you can find relief.” If you’ve done this, you didn’t know what you didn’t know. You’re forgiven. But please stop.

If you want to understand, do some homework. That can be as easy as a google search. There are essays, blogs, books and articles galore which can help you get a better feel for what’s happening.

If you have black friends (or friendly black acquaintances) please check in on them without agenda. If that feels strange, imagine that they lost a distant-but-important relative, because that’s what it feels like. Dear white friends, you know how to offer comfort during loss, so there’s no need to be intimidated. Just send a simple text: “Just checking in. Is there anything I can do?” or “Thinking of you. Are you okay?” Let them know that they are more than a headline to you. If you are a praying person, pray for them and let them know.

Don’t talk about the issue or the headlines unless you already have a strong friendship with that person. It is awkward and unwelcomed to bring discussions of racism to a random black person in the grocery store or some such thing. Just like you, all they want to do is pick up their eggs and get home. Part of the difficulty of being in black skin in America is constantly being recruited as teacher, sounding board and priest to white people’s racial angst. Please let black people go about their days without such recruitment.

When you interact with black people, for the love of God, stay white. Nothing is more insulting than watching a Caucasian person try to use language, inflections or gestures which are not theirs in some awkward attempt to prove—with neon signs—that they are not a racist. I know this sounds strange, but black people know you are not black. They can tell just by looking. If you don’t want to look like a racist, be yourself, no matter who you are addressing.

Embrace the fact that you are a good person on the wrong side of an ugly history. You would never pull a trigger on a black person just because they are black. But, like me, your ancestors built this system. People who look like you continue to perpetrate this horror. That doesn’t make you guilty, that makes you and I unwilling recipients of an ungodly inheritance. We can’t keep pretending that isn’t true. The good news is your heritage also gives you tons of power to affect change. Make peace with what your (and my) people have built. Then consider—-from your position of lament—affecting change, even if that change is in your own perspective and social circles.

If you experience anger against you because you’re white, learn to deal with it without lashing out or diving into shame. I’m sorry, my dear white friend, but you must let go of the idea that you can be part of the solution without having your sense of innocence disrupted or called into question. And if you don’t have any tools to absorb feeling falsely accused because of the color of your skin? That is something a person of color may be able to help you with, if you are sincere in wanting to learn and can come to the question with neither defensiveness nor agenda.

Your guilt and your shame doesn’t do the tiniest bits of good to anyone, black or white. Work through it. It’s not helping.

Be aware that you are losing something personally important to you. You hate the circumstances, but as the scales of justice try to right themselves, you are losing your sense of security and your assumed power base. That loss is real. And eventually, that loss will make you feel threatened. (Even as you remain outraged against the racism.) That doesn’t make you a monster, that makes you a person. But please don’t take those feelings to the cause, and please keep tabs on your own, understandable defensiveness.

Especially in our culture, we hate to admit our own privilege—even to ourselves. I am an embarrassed participant in this dysfunction, and have often struggled to admit (much less claim) my own privilege. Please confront the lie that you are not privileged because, like me, your privilege is enormous.

You need not feel accused nor ashamed nor “less-than” because you hold privilege. You have also struggled, endured hardships, worked hard, and suffered. You’ve known pain. Your privilege does not detract from, lessen, or mitigate that reality. You get to own your story without excuse, no matter what privileges you’ve been afforded. You need not defend anything.

As a Caucasian brother recently said to me, “white people murdering black people is not a black problem. It is a white problem.” I can add nothing to his words.

Imagine walking into a room full of black people, where you are the only one with white skin. Then imagine someone bringing up your skin color, and having the whole room swivel to stare at you, hoping for answers, jokes and/or comment. If you see one or two black people in mostly-white room, please don’t put them in that position. And if someone else does, be willing to speak up and align yourself against the awkwardness. The same goes for social media exchanges.

If you interact with a black person, don’t point out the differing skin tones. Again, they can tell you aren’t of the same race all by themselves. Treat them as a person versus a skin color. Kindness and authentic respect is what transcends differences and puts people at ease.

Don’t let the devil tell you that you have no right to be angry just because you’re white. Of course you should be angry. This is a human story, not a story contained in black skin. Your ethnic background does not cheapen your lament. Your anger is well-placed, valid and necessary.

Black people need your voice, and we need your involvement. Traumatized people do not make the best advocates. Traumatized people—no matter where the trauma comes from—are angry, shut down, and often counterproductive. As long as you leave it up to black people to speak out, you are making unreasonable demands of the group you want to help. Speak up, dear white friends. Step up and speak up. We don’t need you to share our trauma, we need you to stand against what perpetuates the pain.

You can’t crawl into a black person’s skin in order to understand what is going on. You couldn’t possibly know what it is like, and if you could for a moment, it would shut you down. I promise. You must address, understand and process this issue from your lens, your white skin, and your unique perspective.

If you want to help, aspire to becoming the white person who gives other white people a touch-point to their own racialized angst. Be a bridge which helps other white people engage without shutting down or blaming the victims.

Ask yourself what you are called to do. That will look different for everyone. Every bit counts. Just don’t disengage and leave it to the people who are being harmed.  We can all do something, as this is our nation.

If you’ve been guilty of any and/or all of the hardships I’ve mentioned, remember you didn’t know what you didn’t know. I know you didn’t mean it—that goes without saying. The only thing we can do is be truthful, be gracious, learn from our circumstances, and move forward. Like Maya Angelou said, “when you know better, you do better.”

You are a good person. Just be yourself, because sincerity goes a long way. Awkwardness and missteps can be forgiven—trust me, black people are used to it. Your genuine compassion and concern are what matter. And your sincere engagement matters even more.

Dear White Friends. I love you. You are my brothers, sisters, best friends, teachers, cousins, nieces, and nephews. You and I belong to one another. Keep being the people who may not understand, but who remain good, decent, and compassionate human beings. Embrace change, and if you want to help, start by taking hold of your own cup—it is plenty bitter enough.

And yes. If this has helped you, please pass it on, using [the link in the comments.]

Sincerely yours, Karla Johnson

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

As You Are

Chapter: Beyond MIdgard (Chapter 3 of ?)

Co-authors: hopeless_romantic_spoonie, yespolkadotkitty

Summary: While in Asgard, Loki has a haunting secret he needs to reveal to Spoons.

Entire series found on Ao3 here :)

A/N: Co-written with my smut sister, @yespolkadotkitty​

Taglist: @vodka-and-some-sass​ @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic​ @myoxisbroken​ @nonsensicalobsessions​

Warning: There be smut ahead.

“And I find another mortal in my court,” Odin finished, his one good eye staring out at his sons.

Loki folded his arms over his chest and did his best to maintain the bored expression he’d trained himself to wear around his father. He glanced at Thor. The golden boy of the pair nodded once, imperceptibly, and Loki knew that whatever his faults, his brother would have his back on this, if nothing else.

“I did not bring her here for you to judge, Father.” The word dripped with snark and Thor subtly elbowed Loki, reminding him to show a little respect. Loki ignored the jab. He wasn’t going to take any insults for his dear Spoons, let alone from Odin.

“Then why did you?” Odin asked imperiously. “And where is your mortal dalliance, Thor?”

His brother’s face tensed. “I have asked you on several occasions not to speak of Jane thus.”

Odin merely raised a brow like he’d heard all this before, and wasn’t interested in any opinion other than his own.

“I brought her here so she would know Asgard. Where I was raised. So to speak,” Loki finally said, his voice echoing to his own ears in the chamber. “She is… I love her.”

Odin’s eyebrow raised further than Loki had ever seen it in his lifetime. “You think you love her, boy,” the old man rumbled.

“‘Tis true, Father,” Thor intoned quietly but firmly, brokering no argument. “I have never seen Loki so… At peace with himself.”

“Is that so?” Odin asked, his tone lazy, like he cared not for the answer whatever it was. “And what about when she grows weak and old, as Midgardians do? What about in the Winter of her mortal life? What then?”

Loki pressed his lips together. To tell Odin that he planned to ask for the apple would surely mean the tyrant destroyed every one he could find out of spite for the stolen child he had taken long ago during wartime.

But to say nothing….

He glanced at Thor, feeling a kinship with his brother that hadn’t been there for some time. Years. Their love for mortals had brought them together again, and he was grateful for it.

“You mean to ask Frigga,” Odin murmured, his eye narrowed in appraisal as he stared at his sons - united in their affections for mortal women.

“Yes.” No hiding it now, Loki thought, frustration simmering in his belly. “If you have anything to say, say it here, or forever hold your tongue.”

“Oh, I have plenty to say,” Odin began. “But little of it that you will want to hear, to abide by. You have ever forged your own path, regardless of my opinion of it, Loki.” His eye raked down his adopted son’s long form. “The mortal knows, I assume? Of your Jotun heritage?”

Loki shifted uncomfortably. She knew. She hadn’t seen. But that would not matter to someone like her. Would it?

“Of course,” he lied, the words falling smoothly from his lips.

“And she has seen your true form and loves you, still?” Odin pressed, settling his weight back on his heels, his brow arched in disbelief.

Loki nodded, not trusting himself to speak the lie out loud. They hadn’t exchanged such proclamations of love, but he would not rush it. That small facet of information did not need to be made clear.

“Father, enough,” Thor commanded quietly.

Odin bristled at his son’s tone but inclined his head. “As we have concluded business, we should return to your mother.”

As they walked together from the throne room, fury coiled tightly in his belly. The shred of doubt had been planted by his poisonous father, and it festered.

~~~

Tension immediately seeped out of your tightly-wound frame when Loki stalked into the garden. The conversation had taken a turn for the serious with his mother, and you were far too exhausted and a little too pained to uphold your politeness beneath such scrutiny, however gentle and well meant, for too much longer.

“Getting along well, are we?” Loki asked, coming up to the duo. He embraced his mother with one arm, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head before releasing her to do the same to you.

“We were just having a lovely chat, woman to woman,.” Frigga graced the pair with a warm smile, her serene face giving absolutely nothing away as to what you’d discussed. The woman had serious game.

You slipped your hand into the crook of Loki’s elbow, leaning on him lightly as the travels of the day weighed down on your aching body. Traveling through the Bifrost, riding on horseback, walking around the expansive palace, and the added strain of meeting the King and Queen of basically everything you knew to be had taken its toll on your body. His face revealed what had probably been a stressful conversation with his father as well, if the crease between his eyebrows and the taut muscles beneath your hand were anything to go by.

Frigga tilted her head in her regal, enigmatic way. “Loki. I’d wager your guest needs some time to recover after the journey, and a moment to acclimate to Asgard. Perhaps you should take her to your quarters to refresh herself.”

Thank goodness. An excuse to take a moment away with him wasn’t one that you were going to turn down. “I’d love to see your rooms.”

“Who am I to turn down such a request?” Loki asked, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Before you could reflect on that, he bowed his head lightly to his mother and led you off back in the direction of the castle.

As you walked with him, you took notice of the small differences in how he was received compared to his mother. Instead of warm smiles and bowed heads, he was met with cold stares, and the backs of subjects you passed turned away to focus on meaningless tasks. The response made your blood boil in your veins. He should be afforded all the respect of his family, who were greeted with open happiness or at least admiration, at each turn - even Odin, miserable as he seemed. You held your head up higher, showing without words your pride in being seen with the dark prince, despite the nagging pain lighting up your legs, pulling your shoulders back at the confused glances sent your way.

If you weren’t already an oddity for being a Midgardian, then your appearance on Loki’s arm, wearing his colors no less, certainly did the trick.

“And these are my chambers,” Loki said quietly, breaking your train of thought. He pushed open two imposing, elaborately carved golden doors, releasing you from his grasp so that you had the opportunity to explore as you pleased.

The suite was grand, the visible area alone larger than your entire studio apartment doubled. The beautiful Asgardian skyline was visible through high stone arches leading out onto a grand terrace, illuminating and reflecting off golden accents dotted around the room. His signature colors of green and black raced over the lush bedspread covering the largest bed you’d ever seen, complete with intricate wrought iron headboard, the heavy drapes covering the walls, and a plush rug that was spread out in front of a dark fireplace. And each wall was covered with bookshelves full to the brim with books of all different thicknesses and colors, itching to be plucked from the rest and perused on one of the two elegant wooden chairs currently soaking up the sunshine on the terrace.

He hovered behind you, waiting for your response, giving you space as you slowly walked about the room. Your feet carried you in a lackadaisical path to the bed, stopping to brush your hands over a stack of thick tomes, pausing to admire a small display of daggers. You sat down on the soft mattress with an audible sigh, the giving cushion beneath you most welcome.

Loki closed the doors behind himself, locking them with a loud click before turning to you once again. His shoulders were practically up to his ears as he shoved his hands behind his back, and his eyes stared holes in the stone wall behind you. His jaw was set, a muscle ticking there occasionally, revealing the gears silently turning in his head.

“What’s wrong? Conversation with your brother and Odin not go so well?” you asked, patting the bed next to you invitingly. He was so far away, lingering at the door of his rooms like a ghoul, and you craved the comfort of his touch to soothe your frayed nerves.

His eyes flitted down to yours, reading your expression thoroughly as if he could see into your very soul with his penetrating gaze. “It was to be expected. He is a stubborn old man set in his ways.”

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but it seemed the only one he was going to give at this time. Maybe a lighter topic of conversation would help ease his anxieties a bit? “Your mother seems lovely. She’s very… perceptive.”

The barest of smiles tugged on his lips, and he took a few steps closer to you. He brought one hand up, scrubbing it over his face, revealing a fatigued expression in its wake. “I…” he shook his head, putting his hands on his narrow hips and dropping his chin down to his chest as he puzzled over whatever was bothering him. His eyes were shuttered.

Stifling the moan of pain that wanted to creep up from deep inside of you, you heaved yourself up off of the bed, closing the distance between you so that he was forced to look into your eyes. You reached out to take one of his hands gently, trying to reassure him with your touch. “You can talk to me, Loki. What’s going on?”

He pulled his hand away to cross his arms over his leather-clad chest, closing himself off from you. Hesitation was written in the tightness of his eyes. After several lengthy moments of silence, he turned his back to you, addressing the wall, his words cold and stilted as if practiced. “I am not Asgardian.”

“Well, I know that. Everybody knows how you and Thor aren’t really brothers, but that doesn’t mean anything. At least it didn’t seem that way to your mother. She seemed to love you very much when we were talking,” you replied slowly, trying to get to the root of his problem. Your hand settled lightly on the dip of his spine between his shoulder blades, trying to maintain a physical connection to break through whatever was plaguing him.

“No. When I say that I am not Asgardian, I mean to say that I am from another realm. Jotunheim, to be exact,” he corrected you, firmly, but without malice to harden his tone.

“Okay… So you’re Jotunheimian?”

Your hand slid over his back to stop over his heart when he turned around to face you again. “I am Jotun. The creatures that inhabit that world are called Frost Giants-”

You cut him off with a smile. “-That explains the height.”

“Just listen to me, please,” he snapped, voice raised to almost be considered a shout. You jumped back at the suddenness of it, your hands curling into your chest protectively, and his face softened immediately. His long-fingered hands set about undoing the various stays and ties holding his armor on his slender frame.

Heat flushed onto your cheeks. He wanted to get naked now...? “Loki, maybe now isn’t the time.”

He rolled his eyes. “I am not trying to seduce you, kitten. It would help,” he dropped the heavy clothing to the floor behind him, “if you could see more of my body to make my point.”

You felt the weight of his stare as slowly, a blue tint crept across his exposed flesh, starting from the waistband of his pants, creeping up his body until it replaced every inch of creamy skin. You lifted your eyes to his, startled when the deep green you had come to know was replaced with a bright burning red. The intensity of his pleading stare, the pain and vulnerability, held you captive as his arms stretched out from his sides.

“When we first spoke, I mentioned knowing what it was to be different to those around you on the inside, but appear as everyone else on the outside. This is what I meant. I am this creature, a monster I was raised to despise and view as lesser than beings from the other realms,” he admitted, his voice deadly quiet, as if he spoke any louder it would frighten you away. “I felt it prudent to reveal my whole self to you before… Before our relationship progressed any further. To give you the choice to care for me, or not, with all the facts laid out before you.”

Your eyes left his, darting out to the sunlight streaming over the balcony invitingly. An idea formed. “Can anyone see us if we go outside?”

“No, one of the few allowances I am granted as a prince is that of a private terrace,” he replied slowly, dark brow furrowed.

“Can I see you in the light?” you asked, offering him a gentle smile, taking a few steps in that direction and holding your hand out to him.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and nodded, taking your hand and guiding you outside. You didn’t let go of him once you were able to see him in his full glory, instead pulling him so that your back was supported by the rough stone wall and he was positioned in front of you.

He was glorious. The bright light only highlighted the various shades of red shining in his eyes, and the lighter blue ridges that were scattered across his skin. Deep down he was still Loki, still the wonderful man who had taken your heart for his piece by piece, with each kiss and smile and poetic utterance, and this didn’t change that. One bit.

You tugged on him so that he stood close enough for your other hand to skate along his abdomen, the muscles there fluttering beneath your familiar touch.

“You care for me despite the limits of my physical body, yes?”

The smallest of grins tugged on his indigo lips as he looked down at you. “I do, very much.”

You brought your entwined fingers up to your lips, peppering light kisses over his knuckles. “And I lo-” you stopped yourself from uttering that word. You couldn’t handle that sort of rejection when you were already overwhelmed by your surroundings. “And the hold that you have on my heart is no different. You could be purple, or yellow, or have multicolored eyes, and it wouldn’t scare me away. I have news for you, pal. You’re stuck with me, Loki, whether you-”

He cut you off with a searing kiss, pinning your body between his and the palace wall behind you. The outpouring of his relief and joy was tangible, felt in the way his tongue sought entrance into your mouth and his hands skimmed along your sides to hook beneath your thighs and lift your legs to wrap around his waist.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, tangling in his long raven hair as you deepened the kiss, warmth flooding your body from the gentle rocking of his arousal into your pulsing center and tongue exploring the depths of your mouth expertly, coaxing soft moans from you.

His heated touch seared your skin as he dragged his lips down your jaw to the pulse hammering in your throat, kissing and sucking on the sensitive flesh with just enough pressure to send tendrils of electricity sizzling to your core. Panting, you tapped on the back of his neck, knowing that you couldn’t hold this position for long but not wanting to break the moment for anything. “Bed. Now.”

A pleased hum thrummed through your skin where his mouth had sealed over your collarbone, and he supported your weight easily as he carried you inside and to the bed, gently lowering your back onto the expansive surface without breaking his hold on you.

Your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open to take him in as he left you on the bed to stand beside it, his porcelain skin and green eyes having returned, watching him as he quickly shed his pants to reveal nothing underneath, his cock springing to attention against his stomach. Hunger darkened his gaze as he knelt beside you, his calloused fingertips rasping against your skin deliciously as he helped you shed the remainder of your clothing until you were both bare before the other.

“I must have you,” he growled, voice raspy and deep as he settled himself between your spread legs, sliding his arms behind your back to press your bare chests together. The rub of his skin against your pebbled nipples made you hiss through your teeth at the almost agonizing thrill of it.

Your hands found purchase on the cut of muscles at his waist, and you squeezed him gently, shaking your head. “Not like this. In your Jotun form,” you commanded breathlessly, wanting him to know that you fully accepted him, no matter what appearance he held. "Please."

The briefest flash of shock was wiped away by the strongest awe you had ever seen grace his face. Murmuring your name reverently, he claimed his mouth for yours just as he slid inside of you in one slow and steady motion, filling you completely and breaking the kiss so you could both gasp for air the other had stolen. As he did so, the now familiar blue swept over his body, complete with the beautifully patterned, ridged skin.

His forehead fell onto your shoulder as his back bowed over you, his steady thrusts just the right angle and speed to heighten the pleasure slowly tightening at your center. His teeth grazed against the heaving top of your breast, sending chills down your spine. The almost punishing pace he set meant you could do nothing but hold onto him, hands clutching at the flexing and rolling muscles of his back, as you both climbed towards the peak of your euphoria together.

One arm unwound itself from beneath you to slide between your bodies, seeking out your hardened nub of almost over-stimulated nerve endings that throbbed with the rapid drum of your heart, rubbing it furiously to give you that last needed friction.

With a cry that echoed throughout the vast room, your orgasm washed over you in a wave that had you clenching around him, milking his completion from him as well. Your name tumbled from his lips in a loud groan, barely muffled by his mouth against your sweat-dampened chest.

Carefully he collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you so that you were half-lying on top of him in one smooth motion. Your legs tangled with his and your arm draped across his chest naturally, a position that you had assumed many times before until your back protested. It was comforting to listen to his racing heart slow beneath your ear, feel his chest expand and contract as his breathing returned back to normal.

You traced your fingers over the swirling ridges on his still-blue skin, marveling at the deep colour and the pleasant texture. He was beautiful.

“Thank you for visiting Asgard with me, love,” he murmured, stroking the length of your spine languidly, hushing the ache leftover from his avid lovemaking.

Love? Surely he hadn’t meant to use that endearment; he was simply sated and exhausted from his efforts. Choosing to ignore it, to not let yourself hope that his feelings matched yours, you tilted your head to leave a light peck on his sternum. “With a reception like that, I will return anytime you want," you replied cheekily.

"My mortal minx." He snuggled into you, his cheek pressed to your hair. "I would not change you for all the treasure in the Nine Realms."

As the two moons rose together beyond Loki's private terrace, you slept as Asgard settled around you, the scones in the palace going out one by one, until only starlight remained.

[orthographewrites]

🌙 oliver

SEND A SYMBOL FOR…🌙 a time my muse told the truth:

It was Tuesday. Ten days had passed since their departure from his homecity. The nights had grown chilly, but not to the point of needing an excess ofcover to keep yourself warm – something neither of them possessed any problemswith at current time. There was a silence that had run deep for the past hour,with nothing but the crackling of an almost fizzed out fire (barely showcasingthe area around it) and the late night’s humble winds to keep them company.Fatigue ran clear through them both, but one more so than the other and foronce in his own life he preyed for the opportunity to close his eyes and lurehimself to sleep to skip past the antagonizing reasons for him to turn backhome again.

Why was he here, fighting someone else’s hardships? It was a question thathad jumped back and forth, with no clear answer to be heard and leaving hishead in stirred up place; nor was it one he was allowed to dwell on for long,as the faint sounds of clothes and leaves shifting across the fire forced hisattention and senses elsewhere. His head turned in its direction right on timeto catch Caden push herself off the ground and into a seated position, her noseletting out a huff of boredom. ( @alicemorganwrites )

“I can’t sleep and I know you’re awake as well.” Caden’s voice brokethrough like an unwanted guest, leaving much to be desired in terms ofregaining the previous silence he had enjoyed to its fullest. “Let’s do something.”

“Like what?” The words came with a spoken frown, but even so Oliver choseto follow in Caden’s step and remove himself from the harshness of the dirtbelow him. He casually shrugged off a leaf dangling from his sleeve, eyes sharpas they traveled in the direction of his company.

“Hm… let’s talk. How about it?” Unlike him, Caden’s own stare held somethingcurious, if not mischievous to it. Her hand reached for a stick next to herfeet, twirling it between her fingers as she calculated her next step. “I mean…all and all I have been exposing quite a lot about myself this past month withyou and I only think it’s fair if you gave me something back. We could just aswell be dead by the end of the week, so why not?”

Why not? Oh, he could think of at least a hundred reasons as to why not butdecided to bite his tongue, far from being in the shape to verbally argue withsomeone. “I think you know enough about me – I’m not all that interesting.”

Throwing the stick into the fire, Caden quickly shook her head to dismisshis words. “And I think there’s more to it. I’ve seen some of it, yes but there’salso quite a lot about your whole situation which doesn’t make sense to me.”

“And that is?” Oliver felt his body stiffen the further Caden spoke, a distastetaking place inside his mouth as he braced for the next section of theirconversation – not impressed by the direction they were heading at.

“Yeah like that whole ordeal with everyone hating you and all that crap.Don’t get me wrong, I can see why in certain angles, like you do haveone hell of a bad attitude but I wouldn’t say it’s enough of a reason for peopleto want you to basically… drop dead, or whatever.”

Of course it had to be that, of fucking course. And if his body hadn’t beentense before, it certainly was now as he pondered on his options – not enjoyinganything this topic implied, hardly the thing to get him into a chatty mood.Thus, he let out a snort, shaking his head slowly. “You really couldn’t havepicked something a bit more light-hearted? It’s a load of bullshit, that’s whatit is, people who can’t accept change in their lives but alas that’s what we arelike as a community. Witches are hard with their customs and traditions, and myfamily has kept them safe for as long as we can remember. I wasn’t part oftheir long-term plans and I guess I also have the power of getting on theirnerves by not playing by their rules. They can’t control me and I’m unpredictable,far from the type of person my sister seemed to be – and you already know someof the story behind her, don’t you? I won’t go into detail; it won’t do any ofus any good and I need to keep my head clear so… all I can say is that this isn’ta happy story nor does it come with a happy conclusion. But sure, ask and youshall receive.” Oliver’s tone was near mocking at the end of his sentence,a snarl of truth for what was about to leave his mouth. 

A singular sigh was tofollow as he shuffled closer to the fire, a way for him to embrace the memoriesthat were about to crack through the surface and sort through the parts hewished to share.

“I’m not going to go into any deeper details, because trust me: you do notwant to deal with that.” The sharpness in his tone lingered on, but there wassomething more foreboding about the way he let the warning slip into the openair between them. A point of no return, asking Caden to be happy with what shewas given. He would tell her what he comfortable with sharing, no more or lessthan that. “But, I’ll try and give you enough so that you can understand why thingsmight have turned the way it have – at least in the way I see it and to start itall off I’ll have to make you understand one thing. Us witches are people who prideourselves on our heritage and most of us don’t enjoy change or a stir in ourordinary lives. Not all, but the majority will be found sharing the sameopinions and strive for a similar lifestyle; and having a bunch of people stuckinside the same walls for generations really isn’t a pointer for individualthinking.”

“Now, what you sort of found out about me is that I used to have a sister alittle older than myself – Cecilia, or Cilia as we called her.” His sister’sname forever tasted of something bitter these days, a bite into a dusty pieceof memory he wanted to spit out and leave behind; to dig down deep undergroundwhere it could stop haunting him. “Well, believe it or not but she was the onesupposed to take after my dad and I can hardly remember a soul who disliked herback home or was against the idea of finally getting another female Head ofMagic to watch over them. People were ecstatic, to be exact to know she wasnext in line and quite frankly I think she would have been perfect at the job.She enjoyed rules and order, excelled in school, had great manners and showedquite an interest with her future already as a fucking twelve-year-old. Now,compare that with me.” There was a pause, mentally sighing at the fact he hadto push on. “I mean, quite frankly I was seven at the time of, well, everything…and you can’t expect a seven-year-old to have their life in check, now can you?I was still playing with my crayons and making my sister’s life a living hellas brothers do – but no one saw it like that.”

There came that familiar gut-wrenching feeling again, it made him dizzy toa point of wanting to cut off the conversation and lay down for a bit. Heexhaled slowly, buying himself time to muster up the coming parts. “This iswhere us disliking change comes in, as in my sister falling out of the pictureand them getting stuck with me as their future. Sometimes I want to believethey simply glorified her too much, but at the same time – did they really? Ican’t remember. Anyway, people didn’t hold back on their opinions regarding me,about their distaste for their situation and what it could lead to in the longrun. No one said it straight to me, at least not at first, but it became quiteevident as school came around the corner and I became something of a dislikeamong children and adults equally – although I tend to give the kids a passthese days, they probably just went along with what their parents told them.Not that it hurt any less, of course, but I find school to have been the leastof my issues.”

“Eventually, as I grew older, people stopped tip-toeing around me – especiallysince they started to expect more out of me around this point. They wanted meto show some dedication to the town, to get further into politics, to mingleabout and make a good impression – whilst they also liked to put me down andremind me that I’d never be as good or important as my sister. Overall, they wouldhave preferred if I was my sister, you understand but sadly I haven’t figuredout a way to pull people back from the dead yet… maybe someday, huh.” Oliverscoffed, wincing his nose at the thought. “However, the full-on backlash youexperienced whilst in town didn’t really come my way until I moved to Rennes.I, uh, sort of had a bit of a meltdown you could say as I finally found myselftaking over the office. I wasn’t ready for it, at all, and I needed some timeaway to think things over but alas everyone took it the wrong way and startedto spread rumors about me abandoning my job – and them – to live life elsewhere.They started to call me a coward and how the fuck knows what behind my back, Idon’t really care these days.” Not the full truth. 

“But yeah, can’t say it did a positive number on meand instead of giving the job a second try I, as you might have guessed, stayeddown in Rennes and began to work from a distance. I just feel… awful, like I want to vomit every time I’m supposed to head home. I can’t stay there for toolong nor do I feel welcome, anyway. It’s a situation that’s out of my hand atthis point, I do what I can to keep everyone afloat and out of disaster, but Ialso know that no matter what I try, it’ll never be enough. I’ll never be my sisterand they hate me sorely because of that.” What was he to say beyond this point? That he, deeply within, agreed with everyone? That he wished, above anything, that he could go back in time and reverse the roles somehow or at least attempt to save the life of his own sister? No, he wasn’t going to dive into that today, if ever. It was best left at the back of his head, where it could boil and root itself on its lonesome -- away from prying eyes. “That’s all I’m going to tell you, don’t ask me further questions. Now, we have a pretty long damned day in front of us tomorrow so we should try and get some rest. At least I know I am.”

[samheughanfansite]

New Post has been published on Sam Heughan Fan

New Update has been published on https://sam-heughan.com/2020/05/01/press-photos-sam-for-gio-journal/

Press/Photos: Sam for Gio Journal

Over the last year, I had so many friends tell me about this great show Outlander that I needed to see. I finally started watching it and instantly became addicted. I can see why the show has such a cult following. It drew me into this ancient world and I became fascinated with the characters. I was so excited when I heard I was going to be photographing Sam. I was a huge fan of his work on the show. I had a feeling he was going to be an amazing guy, and I was 100% correct. Then, when the mag asked me if I also wanted to interview him, I was like hell yeah!

Q: I must say I’m crazy about Outlander. I love the storyline, the cast is brilliant and the production value is of the highest quality. When you were first presented with this project, did you know in your heart that this part was so well suited for you?

A: I was unaware of the book series but something in the writing really stuck a chord. Diana Gabaldon had captured a character in her dialogue that I felt I knew. I had just returned from the US for an extended pilot season and really struggled after getting close on a number of roles, but not landed a job. I was out of funds and confidence and starting to question if I could continue to pursue a career as an actor. Timing is everything and I feel very lucky it came along when it did. It’s changed my life.

Q: What are some of the things you like about your character Jamie Fraser? A: The character for me has changed. Each episode and season he grows and develops. I’ve been playing hi for 6 years now. He’s aged 20 plus years. He’s gone from young Highland warrior to husband, father, General, and now is almost a clan Chief. With age comes experience and each season Jamie has really been through the wringer. He’s a character that I live with every day.

Q: If there was one thing you could change about your character what would it be? A:Sometimes I wish he’d take a day off. Shooting is very intense, and he’s always involved in some way. Haha, maybe he could take a vacation once in a while. But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Q: The sex scenes are pretty intense. Early on was this uncomfortable? A: I’d been nude in some theatre productions before but wasn’t really looking forward to these scenes. They were challenging, but me and my costar have a good understanding. We try to use every intimate scene to show a little more of their relationship or how they relate to each other. Over time this has deepened and their love for each other just gets better and better.

Q: Knowing what you know about life in that time period, if you had the ability thru some time machine, to travel back to that period and experience life, if even for a short time, would you go? A: Maybe to take a quick look. But really wasn’t much fun at that time I’m sure!

Q: Are you surprised by the overwhelming acceptance, support and cult following of Outlander across the Globe? You not only provide a source of entertainment, but an escape from the trials of everyday, sometimes mundane life for viewers across the globe. Your work has such a positive impact on millions of people. I think that’s absolutely beautiful. How does it make you feel? A: Sometimes you forget how much people embrace the characters. At times some take it too far however as a performer, especially in these unsettled and dark times, it’s good that we can bring some levity and light to a situation. We do what we can. We are not saving lives but hopefully we can provide some escapism and make people smile occasionally.

Q: It is obvious you take great pride in your Scottish heritage. Was that pride a driving force behind the creation of your whiskey brand, “Sassenach?” A: Yes, I was approached by several whisky companies but always wanted to make something myself. It represents my love and passion for Scotland, my heritage. Also, I wanted to update the way whisky is sold and the approach to it. This whisky is a double gold medal winning spirit but should be accessible and to everyone’s taste. We can’t wait to release more!

Q: Do you plan on expanding the brand to include a variety of different spirits? A: You’re the first to know this but yes, we are working on a few ideas. All our projects celebrate Scotland and its connection or heritage, but we have some fun ideas brewing (or should I say distilling!?)

Q: Tell me what you love about your life? A: I have been given a lot of opportunity and freedom to explore projects that I love. Current movie projects (Bloodshot, An Unquiet Life etc.) plus producing my own projects (Clanlands etc). However, there also comes a great responsibility and at times a heavy expectation from fans. It’s a balancing act.

Q: How are you coping with the current pandemic? A: I’m doing the best I can, trying to stay safe whilst lending my voice and support to charities etc. Also want to entertain people and give them something else to think about. Bloodshot was released during the pandemic. I guess no one knew the level and extent of how this would affect us. Hopefully everyone can stay safe and positive at this time. It affects us all.

Q: What have you been doing to occupy your time at home? A: I’ve been working on the post-production of a TV show I produced/financed and directed last year. We hope to have it air this year and it’s been a lot of fun. Also, a book deal, so I’m writing A LOT!

Q: Has this time allowed you to focus on things that you have just been too busy to do? A: Yes, it gives us time to reflect. It can be stressful at times, trapped with your own thoughts, maybe I’m always too busy to sit with them. But there is still a lot going on and I like to remain busy.

Q: What lessons do you think this virus will teach us about humanity? A: Life will continue but will probably never be like it was. We have a lot of lessons to learn. The thing I find comfort in is seeing nature reclaim and heal. The greenhouse emissions reduction, wildlife taking back it land, it shown us there is another way to operate. Working from home is possible. I’d just like to thank everyone who is working to protect us, those who don’t have time to reflect and have to go fight this every day. I hope we can support them and appreciate the sacrifice they make for us. I feel very fortunate, every day. – Source

2020: Gio Journal

#SamHeughan #Outlander