#and after a long period of grieve and strive

[littlebigmouse]

Something about AU Vander telling AU Powder she's "too smart to spend her life in a bar" vs telling AU Ekko (as far as he knows, anyway) that he thinks he'd be "running this place soon" makes the latter almost seem like an insult.

[sim-ply-lilacs]

Not wanting to disturb the funeral guests with their happiness (and feeling rather guilty for the joy they felt in spite of their own deep sorrow), Bea and Josef elected to stroll through the garden a while before returning.

They chatted over the innumerable logistics necessary to sort through before they could be wed. People would talk horribly, of course, but the nature of the debts in desperate need of repayment obligated a wedding as soon as the banns could be read.

"But talk will die down eventually, my Bea. Those who love us will know the truth—that we would have waited long enough for the mourning period to end if we were able, and that it will always grieve us that your dear father could not join us, ja?" Josef promised with a comforting pat on the arm, "And then it will be the two of us on the farm, and we will be away from all of this."

Beatrice attempted a wan smile, but her features instead fell into an expression of discomfiture.

"You know I would *love* for it to be just the two of us, Josef," she began slowly, worry staining her tone like juice from a rotten cherry on a white pinafore, "but, you see, Mother has nowhere to go. She mortgaged the house to try and take care of Father while he was ill, and she has no living relations who would let her live with them—at least not in Brindleton—and it would positively kill Mother to leave the Bay. She has lived here all her life, you see. Mother's father's father opened the first general store on the island, and it is already breaking her heart to leave the home she first came to as a bride that I couldn't consider asking her to go any farther."

"And, well, after losing Father so recently I couldn't stand to be parted from her yet. So, you see, if I am to be wed, then Mother must come along wherever I go."

Josef nodded solemnly. His forehead crinkled in thought. As he opened his mouth to speak, Bea braced herself for his dismissal—for, what young man would take on both a wife who brought no more than a handful of books, a few trinkets, and a knitting basket into her marriage as well as her grieving, aged mother?

Beatrice had already begun steeling herself to hand back the dear little ring she already loved and inquire once again if the Landgraab manor had any openings for scullery maids when Josef seemed to settle something for himself with a sigh. "I think it will be at least until the next harvest before we can afford to add onto the house. Do you think your mother will mind the spare room for now? It is comfortable enough but very basic. As is the rest of the farm, if I think too long about it," he chuckled to himself with a not pitiful sense of self-deprecation.

Bea pulled back in shock. "You mean...you mean you are agreeable to having my mother live with us? Truly?"

Josef pulled her close. "But of course," he assured. "Your mother is always welcome wherever we are. Bea, I mean for the farm to be a home to you. You will have just as much say over the running of things as I do."

"I mean it when I say I love you. Your happiness means much to me, my Bea."

Oh, how she loved the way he said her name. It was not the buzzy "Beee" that most used as a nickname for her. His accent hummed a richer, softer "Bay-uh" as it called to her, like a long-forgotten ancient word of prayer. Bea leaned in as close as propriety allowed.

"The I will be very happy with you, indeed. I could never have a man who would treat Mother with unkindness, or myself for that matter. You are a very good man, Josef Moody," she whispered warmly.

"This, I think, does not make me very good, but only very decent. But for you, Bea, I will always strive for good."

Sometime later, after all the funeral guests had dispersed and Josef left with a promise to inform the priest at St. Bonaventure's of their intention to marry, Beatrice slipped up to the porch to find her mother. Madeleine's weariness and grief had blinded her to most things, lately. Her beloved husband had been her very life and his death had shattered her. The first days after his death had passed in a haze of tears, sleeplessness, and funeral preparations.

Her grief did not hide from her her only child's starry eyes. Nothing could have.

"My dear," Madeleine approached, hesitation lacing her voice, "are you quite alright?" Madeleine had heard tell of the brilliant hectic flush that seemed to singularly affect consumptive young women. If–if Beatrice had contracted the disease which had taken her father—

"Oh, Mama! I am more than alright. You see," Bea blushed deeper, and Madeleine was gratified to find the flush was only a natural, maidenly one, "you see I have seen Josef Moody. He has asked me to be his wife, and for the two of us to come and live with him...and I have accepted."

"Oh!" Madeleine cried, "Oh, my dear, how wonderful! And he will take me as well? Then he is an honorable man indeed."

Madeleine's cheer was interrupted by a horrifying thought. "You–you haven't done this because of me, have you? We can figure out something else, Trixie. You don't have to marry him if you don't want to."

"No, Mama," Bea shook her head, "It's not like that. Mama, I-I love him."

"Then I am happy for you, darling girl. I can only hope you will be as happy with your Josef as I was with your papa. Come here, let your mother congratulate you."

And as she accepted her mother's well wishes, Beatrice thought back on that afternoon and decided that if the beginning of the relationship was anything to go by, she would be happy indeed.

Prev ~ Next ~ Beginning

[cosmichighpriestess]

Dear Ones, We love you so very much.

Things are not as they seem. We are not talking about people fooling or trying to exploit you. We are talking about the massive stream of love flowing and growing despite all appearances. In the unseen realms, your human race is taking a gigantic leap in its evolution. Love is flowing as never before. You might say, energetically speaking, that the baby has been pushed out of the birth canal after a long period of contractions. Humanity and your mother earth have given birth to a new torrent of love by calling for it in your prayers and intense desires these past few years. You have collectively prayed as never before, and love is answering the call. It doesn't look like love in many ways right now, but things are not always as they seem.

You bear witness to the disruption on your planet. We see the evolution. You are grieving the physical transition of so many dear souls who have left the earth suddenly. We greet them as they expand back into an unbounded love. You feel pain in your body. We see streams of love flowing into you that sometimes push up against areas of tension or physical blockage. You feel antsy and anxious about change. We see you in the eternal dance between head and heart, striving to drop into your hearts and trust the journey.

You are having a human experience, seeing through human eyes, and evaluating through your human conditioning. This can be very painful at times. As you learn to see beyond the world of appearances into a world where invisible loves streams unceasingly, you learn to dance in harmony with this flow in a way that feels better, creates better, and allows better into your life.

Many of you feel far less tolerant of bad behaviors and situations you've endured up until now. Your soul is calling you to better – either an improved attitude and/or an improved situation. We never want you to suffer through something you don't enjoy. We would instead advise you to look for the good here and now and, as well, focus on your heart's true desires. For example, suppose you have put up with someone yelling at you for years, and it still bothers you. You can start to focus away from the destructive behaviors by looking at their good points or your own. Or you can completely ignore the bad behaviors as if they didn't exist.

You shift your vibration as you give less attention to what bothers you and more attention to what pleases you. You'll be more open to guidance and ideas for improvement in this new and improved vibration. You may receive the courage to walk away from something that doesn't work. You may be inspired to speak in a way that encourages a kinder response. You may receive an inspiration to ignore unkindness and see only good.

The inspirations will vary from one person and situation to the next. Nonetheless, when you find a vibration that is either neutral or more loving than the previous annoyance, you become open to receiving guidance. The actions you are inspired to take will be tailored to guide you on your path of least resistance and to lead you in the kindest way to what you desire. Your guidance will have nothing to do with changing the other and everything to do with empowering yourself.

Some of you are feeling new passions, new directions, new interests, or renewed interests. You feel your soul beckoning you forward with joy. Listen. Learn what you are interested in learning. Follow up on the ideas that feel good to you, even if they seem illogical. Spiritual logic involves doing what gives you true delight and expecting life to work as you continue to listen to your guidance dynamically.

Some of you are finally admitting to yourself that you need rest. In your silence and downtime, you will reconnect with your heart and soul and find those new directions emerging naturally as you stop trying to force yourself through life.

Be gentle with yourselves. As you move through this period of incredible expansion, sit, breathe, and receive our love. We never waver from love. We are aware of your circumstances and feelings but intentionally focus on the greater you, the greater life, and the life you wish to experience.

An example might be helpful. Imagine you have a young child screaming and angry because they want a cookie. You know that a cookie on an empty stomach will give them a sugar high and then a low, and based on prior experience, they'll become tired and cranky before dinner. You know that they want to feel good. They want nourishment for their body, love for their soul, and tastes to delight the senses. They want to feel energized and happy. That is their more profound truth, although right now, at this moment, they perceive all these wishes as a strong desire for the cookie.

If you give in to the screaming demands, you will teach them that they can manipulate life and others through lower-vibrational behaviors resulting from feeling powerless. This might work temporarily, but as you can imagine, such behaviors will not serve them as adults. You love them. You want more for them. You want them to know the universe wants to meet their needs and desires in a better way than the seeming superficial solution. You want them to feel empowered, loved, and satisfied.

So you pick them up and hug them. You acknowledge that they want a cookie. You tell them you understand, and you have something even better. You tell them about the wonderful meal that you know they will love. You talk about making their favorite dessert! You let them know in every way possible that while you love them and understand their need for the cookie, you have all they want and more coming to them very soon.

If they are willing, they will listen, anticipate the meal, and release you to cook it. If they insist on the very understandable childish demands that things go their way now - if they don't believe you love them and want them to have an even better experience – they will delay their glorious dinner and delicious dessert.

So too, your soul, your guardian angels, and the Divine hear your cries, but we also know the totality of all you desire. Sometimes we can give you the "cookie," and it will satisfy all you want in that arena of life. Sometimes we see so much better. In all cases, we witness and have compassion for your feelings. We know where you are now. We hold our focus steadily on the future in which you will have all you want and experience levels of love beyond what you'd ask for. We look for openings to guide you on the path of your least resistance. Like a wise parent, we will comfort, love, and soothe you as much as you allow. By our very design, however, we cannot respond to lower vibrational demands when you are asking for a higher vibrational outcome. We hold the frequency of the outcome and guide you toward that.

We don't dance in the density, dear ones. We invite you into your own light.

If you want to heal your body or emotions, we are here to help. Stop focusing on the pain or grief for just a few minutes each day. Sit, breathe, and receive our love while you dream of relief first and ultimately feeling wonderful.

If you want abundance, stop the ongoing worry and focus on lack. Handle what you must now, then intentionally shift your focus towards something better. Count your blessings, and remind yourself of prior "miracles." Let yourself sit in silence each day. Think about how abundance would feel and trust the ideas that will come quickly. "Isn't it wonderful I already have xy and z." Many tell us they can't stop worrying, but we lovingly disagree. You stop worrying every time you watch a good movie. You stop worrying every time you have a fun conversation with a friend. You stop worrying when you kiss your dog. You stop worrying when you focus on your grocery list. Whenever you focus elsewhere on something better, you stop worrying. You simply have to make that choice...often over and over again.

If you want more love, stop talking about how you were not loved, are not loved, and cannot find love. We understand you want human companionship and love. Of course. You are designed to connect and enjoy the radiant Divinity of one another shining upon you! You are designed to shine that light upon another. We want this for you if you want this for you.

You were not designed, however, to expect another to make up for what you perceive is lacking in yourself. Another person is not responsible for making you feel safe, beautiful, and good, alleviating your fears, or ridding you of loneliness or boredom. Dear ones, would you want someone else to ask this of you? If you wish to love, then focus on love – loving life, receiving the love of the grass under your feet and the warmth of the sunshine. Receive the love anywhere and everywhere that it is given freely. Give the love where you authentically can. In that stream, you cannot help but rendevous with more and more love! A person in love with life is loved by lovely others who are too.

We desire that you have all that you want for yourself and more. We will not waver from that frequency of love you wish to experience. We will not sway from our understanding of the love beneath all things. We serve you best by holding the highest vision for your life and guiding it to you as best we can and as much as you will allow.

Your world is in a considerable state of transition now. It looks chaotic, and from the human perspective, it is. But whether your world is rearranging, you're cleaning your closets, emptying your pockets, or dumping out the contents of your purse, it is a fact that chaos often precedes greater order.

Things are not as they seem. The world of energy is loving and impartial. It responds to your every loving vibration with as much as you will allow into your life. As you become more authentic with yourselves and life, you allow more love to flow. As you accept where you are, you allow more love to flow. As you dream of more loving realities, you allow love to flow. As you allow others to experience according to their choices, you allow love to flow. This can only elevate your experience of life, the experience of those who wish to benefit from it, and the experience of love upon your earth.

It really is quite simple. You are encouraged to seek soothing and good-feeling thoughts and activities, even if that means ignoring destructive behaviors, turning away from doomsayers, and flowing love to those who insist on being negative. Even if you must be in uncomfortable situations and around unpleasant people, you can focus on the flow of love to you and outward through you, silently observing the conditions and beahviors while flowing love.

As you do this, you begin to witness life through the eyes of your soul. You start to live in love and be open to love and release more love into your own life and world. Things are not as they seem. Only love is beneath things, in the core of all hearts, and in all situations. You allow or resist it, but it lives, breathes, and flows unceasingly whether you experience it or not. You can experience it whenever you look within, look to the unseen, or even look around you and notice the good.

Blessings to you. We love you so very much.

- The Angels

[lgteamoutreach]

Embracing Life After Divorce: A Guide to Thriving Post-Split

Divorce marks the end of one chapter but opens the door to new beginnings and opportunities for growth, self-discovery, and happiness. While navigating life after divorce can be challenging, it's also a chance to redefine yourself, reclaim your independence, and create a life that aligns with your values and aspirations. Whether you're recently divorced or adjusting to single life, here are some essential insights and strategies to help you thrive post-split:

1. Self-Reflection: Finding Clarity Amidst Change

After a divorce, it's natural to feel a range of emotions, from sadness and grief to relief and liberation. Take the time to reflect on your marriage, the reasons for its dissolution, and the lessons you've learned along the way. Consider what you want for your future, what brings you joy and fulfillment, and how you can create a life that reflects your authentic self. Self-reflection is the first step towards healing and creating a brighter future for yourself.

2. Rediscovering Your Identity: Embracing Self-Discovery

Divorce offers the opportunity to rediscover who you are outside of your role as a spouse. Embrace this chance to reconnect with yourself, your passions, and your interests. Explore new hobbies, pursue long-neglected dreams, and embrace the freedom to create a life that is uniquely yours. Remember, your identity is not defined by your marital status – you are a multifaceted individual with limitless potential.

3. Navigating Co-Parenting: Prioritizing Your Children's Well-Being

If you have children, co-parenting after divorce requires patience, communication, and cooperation. Put your children's needs first and strive to maintain a positive and respectful co-parenting relationship with your ex-spouse. Keep communication channels open, establish consistent routines, and focus on creating a stable and nurturing environment for your children. While co-parenting may have its challenges, it's essential to prioritize your children's well-being and foster a sense of security and stability post-divorce.

4. Reinventing Your Social Circle: Cultivating Supportive Relationships

Divorce can impact your social circle, leading to changes in friendships and social dynamics. Surround yourself with supportive friends and family members who uplift and encourage you during this transitional period. Seek out new social activities, join clubs or groups that align with your interests, and be open to making new connections. Cultivating a supportive social network can provide invaluable emotional support and companionship as you navigate life after divorce.

5. Financial Planning: Securing Your Future Independence

Divorce often brings significant financial changes, from dividing assets and debts to adjusting to a single-income household. Take stock of your financial situation, create a budget, and develop a plan for managing your finances post-divorce. Consider consulting with a financial advisor who can help you navigate the complexities of financial planning, retirement savings, and investment strategies. Taking control of your financial future will empower you to create a stable and secure life for yourself post-divorce.

6. Embracing Singlehood: Finding Freedom and Empowerment

Singlehood after divorce offers the opportunity to embrace newfound freedom and empowerment. Enjoy the independence of making decisions for yourself, pursuing your interests and passions, and charting your own course in life. Embrace solo adventures, indulge in self-care practices, and celebrate the joys of being single. Remember, being single is not a limitation – it's a chance to rediscover yourself and create a life that is fulfilling and meaningful on your own terms.

7. Healing Emotional Wounds: Prioritizing Self-Care and Well-Being

Healing from the emotional wounds of divorce takes time, self-compassion, and self-care. Allow yourself to grieve the loss of your marriage, seek support from friends, family, or a therapist, and engage in activities that nourish your soul and bring you joy. Practice forgiveness – both for yourself and your ex-spouse – and focus on moving forward with grace and resilience. Remember, healing is a journey, and it's okay to take as much time as you need to heal fully and rebuild your life after divorce.

8. Embracing New Beginnings: Seizing Opportunities for Growth

Above all, embrace life after divorce as an opportunity for growth, reinvention, and new beginnings. Approach each day with optimism and curiosity, and be open to the possibilities that lie ahead. Whether it's pursuing a new career, traveling to new destinations, or finding love again, embrace the adventure of life after divorce with courage and enthusiasm. Remember, your best days are still ahead of you, and with resilience and determination, you can create a life that is even more fulfilling and rewarding than before.

Please Visit my Website https://lauriegerber.com/

[redrockhospice]

How a Hospice Care Agency Does Its Job

Introduction:

The prospect of dying, or death itself, can be terrifying and unsettling for some people. Most people feel tremendous grief at the thought of parting with loved ones.

It's also a period when patients and their loved ones often avoid talking openly and honestly about what's going on. Everyone feels even more alone when the "elephant in the room" is there. When this happens, hospice agency care can be helpful since it can provide a service whose sole purpose is to alleviate the stresses and strains that will inevitably be imposed on the family or carer.

Which Groups Make Up a Hospice Organization?

In addition to providing comfort and managing symptoms associated with a patient's sickness, the collaborative hospice agency strives to deliver meaning and fulfillment during the final stage of life. The purpose is to make your loved one as comfortable as possible and assist the family in their sorrow.

• When you or a loved one decides hospice agency is necessary, a team of doctors and nurses supports you through the transition. Hospice care is patient-directed, developed in collaboration with the patient to meet their unique needs and preferences while considering input from close loved ones.

• The Registered Nurse Case Manager is the typical initial point of contact with a hospice care services. They'll collaborate with you to determine which of the agency other members best meets is your needs. This individual will also ensure you have an adequate supply of medications, do regular physical evaluations, contact your main care physician and hospice physician, and offer nursing care as needed.

• You and your loved ones have been allocated a Hospice Social Worker whose job is to ease your illness's emotional burden. Community resources such as private care agencies, government resources, and further counseling services may also be made known to you.

• The Hospice Physician or Medical Director manages your terminal illness and any associated problems, including relieving any physical symptoms you may be experiencing. When your regular doctor isn't available, the hospice doctor will care for you.

• A hospice aide is available for a wide range of duties. The aide's job is to help you carry out the tasks of everyday life, which may include personal care if you have special needs. Some people with dementia, for instance, need help eating. Hospice agency can provide companionship to those who are more self-reliant.

• The care provided by the Spiritual Counselor or Chaplain is founded on a profound appreciation for your religious convictions. They are there to help you and your loved ones deal with the weighty spiritual concerns that come in the face of a terminal disease. Among the many things a pastor can do for you, funeral and memorial service planning assistance, crisis intervention, and monthly check-ins are common components of pastoral care.

• The hospice agency relies heavily on its dedicated volunteers. They have received extensive training and have been handpicked to join our professional workforce. Volunteers can be there for you and your loved ones when you need time to relax.

Conclusion:

Hospice agency sticks around for a long time after death to comfort and guide grieving loved ones. This is just one more sign that they are willing to help in the end stages of life. The hospice organization comes together as a "community within a community" to provide expert care and comfort to a grieving family.

[mangacat201]

Writing asks: 10,11

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

Ohhh, that's technically three questions, innit? But I'll answer all, you're very welcome. The meaning is different on whether it's other people's writing or my own.

In the sense that reading a piece affected me so much that it created a sense memory that didn't let me go for a long time, there's a couple. I had to read "The Willows" by Algernon Blackwood for a literature seminar and maybe it's a combination of reading it on my own lateish at night with no preparedness at all on what the story was going to be about, but it turned out to be the single most frightening piece of writing I've ever read. It just gave me The Horrors(tm), like the kind of existential dread that grips you bodily. I've since gone back and reread it (in broad daylight tyvm) and it's lost a bit of it's immediate impact in favor of me being able to analyse what made it so to me, but it really stuck with me for quite some time after reading.

The second one is 'The Cat' by Neil Gaiman. It's in one of his short story collections, I forget which one, but it definitely affected me deeply in the way it just grasps the meaning of theme so profoundly and still think of it and the way it made me feel many many years later.

As for my own stories, that's the other kind of 'haunting' namely the ones that got away (or more accurately that I can't bring myself to chase). I plot stories by sitting with them in my head and usually I have a beginning and an end and maybe a few pivotal scenes figured out by the time I start writing, but the longer a story is, the more I struggle to keep my focus on it. I've had a couple of storys that have remained unfinished for years and years (one I actually managed after five years omg) and I often come back to them in my head, trying to figure out how I can get them to work and get back to writing them and finishing them, because I do enjoy the process a lot, but I struggle with anything that doesn't have a fast and definitive conclusion. But yeah, those stories haunt me, because I think they deserve to be finished, but also I can't bring myself to do it.

And lastly, sometimes I will go back and read something I've written and marvel at the fact that it could have come from my brain, no clue how that happened. LOL.

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

The answer to this one is yes and no.

I'm of the staunch opinion that in the writing or editing process, you need to periodically sit back and ask yourself 'are there any darlings here to kill'? It's more like to make yourself reflect on what you're doing, whether you're adding to the characters, the plot or the narrative theme you're trying to chisel out or whether you're just adding shit for the hell of knowing it's there (yes, I am looking at you G.R.R.Martin). I feel like it's a good exercise to keep your focus. BUT I am also of the opinion, that darlings aren't there to be killed. If you have a good reason not to kill one, don't kill it.

Also, darlings for me are less characters that actually get stuffed into the writing oubliette and more like, scenes, tropes, beloved expressions and writing flowers. And if I feel like I need to excise any of those to make the piece better, I'll grieve of course, but I'll also know that the reader will appreciate it in the end.

I used to eschew editing, striving to pour the scene out perfectly once I actually got to writing it and never looking at it again. Which of course led to me not doing a lot of writing over all, cause you can only hold so much in your head until you forget what you wanted to write. Now I enjoy it and I feel like the 'kill your darlings' question is a good exercise to help you center yourself on what you want from a piece, but it's not the be all and end all and it doesn't work for everyone.

[saintobio]

romeo ♱ juliet. (prequel to as you like it)

↳ fushiguro megumi/reader

whereupon an age-long rivalry between two of the most powerful imperial families shall pay the price through the souls of a young couple whose tragic love vow’d for the reconciliation of their empires

genre. tragedy, forbidden love, period piece, royal au

tags/warnings. ooc, monarch, prince!megumi, princess!reader, megumi is a zen’in, reader is a gojou, clan wars, suggestive, violence, blood, rebellion, usage of (shakespearean) early modern english, feral!megumi in the end, suicide, major character death

notes. romeo & juliet trope but make it royal au. this is my first historical au piece and i’m sorry for any inaccuracies especially with the archaic grammar. some lines are directly derived from shakespeare’s play. it’s a bit hard to read but i tried to incorporate the original r+j language. reblogs appreciated <3

masterlist + playlist + grammar index

EARLY MODERN ENGLISH -> MODERN ENGLISH VERSION

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐄

MEGUMI, Prince of Astheryn, son to Zen’in

YOU, Princess of Caelum, daughter to Gojou

SATORU, Crown Prince of Caelum, brother to You

EMPEROR and EMPRESS, heads of the Caelum Empire

TOJI, head of the Astheryn Empire, later Emperor

LORD YUUTA, a knight commander, cousin to Satoru and You

NAOYA, a duke, cousin to Toji 

MAKI AND MAI, of the same order.

GIUSEPPE, servant to Zen’in

GENEVA, nurse to You

KAMO, head of the Exalos Empire

NORITOSHI, heir to Exalos

Citizens of Caelum and Astheryn; kinsfolk of both empires; Knights, Attendants, Watchmen, and Mailmen

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

"Pray, wouldst thou share with me thy grievances against the Crown Prince of Astheryn?"

A snort of disgust filled your ears as your brother in his greatness strode across your balcony in measured footsteps. “Ere long, the one who is to ascend to the throne as the Emperor,” he corrected, tidying up his white tunic before he rested his lower back against the balustrade. Long slender fingers ran up to fix his ivory hair with a peek of his cerulean eyes that shone like diamonds under the sunlight. “Hast thou not received tidings? His Majesty, the Emperor of Astheryn, hath perished.”

It was the first time you’ve heard of the unfortunate news and it brought you much sadness with the thought of the grieving family that the emperor of Astheryn has left behind. Howbeit, with the lack of sympathy on your brother’s countenance, you were reminded of your place as the princess of Caelum.

To lament you must not, for you were a Gojou. The death of a Zen’in should not be of your concern as they were your families’ sworn enemies after all. Granted an empire among the three that divided the nation—Astheryn, Caelum, and Exalos. The Gojou’s ruled Caelum while the Zen’in’s reigned supreme in Astheryn. Both nations were of equal prosperity, but a clash in significant power was what birthed half a century of bad blood between two families. An ancient grudge that came forth from two ancestral foes, now doth with the descent of the new generation whose enmities remained fifty years unresolved.

The Crown Prince in this empire you call home was your older brother, Satoru, with whom a five-year gap made him much more respectable in the palace in comparison to you. He embodied the stigma of a dominant ruler with great hopes to unite all three kingdoms as one—an ideology befitting for an heir to the most powerful throne.

Natheless, he was also a fellow filled with hubris. All knowing, all bearing. A warrior and a trained potentate, a gentleman of preserved anachronistic values. Satoru possessed a god complex similar to that of your father’s and he was not one to hold back in showing an outward loath for the imperial Zen’in family. He thought of Prince Toji as nothing but a bitter foe simply because the blue-blooded man was his biggest rival.

“I shall construe thy silence as bereft,” his tone hinted of derision. There was humor in the flutter of his arctic lashes. “Not as thee, am I moved by the departure of an aged soul. Verily, the empire of Astheryn mourns, but it is the stature of that despot, Toji, that irks my soul.”

Now that the man was to be crowned as the emperor, it only enkindled rage within Satoru’s deep-seated ego. The Crown Prince Toji was no longer, for he was to become the Emperor of Astheryn. The passing down of the crown was what Satoru wanted for himself in Caelum, not for his enemy to receive the prestige before he did.

A silent sigh crawled out of your lips. In all honesty, you wished not to share the same rancor towards the Zen’in imperial family. “Brother, my question yet hungers for your reply. There must be a justifiable reason for—”

“What reply awaits from my dear sister? By his name alone is he deemed an adversary; naught more need be spoken.” Standing up straight to regain his pomposity, he added, “Upon the union of all three empires, a potent emperor shall I become. Yet ere this, our parents, the emperor and empress, must relinquish their thrones.”

That cruel smile plastered on his face, you recognized it so well. What a fool he is. “In that case, art thou anticipating the demise of our parents?”

Was Satoru willing to imbrue his hands with his own parents’ blood for the sake of attaining the highest throne? Was thy lovable prince a tyrant beneath his seraphic exterior?

“Now, those words did not emanate from mine own mouth,” he played it off with a sneer, “Thou must be aware, my sister, that these walls have ears keen. I utter no ill against His and Her Majesty.”

You were aware indeed, but never were you in favor of his covert schemes. Should he turn out to be a traitor to your own kin, you would simply retreat back to your seat. A single word would not be spoken. Participating in this war between families, much less your own, was a disgrace you shalt forswear.

Sincerely, you didn’t ask to be born of royal lineage. You didn’t ask to partake in these imperial quarrels. You didn’t ask to be a Gojou.

Because Megumi, your first love, was a Zen’in.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

“Giddy up!”

Prince Megumi had a tight grip on the reins as he steered his horse on the path leading back to the palace. In the long hours of the morning, the prince was feeling down in the dumps. Not once did a bright expression paint his face in three consecutive nights. Could it be due to the death of his grandfather, the emperor? Or was it a specific princess in a neighboring empire that beget his melancholy?

His royal advisor, Lord Giuseppe, had already guessed that the latter was the answer. Megumi was an open book despite the stolid mien that incessantly veiled his handsome face. “A peek into thine own heart, I must. Is it a woman that Your Imperial Highness yearns to see?”

“Giuseppe,” the prince suppressed an exhale, “thou hast the knowledge of who caters to my fancy.”

The bumpy path added a few extra jumps from their horses that Megumi had to maneuver his horse out of the dim woods, treading a nigh away from the stable. His eyes found the highest balcony of Astheryn’s imperial palace, with which a panoramic view overlooked the palace of Caelum environed by lush green hills.

Whoever decided to put these two palaces near their borders without thinking that they could be of surveillance to each other’s walls from a distance?

But what great comfort will it bring to see my love? Prince Megumi mused. A love that sparked since his sweet sixteen, a love that still lingered even now that he was in his nineteenth.

“Ah, it is Princess Y/N of Caelum indeed,” Giuseppe spoke, formal and yet playful. “‘Tis what I dub young love.”

It has been two months since the graduation. As part of the imperial arrangement, the children of each empire were to study in The Providence—a premier private academy solely for the monarchs and the elites. The academy was where he first met you, a classmate of his with whom he ought to see as an enemy, but instead has housed herself in the breadths of his heart. He has fallen in love long before he could stop himself.

How couldn’t he? You were the loveliest flower among the bunch. An angel in your own grace with a face that could launch a thousand ships just like Helen of Troy. Be that as it may, perhaps you could raise a thousand swords for he would go to war for you. Your smile brought him felicity and he considered himself the luckiest man for being granted of your heart all the more.

With sixty days that passed since he last saw you on graduation day, your lack of presence now had him deep in forlorn. Were you to continue a degree in university? Or nought but to remain in your chambers in the palace?

“If my heart confides in thee, Giuseppe, pray, enlighten me. What are the chances of mine eyes beholding her once more?” he inquired, pulling the reins to halt the horse’s movements. “Couldst thou aid in arranging a covert rendezvous betwixt her and me?”

“I am afraid not, Your Highness.” Giuseppe hoisted himself out of the horse’s back and guided Megumi inside the stable. “‘Tis a challenging request thou maketh. His Majesty’s exequy are set for eventide and thy father’s coronation is due in a fortnight. Thy presence is heavily expected.”

Heavens. “Family matters,” he released a huff of exasperation.

Lord Giuseppe has been a royal advisor since Megumi was a juvenile. Now, in the prince’s nineteen years of age, the lord treated him as though he was his own child. Seeing him so morose, he decided to give in, “Fair enough, beseech me on the morrow at sunrise to be thy herald. I shall reach out with my kin in Caelum and personally inquire the princess’ servant.”

The smile of triumph finally adorned Prince Megumi’s face before he raised himself out of the horse to embrace the kind man. “I thank thee. I yearn to lay mine eyes upon my lady.”

And so that evenfall on the burial rites for the late emperor, Megumi was participative for the family’s gathering. The outward display of woes, the shed of tears, and the deliverance of eulogies all roused distaste in him—only for the fact that some of his family members were discreetly joyful for his grandfather’s death. Everyone in the Zen’in clan was hungry for power for all its merit.

He would leave his cousins Duchess Maki and Mai on the conversation as such women hadst not shown any interest on the throne. It was his uncle, Duke Naoya, that appeared to have a particular eye for the crown that was now all Prince Toji’s to claim. Only, Duke Naoya didn’t have the guts to ever be in a conflict with Megumi’s father.

“How splendid!” Duchess Mai hid a smirk behind her black veil that complemented her dark, lacy gown. “Thou wilt become the Crown Prince.”

Megumi peeked at his father who stood outside of the Zen’in family’s catacomb to bid his final farewell to the emperor. In two weeks time, his father would be the most powerful man in Astheryn and Megumi would be the rightful and direct lineal heir to his throne.

“Cease with your insolence, Mai.” Duchess Maki, the twin that he preferred, had spoken beside him. “Megumi shall be our beacon of hope. The fool Toji, with his conflict against Satoru, doth pose a peril to this realm. Both are tyrants, in truth.”

Maki’s bold choice of words and lack of courtesy for the imperial family never failed to make Megumi smile.

But a smile that he deeply yearned for was a smile that came from you, his only love.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine, it is now four o’clock!

As the clock struck four, you were high in enthusiasm when the doors to your bedroom swung open and your personal attendant stepped in to deliver a news that you’ve been anticipating since daybreak.

“What says of my love, Lady Geneva?” you jumped out of your bed to embosom the woman with wide eager eyes. “Is he to come see me? Is he? Speak of only great news for a bad one wilt mine ears refuse!” You release a wistful sigh, envisioning the handsome prince. “Unbeknownst to him, I am a fervent woman prepared to bestow upon him all that I possess. My heart, my soul, my body—”

“Good gracious, Your Highness! An eager woman is not equal to an easy woman, particularly of the loftiest nobility as thyself,” the lady reminded, fixing your silk nightgown before patting your heated cheeks. “Yet, aye, only in privy affirmation. The Crown Prince of Astheryn would like to arrange a tryst with thee come Monday.”

How could you have forgotten? Megumi was now the Crown Prince since Emperor Toji has claimed sovereignty over their empire. No wonder Satoru hadst nought but chagrin in his face to supper last eve.

But forget those fifty years worth of imperial vendettas! The stars in your eyes still held glee over this planned rendezvous. A sweet kiss was what you awaited from your lover of three years. “Much obliged. I am indebted to thee, Lady Geneva!” You embraced her with gratitude while she mirrored your delight. “Thou hast served me commendably.”

“Whence art thou Princess? Y/N? Y/N!”

“Oh, here comes Her Majesty,” your lady-in-waiting rushed to fix the sheets of your bed. “We shan’t speak of our secret tidings with a lord and his prince from Astheryn.”

“Y/N!”

Startled by your mother’s voice, you straightened your back and called out, “I am here, Your Imperial Majesty!”

Your mother entered your bedchambers in her austerity, hair arranged into a chignon and a dress bedight with crimson prints. Her gaze towards the ladies-in-waiting that followed her was unmistakably dour. “Leave us alone to talk, kindly. All of thee.”

With a single command, all servants curtsied with utmost respect before scurrying out of your room to give you privacy. This woman was your own mother and yet her presence was suffocating. You felt small under her rigid stare. One step closer and she began tucking your hair behind your ear. “His Majesty and I have set forth an accord this morn with the Kamos.”

Your breath steadied in dismay. “And what proposal shall that be, Your Majesty?”

“Thou, my dear,” the empress began, icy hands caressing your arms, “How does marriage sound to thee?”

Marriage? Oh, now what is this she speaks? Your heartbeat quickened exponentially. Is it between you and a gentleman from Exalos? Oh, God…

“I… I think not of marriage, mother.”

With your answer, she raised her chin and narrowed her stare. Was Satoru around to save you from your mother’s intimidating presence? He was the only one whose voice they partially listened to.

“Then thou must ponder,” she spoke again, this time more forcefully, “Prince Noritoshi, he is an heir to the throne in Exalos. Sagacious, valiant, and chivalrous—what more canst thou seek in a man? He was an upperclassman of thine at The Providence, were he not?”

An arranged marriage without my consent!

Your chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, heart filling of rage and defiance. “Thou wish to use me to unite the two empires, is it not? ‘Tis naught but a political marriage!”

“Wherefore, what other use can my precious daughter be?”

“Mother,” you strictly replied without addressing the woman of her rightful status. With the rate of your oozing temper, your nails were digging on the flesh of your palms to leave deep crescent marks. “I refuse to be wed to a man I love none!”

The empress’ face hardened into stone. Her eyes ignited fire of the worst kind and with gritted teeth, she asked, “And whom dost thou pursue for love? Reveal thy choice unto me, child.”

Your heart ached and your tears brimmed on the corner of your eyes. If only love had no boundaries, such lamentation would not have embraced your heart. “That whom I love is Prince Megumi—!”

Slap! A rough, unforgiving hand met your cheek with a painful blow. “Fool!” yelled her. “Thou ungrateful child! How dare thou speak of an enemy’s name!”

“What matters a name if it be not linked to love, Your Majesty?” Your own hand flew to your cheek, soothing the sting that your mother has given you. Such cheeks became incarnadine and were now damp with tears. “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet. So the Zen’in Prince would, were he not a Zen’in call’d, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title.”

“Thou dare shame us for thy childish infatuation?” She didn’t hesitate to add another hard smack, this time with you falling on your bed. “Speak the name of our enemies once more and thou shalt find thyself lock’d inside the palace dungeons. Understand?”

No! “But m-mother—”

“Silence! I am an empress foremost, before I am a mother,” her words were a spit to your face. Words that left you sobbing in despair. “Thou will be Prince Noritoshi’s betrothed and his affection will be sought by thee. Understood?”

No, you do not.

“I said, dost thou understand, Princess Y/N?”

In silent acquiescence, you offered a curtsy to the empress.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕

The rhythmic melodies of the orchestra did not affect your silent woes. All this grandeur and aristocracy only left a bitter aftertaste in the walls of your mouth as you peered at the emperor and the empress who gracefully danced amongst their peers and peeresses to celebrate your father’s special day.

Prince Satoru was a domineering gentleman who stood high and mighty next to you. You were not one to miss the glances that you and your brother received from the flock of noblemen and women. How regal, they mused, of siblings dressed in similar fabric of the finest kind.

As customary, Satoru’s attire was a champagne frock coat embellished with golden aiguillette and royal badges. He also donned a navy blue cloak that rested atop his broad shoulders and ended beneath his leather heels.

Yours was an off-shoulder gown of champagne silk embroidered with gold threads, accentuated with a tight corset that hugged your waists down to your hips before it flared into frills forming a beautiful A-line. What suited your elegance was your hair that was braided into a half-updo and locked with a glittering tiara.

“How many winters hath thy father witnessed?” your question of your father’s age was barely audible as you looked at your brother. The blend of dulcet melodies from the violins and pianoforte forming the perfect classical music in the background.

The corner of his lips upturned. “Quite daring with thy lack of proper title for the emperor. His Imperial Majesty is sixty-eight.”

His courtesy to the emperor and the empress was no better than an act of blarney. Your eyes could well see through his tainted soul. The malicious intent that he was scheming in his head was not difficult for you to discern.

“My query persists: dost thou await his demise?” you asked with the underlying intention to make him admit to his planned treason. “Likewise for Her Majesty.”

Satoru’s crystal orbs landed on the faces covered in colorful bauta and colombina masks that crowded this masquerade ball. While half of their faces may be sealed, their ears were free. The prince himself knew not to speak a word.

“Mutiny lies within thy tone, sister,” he whispered, keeping his chin up high. “If thine intention is to inveigle me into rebelling merely to thwart thy arranged marriage, I will not back thee.”

“Neither shall I marry him!” you replied in a hushed voice, lowering it down before anyone could hear. “Prince Noritoshi of Exalos is a courteous man, but my heart rests with someone else.”

The white-haired man looked around the ballroom before turning to you. “Thou art branded with a traitor's heart, Y/N. Exalos stands as our ally, while Astheryn doth not. The Zen'in kin remain our direst adversaries. Thou art not in a position to disrupt the schemes that we—”

“Is it truly we that thou speak or merely thee?” How could your brother, one that used to love you dearly that he would protect you over his parents’ ill interests, had now turned into an ambitious despot? “Thou aspires to conquer all three empires, seeking the imperial throne for thyself, plotting to topple the reigning monarchs by imbruing thy hands with the blood of thine own kin. Thou art the true traitor, Satoru Gojou.”

Satoru’s saintly face transformed into a statue, a sight caught off guard but a stance not giving away. The pivot of his heel was an act of admission withal. “Speak as thou wilt. Princess Y/N, thou art of the least concern to me heretofore.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕

Running through the hallways of the palace was what you did after your quarrel with your brother. That, and your decision to withhold from further staying in the ballroom led you to reason with the emperor and the empress that you were too unwell to stay through their night of waltzes and classical music.

Somehow, in the middle of your strides within the carpeted floors, a stranger seized hold of your hand and pulled you towards the orchard.

“Pray, pardon me!” you resisted, withdrawing your arm from the masked man. His mask embellished with metallic green linings was a volto that covered his entire face in anonymity. “Release me at this very instant or these knights—”

He turned on his heel by the time you reached the empty orchard, removing his mask to reveal the face that procured your very love. And, with a smile, he greeted, “My love.”

Your heart took a pause. “M-Megumi?” you whispered, looking around in panic. “How, now! How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?”

A hand was placed on your cheek as he pressed his sweet lips above yours, moving in perfect synchronization followed by satisfied hums and eager touches. You had not realized how tightly your arms were wrapped around his neck when he pulled away, verdant eyes gazing at you from under the moonlight.

“Unease lengthened my days. I had come to see thee after I was apprised of the news,” he admitted, lifting your chin with his index finger. “Was it thy decision to marry Prince Noritoshi?”

Your response was a desperate shake of the head. “Nay, assuredly not!” you gave him a kiss, “Certainly not. I vow to the heavens, thou art my only one.”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips, but worry lingered on his angel face. “What doth this leave us with if it is thy parents’ will?” he asked, encasing your waist around his arm. The vibration of his chest could be felt against yours. “Shall I dispatch thee to wed him? Must I endure the agony of witnessing my lady, a wife not meant for me?”

Your finger traced the collar of his suit. “That is the last thing I wish to—”

“Make haste and search for the Princess!”

The nearby voices of your ladies-in-waiting made you stumble on your heels as you pulled Megumi, only to end up plunging into the swimming pool upon losing your balance at the slightest second.

“Aah—!”

“I believe she doth reside in her chamber, Lady Catrine.”

“Her Royal Highness did say she is unwell and wishes to be left alone.”

With a finger pressed on your lips, you gestured for Megumi to keep his silence in the midst of your submerged situation. “Shh. When our imperial knights find thee, they will murder thee.”

Contrary to the graveness in your voice, your lover was amused. “Thou standest before a Crown Prince. War shall ensue should they dare lay a finger on me. Therefore, thy kinsmen are no stop to me.”

A Crown Prince. A grin was plastered on your face as you grabbed his wrist and swam towards the small artificial cave to hide from the palace guards. Surely, said guards had all eyes on the emperor and the empress for tonight’s celebration, but you would not take any risks of being caught. They could be wandering around for all you knew.

“Is it now that my beloved is an heir to the throne, perchance?” You beamed at him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pressed you against the wall. Your dress flowed from underwater, but you paid no mind. Nothing hindered you from enveloping each other’s mouth with a tight-lipped kiss. “Mm—but still, thou art in Caelum’s w—” he swallowed the entirety of your lips, before trailing kisses down your bare neck, “—walls, my love. An act of trespass known to all, particularly as thou art a Zen'in. Thou shalt be met with due punishment.”

“Then I shall accept the punishment,” he answered without faltering. And by pressing his forehead against yours, he added, “Lest it be my final hours upon this Earth, not a shred of remorse shall accompany me in beholding the woman I cherish.”

So eager, so desirous were you and him in locking each other’s lips now with the use of tongue exchanging pleasures inside the walls of your mouth. His hand held a tight grip on your cheek, tilting his head to the side in an attempt to have the kiss at its deepest entry. You had to catch the breath that you had lost when you looked at him. “Megumi,” you cupped his cheeks, lips swollen, “make me a wife. I refuse to douse ourselves into matters of imperial rivalries any further.”

“Is that a proposal to elope?” he mouthed the words in deep thought, “Wouldst thou flee with me to wed? To relinquish our crowns in exchange for our love?”

Certain you were not if Megumi would be willing to forsake his throne, whereas you would take any chances just to escape the forthcoming tyranny of this empire. Caelum was no longer home.

“Deny thy father and refuse thy name,” said you, placing your head on his chest, listening to the romantic melody of his beating heart, “Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Gojou.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈

That same eve was spent with fiery touches and shameless admissions of love. In your bedchamber where you lay the scene, of him unlacing your corset, of you unbuttoning his tunic—all nought but bare in your virginity. From your balcony, the moon enviously stared at the two lovers under the sheets doing thus what lovers do.

Long forgotten was the emperor’s birthday for the princess engaged in a night of passion with her greatest enemy. Neither your dulcet moans nor the prince’s deep breaths would escape the palace walls for everyone believed that you were alone in your chambers.

Alone, you stifled a giggle at the thought as Megumi kissed the smooth skin where your neck met your shoulder. His hand had interlaced itself around yours, pinning you above your own mattress to strip you off your chastity. With every jostle, he was reaching your most sensitive places.

“M-Megumi…” You withheld yourself from releasing a whimper as his manly hand gently touched your bosom.

While he, in a chase to reach his own high, knelt on his knees to finish the deed. “Just a little… more.” A kiss to silent your cries. “I love thee.”

“I love thee.”

That morning, you woke up entangled around the prince with only your soft sheets covering your unclothed selves. The fluttering of his lids were not due to the ray of sunlight, but of the feathered kisses that you placed along his jaw.

“Care to entertain my curiosity?” You propped an elbow to look at his face, fingers caressing his bare chest. “How didst my prince infiltrate the palace of Caleum?”

He enclosed your waist around his arm. “With the kind assistance of thy cousin,” he spoke in a raspy morning voice, “Knight Commander Yuuta. He is to render one final assistance to me ere I return to the borders of our empire.”

Ah, you now recalled. Yuuta Okkotsu, instead of being granted a dukedom, had chosen to receive the honorary title of being the commander of the Imperial Order of Knights. He was yours and Megumi’s upperclassman in The Providence—naturally born a cavalier, a savior, and a protector. However, just like you, he had fallen in love with an enemy and Maki Zen’in was her name. There was no question as to why he would willingly help an enemy as that of a crown prince because he was in the same plight. Love was simply love.

His loyalty was where his heart lies. Once caught aiding the monarch of Astheryn into the palace of Caleum, he would be deemed an accomplice and would subsequently be exiled through the orders of your own father.

Did Megumi understand the lengths and the risks that your cousin just took? A reward of sincerest gratitude was what Yuuta deserved, especially not forgetting the fact that he acted heaps better an older brother than Satoru was as of late. Yuuta considered you a sister and all he ever wanted for you was to choose your happiness. If there was anything you could learn from him, it was how an imperial title would never guarantee you the felicity that you wanted.

And thus, by his name that you speak of, Yuuta’s distant calls from beneath your balcony was a signal for Megumi’s retreat. On the other side of the door was a hubbub from the ladies-in-waiting which could only mean that a presence of a royal would soon enter your boudoir.

“I shall take my leave,” your lover announced, arising from your bed to hastily put on his clothes. At your own effort, you sheathed your naked body with a robe. “Our tryst shall push through. Sir Yuuta vowed to escort thee. By the hour of nine at Saint Peter’s, we will marry then.”

You had given your oath long before your marriage was decided, but this did not prevent a triumphant smile from adorning your face. “Expect thy future wife to arrive,” you promised, hearing footsteps nearing your door. “Not enough time. Shall thou leave without the satisfaction of a good morrow’s kiss?”

His hand found the small of your back before encasing his lips in a perfect lock around yours, “I shall await thy presence there,” and another kiss to seal his love.

In lightning speed, Megumi was jumping out of your balcony in hurried guidance of Yuuta and you ensured to give the former a flying kiss before bidding farewell. “Adieu!”

As your lover departed, His Majesty arrived in a stance so ruthless befitting for the great ruler that he was, even more stern and forbidding than the empress. Behind his tail was Crown Prince Satoru who was quick to notice the mess on your mattress. His crystal blue eyes scrutinized you from head-to-toe with the conclusion that his sister shamelessly brought in a man.

A man not of common birth, but of imperial blood.

He would be a hypocrite so to speak. He slept with many noblewomen, even as far as bringing courtesans to his bedroom every fortnight. The only difference between you two was that your lover was the son of his greatest foe.

“Your Majesty,” you humbly greeted, curtsying before your father.

He eyed you with an unrelenting gaze. “Attire thyself. Thy presence is required by high noon.”

You traded glances with Satoru whose eyes were full of judgment before you asked, “Whence doth His Majesty intend to summon me?”

“To make an acquaintance with thy betrothed.” Your heart fell heavily to the floor as your father added, “Thy marriage with Prince Noritoshi of Exalos is to commence on Monday.”

“N-No.” Horror painted your now pallid face. You were hysterical, then in much denial. “No! I refuse to—”

“Interfere with my plans or thou shall be dealt with!” The emperor roared in vexation with little care for your emotions.

More domineering when he swung his cloak, much swiftly when turned on his heel. He left you in your chambers begging on your knees, pleading in desperation for him to abort the marriage while your brother unsparingly looked down at you with no ounce of sympathy.

Satoru. You wanted the old Satoru back—the Satoru that would quickly take you in his arms and place comfort in his gentle hands, the Satoru that would protect his sister even if it meant harming other people on her behalf. This was not the same brother.

Alas, he informed you of the most devastating news of all. “The Crown Prince of Astheryn shall be executed for entering the borders of Caelum without notice. Their emperor hath been duly informed.”

A gasp escaped your lips just as fright painted your face. “No… This, this cannot be—!”

“That is not the most important part. His father is far unconcerned,” Satoru cut you off, hands buried deep in his pockets. “There is something thou should be made aware of concerning the lad whom thy heart holds dear.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈

Between the two empires, it was known that Astheryn was more barbaric. If Caelum was ruled by Greeks, consider Astheryn as ruled by Romans. More vicious, more hostile—God forbid even their own kinsmen were not excused to the emperor’s brutality. In his belief, and in all monarchs precedent to his current throne, any member of the imperial family must hold a high regard for their name.

A Zen’in was equal to that of a supreme being. Neither Emperor Toji himself nor any of his kinsmen must associate themselves with an enemy if they wish not to be deemed a traitor. The Gojou family shall not be spoken of in all lands there were of Astheryn.

Now, why has a son of his, a Crown Prince even, has willingly involved himself in this predicament of being mandated with a death penalty?

As per The Amendment when Prince Megumi was escorted through the border between Caelum and Astheryn, the dictum was to either administer his immediate execution or the prince would be released but the two empires would hereafter declare war. Neither was an option, but Emperor Toji had to spare his son’s life regardless of his reluctance to put his empire and military power at stake.

“All for a whore?” His Majesty growled from under his breath. “Thou art causing us war in exchange for a whore?!”

The back of the emperor’s hand was forcefully thrown at the prince’s face as the man in question stood before him. Toji was enraged, but more so was he ashamed of his son’s actions.

The same son balled his hands into tight fists, then. The hardening of his jaw and the fury in his eyes were to show his dissension. “A whore thou call’d her then a whore thou must call thy concubines. My only love sprung from one woman. Thou canst not say the same with mine deceased mother! Neglected and abused to the extent where hanging herself was a preferable option.”

There was not the faintest trace of deference in his tone because his pique dominated him much to his father’s ire. A clash between two of Astheryn’s most powerful rulers was impending.

“Is that thy strongest defense?” Toji emitted a deep chuckle of distaste. “The matter at hand pertains to thy foolish childish love! Countless women tread Astheryn's streets, yet my foolish son still selects the youngest daughter of a Gojou?”

“A Gojou, whose name carried she, is no longer my enemy but a wife to be,” said he, “nor did I ask to partake in this fifty-years of imperial strife. I am choosing her over my crown.”

“Bastard!”

The Emperor drew out his sword in vexation, but what surprised everyone in that room was how Megumi himself also pulled out his brand in act of defense as the father and son threatened each other’s throats.

A dozen swords from the knights were then pointed at the prince’s head in protection of the emperor. The suspense was high as the supreme ruler and his son kept their rigid stance, not moving their swords an inch away from their necks all while the knights remained with weapons at hand.

It was after a minute within the stares of death shared with his father until the emperor himself lowered his silver brand and commanded, “Lay down thy swords and depart. I require a private audience with my son.”

His Majesty’s sword was long sheathed back to its original place, now standing in less tension. Megumi knew where this was heading to and saw how the palace guards were confused for the whole sixty round of the minute hand that went through the clock. Thus, by the emperor’s word, they retreated out of the room and left the father and son alone.

Alone, out of earshot to rest from the performance they have delivered in front of the servants and the order of knights to create a story based on hearsay. ‘Our great Emperor Toji and Prince Megumi quarreled over that woman from Caelum’, was an expected rumor that would soon spread throughout Astheryn. This would allow the citizens to grow wroth towards the other empire for causing their own rulers to be engaged in a bloody fight. They would hate you and your family enough to participate in a war to overthrow Caelum.

The emperor soon erupted into a laugh, such boisterous laughter plagued Megumi’s ears while he returned to his grim visage. “Very well played, my child. I would have almost believed thee. Thou hast the brilliance of an actor.”

Megumi kept a detached stare. “Father, I have fulfilled thine orders. What else must I—”

“And thou shall continue for until the war ends,” the cruel, tyrant emperor announced, “What hast thou gathered in Caelum aside from playing with that wretched girl’s heart?”

He took a deep breath and released it into thin air. “Satoru Gojou conspires to assassinate his own kinfolks, be in the highest throne, and hence take sovereignty over three empires.”

“Pathetic.” Toji showed boredom by sitting at his throne knowing that his rival’s treason would not eventuate because Astheryn was ten steps ahead. Megumi came to the palace of Caelum with a purpose and it was for the rivaling empire to corner them into unprepared war. He was meant to be caught and taken to the borders. You were just an instrument to their plans. Toji took his son’s forbidden romance for granted and used it as a tool to fuel his own interests. “That girl, is it love that thou seeks with her?”

Megumi’s breathing became still. He was a traitor, but never to his own land. “Love, not by hers, but of my own for this empire.”

The emperor blessed him with an approving nod. “And what is our goal?”

How heartless canst this man be? “To extend our suzerainty and depose Caelum until they are compelled to surrender.”

Toji ascended from his throne only to descend and meet his son down the steps, patting his back with much regard. “Stand high and be proud. A woman may be replaced, but an empire cannot,” said his father, “Thou wilt serve as a good emperor one day. This is everything I expect from thee.”

In Megumi’s head, he could see the flowery smile that you gave him before he left. The kisses you gave for when you saw felicity through him. His heart ached the more ill words he spoke. He did not want this, but he ought not to disobey his land.

“I care more for my throne than the daughter of my enemy.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈

Instead of being outraged, you were melancholic. You refused to believe Satoru’s words when he said that Megumi’s true intent was to be a spy in your own land. Wooed by his words was a foolish woman like you, but the three years of being in this forbidden romance thus earned you a right not to doubt the man that you loved.

Who do you believe? Is it thy brother or is it thy lover? When your heart was in grief, marrying a man not of your worship such as Prince Noritoshi of Exalos was never an option. You were in desperate need to give Megumi a chance to explain himself, clear himself, be honest with himself and for his triennium love.

Covered in a cloak and a face concealed with a hood—in a carriage meant for mails was how you trespassed the land of Astheryn. If Megumi could sneak through your walls, then you ought to do all the same. What was there to lose? Your father and mother never saw you as their own child, but as a mere pawn that they could use as their trump card. Satoru cared more for his ambitions than his own kin.

You were alone in a palace that was meant to be your home.

Lord Giuseppe saw you roaming outside the fences of the palace, searching for your prince in hopes of having the discourse you sought to have. You would have been long dead should the palace sentries catch sight of you, but blessed were you that Megumi’s trusted man was the one who found you sneaking in at their orchard.

“Dearest God! Princess Y/N, thou must not be seen in this palace—”

“Stop not a desperate woman,” you spoke, restraining your weak sentiments as you peered at his face from under the moonlight. Hurt was evident on your countenance. “Have me a word with the Prince.”

Giuseppe’s face enshrouded in panic. “A word can be exchanged through heralds. Come, I will take thee back to thy empire in safety.”

You stubbornly refused, a burning ache was seeping through your chest. “A word with Megumi,” close to breaking into tears, “P-Please. I refuse to think that he betrayed my love.”

“Betrayed, I have.”

The both of you swiftly turned to the owner of the deep voice to see Megumi walking closer through the darkness of the orchard. Such as the stars on a clear sky did not appear in his eyes. First you were frozen, second you were running to his arms.

“No,” your voice came out shaky, but you embraced him tighter, breathing the comfort of his scent where you now seek home, cupping his cheeks where your lips were once planted on. “Thou hadst been true to me, thou hadst not lied—”

Megumi had his hands wrapped on your arms, pulling away from your touch with a detached gaze. “Trusting an enemy is not what thou should have done.” He looked down at you in insouciance before ceaseless tears cascaded from your eyes.

“H-How canst thou utter such words after having been my lover for three years?” you cried, throwing a fist on his chest as you sobbed your heart out. “Thine words of affection were never false! We have learnt of this love since we were sixteen!!”

“And I have lived as a Zen’in since I was born,” he responded, looking away from your morose eyes. The pain in his chest was sealed by his stern front. “We were never meant to love. We were never star-cross’d lovers.”

Oh, as if the universe had thrown its gravity on your shoulders. As if the sun could never shine again to welcome the day. As if a flame was ignited in your chest, blazed by fire and left in ashes. If this was never love, then what could be? If such enmities were a plague for two people to love freely, you wished not to be a princess any longer than you have.

Your feet carried you a few steps back as you looked at Megumi with wide tearful eyes. “Dost thou not love me? Art thou unwilling to fight for me, to continue the marriage with me?”

The Prince failed to answer nor could he meet your eyes as he turned his back on you, “Giuseppe will escort thee back to thine empire. I shall feign ignorance of thy presence in our land.”

You drowned from your tears as you watched Megumi walk away, fading farther and farther from your sight with each step while you incessantly called for his name. Betrayed your family only to be betrayed by your lover. Was this nought but a wicked game?

“Thy heart doth not truly express this, Prince Megumi!” was your last words to yell before having Giuseppe pull your lethargic body to escort you away.

You were no longer looking to see how Megumi stopped in his tracks to look back at you. You were no longer in sight to watch how he closed his eyes in despair and swore himself a million times for breaking the heart of his one and only love.

You were back in your bedchambers in Caelum, comforted by your brother while Megumi was in his room being whipped by the callous emperor, receiving bloody laceration on his back as punishment for letting you leave the palace unharmed.

It would have been the perfect chance to have held you hostage, the emperor said, unbeknownst to the fact that his son was the real hostage in this tragic fate.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐗

The war had begun.

Yuuta was exiled and your arranged marriage was put on hold as the imperial family—that of the Emperor, the Empress, and the Crown Prince prepared for the bloodshed between the citizens of Astheryn and Caelum. How could Megumi let all of this happen? More importantly, what kind of person were you to risk your empires and the lives of civilians that arose from your selfish love?

Because of your actions, you were locked up in the palace dungeons while the war was ensuing. It had been a week since you last saw daylight and your refusal to eat anything had you weak and sickly.

You were better off as skin and bones. If Megumi could not love you because he was tied to his role as the Crown Prince, then who else would look at you in the eyes and adore you the same way? His words back at the palace were nothing but lies because you could not accept that he betrayed you.

How could those secret messages, those clandestine meetings, those stargazing back at The Providence be all a lie?

Satoru came down to see you in the palace dungeons one day in full armor as though he had just gone through an arduous day of sword fighting. He saw you in your travail, chains around your wrists like an animal kept in a cage. At that moment, the old Satoru came back. Pity bathed his eyes as he crouched down to look at you.

“I shall extricate thee from this place,” he promised, planting a kiss on your forehead from behind the bars. His jaw had clenched before he spoke again. “Have mine own hands besmirched with blood, for I vow to kill all of them.”

You gave a weak smile through your lassitude. “Is this not an admission of high treason?”

“Father and Mother do not deserve to rule the empire. Thou best not see what they have done to our own people,” he claimed as he found his seat on the ground, “Our knights were made to protect only the imperial family. They let the civilians shed their own blood for us.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “Th-That is—”

Satoru could only shake his head in frustration. “I am not a tyrant, Y/N. It is the likes of our parents and Toji who caused plague to both our houses.”

The inability to meet Satoru’s cerulean eyes was due to your regretful judgement towards your brother’s true motives. He had always been a better ruler than your parents, despite his rivalry with Toji, you could now see the reason why.

Satoru only despised the traditional system set by the two empires, but he would not go as far as to harm his own citizens in exchange. Had he communicated his plans more clearly, these would all have been prevented.

“Endless apologies must come from me unto thee,” you said, deep in forlorn.

“That is long forgotten,” he reassured, reaching for your hand. “As for the prince whose love you seek, he…”

How could such a name cause somersaults in your stomach? “He what?” Injured? Or perhaps, dead?!

On the unfortunate side of the spectrum, the stiffness in Satoru’s face could only mean bad news. Your heart was left unprepared when he said, “The kingdom of Ellesmere will aid Astheryn in this war to ensure our downfall, only with the condition that he will marry the princess who will bear him a child.”

The revelation had your soul leaving your body, ceasing to feel the searing pain that brought your heart to oblivion. You suddenly lost the will to live—no, you wished not to live to see him with a wife by his side. The screams of your heart were the loudest silence of all.

“Y/N—”

“Seek me the apothecary,” you pleaded, sinking back to your dungeon to be engulfed by sorrow. “Afterwards, go and tend to our people, Satoru. Thou art the only hope of this empire.”

He was the only hope for you have long given up.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗

Vestiges of war were left of Caelum when Megumi led his horse to pass through its empty streets. The warfare had ended in armistice with Emperor Toji and Crown Prince Satoru heavily injured after their sword fight. Not only did the current rulers cause their own downfall, civilians have also formed an uprising against their own empires after realizing that they were being mercilessly used for bloodshed.

Megumi was at a point of extreme weariness. He was tired of the chaos ensuing between two empires, protecting the civilians, and fighting for peace through war. He was tired of being a puppet by having to marry the Princess of Ellesmere, not by his choice but of his father’s. He was tired of the combative fighting, the number of knights he had encountered, the amount of souls he had taken away by imbruing his hands with their blood.

He had not heard from you since you came to Astheryn that one Thursday night and it was the most ruthless torture he had to ever go through. However, a word from Yuuta stating that he had to see you in person led him back to Caelum to get a glimpse of you.

As he hoisted himself out of the horse, he entered Saint Peter’s chapel where an aisle of candles and fresh iris flowers greeted him and his bloodstained armor. Like the promised wedding, you were there at the end of the aisle as if he was the bride who was walking towards you. In your ivory dress, enwreathed by white roses waiting for your prince charming by the altar.

Only, your body lay still on your deathbed like an angel in her peaceful sleep contrary to the war of demons outside of the chapel.

Megumi was benumbed. His feet could barely drag him proper steps as he slowly made his way to meet you across the aisle with a heart bleeding through its crevices. Alas, such a broken man was also breaking down.

You took your own life with a poison to help you, Yuuta told him, in your grief after hearing that Megumi had married another woman. You died thinking that he never truly loved you and had done the unforgivable act of betrayal.

Megumi’s eyes were filled with tears when he reached your deathbed, staring at your face thinking that you were just in a deep slumber. Not even the warmth of his fingers when he traced your cold cheek nor did the droplets of tears that fell on your chest had awoken you.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, blinking the tears that clouded his vision. He leaned down to press his lips against yours to kiss you for one last time, even as the recipient was nought but a soulless body. “There were no lies within my truths. My love, whose face is as fair in her eternal sleep, is the only woman that this heart seeks.”

The torturous pang inside his chest grew more painful with a torment so unbearable that he had to hug your body, head on your chest while he listened to your nonexistent heartbeat. His love, his only love was gone.

You were victims of your family’s rancor. A strife between kinfolks that put their pride above all else, but resulted in casualties that halted a love so free, so beautiful, and so innocent.

Megumi wiped his damp face with his hand, standing back up in realization. So innocent but tainted, he bitterly laughed to himself.

And he laughed more. He was in a fit of maniacal laughter through his tears, staring at the Holy Cross as he fell unhinged with the shock of bereavement.

His mind then took him back to the day where his father harassed him to fulfill his duties as the Crown Prince. The father that taught him that love could not make him happy as much as power would. How could he be stupid? If it was true, then why was Emperor Toji miserable despite being seated on the highest throne?

“This,” he looked up at the cross with a manic smile that did not match his sorrowful eyes, “This is how it ends!”

For fifty years of imperial strife shall end tonight.

“I shall seek thee and find thee. I will hold thee in thy true love's embrace, enfold thee within my heart, and never depart,” he mumbled one last time, a kiss sealed on your lips before he unsheathed his dagger. The sound of skin ripped through the air and echoed through the chapel as Megumi stood still, blood gushing out of his pierced heart before he fell on the ground next to where your body lay.

In peace was where both lovers rested.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

EPILOGUE

Thus, when the dead bodies of young Y/N and Megumi were found at the chapel of Saint Peter, citizens of Astheryn and Caelum broke into insurrection against their own empires to place an end to their families’ fifty-year grudge.

Long buried was the fatal war between the Gojou and Zen’in families, hereby decreed with a peace treaty signed by the ruling emperors, Toji Zen’in and Satoru Gojou, wherein no warfare shall continue henceforth. The truce shall heal the nation’s grief and mend each family’s loss with the promise of reconciled empires and restored relations.

[par2n2]

Amorgos [Αμοργός]

This one has been one of the very few islands of the Aegean Archipelago that I had never properly visited and explored, up until the previous April. Amorgos, a long, mountainous, cliffy and rocky piece of land lies on the eastern edges of the Cyclades, facing the islands of Keros, Koufonisia, Schoinousa, Iraklia and Naxos to the northwest, and Astypalaia to the southeast. Quite far from Piraeus (at least 9 hours away by ship), with no airport, Amorgos is regularly connected solely to Naxos and Mikres Kyklades [Μικρές Κυκλάδες], through a daily itinerary carried out by the famous Skopelitis small car ferry.

Remote and isolated from mainland Greece, but also from the majority of the islands of the Aegean Archipelago, Amorgos has built a unique and intriguing character. Not only its landscapes and vistas are spectacular, mountainous, full of cliffs with breathtaking views to the fathomless blue sea, but also its folk is a fusion of locals and foreigners, altogether forming an amalgamation of cultures, visions, origins and ends. As one of the island’s most recent settlers discussed with me during my short stay: ‘Amorgos should not be mistaken, nor confused to be a female, or a consoling woman to travellers, and strangers reaching its shores after a long and tiring journey [*]. On the contrary, Amorgos is a man, the close and solacing friend so much needed in grave and dire times, that will stand by your shoulder and shelter you, being a newcomer and a local alike’. Largely contributing to the reputation of Amorgos has been the Big Blue [Grand Bleu], a motion picture that has established the island as a unique alternative, non touristic destination, still standing, since mass tourism has not yet encroached nor consummated the unique qualities and moments captured by Luc Besson in the late ‘80s.

One of these unique instances has been unwound in front of my own eyes during the night of the Good Friday and the procession of Epitaphios in the village of Katapola, the main port of Amorgos. After Epitaphios has left the Cathedral carried by the mourning worshippers, a ritual takes place choreographed by the small scale fishing community of the island, when fishers man their fishing caiques, stock them with fireworks and flares to be fired, and follow the procession by sea close behind, grieving the Crucifixion of Christ. The feelings and the rewards I received during this peculiar customary tradition were more than moving, filling me with captivating moments and images.

Amorgos is full of surprises, a true gem for travellers striving to avoid the swarms of mass tourism and enjoy the pristine nature, since the island is renowned for its very well preserved long hiking cobblestone paths, crystal clear blue waters, and unspoiled natural habitats. Marine and terrestrial areas of the island have been already designated as parts of the EU Natura 2000 network of Protected areas, both as Special Areas of Conservation for habitats and species of community interest, but also as Specially Protected Areas for wild birds.

*All islands in Greece are of feminine gender, thus we Greeks think of them as females

I would like to sincerely thank the small scale fishers of Amorgos and I should highlight here that over the last years their association, named Hozoviotissa [Χοζοβιώτισσα], after the famous monastery hanging on the southern cliffs of the island, has been a pioneer in an joint effort to establish Marine Protected Areas and No Take Zones surrounding its marine waters, to promote sustainable fisheries, and decrease fishing effort especially through a temporary cessation of all fishing activities during fish spawning periods in April and May each year. At the same time they have been using their fishing fleet to collect and dispose of marine litter from all inaccessible beaches of Amorgos. This important cause has been named Amorgorama [Amorgos’ vision], seeking our support to become a reality soon! The main objective behind this initiative is not only to protect and restore the seriously degraded and overfished marine ecosystems, but also to preserve the traditional and low impact small scale fisheries of the island, the small family-based fishing businesses and the ancient Mediterranean fishing tradition itself, since it constitutes an integral element of Greek insular communities that have been striving to survive and sustain their livelihoods the last decade.

[butwhatifidothis]

The Eagles in this fic: "Boohoo, Byleth is being stolen from us! Are we not family? After we sat on our asses and did fucking nothing after she went through the horror and trauma of losing her dad and now that she's not acting in a way we like or approve of we think of her as inhuman and keep our distance?" I'll say this, if there's one thing Captain is excelling at it's making self centered characters. Now if only he was doing it on purpose.

I DIDN'T EVEN FACTOR IN THEIR BEHAVIOR WITH JERALT HOLY SHIT

You're fuckin' right nonnie!! They did shit all for Byleth while she was experiencing one of the literal worst things that can happen to someone, and then they have the fuckin' NERVE to be all "omg, the professor's acting so weird, it's so hard to talk with her, is she even one of us anymore?" when she's a little out of it when she's STILL PROCESSING THE FACT THAT SHE WAS TOSSED OUT OF REALITY AS HUMANS KNOW IT LIKE A FUCKIN' BASEBALL IN A HOMERUN. They have the nerve to be like "We're so sad, Rhea and Seteth and Flayn are stealing her away" when THEY left her alone in two immensely traumatic experiences for ANYONE TO GO THROUGH

Like, even with them not knowing that Byleth also merged with the goddess of Fodlan - who was also her one consistent companion for a long while - they literally saw her get thrown into a supposedly inescapable spell. She fuckin' made a tear through the air itself coming out of it. They're really gonna sit there and be like "I can't believe she isn't the exact same now as before this event happened" like fuckin' what?? And that's not even factoring in how this is the literal first thing to happen to Byleth AFTER HER FATHER WAS BRUTALLY MURDERED IN FRONT OF HER! So she's dealing with a shit ton of trauma right now, trauma the Black Eagles know she's going through, but because she's not acting as they want her to, when they abandon her in her time of need TWICE, suddenly we gotta bust out the dehumanizing language, we gotta blame anyone else, because GOD FOR-FUCKIN'-BID they try to do ANYTHING TO COMFORT HER EVER. God forbid someone try to comfort Byleth and not just get them moving to do what she wants Edelgard.

And we know that it wasn't about comforting Byleth, we know that that's an explicitly bad thing that the story does not approve of. How? Look at how Caspar was shot up the ass for daring to FUCKIN' SUGGEST doing so! He's the literal only one of the Black Eagles to have wanted to genuinely try to help out Byleth during her grieving period, and he gets absolutely shat on. We know that comforting Byleth is the wrong thing to do because Dimitri was shat on for doing so! He dared to share his own personal story with Byleth so that she wouldn't feel alone, and he's heavily implied to have made it about himself for doing so!

Whether intentional or not, the message the story lays out is clear: Byleth is not meant to be comforted. She's not meant to lean on anyone for support, save for occasionally Edelgard, but even then not as often as Edelgard leans on Byleth. Byleth can sit down with Edelgard after she has a night terror about the experiments and listen to Edelgard let out her anger and sadness about what happened to her, but Edelgard doing the same for Byleth when Byleth loses one of the most important people in her life? Unthinkable. Can't fuckin' happen. Byleth is only meant to comfort, she's not meant to be comforted. Byleth isn't allowed to have dreams - remember, Edelgard tells her that "oh, you don't need to have big dreams silly!" and she only tells her that because Edelgard wants Byleth to stay by her side and nothing else. Not out of concern, but out of selfishness. Byleth is just a glorified stress ball for everyone to squeeze, not a character. Treating Byleth like a character, as much as the story tries to say is the point of the fic, is in fact what the fic strives to denounce.

God, all of these characters are so fuckin' insufferable. I want them all atomized

[rureikia]

Chapter 4

[Previous] [Contents] [Soon...]

The start of high school was a very crucial milestone for me. Because not only did I have a crush on Kita, but I also got accepted to go to the same school like him too. 

Inarizaki High.

When I saw the magical letter of confirmation, my heart blossomed by a large magnitude.

I was so agitated with the thought of having three more years with Kita Shinsuke I thought I was beginning to see stars... I mean, for a young girl whose heart was fully set in stone for a celestial being like him, how could you not be awfully excited? It meant three more years of opportunities that I'd definitely not let go to waste, three more years of seeing his face! All the scenarios occurring in my head, in hopes that one day, these would come true...

I specifically remember on the day the letter arrived on how I was sprinting around the house to show mom and dad.

At the time, my parents didn't know why I was that happy over getting accepted since I used to be pretty distasteful about studying. But they quickly shifted it aside and congratulated me nevertheless.

It was like the scream painting. I can still draw out their faces in my head. Mom and dad were startled as they never expected me to have gotten into one of the top high schools in the prefecture — they ended up jumping along with me regardless of their previous doubts!

So on the first day of school, I marched out of my house in my new uniform, and a satisfied grin widely spread across my face.

The basic philosophy was to try and pass all exams, but the true aim for me was to find Kita Shinsuke, then ultimately confess to him. Next, he'd accept my confession and we would date, he then proposes, we get married, start a family ehehehe... Ah, I mustn't carry on or else I'll get too thoughtful...

But I was really excited (excitement lasted one-week maximum). I wanted to get to school pronto and see all the new people that would be circling me all through the next years. And so my determination was at its top game by then.

Whilst dusting my skirt and straightening it out, I closed my front door, but kept hold of my door handle to wait.

After a minute or two, from the opposite side of my street, I also heard someone else's door open.

I let go of my door handle, appearing as if I just came out of my house too.

In an instant, I knew who it was, hence why I gasped apprehensively to myself and thrashed around to look, "Ah, Kita!! Good morning!"

He sees me, adjusts his bag strap, and walks away without considering my call.

"Kita!" I called out again, assuming he didn't hear me the first time, "Wait for me!"

I was nearly about to run and go get him because he was already walking from a significant reach away. But just then, my mother abruptly forced the front door open with an annoyed scowl face before I had even managed to escape.

"(Y/N)! Why are you yelling so much in the morning? You sound like a stupid person, the neighbors will complain because of your loud mouth!" Her hands were on her hips, and she spoke to me in much vex.

I flashed a swift glimpse at Kita. 

Okay. He wasn't waiting for me.

Mom was still in the middle of scolding me, and I got impatient as she was suddenly like an obstacle I needed to overcome for me to catch up with fast-feet Kita Shinsuke.

"Yeah, yeah I'm in a hurry. Mom, let's talk later okay?" I replied in slight rashness.

"Excuse me? Why are you acting like that? If you are in such a hurry why are you still here? I don't understand!!" Mom grabbed my hand, throwing down 600 yen for lunch then shoved me away, "You forgot this too. Gosh... Who is this hopeless girl? I don't know her. Just leave now!"

Why must this old lady insult me so incredibly fast?

I halted to stare at the money in my palm and solemnly glanced back at her, "Wait, mom... This might not be enough for lunch..." I whined.

"Yes it is. Lunch is cheap there." She smacks my shoulder and I made another whine a tad louder at the impact, "Tsk, (Y/N) don't complain anymore. Just be grateful, have a good day, and go."

My shoulders grieved a bit but I went along with it, "OK thanks...Bye-bye..."

As soon as she closed the door on me, I left.

I tried my best to catch up with Kita who was walking by himself in the distance. And after seeing him in the same uniform as me, once again, I was unbearably excited to go approach him.

This was a period of time where I'd constantly be a hindrance to Kita. However, I didn't really take this into account until much much later.

Since I took interest in him during second-year middle school, that interest only developed from thereon. By the time it was third-year middle school, I full-blown liked him. And then at first-year high-school, it developed into something called puppy love.

Kita, he was rather laid-back about it. He didn't tell me to go away nor to stop talking to him — rather he would just let me do whatever whilst throwing cold logic at me whenever he feels the need to.

Well, I say that he's rather laid-back but in actuality, he'd try and evade me at times by ignoring the things I'd do. I was still childish and quite gullible, so I simply assumed he was bluffing to push me away and to hide his genuine feelings.

With that in mind, I remembered how back then I was wholly convinced that I could win him over in a jiffy. And this was entirely due to my mind being intoxicated from those all dramas, shoujo mangas, and anime's I watched in the past. Subsequently, I thought I owned a special power like no other, which was the power of love and commitment.

15-year-old me seriously believed that she would be able to do anything with the power of love deeply engraved in her soul. I basically believed I was the next generation's Sailor Moon...

For me to express my loyalty towards Kita, I revised everything needed for that entrance exam with extra diligence. And that was more than enough proof to show that the power of love really does work miracles. After all, because of my power, I was wearing the school's crest embedded on my blazer, the same one as whom I strived for.

"Kita good morning, hhh." I greeted breathily, speed-walking next to him.

He nods a response, "Morning."

I straightened my posture and smiled awkwardly at him by accident. Then I tried to strike up a conversation which was probably also accidentally awkward, "Kita don't you think this is such a coincidence? We will be going to the same school again this year. It's uh — it's a perfect match isn't it?"

He carries on walking forwards, without looking at me. "The entry requirements for Inarizaki must have lowered this year if that's the case."

I didn't know at the time, but this guy was totally degrading me here.

"Oh yes, that has happened. By a couple of points, it has lowered actually." I addressed with formality in my speech like some intellectual, "That means the God of fortune must be by my side, don't you think?"

Kita didn't reply and we walked in silence for a couple more seconds.

.......

"Uh......... Kita!" I called out.

The suddenness finally resulted in him shifting his head a little to peer at me.

"Kita, wait for a second." 

Kita listened for once, stopping in his tracks, glancing back at me.

When we were teenagers, he would experience my resilient pestering daily. This was additionally a section of life where relationships and emotions are new to everyone, especially for kids that were around that age — high-schoolers.

I can distinctly pick out the uncountable amounts of times where I'd loiter outside my house early in the morning just before he comes out. And when I hear his door open from across the street I would act as if I just came out too — "Kita, you just got ready now? Oh, what a coincidence, so have I."

There's also the case that would happen in school. I'd pack up all my belongings and shove it in my bag before the teacher dismissed the class. This was so I could have enough time to leave and walk home with Kita, "Another coincidence! I'm going to leave school too!"

"..." Eventually, I took a deep breath and gripped onto my bag straps that were wrapped around my shoulders tightly, building up the fury in my chest. Then studying around carefully I made sure no one was present before I took a few side-steps closer to him.

I don't know why I was such a shameless little girl back then. I have to admit that it's not very good to reminisce about my past, it hurts my dignity a lot.

But with the expression as if I was going to complete a huge quest, I confessed to him.

"I like you," I said.

Kita stared at me blankly for a second, then furrowed his eyebrows and told me, "I don't."

"..."

With that, my life advice is: do not read too much manga.

After the rejection, he blatantly left it at that and continued walking to school as if he forgot about it. I, on the other hand, felt extremely embarrassed and tried to think of what to do. My rational decision was to run off towards a different path like a coward.

Just as I was about to bolt, I nervously called out to Kita for the last time that morning, "I-I guess I'll see you later okay Kita?!"

He didn't acknowledge it since he didn't look back, but neither did I. And so we both departed ways.

Obviously, me being older now, I understand how I was unmistakably not as discreet as I presumed to be. I have been told by many friends that even an elephant wearing a shocking pink dress can do a better job at being discreet than me.

So I know now. Teenage Kita already could tell that I liked him for a very long time even before that terrible confession of mine. But oddly, he chose to not bother spilling to others regarding it, I still don't know to this day why.

As a child I was impatient, that's why I chose to confess on the actual first day of high-school. And that impatience lingered on for a while. I'm sure that this flaw caused me to be a nuisance to Kita Shinsuke; so he probably disliked that part, which is another thing I didn't think about until much later.

Later on, when I arrived at school, I experienced the worst sort of depressiveness where I felt my whole environment turn into a darkening abyss.

Outside the 1st year hallways, I examined the posters where it would tell us what class we would be assigned in.

KITA SHINSUKE: CLASS 7

Okay, that's very good!

(L/N) (Y/N): CLASS 2

That... I hate...

And so I dragged myself to Class 2 where a certain someone saw my dismal brooding.

"(L/N) why do you look like that? You look so miserable on your first day already?!" An enthusiastic voice called me out.

I gloomily averted my gaze up. It was my old friend, Taro.

Taro also went to the same middle school as me. And we became friends over the liking towards graphic novels — it was actually because of that interest of his, he wasn't very popular with the girls haha.

"...I'm not sad. I'm devastated." I sighed out in a daze.

He was eating bread, and talked with food still in his mouth, "Why?"

"Because I was put in a different class to what I think I really deserve. Don't you think the class rank system is a bit unfair?"

Taro snorted contemptuously and shook his head at my idea, "No not at all, you just want to be in the same class as Kita."

"Not so," I argued.

"Is so." He argued back with his head held higher, "(L/N), I don't know why you think this is unfair, you very much deserve it."

I glared at him in disapproval.

Then he proceeds, using the bread in his hand to gesture at me, "Whilst Kita has an IQ of at least 200, yours is way below in the negatives. So you're incredibly lucky that you weren't put in your true class. Class zero."

"Huh...? Class zero doesn't exist... What are you even saying?"

"You get to be in the same class as this intelligent guy instead!" Taro uses a spare hand to pat his chest, "Isn't that great (L/N)?!"

My face rapidly scrunched up in displeasure at those words and actions, "Uwah... Calling yourself intelligent. If you think that I have an IQ below the negatives, you will be the same as me since we're in the same class. Who do you think you are?"

"I am someone that at least has enough common sense to find someone not way out of my league, that's who I think I am."

I briefly grinned at him in annoyance and retaliated with a reply, "Go back to sit on your seat, leave me alone now."

He stifled a quiet laugh and did what I said with an effortless shrug.

I wasn't expecting to be put in class 2 to be honest. I would never expect myself in class 7 either. But I just wanted to be in the same class as Kita in hopes that we'd be deskmates for the following three years.

But as shown, that never happened.

Instead, I had to rely on my individual skills to be around him as much as I could.

I went straight to bed after last night and woke up with the worst possible headache that one could imagine. The headache was so bad in fact that I was concerned whether I had a type of brain disease and wasn't going to survive.

And the throbbing pain only attacked me once I groggily opened my eyes to see the sunshine which wasn't a good idea since I felt dizzy. So I had to cover my face with my duvets to stop any more light from stinging me.

I'm currently in pain right now, but I was quite okay when I was asleep and felt nothing. In fact, I underwent a type of sleep that was so deep, it confused my dreams towards real-life circumstances, making me rather delirious.

I opened my eyes again, reluctantly tossing around to squint at the ceiling fan, and tried hard to recall what happened yesterday.

From what I can accurately remember... I went to a goukon with Sumiko, I met some new people, I ate at least twenty dishes, I drank, I saw a handsome worker, I saw Kita with that handsome worker, I got frightened and quickly hid outside, but suddenly he was outside too(?!?!) so I was forced to talk with him for a minute before I went back inside, I drank some more and incidentally got drunk, I then remembered that he took me home because of how drunk I was......... And then, we kissed.

Oh yes, we k-i-s-s-e-d. Me and my ex-boyfriend.

And I was thinking about the kiss so much apparently I was given a dream about it too.

It was a dream akin to where I was with Kita. An altered memory of that same kiss replaying over and over again for what felt like hours on end. In that dream, we may have used a bit too much mouth work and tongue which isn't very good... Makes me feel quite abashed... Then I woke up with my cheek muscles feeling sore which additionally, isn't very good.

I rubbed my eyes sluggishly when lifting my torso from my bed to regain proper consciousness. I noticed was still wearing my work attire from yesterday, except I looked tenfold scruffier.

Did I fight someone while I was in the zone? Honestly, I'm so tired I didn't care about the context. So I'll just go back to sleep...

...Well, that's what I wanted until I heard a voice sing to me inside my head.

"If you remember... Call me."

"you remember... Call me."

"remember... Call me."

"Call me."

(GASP)

As expected from an unintentional flirt like Kita, his words woke me up.

I frantically attempted to roll out of bed but ended up falling flat on my back with a loud, painful thump. At the impact, I groaned, staggering to my feet and grabbing my phone that was on the top of my neatly folded work blazer by my chair.

Once I accomplished to scamper around like a bug, I turned it on to scroll to Kita's contact information and stared intensely at his name.

Me: "..."

No, I couldn't do it. I clicked on my friend Taro's contact information instead to procrastinate. And to my surprise, he picked up abnormally fast.

......

"Hello, good morning~!" Taro said in English appearing a bit too happy for my liking.

"Hey, it's me..." my hoarse morning voice croaked with a tired sigh at the end.

"Oh... Jesus Christ. That doesn't sound too good... What is it (L/N)? You sound a little dead." He said, "Did something happen last night?"

I nodded my head vigorously as if he could see me, but regretted when it made me feel woozy. "Yeah kinda... — wait, how did you know that something was going on last night?"

"Instagram aha. Well, Sumiko mainly."

"Eh...? Sumiko? Something must've happened with you two then." I scoffed, "Okay, tell me yours first. Go on."

"Alright, I'll be brief 'cuz I want to hear your story. But to summarise, Sumiko-chan broke up with me and she wanted to prove that she can find someone very quickly." He begins to explain, "I then checked Instagram last night to see some of the posts from the goukon you two were at."

Ah, their romance is a little confusing I should mention. This is probably the fourth time they "broke-up" this month.

To others, this might seem a bit neglective and unhealthy, but I know the most that these two care for each other strongly. Last night, I noticed that she didn't even bother flirting with any of the men. Instead, she talked with the women throughout the majority of the event.

I switched my phone from one ear to another, "So I've heard from herself that the two of you have broken up again. What's it this time? Did she get angry over something silly?" I asked, "Is that why she accepted the goukon invitation?"

"Pfft, obviously. Of course Sumiko got angry over something silly." He laughs, "But... She didn't run off like that to seriously break off with me. You know how she is. Sumiko just tried to prove me wrong in something because of how prideful she can be. Sometimes, she even has the same competitive energy as you."

I breathed out a chuckle, feeling a little more calmed down, "Impossible. I'm nothing like her when it comes to that sort of stuff. I'm not as confident."

"No way. I think you guys are definitely similar in that aspect. I've been with the two of you since high-school, I think I know the best." He affirms, and I shake my head at his claiming words, "Anyways, back to you. What's up (L/N)? Why'd you call?"

He reminded me why I wanted to call. And all of a sudden, I became remarkably hesitant. I was so hesitant actually I almost bit my tongue when opening my mouth to speak.

"Uh — Taro... You remember Kita, r-right?"

"Mhm, of course, yeah. Your ex-boyfriend, Mr. Perfect."

"Well... Me and Kita met last night..."

"Eh?! —" His tone jumps by four octaves in surprise, then deepens, "— Uh, Okay...?"

"And I wasn't really expecting him to be there..." I trailed.

Taro paused and inhaled sharply before filling words between our silent space, "(L/N), you're kind of scaring me now..."

Don't worry, I'm scaring myself too.

I swallowed the nervous saliva that built up as I struggled to speak, "And kinda...We maybe uh — kissed."

......

"WHAT?!" He loudly exclaimed. His side of the audio turned distorted and my eardrums burst.

"A-Ah yeah hahahaha..."

"LAST NIGHT?! Are you sure?! How come I didn't see him in any of the goukon posts though? Did Sumiko invite him purposely just to mess with you?! That's pure evil!! I'll scold her for you when she gets home... Wait unless... Are you guys back together then?! After three years, I thought you two would never be together ever again! But what the heck (L/N), you and Kita really kissed? What the actual fu-"

I can't do this anymore.

I hung up. His voice is quite annoying to listen to with a hangover like this. I'll let Taro try to figure out everything himself.

I scrolled through my contacts once more and attempted to call Sumiko but was immediately left on voicemail to my disappointment. So now, the only remaining person I wanted to call left was... Kita Shinsuke...

For some reason, when my finger hovered over his name it felt like I was being punished with the death penalty. And to make matters more nerve-wracking, once I clicked on his contact information, my hand was shaking whilst I raised my phone to my ear.

It took another couple of seconds, but his phone started ringing. Hearing the ring made me so scared to the point I shuddered and started pacing around my room.

......

Kita picked up and spoke first, "Hello?"

"Ah." I jolted.

Oh god, why did I make this phone call? I should have practiced what to say at the very least.

His voice stayed nonchalant, "(Y/N), what is it?"

Okay, I think I got something.

I stopped and took a whole two seconds to build up the confidence needed for the next thing I'm about to say.

Then, after a big breath, I began my rambling; "Okay Kita, listen here. I am very unhappy with you right now. You kissed me last night while I was drunk and you did it without my permission, it's not good to do that to someone in that state! Kita why? What on earth were you thinking?! Your actions were very wrong, and you need to think thoroughly about what you did, and you shouldn't do that to me again. In fact, you shouldn't do that to anyone!! Consent is very important to people, and if I was drunk you should haven't taken advantage! You're rather lucky that I am a nice person and that—"

He cuts me off, "(Y/N). Don't yell. I can hear you even if you speak normally."

I shut my mouth at his scold straight away and quietened by a significant volume, "Oh... Was I being too loud? Sorry about that... But still, you shouldn't interrupt so suddenly, I am trying to tell you something important..."

"You shouldn't be loud nonetheless, you'll feel light-headed if you have a hangover."

I was going to ramble again, but I had to stop myself when I sensed something peculiar in my environment.

Something wasn't right.

For a brief moment, I pressed my phone to my chest and silently glanced around as if trying to wait for an event to occur. When I became even more suspicious, I put my phone back to my ear, "Hold on, say something."

Kita, "Like what?"

I could hear two voices. Both unquestionably belonging to my ex-boyfriend. And to make matters worse, I also smelled something bad coming from outside my room. Hence why I hastily sped out of my room like a professional athlete.

The reason I could hear two different Kitas was because I saw him in my kitchen from the open living room. I panicked and ran straight there.

So it seemed that he really was in my apartment, therefore I wasn't experiencing complete hysteria. And he was also cooking something too (not a good sign), the phone still to his ear.

The only thing was, it smelled like pretty bad burning.

Fumes were coming out of my kitchen and I couldn't believe the fire alarm hadn't buzzed off violently by now.

I hurriedly ran inside my kitchen, my first animalistic instinct was to turn the stove off. My second animalistic instinct was to hold back this huge urge to do something to Kita. I really wanted to throw an object at him, maybe my cushion or my lamp because of what I had just witnessed.

For a man that is known to be good at everything, he doesn't seem to know a single damn thing about the kitchen, does he?

"Kita Shinsuke! What do you think you're doing?!" I exclaimed, taking the wok he grasped by the handle. I swear if I woke up any later my apartment would have fallen into a crisp.

He turned to look at me with the most innocent expression on his face, "You're up earlier than usual." He said, ignoring what he just did, "You used to sleep until 11 on weekends."

In return, I ignored his statement and stared at my precious wok, seeing charred eggs that were now an indescribable dark matter.

 I was using my index finger and thumb to carefully take it off, but it was stubbornly stuck to the material... It wasn't glamorous at all.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh, this guy forgot to put oil and burned everything... Ahhhhhhhhhhh I'm going to have a mental breakdown now... My wok!!! He ruined this one-of-a-kind wok I ordered from Beijing!!

I crouched down and placed my wok on the kitchen's tiled floor. Then very aggressively, I was scratching the top of my head, showing my painful distress, "Kita, why did you try and make eggs without oil? I have taught you in the past that you must put oil when making stuff like this, did I not? And I don't understand why you're in my apartment either!"

"I couldn't find your oil, so I used water." He said with a perfectly straight face.

"..."

I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it since I had nothing to say. And at this moment I felt utterly incompetent. Hence why I was sitting down on my kitchen floor, wanting to collapse and go to sleep right on this spot.

I have come to understand that I cannot understand Kita Shinsuke.

He then continued, "Last night you told me that you didn't want me to leave. That's why I'm here."

I looked up at him with a frown, "No. You're lying."

"I'm not."

"How come I don't remember that and remember everything else?"

"Maybe you were drunk." Kita shrugs and cracks a teasingly small smile, "What do you remember then?"

That question was atrocious because I knew what he was hinting at. So I had to hold my voice down even though really wanted to wail aloud, "How... drunk was I?"

"Hm. Do you really not remember anything?" he asks, crouching down to pick up the messed up wok and rose back up.

I remembered the kiss, after that everything truly was a blur, I couldn't seem to recall anything. No matter how hard I try to think back, nothing comes into my mind. Therefore I needed to check myself again. 

What happened? Is there anything different about me?

I'm still wearing my work attire, however, the blazer I had on last night was not on me anymore, it's neatly folded on my chair, which Kita must have done. I'm not wearing my stockings either and my blouse was untucked too...

Oh.

That's when electricity struck me.

I stood up with great suspense, wrapping my arms around my torso protectively, "You... —You didn't do anything to me, did you? I remember this kiss, but you haven't done anything after, right...?"

Kita's brows pinch in irritation and he pushes my forehead back with his index finger where I made a sound of struggle at the action.

"(Y/N) are you dim? What is going inside that small brain of yours?"

"A-Ah! I'm just asking out of worry..." I said slouching back, finally relaxing a bit, "You don't have to speak to me like that..."

Kita puts the wok in my sink whilst I slumped, gave up, and decided to go to put some water in my kettle to make tea. When doing so, I asked him another question.

"Were you here all night then?"

"Yeah." He replied.

Why?

"You should have woken me up," I chided, "I had a spare futon you could have used."

He shook his head modestly, "Your couch is comfortable too, so I was okay."

"I see."

"But what about you, did you sleep fine?"

I took a mug out of my cupboard and exhaled a little, "I slept fine as well. My head kinda hurts, but there's medicine in the bathroom, so I'll leave to go take that and wash myself up soon."

"That's good."

There was a lot to process already, but I decided to push that away for now.

One of my main concerns however was what he said to me some moments ago.

Kita claims that I told him I didn't want him to leave, which is the reason why he stayed. And I began to question what I might have said to him exactly for him to do actually listen to that supposed request.

He was washing the wok he ruined as I was now heavily debating what to do by eyeing him every couple of seconds or so.

I felt quite conflicted. I hated to think about how Kita was utterly handsome during those stealthy glances I did.

His hair was messed up, his eyes were more doe than usual. He wasn't wearing his jacket or sweater from last night but was presently wearing his T-shirt and jeans... And we were both standing here. In my kitchen. Where I sensed no discomfort coming from his body language as mine was astonishingly rigid.

Still, despite my negative demeanor, I couldn't help but contemplate while making a cup of tea. This is where the inner-conflict comes into play. 

I didn't know whether to hug him from behind like what you'd see in the movies. Or maybe secretly stand up on my tiptoes and deliver him a kiss on the cheek, or carry on watching his concentrated side profile while crying really big, salty tears.

In the end, I just called out his name, "Kita. Your tea is here."

He didn't answer verbally, but nods.

I tapped Kita's shoulder this time, "It'll get cold, drink fast."

To that, he takes a short glimpse at me then goes back to washing my traditional Chinese wok, "I'll clean this up first. It won't take long."

Hmm, perhaps he feels bad for the mess he made and is trying to make up for it.

"Okay," I said, "If it gets cold, you can just reheat. I'm going to wash up now."

He nods again in reassurance, and I give him one last glance before getting out of the kitchen to grab stuff for the bathroom.

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[hellzyeahwebwieldingreviews]

Untold Tales of Spider-Man 09: Deadly Force – by Richard Lee Byers

Pretty flawless honestly.

Spider-Man is still deep in mourning after the death of Gwen Stacy three weeks before. In the time since, a killed dubbed “the Rooftop Ripper” has murdered blonde women by carrying them to the tops of buildings and torturing them before tearing them apart with superhuman strength. With the Ripper’s victims reminding him of Gwen, Spidey is determined to bring the killer down. Spotting a figure climbing a building, Spidey pursues. When he gets to the roof, he finds the Ripper, a large man in a ski mask, waiting for him. Not intimidated at all, the Ripper tells Spidey he’s been anxious to have some “fun” with him. He goads Spidey by telling him he’s killed once tonight, then describes a bit of the gruesome details, finishing by promising to kill again if Spidey doesn’t stop him. Spidey leaps to the attack and the Ripper pummels him into unconsciousness.Spidey awakens hours later to find himself “cradled in someone’s arms.” He soon realizes the arms belong to another Ripper victim. He tears himself free. “Now he could see every ragged gash and mutilation. 

It looked as if the Ripper had carried away pieces of her as souvenirs.” Spidey remembers that the Ripper promised to kill again that evening if he wasn’t stopped. Anguished, Spidey departs. “But no matter how fast he swung through the city, he couldn’t leave the sight and feel of her behind, any more than he could forget the sight and feel of Gwen’s inert body dangling in his arms.”Later, an emotionally damaged Peter wanders the Empire State University campus. He doesn’t know how he’s going to stop the stronger, psychopathic Ripper. 

Then he realizes that he fought the Ripper “the way he fought everyone, taking care not to do any permanent damage.” He decides he must go all out, use “every iota of his strength from the first second.” But can he use deadly force when it “violated everything he believed in?” Still, he considers, “If he’d eliminated Dr. Octopus in one of their early encounters, the deranged scientist would never have gone on to cause the death of Gwen’s dad. If he’d killed the Green Goblin, Gwen herself would still be alive.” He decides that the Ripper is “viler than any of them” and mulls over the fact that, “Cops used deadly force when lives were at stake. Why shouldn’t a super-hero?” But he still can’t decide whether he can justify it enough to do it.Later, Spidey talks to the police at the scene of another Ripper murder and finds out they have no clues. 

As Peter, he goes to the Daily Bugle. There he sees Jonah Jameson’s latest headline: “Is Spider-Man the Ripper?” If hits him like a blow but he can’t get angry because “he couldn’t shake the ghastly feeling that even though the accusation was completely false, on another level it was entirely valid. Spider-Man was to blame for at least the most recent murders…because he’d failed to stop the Ripper when given the opportunity.” This decides him. When next encountering the Ripper, he plans to use deadly force. That night, “desperate for a rematch,” Spidey hears a woman scream and comes upon a ski-masked figure grappling with her. Using full power, he shatters the man’s shoulder and kicks him in the face before realizing his opponent is not the Ripper but a teen-aged purse snatcher. Soon after, Spidey watches as an ambulance takes the teen away and realizes he was lucky he didn’t kill him.

This incident reminds him that the only thing that keeps him from becoming the menace JJJ thinks he is, is his personal code of honor. He knows that he cannot try to kill the Ripper even if that puts him back where he started. Thinking about it, he realizes that he was tired and hungry in his last Ripper battle, as well as enraged and emotionally vulnerable. He vows to be better prepared next time.Not long after, Spidey witnesses the Ripper abduct another blonde woman and he follows him to the rooftop. Centering himself, Spidey uses his webbing, speed, and reflexes to separate the Ripper from his intended victim, unmask him (“…revealing a boyish face with apple cheeks and a snub nose, the face of a baseball player in a Norman Rockwell painting”), frustrate him, and enrage him. 

Then he goes on the offensive, pummeling the Ripper so severely that the killer tries to escape by throwing his victim off the roof. Reminded of his failure with Gwen, Spidey leaps down and rescues the woman, before catching up with the Ripper and knocking him out cold.In the aftermath, as the police take the Ripper away, Spidey wishes he could have caught the Ripper sooner, wishes he could have saved all his victims, wishes he could have saved Gwen. “But at least he tried. And he knew now that he would always strive to preserve life and never take it, even when facing an enemy as twisted and evil as the Ripper…Spider-Man was a hero, now and forever, and the knowledge eased his sorrow at least a bit.”

This is definitely one of the strongest stories in the anthology and a contender for the best one, or at least my favourite.

There are several reasons for that:

Unlike the other stories this one fits pretty relatively seamlessly into canon to the point where you could adapt it and not have to No. prize too much. The main continuity violation is the fact that Spidey by this time period had taken life before technically (the Finisher in ASM Annual #5) and had attempted to violently murder someone before (the Goblin in ASM #122). However, you could argue that the former was self-defence and the latter was a matter of revenge, which is not the same thing as flirting with becoming the Punisher out of principle

The story is incredibly believable in context as part of the Peter’s grieving process

The action set pieces are very clearly conveyed considering this is prose and we can’t actually see what is happening

The story expands upon a gap in time that not only has plenty of breathing room but is about a subject that’s frankly a lot more compelling than Doctor Bromwell or how Aunt May felt about Peter moving out or friggin Ant-Man. By making this story hinge upon Peter’s internal struggle and deal with a very specific MAJOR event in his life the audience is just naturally more emotionally invested.

The story strikes a balance between exploring the aftermath of a very specific life event for Peter but also a much broader conceit of the super hero genre

The story also keeps a tight focus with the story totally driven by what is going on with the Ripper and only using supporting players that serve that central narrative. Obviously we all love the supporting cast and the subplots they bring to the table, but for short stories like this I think a tight focus is ultimately a better option.

The weakest components of this story is the Ripper himself. We never learn how he got his powers, why he has a fetish for gruesomely killing blonde women and he’s sort of just…functional. He’s sort of like Doomsday in the ‘Death of Superman’ story. Everything about him revolves around a very specific purpose for one story.

I didn’t dislike him personally though, but taking a step back I can see why he is kind of a weak point in the story and why violently murdering blondes is probably on the nose for a Spidey story. For me personally though I wasn’t bothered.

I guess when you have a topic as serious as ‘should super heroes kill’ you do naturally invite violence into the story and having blonde women murdered from great heights makes Spidey’s consideration of excessive force totally believable.

But the story does a good job refuting this often discussed ideology that I despise from certain Spider-Man fans. It makes the astute point that if Spidey can beat the Rhino and other guys out of his weight class there is really very little reason for him to kill.

However, the perennial con of all these stories rears it’s head again. The narrator is just miscast for this anthology and that was never more true than with this tale. This story demands Spidey sound threatening and serious. The vocal performance just makes him sound WAY too soft.

Nevertheless, overall a solid story I’d recommend checking out.

[cainc3]

Saying Goodbye they say is always the hardest part...

I can’t believe it’s that time. It’s one of those things that I was hoping would never happen, but knew logically that everything always has an ending. I had just hoped that we would have more time... Arrow ending is like an arrow to my heart. It hurts so bad-- and honestly it feels like I’m losing a friend, the one constant I’ve had for almost 1/3 of my life. The one thing that I had to look forward to every week-- sometimes it’s the only thing that got me through. So it’s going to be rough, hard -- I’ve been trying to prepare myself since we found out last spring that the show would be ending with a shortened 8th season and I thought I was doing well. That was until the crossover and I’m sure I’ll be a blubbering mess through the two hours of Arrow tonight. I’m having trouble typing this out now as the tears run down my face.

You know that saying about not knowing how important something is until it’s gone... I feel like that’s me and the show, but I’m realizing the impact it’s had on me and what it really truly means to me right before it’s getting snatched away. This show has given me so much -- I’ve made friends that I would have never made if it wasn’t for this show and going to Comic Cons and talking about the show on here. The show ending won’t change that-- those friendships will last forever. We just won’t be able to analyze and debate new content. 

This show got me through some of the hardest times in my life -- it got me through my 20′s. This show had characters from all lifestyles and it gave me so much hope. It gave us Felicity Smoak -- a girl I relate to so much-- the ‘nerd’, smart, intelligent girl -- but she’s not just that she’s so much more. That’s me... You don’t see that in many shows. It gave me hope that eventually I will find someone who will accept all my quirks and  love me completely and unconditionally.

Arrow gave me so many great memories and adventures in the last 8 years -- I’ve met the majority of the cast and in doing so have gotten over some of my fear of talking to those that I admire or rather strive to be like and see has role models -- my anxiety is not nearly as bad as it used to be.

 This show has helped me deal with so many of my personal and mental health issues. I just don’t know what I’m going to do without that -- I know there will always be this Arrow/Olicity fandom community that I can rely on and I’m so thankful that I found this show and that it gave me that. 

I honestly don’t know what tomorrow will bring, or what will happen next Tuesday or the one after that when there won’t be a new episode of Arrow to DVR and watch. I feel like I most likely will have a period of grieving that I’ll go through -- and feel like I’m already in that grief cycle. I know some of my friends that don’t watch the show, and don’t understand it’s importance to me, don’t get why I’m taking this so hard -- but like I said it was that constant in my life, what I could always depend on -- though not real people -- all those characters -- Oliver, Felicity, Diggle, Thea etc. all became my friends and got me through some really hard times.  I’m going to try to focus on all that Arrow brought to me though -- this fandom and it how it healed me in a way that I didn’t know was possible or that I really even needed.  

I understand why the show is ending now and don’t have any ill-will for those behind the decision for ending it now. I do feel like, with any show, there’s a chance of going for too long and I’m so happy that they realized that and didn’t want that to happen to this great show. I’m just going to miss all my fictional friends -- I just don’t want the ‘book’ to end. I thank God for this fandom, fanfiction and invention of TV DVD Box Sets -- it’s really what’s going to get me through... I’ll be ok eventually it’s just going to take some time... 

I want to thank Stephen Amell, Emily Bett Rickards, David Ramsey, Willa Holland, Colton Haynes, Paul Blackthorne and the rest of the cast and crew of Arrow for bringing this show to life and making it what it became to be. It’s a legacy and it’s the end of an era. Nothing can ever touch this show and no one can ever bring those characters to life like they did. It was like magic in a bottle. 

Wow-- this post ended up being way longer than I had ever planned -- like I said I’m a lot like Felicity -- you get me started and I’ll keep going until someone interrupts me. LOL  

I know I’m going to cry lots of tears and use up my stock kleenex tonight -- but I hope that I’ll see you all on the other side... and that you all become that constant that the show was for me... when a show ends the fandom never does... 

Thank you Arrow-- Cait

[stewarttm]

⌠ FIVEL STEWART, 22, FEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SPENCER STEWART! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in THREAT ELIMINATION; KNIFE FIGHTING SKILLS, SWORD TRAINING, PRECISION SHOOTING, FIREARMS & SWAT TRAINING; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (lived-in red lip stain, loose braids, hiked up skirts, earth tones matching freckles, and sarcastic comments). when it’s the (virgo’s) birthday on AUGUST 29, 1998, they always request their VEGAN PANKO CRUSTED PICCATA from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ kara, 26, she/her, est ⍀

life before gallagher.

SPENCER STEWART --- a plain name for a girl that is anything but.

Born Aurora “Rory” Belikov.

Rory grew up unconventionally on a ranch in Tucson, Arizona. The ranch was private, secure, and secluded for acres upon acres of land.

Tending to the garden with her mother was her favorite activity, always helping prep the fruits and vegetables they had grown to be used as fresh, unadulterated fuel at dinner each night.

By the time she got in, her dad would be training with her brother James, or “Jay” as they called him. 

Rory’s jealousy rose quickly when her father refused to train her as well despite the very little age gap between herself and her brother.

She began relentlessly training, picking fights with Jay in an attempt to prove herself to her father. It worked while simultaneously instilling a relentless drive in Rory at a young age.

While to the untrained eye, the Belikovs are a simple, farm friendly family, the truth is that “Belikov” has been a world renowned name in the spy industry for generations.

Rory and Jay were trained by their parents together and individually until they finally hit their teen years, as they were each promised to begin aiding their parents on missions at the ripe age of thirteen.

By the end of her thirteenth year, Rory would have been on twenty six missions, already doubling her age; it was an unconventional learning program, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The competitive nature between Rory and her brother may have been mostly one sided. Being younger meant always being compared to Jay, living in his shadow, being one perfected move behind. Her strive for excellence would isolate her from her family, her colleagues, and occasionally herself. 

Luckily, Belikov rules stated “Family First,” which is what always kept the Belikovs attached at the hip. 

While any life outside of the spy world, social or otherwise, was out of the question, Rory found her own semblance of teen normality in other spy families. She knew from a young age that her attraction was for females, finding herself stealing kisses at sleepovers, though they were few and far between. Rory was far removed from regular society that she never realized identifying as a lesbian was necessarily “different.” Between this, her supportive family, and the wealth and stature she was born into, Rory experienced extreme privilege.

The Belikovs were so attached at the hip that one would find it difficult to believe there was room for secrets amongst them. If Aurora could be open about her sexuality, for example, what other aspects of life were there to hide? The answer to this is still out of either Rory or Jay’s reach. 

What they do know is that on a particular mission while they were both twenty one, their parents had given strict orders for Rory and Jay to stay behind. Rory fought this with all her being, but Jay, being the good son that he was, kept her grounded.

Little did they know, this rogue mission would be the last. Their parents had been keeping confidential information from them all along.

While the Belikov name was highly regarded, it was to an elite group. This means their names would not be found nor commemorated with an obituary in the New York Times. In fact, their deaths would barely be mentioned at all. 

Proof of the Belikov name could be found in the way teachers at Gallagher stole glances at Rory and Jay’s in the halls and in class and anywhere they might pass. Some eyes would reveal themselves to be awestruck, others jealous, some bewildered, so on and so forth. Perhaps they just couldn’t believe the rumors to be true. Perhaps they couldn’t wrap their heads around the Belikovs being human and destructible. Most days, Rory couldn’t wrap her head around it either.

Rory and Jay didn’t survive long after their parents’ passing. Their orders to stay back during the mission were soon followed by strangers arriving with news of their parents’ passing. The two were now orphans to be guarded by the United States’ Federal Witness Protection Program. Under the impression that it was a rouse and a trap meant that Rory put up a fight. In her nightmares, the sound of her own screams from that day haunt her. She would wake up with a scratchy throat as if she’d been yelling “no” all over again. In her nightmares she ran toward a sea of extreme darkness in search of the closure she was never given, but she couldn’t even get that much in her dreams.

Spencer and Sebastian (Bash) Stewart were given their S-clad names in Witness Protection. It was mandated that the two disassociate from their previous life, names included, as a safety precaution.

Despite being in the field for seven years, her brother eight, it was determined that for either of them to move forward in their field they would have to successfully fulfill the required training at Gallagher Academy. The mandate came after less than a six month grieving period, offering the two barely any time to adjust to their new normal.

life at gallagher.

Spencer and Sebastian Stewart were transferred into first year together after the school term had already started. Falsified records would state that they were taking summer prerequisites and attended orientation in the Fall along with their classmates. Documents disproved their absence to keep from raising suspicion. This, they were told, would be enough to ensure that Rory and Jay Spencer and Bash were not met with the same fate as their parents.

Once at Gallagher, “Spencer” assumed her new identity and refused to deal with the turmoil of her parents’ death head on. Instead, she tapped into the drive she’d practiced since a young age in an attempt to secure her place as head of her class.

Spencer intends to be the very best at Gallagher, wanting to thrive and be looked at with the same prestige as her parents. She is anxious to get back on the field and can be found rolling her eyes at the amateur skill level she is surrounded by in first year.

Without being given time to cope, Spencer was thrown into a newfound society: school. It is a reality Spencer knows nothing about, which means she often finds herself feeling out of place. 

Being lumped together with her brother is intimidating for the younger Stewart, sparking her fight or flight mode instantaneously. For her entire life, Spencer had been her “parents’ daughter.” Now, she feared becoming, “Bash’s little sister.” 

Her first year would be spent trying to make a name for herself while also coming to terms with the fact that perfection is unattainable and that there is life beyond her studies, whether that’s rooted in friendship, romance, or something else entirely.

In an attempt to defeat the fear of never being acknowledged as her own person, Spencer begins acting out in an attempt to make a name for herself. She is bold, brazen, new, but eventually finds herself in a deep depressive spiral. 

After maneuvering her new highs and lows in her new environment, Spencer manages to make it out the other side alive and well with the help of a school therapist and some good friends.

She eventually falls into the stride that is being herself. She is a secret keeper, first and foremost, struggling to hide her former life behind her Gallagher facade, especially when her brother continues to push the envelope of “sharing” their truths with whomever he deems worthy.

Spencer's affection is soft and intimate and intense, though offered sparingly. 

about spencer.

Her style is preppy, but rough around the edges. Think large gold hoops, knitted sweaters, plaid skirts, combat boots. 

She keeps people at arms length for fear of a) hurting them, b) being found out, c) getting hurt herself. 

There’s always an excuse as to why she isolates herself, though more than anything it is because she is a creature of habit.

Despite a good attempt at proving otherwise, Spencer realizes she is human, and that her humanity craves company, validation and affection.

This year’s goal is to find out the truth about what happened to her parents and eliminate the threat that way she can rightfully reclaim the Belikov name.

wanted connections. romantic/sexual wcs open to female-identifying characters only.

the adamant friend.  spencer can be reserved, not one to seek intimate relationships friendship or otherwise. this person has found something they like about spencer and decide they want to be her friend. while she’s giving the bare minimum, they keep showing up, until eventually, she finds herself realizing that she actually enjoys their company, maybe even needs it. 

the adament more-than-friend.  this person either hit it off with spencer emotionally, OR the two have undeniable sexual chemistry. (could be combined with a fwb or start as such.) this person wants more from spencer than she’s willing to give. closed off, reserved, unattached, spencer refuses to cave into either a) vulnerability or b) sexual relations with this person, but they are hell-bent on getting her to try things on. 

the enabler. spencer has a bad habit of doing things on a whim. despite her impressive work ethic, she can be vastly irresponsible. this person rescues spencer from her own irresponsible tendencies and bails her out of situations in which she could harm orself or others. maybe this person doesn't even realize this bail out is enabling her and just think they're being helpful.

the enemies to... something. hate’s a strong word, but it’s possible that spencer doesn’t think it’s strong enough. for some reason, these two do not get along, do not like each other, can’t stand each other, and make it evidently clear. somewhere along the way, their hate-ship hits a snag. this could b because of e a situation, a common interest, a crush, etc. they grow soft for one another in a way neither of them verbalizes, but becomes clear, blurring the very clear lines they had before.

the ex. (romantic). person could either be someone she dated in first year or pre-gallagher all together. this could be

the ex. (fwb). for a brief period in time (utp) these two were hooking up. for some reason, whether that’s a falling out, one ghosting the other, turmoil happening, spencer no longer showing interest (she’s a fickle mf).

the fool. this person creates chaos for spencer. they like to take risks, avoid commitments and responsibilities, have zero fears and love freedom. this person is probably charming and spencer likes being around them because they keep her young and child-like.

the fwb. (platonic). these two aren’t exactly friends, but have found that keeping the other around has offered them some sort of benefit, whether that’s someone who’s up at the same hours of the night, someone who has information and intel for the other. these two probably wouldn’t be friends if they couldn’t use the other for something.

the fwb. (nsfw). self explanatory.

the mom friend. having a mom friend would probably annoy spencer to no end, but since she is missing that key role in her life, she keeps them around and finds comfort and solace in their friendship. is probably a good shoulder to cry on, always there for you type.

the scape goat. for some reason spencer sees this person as the problem. when it takes spencer a moment longer than it should to be self aware, she blames this person for her problems because they’re an easy target in her life for doing so.

the rival. someone with whom spencer shares a not-so-healthy dose of competition.

the romantic. romantic, sincere, dedicated to object her affection. they offer her a sense of home, a sense of safety. (could be combined with the soft side).

the soft side. this person is a little rough around the edges. they have a certain reputation for being either bad or chaotic or rebellious or independent. for some reason, spencer is the person they let into their softer side, that side that no one else knows they have. they trust her with their vulnerabilities.

the soul mate. (platonic). self explanatory/utp.

the soul mate. (romantic). self explanatory/utp.

their stuck together. whether it’s always being in each others’ way at the gym, always seeing each other in the library at the same time, or their teachers’ always pairing them together for school projects, she and this person seem to always be getting lumped together whether they like it or not.

the study buddy. a person that spencer can usually rely on when she doesn’t want to study alone, wants to quiz each other, etc. preferably someone academically inclined.

[stormbornbastard]

Daenerys Targaryen Rant

Look, I'm new to the GOT fandom and being on Tumblr overloads with you a lot of information at once. This fandom, is like the definition of toxic and for what? Ships? I have to laugh.

I'm only gonna address one thing but believe me, I've got a list so let's do this shit.

One thing I've noticed is the overwhelming hate against Daenerys Targaryen, for her cruelty and impulsiveness in some of her actions. In no way do I agree with all of them but I refuse to reduce her complex character and story buildup to that of a villain or a mad queen.

Daenerys has simultaneously figured out to be loved and feared all at once by her people which is fucking amazing. She was not born with the same training to rule as other highborns. She was not given some handbook on how to be the perfect fucking queen for the people and herself. She makes mistakes and acts impulsively but not at all times and the times she has, she's paid for them greatly and if she hasn't learned from them now, she will. Its trial and error with her, it's the only path of ruling and conqueror she has.

By no means do her mistakes outweigh her good deeds. Daenerys has done questionable things for her claim to the throne but honestly at this point, who hasn't? (Jon isn't aware of his claim so just don't)

She's not just some benevolent and perfect ruler who shows mercy to all and does nothing wrong. You wanna know why? Because that ruler doesn't exist. No real person is capable enough to do that because real people are flawed and since GOT tries to reflect real people in their characters, Daenerys is flawed too.

Those flaws do not make her incompetent enough to rule nor do they take away all that she fought to overcome and gain (screw anyone who thinks that shit was just handed to her, her name didn't mean shit. The Targaryens had been discarded before her and the name and entitlement can only get one so far, look at Viserys for example if you need to)

A lot of people want her to be more compassionate and empathetic with her enemies and people who pose a threat but why should she? Her enemies have never been compassionate and empathetic with her. Daenerys was raised with cruelty, she was only shown cruelty by all those who were supposed to love her which is why I believe she has no problem being cruel to those who pose a threat. It's all she's knew, the cruelty others for a very long time. As much as you wanna discard her backstory, its integral to shaping the person she is.

We have seen her ability to grow as a character and show more than the death and destruction that Targaryens have left behind. She cannot learn all the capabilities of a kind and good queen when she has rarely known kindness and goodness herself. But she is growing, her sacrificing a dragon who she considered a child of her own in an effort to help defend the north against the white walkers (without Jon bending the knee first) shows her ability to put people before her own political even fucking personal interest. (Another impulsive action that she paid/ will pay for and fucking learned/will learn from. Also can we acknowledge the fact that instead of holding animosity towards Jon for the death of her dragon like she could've, she empathizes with him and instead wants to help him destroy the night king BEFORE he bends the knee all while grieving her fucking child! Dany had no indication that he would bend the knee if she helped him, none. Yet she still wanted to help him destroy the night king and protect the north and it's people regardless!)

A lot of people have ridiculously high expectations of her even though when she started the show, she had no political experience, no good social experience, no military experience, no experiences one needs to rule. Yet she gained them (she wasn't given some wise person along her entire path to help her do it either) and she gained a council of people to advise her and that she trusts with her life to become a better fucking queen and to give her knowledge when she lacks it because she knows she doesn't know everything about ruling. She's aware of almost all of her flaws and she's worked to improve on them. She's not the second coming of Robb Stark (we all wish he was still here) but she is Daenerys motherfucking Targaryen and that means something and not because of her ancestry.

Do I want her to receive the iron throne? Fuck no. I hope its destroyed along with the wheel.

Do I think she doesn't deserve to be a queen? Fuck no, she's earned it.

So stop discrediting her and fixating on her bad qualities when there is so much more of her to see.

And for fucks sakes, stop pitting her and Sansa Stark against one another. They both are remarkable fucking women who have coped with terrible shit to become who they are and they're situations as rulers are rarely the same. Most of y'all are hating on one of them because she gets in the way of a ship and its pathetic.

Sansa helps protect and maintain the north as ruler and was born a Stark which means something there and gives her some kind of respect. Dany is a fucking ruler and conqueror and the Targaryen name held nothing but negative connotations of destruction, failure and death in GOT society before her, she is consistently judged by the sins of her family. She's not familiar with every land she plans to control but she wants to be, wants to be a voice for the people and those who are oppressed just as she was. Conquering and ruling a new kingdom and ruling a well established one that you grew up in (therefore she's familiar with customs, the people and ways of life in the north) is nowhere near the same thing.

I'm not discrediting Sansa, I love her and she's an amazing ruler but she had some aspects afforded to her that Daenerys doesn't.

I know she's got an ego but shit, if I had done the things she did and overcome the things she has, my head would either be too fucking big to fit through my front door or I would've offed myself before Dany gained her first dragons (I honestly don't know if I would've had the strength to get past that point).There is no question about her strength and resilience because she's got a fuck ton of it.

One more thing, after Jon bends the knee and she says "I hope I deserve it!" THAT SHIT! THAT NEEDS TO BE FUCKING TALKED ABOUT! Dany isn't as collected as she paints herself to be, she doubts her actions just as everyone does theirs but she does it in secret. She's just not in a position to be open about her insecurities and doubts which is why she doesn't show them to anyone. She's never really been. Dany has never had family who genuinely and unconditionally loved her like the Starks have their entire lives. She has never had the comfort of confiding in someone like they have or trusting someone the way they do. Even now, the people who love her mostly love her for what she can offer them and what she represents, not who she is. She's always relied on herself for that which is probably why she's not as open and vulnerable as people would like her to be. It could even be said without all she represents or her dragons or her power, no one would love her.

She's grown up without it. Abuse taking its place, she would have no one without her claim. The starks would have each others which is why I think she holds onto it and enforces so much. Her claim has given her people who love her, the things she can offer have given her the people that love her. That sucks but it what it is.

Her questioning her ability to rule, her insecurity shows that she will not let her pride and ego get in the way of being a good queen if she gains the seven kingdom. Just because she exerts confidence does not mean she is overconfident or stuck in the belief of her entitlement to the throne. She worries she will not be the queen the seven kingdoms need which is exactly why she could be. Because those thoughts will keep her vigilant and attentive to all the shit she's needs to get done once she's no longer prioritized with conquering.

And to address her motives, or what I believe are her motives, Dany likes power. Why is that a bad thing? For a long period in life, she was considered weak and powerless, a pawn for those with power. She knows what it means to suffer (the death of her family, her husband [Stockholm syndrome but let me not start because she did love him], her only child Rhaego, and her dragon who she loves like a child, being raped, etc.) She knows it and she will never allow herself to be powerless again, she will never allow herself to be weak (I'm pretty sure she associates vulnerability with weakness at this point) in the face of threats, potential allies and the suffering of her, her people or both.

Why is that a bad thing? For her to be powerful, because that's what she equates it with strength. Power keeps her from weakness and I think it's why she strives for as much as possible so that she will never know that feeling of powerlessness again and so that her people who depend on her will never know suffering at the hands of the powerful again. It's not because of her "selfish belief that she deserves it." She wants it and forced herself to belief she's entitled and deserves it because while on the throne, she can secure protection from those who would do the horrific things she's endured and seen with that power to those without it.

She may result to cruelty when needed but that does not make her an evil person/ruler (yes I know about the Tarlys who refused to bend the knee for her. She made a power move, seeing as there were witnesses and the men who witnessed could see her not delivering on her threat of death as a weakness and eventually try and move against her, and she killed them. Now they all know she means fucking business. Also the Tarlys betrayed House Targaryen and Tyrell and were responsible for the death of thousands of Tyrell men. This is all Daenerys know of them, why do ya'll just ignore that. You act like Dany killed an innocent or someone she had a strong emotional attachment to but that's not the case. Her action was a strategic, political move and they chose to defy her when she gave them a choice) It wasn't right but it instilled fear, she cannot rule with just love. You can love someone and still plot against them, if people fear the consequences of what could happen if they fail, it'll hold them back. She needs both fear and love to rule. Loved enough to fight for her, feared enough to not move against her.

It's one a.m. but I had to get this off my chest, so yeah, I'm done.

[mariellewritesalot]

Not Enough Words

Here’s a confession: I feel like I haven’t been writing much lately.

Don’t get me wrong, I do write, but there’s a fine line between writing because I have to and writing because I want to. Somehow, despite the difference being indistinguishable so long as movement is concerned, I can’t help but feel frustrated over my craft. Ironically, I am a Malikhaing Pagsulat major, which in itself, is a life of writing, revising, and workshops until I get sick of it. Writers don’t have much choice, anyway, because we are expected to know how to write no matter the situation. It’s practically our job. We’re supposed to be quick on our feet (nay, hands) lest we lose credibility and edge over the others.

It’s a common misconception that good writers can write anything in a heartbeat, but I feel like our disposition plays a major role on the output we produce. While anything can be researched on or experienced just so we can write efficiently, nothing compares to pouring words on paper (or on the computer screen) and feeling cathartic because there’s a little bit of your heart and soul there somewhere. I don’t know. I’m probably overthinking it; but personally, being a writer means more to me than just a job description or something I am deemed to be talented at. For the most part, it’s an identity. I can’t set myself apart, I don’t see myself not resorting to writing, even on my off days.

So, maybe I do care more about my writing than I do about anything else. It’s my form of communication and expression, a version of art, if you may. I spent years, and will continue to do so, mastering my craft. Hopefully not for the sake of others exploiting it, but for me to be at ease with who I’m becoming every day. I’ve never felt like I’ve done enough, and if there’s anything I know to be true it’s that a writer never stops learning and experiencing, finding the right words along the process or building/renovating their style repeatedly. A process with no definite ending. I could win a hundred awards or publish various books one day and still feel humbled, thinking I can still do better, or that I am not as talented as people believe me to be. Despite all these, though, even writers sometimes need a break from the entire ordeal. In my prolonged breaks, I truly find myself asking: Is a writer still a writer even when they stop writing for a long time? 

I wish I was the kind of writer who incessantly wrote on a journal and can’t live without it, or read at least 3 books a month without them being requirements for school, but I still fall short on that ideal even to this day. I haven’t stopped trying, though. Lately, I have succumbed to social media, addicted to tweeting, mindless scrolling, and curating my feed. I have become a slave to academics, my job at the school newspaper, and cheap thrills other college students also enjoy. Even when I’m turning in essays, poems, stories, and articles every week, I feel disconnected from all the writing; especially when I do it just so I can meet deadlines. As a result, I tend to shy away from it or feel that my brain is fried from doing it for long periods of time without rest--when writing used to be exactly that for me; a relief. I’m starting to think that maybe what *Confucius* implied about choosing a job you love so you’ll never have to work a day in your life wasn’t exactly right, and that passion is only as good when the fire’s still burning. Just probably not when it turns me into a burnout, at a really early age, at that. I’m always going to be in love with writing, but I have got to learn to stop putting pressure on myself. There are some things that I simply won’t have the words for, and I have to accept that. Whether it be a good thing or the exact opposite, there will be moments when I won’t know what to say. If words fail me, they can always find their way back when it’s right again.

With awards season just around the corner, people have been asking me if I’ll be joining the Palanca’s this year after winning in 2017 and deliberately choosing not to submit anything in 2018. My honest answer is that I don’t know, and whenever I do join contests, I don’t usually tell people about them because I get way too tense even in the process of creating the piece itself. That way, I can take losses quietly and work on what I can improve more for the next time I feel courageous. There have been a lot of defeats I’ve been quiet about, and though it always comes as a surprise to me whenever I win, taking the L isn’t exactly as gracious as it should feel, either. I tend to stop writing, even, for a while until I regain my footing. People would always try to console me in a backhanded kind of way that they don’t exactly understand, like when they point out that it doesn’t matter if I lose other contests if I have a national literary award already on my resume; in their eyes, I’ve already made my point. I’d rather be told that I can do better, or that maybe it just isn’t my time yet. I don’t want to cling onto my old achievements or credentials to make myself feel better.

The thing is: I don’t think about it that way. I don’t want to. If I did, I wouldn’t grow as a writer. I want to look at what I do with more veracity. It does feel good to be validated, but I don’t want to be closed off in a box and stay stagnant, thinking that I know everything just because of one award. Don’t get me wrong, It’s a huge blessing to me of course, but it shouldn’t encompass everything I do as a writer. It shouldn’t end there, it shouldn’t be the only thing remarkable about me. I don’t even want to compete with anyone else but myself, but not in a way that doesn’t help me further. I love good writing, and won’t trash other people for it, even if they wind up doing better than I’ll ever do. Truth be told, I can’t even go back to reading my winning piece sometimes because I feel like it still isn’t real to me. There’s more writing that needs to be done, hopefully, with more purpose. I don’t want to write for my sake only or for other people’s validation. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be yet, or what kind of writing it is that I’m really good at, but at least give me this. Give me time to grieve or feel bad over things that don’t work out about my writing, or for feeling so lost in it that I don’t know if most days I could still pinpoint my style in a sea of words. I acknowledge that I’ve done more than enough to further my career at this point, but I want to be continuously striving for greatness. I love writing, I really do, but I think everyone knows that we’re allowed to be a little angry or frustrated or want to get away from something (or someone) we love, even for a while. It wouldn’t be the real thing without challenges or even the occasional close calls.

With that said, I guess what I really want to do right now is to rediscover myself and my craft every day. In a reflective week like this, no less. Life hasn’t been exactly kind to me lately, but somehow, I don’t feel like writing about my tragedies more than I usually do. So it is true that not everything is worth writing about. To better my often deteriorating mental health, I’ve taken necessary steps to get well. In one of the conversations I’ve had with my counselor regarding my emotions, I admitted that maybe I feel deeply because it’s essential to being a writer. As much as I hate being this way, I am afraid of not being as good as I am aspiring to be if I suddenly turn numb or do better at handling my mess. She nodded as if she understood, trying to redirect my anxiety over it, “I think what you need for your writing is more experiences, not more feelings.”

I want to emphasize that I am still learning, as I always will be, and that I will make mistakes; both in real life and my career. Some people won’t read my writing or read it only so they could find fault between the lines and I want to be okay with that, because there are also people out there (maybe like you) who take the time out of their day to read whatever it is I wrote. So, I think it’s okay if I take a little longer to reach a few milestones. If I’m in it for the long run, I don’t have to know or have everything right away. I’ll find my way soon, and get a little bit lost again, but like all else--as long as I am trying, that’s good enough for me.

This Holy Week I’ve included writing and reading books in my plan, so I’m not on social media that much. It’s been good, I think I’m accomplishing more than I would normally do. I hope I curb the bad habit of staying online for too long, it might help with my focus especially during all-nighters, social gatherings, or you know, finally finishing the first draft of my debut novel. You probably won’t hear from me again for a while since college has been taking up more of my time, but I might have a bunch of poetry and prose to release soon. Stay tuned!

Always,

Mar

P.S. I finally revamped my blog theme after a ridiculously long amount of time! Even went around the new Tumblr guidelines on custom themes, so I feel pretty proud of myself for ‘debugging’ the code until it worked. This one’s more reader friendly albeit simple, and I’ve added an all-new tab on my Filipino writing since I’ve been doing a lot of it in school and I want to track my progress. Check it out and let me know what I can do more by leaving me a message!

[snailconvention]

Reflection of a Dark Age

One night in ceremony my soul became eclipsed in confrontation with a sentient vessel that soundlessly rumbled past, obscuring even the faintest glimmer of light--an embodied dark age, a devoid-of-lightship whose trajectory left a trail of atrophy in its wake. On this archon's belly a swastika was iconically depicted. Dragging along the visionary sky of mind like a magnet it attracted the heavy metal of genetic trauma to the surface, as this was clearly the same dark magnet that had passed over humanity seven decades ago, striving to systematically wipe the earth's hard drive clean of the genetic data of my people. It appears as though this thing swims around eternity like a shark, surfacing in time once and again to feed. The notion of brighter days seemed a distant dream in the face of this powerful deletist and erasist force. Bearing witness to its stark thunderous waltz, as it mercilessly trampled on sacred ground, I understood how in the eyes of my ancestors--those who lived or didn't live through the holocaust--Faith in a benevolent creator seemed little more than a fantasy, unsustainable in the face of such thoughtless monstrous brutality.

Eventually after a long period of helpless, hopeless grieving and praying, long after the vessel's passing--its memory still haunting me--a small legion of consolatory, healing spirits began to appear in my peripheral vision. Gossamer transparent flickerings, subtle jellyfish-like membranes, pulsing phosphorescents--like the lively dandelion puffs from Avatar's tree of life, luminous as the submarine aliens from The Abyss. Like little snowflakes they dwindled down ever so gently. Some of them melted as they traversed the impenetrable darkness of my persistent sorrow, their light dying out before reaching me. The gods, as I'd call these forces of good, seemed so much smaller than the impressive forces of darkness and oppression that called their existence and importance into question. These forces of good seemed so much weaker in comparison because of how small and delicate they were (delicacies, after all, are eaten by bigger beings) but then I sensed their benevolent powers, though gentle, growing brighter with my recognition of them, and saw that they were imbued with the Ultimate Power, the power to create--the ability to create new worlds, to heal, to create new points of light in the ruins of the old world, new possibilities where before all had seemed lost and hopeless. They carried the power of love, the promise of life.

I'm writing this as a reminder to stay open and attuned to the delicate voices of the good in the world, because they're so easily drowned out by the noise and forgotten when a dark age passes over us.

The Ungoogleable Michaelangelo

www.voidandimagination.com