#recognizing our mother's fate as our own is the only way to change that fate for all of us

[pocket-size-cthulhu]

I think about this every time I watch pride and prejudice

[phoenixesse]

Here's my entry for the @sthbigbang! I had a super fun time writing this fic and collaborating with three incredible artists in the process! Please check out their work!

@pand1on >>> Here!

@thewiredgalaxy >>> Here!

@transzsonix >>> Here!

Summary:

As a child, Lancelot du Lac vies to cement himself. Spurred by his mother, he travels far for an unimaginable chance. However, instead of glory and reverence, Lancelot finds another boy, one who will surely change his fate in a way he cannot yet comprehend.

Many years later, in a vastly different time, Sonic the Hedgehog is caught with a whisper of nagging familiarity for something he's never experienced. All of his questions only lead to more confusion about a past he may or may not be connected to, and to a possible complex destiny he's not keen on carrying. But more importantly, he's not the only one curious, and going in too deep could unknowingly help or hinder the strange feelings he senses are also tied to his so-called rival, Shadow the Hedgehog.

[snippychicke]

For the Sake of a Smile (V.2) Chapter Twenty-One

Title: For the Sake of a Smile (Revised)

Overall Rating: Mature (18+)

Chapter Rating: M for Mature. We've begun the 18+ content

Trigger warnings: Nothing beyond the child abuse hinted in the series, though we do explore the consequences a bit more.

Main Pairing: Balam Shichiro/Reader

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen in your life. And the fact your coworker was a child. 

A child named Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but yet he smiled despite everything. It wasn’t long after meeting him that you decided you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a literal demon and signing your soul away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Masterlist | Ao3| Mairimashitai! Simps Discord

"I am the worst mother ever!" You bawled as you buried your face in Sullivan's shoulder as he held you close, doing his best to comfort you. "I can't believe I forgot Iruma's birthday!"

"You've been under a lot of stress, sweetie," Your adoptive father reassured, rubbing circles along your back. "I'm sure Iruma understands, you know how he is."

"That makes it worse," You cried. You knew Iruma would forgive you and shrug it off, if he hadn’t already. After all, Shichiro had said he hadn’t seemed too concerned about it, nor was he lying. 

But to you, his disregard was worse than him being upset. It was a stark reminder that until just a few years ago, Iruma never had his birthday celebrated. No one -- not even his own parents -- cared for him enough to take the time and celebrate his life..

It tore at your heart because you knew even if he didn't act like it, you were positive your lapse of memory had reminded him of those dark days. Did he think you were as careless as his biological parents? That now that your lives had improved, you didn't want to celebrate such things?

"Then let's make it up to our boy, hmm?" Sullivan offered, breaking through your thoughts as he tilted your chin to look at him and wipe your tears. "We’ll throw him a party for this year and all the birthdays I missed as well."

You nodded your head eagerly at the idea, the thought sounding perfect to you. 

Yes. You would make up for lost time; not just the last few weeks, but the ones you had missed as well, from birth until that fateful day you met him. To make sure Iruma knew exactly how loved and cherished he was.

--+--

You were quick to learn that Demonic Rites were the devilish version of a grand birthday party. While Opera and Sullivan took the lead coordinating the event since they were experts in the field, you helped as best you could such as choosing some of the dishes to be served and picking out the presents. Yet the greatest task you had was making sure Iruma was kept preoccupied as not to notice anything was amiss, which the entirety of the Misfit class was all too happy to assist with once you confided in them.

While traditionally Demonic Rites were saved for milestone birthdays - with much smaller events for the other years - Sullivan was all too happy to use the excuse that it was the first birthday he was able to celebrate with his grandson to excuse the celebration. He was apparently going all out from what you could gather, renting a whole other castle. 

Though as it turned out, that was tradition as well. Even demons believed in bad luck and holding a Rite in your own dwelling was a surefire way to invoke misfortune. It was also the reason for the costumes; in case Bad Luck spirits did find the revelers.  

Apparently, spirits couldn't curse you if they couldn't recognize you. To you, it didn’t make much sense, but you weren’t going to balk at tradition. At least, not this one. 

"Life is precious in the Netherworld," Shichiro explained over the phone the evening before the Rite. He had been a wealth of information about the traditions over the whirlwind of the week. "Our world is harsh, and once upon a time it was not uncommon for a demon to be killed before reaching adulthood. So we take every precaution to protect it, especially when we celebrate it.

"It's also a time where demons show their gratitude for their peers. After all, demons do not frequently bond the way humans do, and showing appreciation and kinship is usually very rare. The Misfit class are truly misfits in that regard…"

They certainly were. Not just for demons, but you had a feeling that even on earth they'd be an odd bunch. Yet you couldn't help but love all of them, hearing the debacle that occurred earlier that day as they fought over who was Iruma's friend and who was the boy's 'soulmate'.

You had to agree, Clara and Az seemed to be Iruma’s platonic (or so you assumed, at least) soulmates. Those three had a bond like no other that it was heartwarming, inspiring, and slightly terrifying when you thought of what those three could do if they wanted. 

But the entire class itself was bonded tighter than any friend group you had seen - let alone experienced. You were sure that those thirteen students could achieve anything if they set their mind to it. And somehow, Iruma was more-or-less the ringleader of their troupe.

"You're coming tomorrow, right?" You asked Shichiro, glancing at the costume that hung from your closet door. Both Sullivan and Opera had assisted with choosing it…

Well - they had done more than assist, to be honest. It was more like they had chosen it and you meekly agreed when you saw the looks on their faces. Not that it was something you hated or even disliked; it was beautiful, and something that had caught your eye right away.

Your only reservation was the fact it was so… decadent, even for a costume ball. It had such beautiful wispy fabric that flowed with the slightest breeze, the waist framed with a corset-vest that - thankfully - hadn't felt too uncomfortable when you tried it on, and a high neckline that would hide your lack of wings. 

And a crown of flowers and faux horns that completed the piece.

You worried it was too fancy, but assumed the two demons would know best. You also couldn’t help but wonder what Shichiro's reaction to it would be. After all, no matter what you wore -- a casual outfit or something more special -- his gaze always lingered enough to cause you to feel beautiful.

You wondered if you could actually make his jaw drop. 

"Nothing could make me miss it," Shichiro assured, his voice deep and smooth it made tingles race down your spine. "I'll be there, promise."

--+--

Sullivan and Opera had left early to finalize the preparations, leaving you to escort Iruma to the surprise party. Thankfully, Opera had hitched the Nightmares to one of the smaller carriages before leaving so you didn't ruin your dress. Especially knowing Deinos, who loved to be as impish as she could be.

The Nightmares knickered softly as you and Iruma exited the mansion, both dressed in your costumes. "To Lord Sullivan," You instructed the demonic-horses simply as you opened the carriage door. They snorted in understanding, making you smile as you patted Lampon's flank before boarding.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Iruma asked as the carriage began to move.

"It's a secret~" You answered in a singsong voice, smiling at his pout. "You'll love it though, I promise."

His pout didn't change, though he watched as you smoothed down your skirt, still unused to such rich material. "Well, you look beautiful, mom."

You blushed, "And you look very handsome, Iruma. Who would have thought we both could clean up so well, hmm?"

He laughed at that, and soon both of you were sharing memories of when you were less than presentable. Such as being covered in fish guts after being tripped - or when he came back from a forging trip, completely covered in mud and leaves. It had taken weeks to get every bit of mud and grime from the tiny shower afterwards, but you refused to spray him with the hose used to clean the floor of the workshop as many had recommended. Mainly because the water was ice cold and it was late autumn and winter had been attempting to set in.

The ride wasn't very long, and soon the carriage slowed to a stop. Opera opened the door before you could even think about it, holding a hand out to Iruma and then you once the boy was on the ground.

But before you could take a look around, a blindfold settled over your eyes. You jerked in surprise, fear and panic setting in as a pair of large hands settled on your shoulders. "Calm down, my dear," Sullivan reassured softly, thumbs rubbing calming circles into the bone of your shoulder. "We don't want to ruin the surprise."

"This is Iruma's Demonic Rite!" You protested as your adopted father led you (presumably) to where the Rite was to take place.

"Do you think I would celebrate my grandson's life, and not my daughter's?" Sullivan chuckled as a groan of old, heavy doors opening filled the air. A sound you were familiar with, given the Library's own doors perchance to complain every time they were opened.

But surely you weren't there. You heard hushed yet excited whispers, making your heart pound as Sullivan continued to guide you. He gently coaxed you up a couple of steps before turning you around and encouraging you to sit.

A moment later you heard Opera guide Iruma into a seat next to yours. There was a hushed countdown before the blindfold fell from your eyes, revealing the elaborately decorated ballroom with a large bonfire burning brightly in a pit at the center. The Misfits along with a few other Babyls students cheered your name along with Iruma's, making your heart catch in your throat.

"Mom?" Iruma asked softly as Sullivan and Opera joined in with the others as they began to dance-- an ancient dance, full of guttural words that truly made it seem like a demonic ritual.

"A Demonic Ritual is how they celebrate birthdays," You explained in a hush whisper, entranced by the performance. "We -- grandpa, Opera, and I -- planned on it being a secret, and to also make up for missing your actual birthday this year. I didn't think they'd plan on putting me in the spotlight too…"

Iruma's hand found yours, a smile on his face and that cheery light in his large blue eyes. "We've always celebrated our birthdays together. I was actually just telling Professor Balam that the other day…"

Oh. Oh. You caught sight of the tall broad demon standing apart, watching the revelers dance while also apparently taking a head count.

Those sneaky demons. Your heart grew warm at the realization that while you thought you were in on the surprise for Iruma, the three demons had been building a surprise for you as well.

As if he was aware of your gaze, Shichiro looked towards you, his expression shifting into a smile as he offered a small wave.

"It seems we are missing a guest," Opera said as he suddenly appeared on Iruma's other side. You tore your gaze away from Shichiro for a moment, and in a flash of light and smoke, a familiar white puffball appeared, looking disgruntled as always.

"EGGY SENSEI!" The Misfits cheered excitedly, and Kalego's reluctant presence seemed to be the last thing needed for the celebration to kick into full swing.

Over the last several months, you had slowly gotten used to the positive attention from the students as well as the teachers of Babyls. But that did little to prepare you for sitting in the spotlight as the guests symbolically gave part of their life to you as they poured out the burning water into the central bonfire. Or as each knelt one by one, offering their gifts with the heartfelt words: "Thank you for being born and living amongst us."

"I appreciate the love and kindness you give us, Mrs. Suzuki."

"I'm so happy I get to have two moms! My siblings are so jealous!"

"I know you're not my mother, but it really feels like you are sometimes."

"Your beauty is outstanding, my lady! May you continue to age so gracefully!"

"Thank you for caring so much."

"Thank you for bringing Iruma to us!"

"I appreciate your dedication to Babyls and its students," Kalego grumbled begrudgingly, offering a small delicate flower as a gift. (Where he got one considering his Summoned state, you weren't sure.) "You are one among few others whom I can tolerate."

"That's high praise coming from the professor," Iruma whispered as if you weren't already aware. Yet any reply died on your lips as Shichiro approached, quickly bowing low as his green feathered wings spread out wide to their full extent.

Yes, the others did the same as a sign of respect - but something seemed different….

Or maybe you were just head over heels for Shichiro that seeing him like that, knowing just how strong and powerful he was yet showing his weakest spot to you…

Your thoughts were interrupted as he looked up, his gaze focused on both you and Iruma as he spoke your names. "Thank you both for living in our world, and for being amongst us."

The sentiment had been expressed before, but by those oblivious to the reality of you and Iruma's true circumstances. But he knew. He knew it all. Your throat grew tight as he presented his gifts, hands briefly grazing yours as you accepted the box as your gazes locked.

The warmth, the sincerity, the love in his eyes meant the world to you. He meant the world to you.

You struggled with the urge to simply slide from your chair to your knees and pull him close for a kiss to reciprocate those tender emotions. Except you were still aware of everyone else watching, so you just caressed his hand deliberately with a smile hopefully conveying your feelings.

His eyes crinkled as he returned your smile, fingers lacing briefly before he pulled away and stood. Your eyes followed him as he stepped away.

Until Sullivan stepped up, his own eyes glittering knowingly. He didn't say a word, but knelt down as he took Iruma's hand as well as yours into his. His black wings opened, but instead of splaying them in a submissive gesture, he curled around the three of you.

"You both mean so much to me, you are truly my treasures," He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tightly. "I am sincerely thankful you both came into my life."

"Grandpa…"

"Dad…"

This time, you did leave your seat, having the same idea as Iruma as you wrapped your arms around both your father and son, and feeling their arms around you.

You were loved. Just as strongly as you loved them, they loved you.

--+--

The rest of the party was truly a party. You swore you had been to more festivals and parties in the last few months than before in your prior life.

But instead of standing on the outskirts of the party with Kalego and Balam as you typically ended up doing, you were drawn into the menagerie this time. You danced with several students as well as Opera, Sullivan, and then oddly Fluffego, when he was all but shoved in your arms by an impish Opera. He acted begrudgingly as you twirled him around, his small hands holding onto your fingers. You had your toes stepped on as well as stepped on a few yourself, but it was all brushed off with a laugh and even more dancing.

You hadn't had unbridled fun like this for such a long time. Your face hurt from smiling so widely, ribs aching from laughing.

But your favorite part was when large warm hands wrapped around your waist when you had slipped towards the table laden with food and drinks. "You look beautiful," Shichiro whispered as he held you tight around your midsection, making you smile. You had briefly danced with him, no more than thirty seconds, during one where you were constantly changing partners. Otherwise it seemed like the universe had conspired to keep you separated.

"I'm sure I would've been more lovely if my personal hairdresser had helped," You teased lightly as you glanced over the treats, taking your time to enjoy being held against him. "But I have a nagging suspicion he was in on the surprise."

"Iruma explained how you had always celebrated your birthday with him, and never told him when your actual birthday was," He admitted, chin resting atop your head despite the decorative horns. "We -- Lord Sullivan, Senpai, and myself-- figured it would be best to continue the tradition. Especially considering you would likely refuse to tell us once you knew what it may entail."

You bit your lip out of reflex to hide your smile. "You three really do know me well, don't you?" Because he was right; once learning of Demonic Rites, and knowing Sullivan's own tendencies to spoil you, you would've kept your lips sealed.

Which was related in a way to why you never told Iruma which day you were born. You hadn't wanted the boy to give up more of his hard earned money on your behalf. Sharing his birthday had been a bit of a compromise in a way, so you both were able to celebrate each other while you could make sure he didn't use a lot of his meager funds on you.

"Both you and Iruma are completely selfless," he answered, squeezing you tighter. "To the point I really wish you two would have a bit more of a sense of self-preservation."

"So when exactly is your birthday?" You asked after a moment, making him chuckle at your poor attempt at changing the topic.

He squeezed you tighter, adjusting to nuzzle your neck gently; considering his mask was still in place. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

You laughed at that, leaning your head back and finally looking up at him. "I love you, Shichiro, but I know better than that."

A flash of surprise crossed his face and his grip tightened to the point of nearly taking your breath away. "...do you, really?"

You realized your slip. You had admitted to yourself - to others - your feelings, but never to him. And, well - for good reason from what you understood about demon culture.

But… screw it.

"Yes," You answered, twining your hands with his. "I really do love you."

His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, the look in his eye changing slightly. He guided you to turn in his arms so you were face to face, still holding you tight against him. "Demons, especially those who are courting," He continued, his voice threatening to become even huskier, "don't say those words freely, or lightly."

You had gleaned as much from the books you had read. Some said it freely to those they were crushing on, and during little flings. But once a demon entered courtship, the word became much more meaningful to their Intended. Not unlike the term 'Aishitemasu' in Japanese. 

And yes, you two had just started courting - and from what you read, the courting period could last several months to years - but there was no denying how you felt. He had come to mean so much to you, and you could easily imagine him being in every part of your life. Not just the romantic moments, but the mundane parts of life; like doing dishes, or chores (if Opera ever allowed that to happen again).

That was one of your ambitions. To have him by your side for the rest of your life if possible. To build a life with him. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down so you could face him eye to eye as you stood on your tiptoes. "I love you, Balam Shichiro. With all my heart. And I can't imagine being with anyone else but you."

Before you could blink, his hands cupped your backside and he lifted you up, your body pressed against his as you fought the urge to wrap your legs around his hips, knowing in your current dress that would be very inappropriate.

Shichiro's eyes were desperate in more than one way as he searched yours, undoubtedly using his bloodline ability to find a hint of a lie. "One more time?"

You couldn't help but smile before you cupped his face in your hands, meeting his dark eyes and holding his intense gaze. "I love you, Shichiro. And I'll say it as many times as you want me to."

If you weren't in a room full of students - as well as your father and Opera, (and you supposed Kalego as well) - you would have happily removed his mask to kiss him properly, but you knew he was self conscious of his scar and refrained. That, and you had a very good idea his self control was on the verge of slipping; as was yours, to be honest. One kiss would lead to more as it always seemed to tend to, and you knew you wouldn't want to stop.

"I love you too," He finally admitted as your words sunk in. "So, so much." There was a hint of desperation to his voice, which paired with the way his grip on you was more than just supporting you against his frame, but feeling the plush curve of your butt.

There was no denying the thoughts running through your head, or the yearning that filled your body. You bit your lip as your fingers as well as your gaze traveled down his neck, feeling the strong cords of muscle beneath. He wasn't wearing the collar of feathers, but instead a dark, high collared top that felt like velvet beneath your fingers.

It would be so easy to push it away and press your lips to the sensitive skin there and listen to him hold back a whimper and groan as you tortured him. The thought of reducing him to a whimpering mess always tempted you, making you bite your lip as your mind drifted into the gutter.

Shichiro said your name quietly, making it sound like a plea as you continued to rub the velvet cloth trying to feel his muscular shoulders beneath as you thought.

You met his gaze, which felt as hot and heavy as the feeling settling in your lower gut. You knew what you wanted to do - what you thought he wanted to do too - but were uncertain how to proceed. Or rather, hesitant to take that next step. Was it being too bold?

Screw it. Fortune favored the bold, right? Be ambitious. Be selfish. 

"Why…don't we slip away somewhere more private?" You asked hesitantly, your attempt to be quiet making you sound a bit more sultry than intended.

His grip tightened even more, and you felt a hint of something hard press against your stomach. Yet instead of eagerly agreeing or even just carrying you away, (as you may have thought about more than once in previous daydreams) he protested - but with obvious reluctance. "It's your Rite, and…"

"Is there an unwritten rule that I have to stay here when I'd rather be alone with you?" You asked. Because devi, your mind was fully in the gutter and the thought of trying to pretend you were totally not thinking such things while you tried to mingle with everyone else sounded like torture.

And not the pleasant kind you hoped waited for you in the near future.

"Well, no," He admitted after a moment, his brow furrowed in confusion. "But would you really rather sneak away with me than stay and celebrate?"

Devi, how could a demon be so pure? "One hundred percent yes," You replied firmly before boldly adding on: "To the point I don't care where we go, as long as it's somewhere private and we won't be disturbed." Because hell or heaven help you if you couldn't at least get him half-undressed so you could explore his body with both your hands and lips. It was taking every bit of your self control as it was, with those thoughts running in your mind while being braced against him, the growing firmness pressing against you left little doubt he was having similar thoughts.

There was a moment of silence as his gaze became distant and unfocused, his cheeks turning bright red."Shichiro…?" You called softly after the moment stretched on. He snapped out of his thoughts, though his cheeks stained red even more.

"I, uh, well, I-I have been wondering if you would like to, um, come to my home? I've been working on my nest…."

Oh. Oh. That was much more than finding a closet or unoccupied room. It was your turn to blush, your heart racing in anticipation as well as more than a little bit of anxiety.

You wanted to - you really wanted to - but you couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. It had been such a long time - what felt like a lifetime to be honest - long before Iruma came into your life, since you had been with someone. And while kissing and petting had been second nature when it came to Shichiro….

Well, your daydreams hadn't quite prepared you for the real possibility.

Yet, again, you wanted to. And he was bound to be a more thoughtful lover than you had experienced before, demon or not. (Hell, he already was.)

After what felt like forever, you finally took the metaphorical step and nodded while biting your lip. "I-I would like that."

--+-- Su-Ki-Ma--+--

"They seriously don't think they're being subtle, right?" Soi sighed as he watched the two adults head towards the exit. Well, Balam walking somewhat stiffly with you cradled in his arms, your face red as a tomato but laughing.

Granted, his ability made disappearing easy, and also made it more noticeable when others tried to sneak off… but, still. That was about as obvious as anyone could be without making a loud announcement.

"Soi!" Leid jumped, startled by the demon's sudden presence. "You have got to stop doing that!"

"Are you talking about our two love bird teachers?" Elizabetta asked with a giggle, not as easily startled as their classmate. She also had noticed the pair, but was delighted by the turn of events. After all, their romance was something straight out of her own daydreams, making her hope even more that she would have a fairytale romance as well. "Aren't they adorable?"

"That's one word for it," Soi acknowledged, not as enamored with the situation as she was. "I might want to adjust my bet…"

"You and everyone else," Jazz agreed, summoned by the word 'bet'. He was already pulling out the notebook he was using to keep track of the massive pool going. "Lets see, are you wanting to change when you think their wedding day will be, or when Professor Balam will have mom knocked up?"

"Are you still taking bets?" Opera asked after overhearing the four students discuss their options. All four froze, glancing at the security demon and expecting a reaction much like Kalego's when he had found the betting during one of his lectures. (Granted, shortly after he had placed his own as well. He just didn't appreciate it being discussed during class.)

Instead, there was no anger behind Opera's placid expression, just simple curiosity.

"Er, yeah…." Jazz answered as Soi disappeared and both Elizabetta and Leid stepped away from the feline demon.

"Good. Both Lord Sullivan and myself would like to participate…"

[houseofpurplestars]

‘Houses Have Souls’

By Yazan Baroud

I lost my father on January 26, 2024. I know nothing about his fate.

After we returned to the house, following the first Israeli army invasion of our neighborhood (the town of Qarara, east of Khan Yunis) we found it in ruins, though the walls were still standing.

We were gone for nearly a month and a half, so we were grateful to be home, despite the damage. “Alhamdulilah,” thanks to God, we kept saying as our fate was still better than those who had lost everything.

But the army returned a few weeks later, so we had to escape once more. And we returned again, a few weeks later, before being forced to leave once more when the army returned.

This scene kept on repeating, month after month. Yet, the house remained standing. We truly felt that there was something special about our house, as it was the only one whose walls were largely intact, though most of the neighborhood, in fact, the town was destroyed from the air, or bulldozed from the ground.

A few weeks ago, as we enjoyed a rare moment of peace at our home, Israeli warplanes returned. They bombed a nearby home filled with people. We rushed to help, struggling to find anyone alive, as most of the residents, the majority of whom were women and children, were martyred.

An ambulance finally arrived. The driver told us that he would not be transporting martyrs, only wounded. He also said that there are new military orders for the town of Qarara to evacuate. It was the seventh time since the start of the war that such an order was issued.

So, we fled again. Two weeks after the last escape, a friend told me that the Israeli military had left Qarara, so I rushed home, knowing that the house would still be standing.

I wanted to be sure, so I walked all the way from central Gaza to the south. No cars were able to drive on the roads because the army destroyed all the streets.

Once I reached our old neighborhood, I got lost. I couldn’t recognize anything. The landscape had been altered. I walked in various directions until I settled on the place where our house should have been standing.

‘Where is the house,” I kept repeating aloud. Once I oriented myself with the changes resulting from the Israeli destruction of the area, I found the heap of rubble that is, or was, our home.

I recognized it because of a small area in the backyard where my father had planted Christmas trees. Though everything was destroyed, a small tree was still standing.

I thought of my father. I remember the day he planted the trees. I remember how excited he was as he followed their growth over time. I thought of my mother, of my siblings, of the happy life we once had, and the uncertain future ahead.

What saved me from my own thoughts was a verse from the Quran, blessing those

“Who say, when struck by a disaster, ‘Surely to Allah, we belong and to Him we will (all) return.’ They are the ones who will receive Allah’s blessings and mercy. And it is they who are (rightly) guided.”

As I began filming the destruction that has befallen our home, these poetic verses came to mind; so, without realizing it, I began reciting them out aloud:

Don’t Ask the house, who had dwelled here?

The door, alone, should tell you that the owners had departed.

Oh, you who are standing at the door, be gentle as you knock

For those who had once lived here are no more.

Be kind to your knocking hand,

For there shall be no answer. The beloved are gone.

Be tender for there are no loved ones in this house

Don’t injure your palm, for the injury of those who have already left is deep enough.

Oh, you who are knocking, if you only knew of our story

You would wonder: how did the door survive?

Please be kind to this house, and don’t awaken its pain

For homes, too, have souls, just like people.

[archivalofsins]

It's ultra funny because I try not to get too serious. However, I'm sure people believe I'm just rather opinionated and a downer, but I am trying to be better at letting stuff be. Because I recognize it's not that serious to people. However, I also understand that for some, it may be difficult to understand where people who consistently vote and want Amane innocent are coming from.

It isn't nice to have ones whole point boiled down to so you support cults. Yet, at the same time, I have to wonder if people realize how boiling it down to that sounds. Firstly, just because someone uses the buzzword cult to elicit a kneejerk response and delegitamize the religious beliefs of those different from them does not change that what the person they are referring to is actually practicing are their religious beliefs which I believe should generally be respected regardless of one's own personal feelings.

There are a lot of mainstream religions, if not all of them, that have been referred to as cults at one time or another. So, to me, this always comes off as someone genuinely asking,

"Oh, you support someone's right to follow and believe whatever religion they wish?" To which my response would be, "Yes, within reason."

Literally, the response to the previous statement should always be yes. Unless someone's beliefs are literally killing people, which is not a part of Amane's teachings or the rules she listed. Something illustrated well in Purge March, considering Amane punishes her mom for killing the cat, and Amane's mom punishes her for saving the cat.

One of the rules is basically do not interfere with the fate of other living things whether you are healing or killing and Amane breaks it while killing her mom by using the fact her mother broke this rule as an excuse to now punish her mom and relishes in doing so saying,

"You're sorry I don't care. Please go ahead and die already." - "Tis ordained, thou shall stay thine course, then perish."

One of the rules literally amounts to stay in your lane, and yet it was still interpreted as what exactly? Like how else was this interpreted, I'm not understanding. To me, this literally reads as "You will live your life and your life only then die". This is the rule I interpreted both Amane and her mom breaking by intervening with the life of the cat in different ways, which was not them "staying thine course". The life of the cat was neither theirs to save or end because its life is not their course.

Amane's belief amounts to setting boundaries in what she wishes to have done to her and around her. It is not her fault she's currently in an environment where she is consistently forced to engage with and be around people who do not respect her beliefs. Her whole point when boiled down amounts to going have Shidou stop doing this thing that makes me uncomfortable and is antithetical to my personal values in my vicinity.

Does Amane need to learn that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs and faith? Well, I could see how some could believe that, but personally, I don't think so. Because she literally came in here saying that if you do not judge her for her faith or what she has done, then she won't judge you. She has shown that she is capable of dealing with others living differently than she does, but she is more than willing to meet intolerance with intolerance.

Again, something that fits with that fourth rule, since we are not staying our course, I believe we are in a way giving Amane permission to leave hers and interfere with the courses of others. Just like she used the rule to excuse attacking her mother. For me seeing Amane's character be boiled down to her beliefs and her dedication to said beliefs ignores the fact that the people who fostered this environment of intolerance and hostility that she is reacting to was us through our previous verdict.

It's also just quite odd because, like, do people not understand what a slippery slope persecuting someone based on their beliefs alone is? Who decides what religions/beliefs are right and wrong? How do they judge which ones are wrong or right? What precedent does stating that judging someone off of that alone is okay set, and who can it harm/has harmed in the real world before?

Then even if I was afraid of Amane starting a cult when she literally only consistently speaks to one prisoner alone by choice, why would my adult response to that be to literally create a religious confrontation with a child? When I could simply be like, okay, those are your beliefs, and I accept them. However you have to do the same for others not everyone is going to agree with you and that's fine.

Not everyone follows your religious beliefs or subscribes to your teachings about medicine, and you can not force them to. Just as I can not force you to change your beliefs. Society should be built off of a mutual respect of people's cultures, religious practices, and boundaries. If one is unwilling to give that to someone else, they can not expect it to be given to them.

It's just that simple. In my opinion, and that's why even judging Amane for her beliefs alone wouldn't make me think she's guilty. Not because I support cults but simply because I'm not going to persecute someone solely due to the fact they have religious beliefs that differ from mine. Because I personally believe doing that is a slippery slope.

[catwithyellowwings]

Kelly Lord x OFC (Angela Higgins)

Please be gentle. English is not my native language. I'm still learning it, so there's probably a bunch of mistakes 🙈

Synth-pop sounds came from an old tape recorder. Humming familiar lines to herself, Angela dusted the bookshelves in her own small apartment near of London. Only recently, having moved out of her native nest, the girl was still trying to establish her own way of life. The strict father insisted that a woman must be able only to clean and cook. It was to this that he taught his daughter, whom he provided with her own home when she barely turned twenty. Her mother had not allowed him to do this before, but she died a few months ago. Since then, the relationship between daughter and father has become even cooler than before. Angela didn't take offense at her parent. The man always wanted to have a son, but fate decreed that his only child was a girl. Suddenly, in the middle of the chorus of another song, a loud doorbell rang. Turning off the music, Higgins threw a rag into a bucket and went to meet the guest.

"Angie, open up; it's me," was heard on the other side, and the girl quickly recognized a familiar voice. It was the middle of Albert Lord's sons. Once upon a time, her dad ran some kind of business with him. That's when the girl met three such different boys. While Lenny looked more like his father's right-hand man and Gene, due to his age, hung around with their mother Mint Ma more often, Kelly tried to somehow attract the attention of his parents to himself. But they almost always had no time for him.

"We haven't seen each other for a long time." Opening the door and letting the guest inside, Angela began a dialogue. "How are it doing in the family business?"

"As usual, complicated," shifting from one foot to the other, Kelly replied and ran his hand through hair. This made his dark blond curls even more disheveled. "Do you mind if I stay with you for a while?"

"Did you have a fight with your father again?" Realizing the most obvious of possible options, the girl asked. She received an indistinct nod and a nervous twitch of Lord's shoulder. "So be it; come in. You know, these doors are always open for you".

"You're the best, Angie." Perhaps for the first time in a few days, the guy threw a sincere smile and immediately went to the kitchen.

Taking the bottle of whiskey, he splashed a little into a couple of glasses and, before putting the bottle back in place, sipped a little from the bottle. After putting the glasses on the table, Kelly sat down on the chair closest to the window and, resting his elbows on the table-top, buried his head in his palms. Thoughts and emotions were raging inside him now; his active brain was diligently coming up with plans for subsequent actions, but nothing worthwhile came to him.

"Kel, tell me what's bothering you," Higgins gently insisted, placing her hands on his shoulders. At that moment, she felt her friend's muscles twitch for a second and immediately relax. "Don't accumulate negativity in yourself".

"No matter how hard I try to prove to my father that I am a worthy son of our family, it's never enough for him," Kelly muttered almost without changing his position. "He is not satisfied with my ideas, although he does not openly tell me this. I don't pretend to anything special, Angie," the guy abruptly raised his head to meet his friend's gaze. "After my father, Len will be the head of Lords, but I…"

"You want to be useful," Angie conjectured. "So that your family treats you as an equal".

"Of course, I'm not a genius like Gene, but I'm also useful to business. Everything I do, I do for my family. Why don't they notice it?"

"No matter how smart your parents are, Mint Ma and Albert are sometimes completely blind to some things," Angela sighed, continuing to unconsciously stretch Kelly's shoulders. "I believe you. Have you tried talking to them? Well, or at least with Mint Ma? I know she loves the three of you".

"My father told me not to talk bullshit and sent me to another case with Len," Lord finally answered, straightening up completely. "Mom just pointed me to the door with her head right after that. I didn't have time to answer them; they immediately switched to another conversation".

After this short confession, the guy drained his glass in one gulp, and Angie sat down in the chair next to him.

"Someday they'll understand what a good son and helper you are for the family," Higgins said, twirling the second glass in her hands. "And Lords are not used to hiding and being on the sidelines. Your family has always been and will always be at the center of events. I'm sure you'll be able to declare yourself, and your parents will understand what a treasure they've had in front of their noses all this time".

To hear such words for Kelly was painful but pleasant. Gradually, his nervous system calmed down, and anxiety also decreased, giving way to the typical behavior of the average Lord: flirting. He smiled at his friend again, but now without a shadow of sadness, to which he received a warm smile in response. For several years, it has been Angela who warms the guy on the coldest English nights. Therefore, it was to her that Kelly instinctively reached out, gently but confidently he placing his palm on Angie's cheek. Seeing how the friend's behavior was returning to normal, the girl leaned slightly on the touch, closing her eyes for a couple of moments. Just those seconds were enough for Lord to close the distance between them and press his lips against hers. Reflexively opening her eyes from such an action, Higgins began to answer, closing her eyes from pleasure. At first, the kiss was slow and seemingly innocent, but gradually the temperature in the room began to rise. Under the influence of the moment, they got up from chairs, wanting to snuggle up to their partner's body as soon as possible. Kelly's hands immediately grabbed Angela, helping her to sit on the table and at the same time almost spilling whiskey from the second glass. Taking advantage of a small hitch to restore breathing, the girl also drained the drink in one gulp, feeling how it inflames her even more. Removing the glass closer to the wall, Higgins this time reached out first for a kiss, which was met with the same fire.

"I need you," Lord confessed in a whisper, briefly tearing himself away from the desired lips. His hands were already habitually studying the body opposite, confidently climbing under a knit sweater. Under the soft fabric was almost as soft velvety skin, which was covered with goosebumps from his touching.

"I'm here, Kel, with you." She gently guided his head to her neck, where the guy left a few wet kisses, and then moved on to the barely exposed collarbones.

Further conversations were unnecessary. Pulling off her sweater, Angela, without looking, threw it on the windowsill and began to unbutton the buttons on Kelly's shirt. He had been paying attention to the exposed parts of her body all this time, forcing her to arch slightly with pleasure. Hands, lips, and tongues were used, and at some point even teeth. They both wanted the same thing and wanted to take full advantage of every minute. This wasn’t the first time when a couple of friends clearly crossed the friendly line, allowing themselves a little more than they should. However, they were completely satisfied with it. The bed (and sometimes another surface) did not become an obstacle to the continuation of the friendship between the middle Lord and Higgins. Perhaps it was this that brought them closer together even more. Now they could relieve stress with a friend, not only with words but also with deeds. Everyone had their advantages.

"You're so beautiful," gradually descending with kisses lower and lower, Kelly admired her from the bottom up. "So kind, helpful, smart…"

"Less talking, more fucking, Lord" The girl demanded impatiently. By that time, there were no thoughts in Kelly's head about the recent quarrel with his parents; everything was focused only on Angie, who looked very tempting now. "Let's leave all this for later. We have more important things to do".

"Not here," Kelly said and grinned contentedly. Quickly getting to his feet, he picked up Angie, allowing her to wrap her legs around his torso and arms around his neck. Such an action caused a giggle from Higgins, which was interrupted by a demanding kiss that forced her to moan, involuntarily snuggling closer. Almost without looking, when he reached the bedroom, Kelly laid Angela on the mattress and stopped for a few seconds to admire the picture that opened up in front of him.

"For today you are mine," Lord declared, looking at the desired girl with a misty gaze, "and you will like it".

[hc-geralt-23]

A Kingdom of our own

What would you do if you grew tired of being who you were? What would you do if you met someone who was just like you? I learned that our fate is our own just by meeting the one only man who makes me feel special. My day started as any other. I break fast with my family, and do what is required of me as a princess. But unlike any other day, i had a feeling that my life was about to change.

"Your father has requested your presence my lady." Say you maid. "Well lets not keep him waiting shall we." You replied.

On your way to your father's study you notice that lords and their sons from all the well known houses have arrived at the castle.

"Why are they here?" You ask. "I'm not sure my lady.But i'm sure your father might."the maid says.

As you arrive you see both your parents in what looks like an intense discussion.

"You wanted to see me father?" You ask gaining both of their attentions. "Yes. It seems as now would be a good time as any to let you find a suitable husband daughter. As your mother has so gracefully ask that you may choose your husband i have arranged for you to meet all of the eligible lords to choose from." He states. You know it was your duty but you also wish you didn't have to get married to a man you didn't know or love.

"Yes father. I will try my hardest to find said suitable husband." You tell them. "Good. Be ready by dinner as you will meet some of them then." He says. "Of course father."

After having that conversation you decide to take a walk around your gardens to come up with a way to slip away unnoticed so that you and your dragon, Miraxas, may go for your nightly ride.

When your nightly ride approaches you start to contemplate when you would find someone who had the same views as you. So cought up in your head, you don't notice the dragon that is headed your way. If not for Miraxas' quick reflexes you would have collided with it and it's rider.

You look around wondering what almost hit you. You look all around you until you spot it. A red dragon landed on the beach not far from where you hover. Not recognizing the dragon you decide to investigate.

Upon reaching where the dragon rest you notice it's not alone. Standing by the dragon is a tall man with long blonde hair talking to it. Upon further investigation you realise he speaks in the language of Valeria.

Landing your dragon mear feet from the red dragon has not only captured the dragon's attention but also that of it's rider.

"What may i ask is your business here? Why have you come?" You ask hopping you won't have to fight him or his dragon.

"I am simply just out for a night ride with my dragon. And you my Lady?" He asks.

"The same. If i'm not mistaken you are a Targaryen. Am i right?"

"Yes."

"Then which one are you? As i know King Viserys doesn't have a dragon unless he has claimed another without my knowledge."

"I am Daemon Targaryen, rider of Craxas."

"Then the beauty behind you must be Craxas then."

"Yes. He and i share quite the bond."

"As do i and Miraxas. She tends to be the only one to understand me."

"The same can be said here. If your dragon us Miraxas then i presume you would be Princess y/n right?"

"Yes."

You and Daemon continue to talk until just before sunrise. With so much in common you both just can't stop. But eventually eveything good must end at some point. When you arrive back home all you can think about is how Daemon is different then what people make him out to be. He's just a little misunderstood. But you understand him just fine and that is what makes talking to him so easy comepared to anyone else.

----------------------------------------------

You and Daemon continue to meet on that beach where you get to know one another better than anyone else. As time goes by you don't realize how spending so much time with him make you feel. Until one night, where you are listening to Daemon talk about his family when suddenly you just realized no one has spent this much time with you just getting to know the real you.

You don't realize that Daemon feels the same. Until one day, you arrive at your spot to Daemon pacing. Not knowing what's going on you are hesitated to land only to do it anyway.

"Daemon, are you alright?" You ask.

"No. You have done something that can't be undone." Unsure of what he means you grow scared of what you may have done and if he would leave.

"May i ask what it is i have done?" You ask in hopes of it not being a bad thing.

"You have bewitch me body and soul. You have taken up all of my thoughts both day and night. You have made me feel things i have never felt before. And i can't help but to want more."

Now understanding what he means you to confess.

"I feel the same Daemon. You are all i think about. I look forward to theses late night visits where we meet here. You are the first man to ever see me for me and i like it. Theses visits are my get away from the life i live in that castle and i want nothing more than to spend what time i have here with you."

Happy that you feel the same and that he doesn't have to keep talking about it he kisses you as soon as you Finnish speaking.

Unnoticed by both of you. You don't see the 3 other dragons approaching. 2 of them being your parents. The other is Princess Rhaynera.

"What do you think you are doing with my daughter?" Your father ask not knowing who he was talking to.

As you both break away he realize who stands before him. Who holds his daughter. This man is none other than the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen. A man he will not let sully his daughter as he has so many others.

"Come daughter we need to speak with you now." He commands.

Not wanting to leave Daemon you start to protest but hae will hear none of it.

"Now daughter. We have things of more importance to discuss."

You turn to Daemon and say goodbye. He watches as you leave not knowing when or if he would see you again.

"We should leave as well uncle."

Not knowing his niece was there startles him.

"How long have you known Rhaynera?" He asked her.

"A few weeks. Just enough time to convince father to marry us. I will not see you marry another." She tells him.

As Deamon returns to Kings Landing hoping to chage his brother's mind you and your family return to yours. Upon your return your parents escorts you to your father's counsel's chambers.

"You are not to have contact with that man again." You father declares.

"Why?"

"Because your are betrothed to Jason Lannister and i will not tolerate you sullying our name for that man."

"I will not marry a Lannister Father. I will not. You told me i got to choose my husband. Was that a lie?"

"You had that option but upon learning of your lat night escapades with a man like Daemon Targaryen, i have taken matters into my own hand and secured you a suitable husband. Now return to you chambers. You will be wed in a few months time."

Devastated by this new you rush to your room and jump face down on your bed. Your crying attracts the attention of you loyal maid. She rushes to your side in hopes to comm you down.

----------------------------------------------

Days went by after your parents found you and Daemon together. While Daemon pleaded whith his brother to reconsider his marriage to Rhaynera you were confined to your room on your own accord.

You refused to eat which had your mother worried but still she did nothing.

One night you received a letter your maid had secured without your parents knowledge. It was from Daemon ask to meet in your spot.

After reading the letter and with the help of your maid you left your room and flew to your spot. Once there you see Daemon.

Apon landing you notice the look on Daemon's face and knew that he to was put in a predicament similar to yours.

"What are we to do now? I cant marry that Lannister." You ask.

"We can escape this fate. All we have to do is leave. There is a place i know of. A castle were we can be ourselves. Where we can be free to choose and love they way we want all you have to do is say yes. Say yes and i will take you away from here. Away from a marriage we both don't want. Away from the people who want to tear us apart. Away where we can start our lives together. Have a family our own. What doy you say my love? Will you run away with me?"

"Yes. Let us escape. Let us live our lives the way we want. And never return until we have to."

With both in agreement you and Daemon take to the skys where you ride until everyone else is behind you. To a new life with the ones you love.

To a place only you and Daemon know. A place where you eventually raise 4 children. A place that you both have made your own. Where you live out the rest of your live without any complications. Without any retribution on either of your family's parts. Where you live is where you now lay in peace with the man who gave you everything you have ever wanted.

@selahstars

[dispactke]

(think this joker got read?)

Random (mixed-up & garbled) selections of my extractions from Marcus Aurelius, Meditations:

It’s not so much that I believe all or most expressed there within (though much of it is stunningly illuminating), but rather that either way it inspires reflection, a questioning of spiritual perception. (Of even Emperor Aurelius himself with blindness to his own imperialism). In the end he’s a tad fatigued, bitter. But shards of illumination lie here...

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius 

(Gregory Hays, University of Virginia, translation, Modern Library):

* To the world: Your harmony is mine. Whatever time you choose is the right time. Not late, not early. To nature: What the turn of your seasons brings me falls like ripe fruit. All things are born from you, exist in you, return to you.

* Whatever this is that I am, it is flesh and a little spirit and an intelligence. Throw away your books; stop letting yourself be distracted. That is not allowed. Instead, as if you were dying right now, despise your flesh. A mess of blood, pieces of bone, a woven tangle of nerves, veins, arteries. Consider what the spirit is: air, and never the same air, but vomited out and gulped in again every instant. Finally, the intelligence. Think of it this way: You are an old man. Stop allowing your mind to be a slave, to be jerked about by selfish impulses, to kick against fate and the present, and to mistrust the future.

* To pass through this brief life as nature demands. To give it up without complaint. Like an olive that ripens and falls. Praising its mother, thanking the tree it grew on.

* When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly. They are like this because they can’t tell good from evil. But I have seen the beauty of good, and the ugliness of evil, and have recognized that the wrongdoer has a nature related to my own―not of the same blood or birth, but the same mind, and possessing a share of the divine. And so none of them can hurt me. No one can implicate me in ugliness. Nor can I feel angry at my relative, or hate him. We were born to work together like feet, hands, and eyes, like the two rows of teeth, upper and lower. To obstruct each other is unnatural. To feel anger at someone, to turn your back on him: these are obstructions.

* A straightforward, honest person should be like someone who stinks: when you’re in the same room with him, you know it. But false straightforwardness is like a knife in the back. False friendship is the worst. Avoid it at all costs. If you’re honest and straightforward and mean well, it should show in your eyes. It should be unmistakable.

* You don’t have to turn this into something. It doesn’t have to upset you. Things can’t shape our decisions by themselves.

* What injures the hive injures the bee.

* Soon you’ll be ashes, or bones. A mere name, at most―and even that is just a sound, an echo. The things we want in life are empty, stale, and trivial. Dogs snarling at each other. Quarreling children―laughing and then bursting into tears a moment later. Trust, shame, justice, truth―“gone from the earth and only found in heaven.”

* If you want to talk about people, you need to look down on the earth from above. Herds, armies, farms; weddings, divorces, births, deaths; noisy courtrooms, desert places; all the foreign peoples; holidays, days of mourning, market days...all mixed together, a harmony of opposites.

* The world is maintained by change―in the elements and in the things they compose.

* Before long, nature, which controls it all, will alter everything you see and use it as material for something else―over and over again. So that the world is continually renewed.

* Wash yourself clean. With simplicity, with humility, with indifference to everything but right and wrong. Care for other human beings. Follow God.

* Love the discipline you know, and let it support you. Entrust everything willingly to the gods, and then make your way through life―no one’s master and no one’s slave.

* But death and life, success and failure, pain and pleasure, wealth and poverty, all these happen to good and bad alike, and they are neither noble nor shameful―and hence neither good nor bad.

* The speed with which all of them vanish―the objects in the world, and the memory of them in time. And the real nature of the things our senses experience, especially those that entice us with pleasure or frighten us with pain, or are loudly trumpeted by pride. To understand those things―how stupid, contemptible, grimy, decaying, and dead they are―that’s what our intellectual powers are for. And to understand what those people really amount to, whose opinions and voices constitute fame. And what dying is―and that if you look at it in the abstract and break down your imaginary ideas of it by logical analysis, you realize that it’s nothing but a process of nature, which only children can be afraid of. (And not only a process of nature but a necessary one.) And how man grasps God, with what part of himself he does so, and how that part is conditioned when he does.

* And above all, that it accepts death in a cheerful spirit, as nothing but the dissolution of the elements from which each living thing is composed. If it doesn’t hurt the individual elements to change continually into one another, why are people afraid of all of them changing and separating? It’s a natural thing.

* Keep your philosophy ready too―ready to understand heaven and earth. In everything you do, even the smallest thing, remember the chain that links them. Nothing earthly succeeds by ignoring heaven, nothing heavenly by ignoring the earth.

* Neither servility nor arrogance. Neither cringing nor disdain. Neither excuses nor evasions. 

* Why are you still here? Sensory objects are shifting and unstable; our senses dim and easily deceived; the soul itself a decoction of the blood; fame in a world like this is worthless. And so? Wait for it patiently―annihilation or metamorphosis.

* Death: something like birth, a natural mystery, elements that split and recombine. Not an embarrassing thing. Not an offense to reason, or our nature.

* Alexander the Great and his mule driver both died and the same thing happened to both. They were absorbed alike into the life force of the world, or dissolved alike into atoms.

* Something happens to you. Good. It was meant for you by nature, woven into the pattern from the beginning. Life is short. That’s all there is to say. Get what you can from the present―thoughtfully, justly. Unrestrained moderation.

* Don’t look down on death, but welcome it. It too is one of the things required by nature. Like youth and old age. Like growth and maturity. Like a new set of teeth, a beard, the first gray hair. Like sex and pregnancy and childbirth. Like all the other physical changes at each stage of life, our dissolution is no different.

* Character: dark, womanish, obstinate. Wolf, sheep, child, fool, cheat, buffoon, salesman, tyrant.

Alien: (n.) one who doesn’t know what the world contains. Or how it operates.

Fugitive: (n.) one who evades his obligations to others.

Blind: (adj.) one who keeps the eyes of his mind shut tight.

Poor: (adj.) requiring others; not having the necessities of life in one’s own possession.

Rebel: (n.) one who is rebellious, one who withdraws from the logos of Nature because he resents its workings. (It produced you; now it produces this.)

Schismatic: (n.) one who separates his own soul from others with the logos. They should be one.

* To watch the courses of the stars as if you revolved with them. To keep constantly in mind how the elements alter into one another. Thoughts like this wash off the mud of life below.

* Injustice is a kind of blasphemy. Nature designed rational beings for each other’s sake: to help―not harm―one another, as they deserve. To transgress its will, then, is to blaspheme against the oldest of the gods. And to lie is to blaspheme against it too. Because “nature” means the nature of that which is. And that which is and that which is the case are closely linked, so that nature is synonymous with Truth―the source of all true things.

* No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be good. Like gold or emerald or purple repeating to itself, “No matter what anyone says or does, my task is to be emerald, my color undiminished.”

* To see the nature of a sunbeam, look at light as it falls through a narrow opening into a dark room. It extends in a straight line, striking any solid object that stands in its way and blocks the space beyond it. There it remains―not vanishing, or falling away. That’s what the outpouring―the diffusion―of thought should be like: not emptied out, but extended. And not striking at obstacles with fury and violence, or falling away before them, but holding its ground and illuminating what receives it. What doesn’t transmit light creates its own darkness.

* Then what should we work for? Only this: proper understanding; unselfish action; truthful speech. A resolve to accept whatever happens as necessary and familiar, flowing like water from that same source and spring.

* The world as a living being―one nature, one soul. Keep that in mind. And how everything feeds into that single experience, moves with a single motion. And how everything helps produce everything else. Spun and woven together.

* What am I doing with my soul? Interrogate yourself, to find out what inhabits your so-called mind and what kind of soul you have now. A child’s soul, an adolescent’s, a woman’s? A tyrant’s soul? The soul of a predator―or its prey?

* Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

* Honor and revere the gods, treat human beings as they deserve, be tolerant with others and strict with yourself. Remember, nothing belongs to you but your flesh and blood―and nothing else is under your control.

* Everything is brought about by nature, not by anything beyond it, or within it, or apart from it.

* All underground for a long time now. And what harm does it do them? Or the others either―the ones whose names we don’t even know? The only thing that isn't worthless: to live this life out truthfully and rightly. And be patient with those who don’t.

* Evil: the same old thing. No matter what happens, keep this in mind: It’s the same old thing, from one end of the world to the other. It fills the history books, ancient and modern, and the cities, and the houses too. Nothing new at all. Familiar, transient.

* Forget the future. When and if it comes, you’ll have the same resources to draw on―the same logos.

* Think of yourself as dead. You have lived your life. Now take what’s left and live it properly.

* So you know how things stand. Now forget what they think of you. Be satisfied if you can live the rest of your life, however short, as your nature demands. Focus on that, and don’t let anything distract you. You’ve wandered all over and finally realized that you never found what you were after: how to live. Not in syllogisms, not in money, or fame, or self-indulgence. Nowhere. Then where is it to be found? In doing what human nature requires. How? Through first principles. Which should govern your intentions and your actions. What principles? Those to do with good and evil. That nothing is good except what leads to fairness, and self-control, and courage, and free will. And nothing bad except what does the opposite.

* Three relationships:

i. with the body you inhabit;

ii. with the divine, the cause of everything in all things;

iii. with the people around you.

* It’s quite possible to be a good man without anyone realizing it. Remember that. And this too: you don’t need much to live happily. And just because you’ve abandoned your hopes of becoming a great thinker or scientist, don’t give up on attaining freedom, achieving humility, serving others, obeying God.

* Fear of death is fear of what we may experience. Nothing at all, or something quite new. But if we experience nothing, we can experience nothing bad. And if our experience changes, then our existence will change with it―change, but not cease.

* It’s silly to try to escape other people’s faults. They are inescapable. Just try to escape your own.

* A given action that stops when it’s supposed to is none the worse for stopping. Nor the person engaged in it either. So too with the succession of actions we call “life.” If it ends when it’s supposed to, it’s none the worse for that. And the person who comes to the end of the line has no cause for complaint. The time and stopping point are set by nature—our own nature, in some cases (death from old age); or nature as a whole, whose parts, shifting and changing, constantly renew the world, and keep it on schedule.

* And further... That whatever happens has always happened, and always will, and is happening at this very moment, everywhere. Just like this. What links one human being to all humans: not blood, or birth, but mind.

[maguro13-2]

The Dark Beginnings RETOLD ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 0 Pt.8 ~

*Somewhere at Virginia (The Old Dominion)*

Liz : Here we are patty, this is where I grew up on.

Patty : Here in the state, so why do call ourselves Brooklyn devils or no?

Liz : Because, this is the only that state born on, because our parents didn't reach New York before we got there.

Patty : Actually, so...Where's still beginning to think about it, but how come we've been orphaned. So are we saying that we should take a train to get here, and there won't be a single problem.

Liz : Just because we a live in a country of freedom, doesn't mean this place would be the death when all of these wretched storms will wreck the place clean in a disaster caused by humanity's caused, I bet I won't have a surge in brain. But one question, whoever happens to this planet would be escalating the facts that who gives a crud about two being that desperately wanting to be heroes? Demon Weapons? We're just humans in the real world, not tools! Ever since the Ohkuboverse was completely erased from the Time Eater, we'd thought that still remember the same the one, but who are we that we are going to trust, Shinra? Anybody else? Why did I even think about it?

Patty : Sis, please. Think it over. If only you could understand the pleasures of living in the real world, we are not called brookyln devils, we are people that you, Elizabeth Thompson, would not recognize if that legacy was brought into protecting the world from what...Nothing? It's always about the lies from Mr. Kusakabe, We can't stop thinking that I'm the reincarnation of his deceased beloved who was killed by the hands of the Time Eater. Think of it.

"PATRICIA THOMPSON...CODENAME : PATTY"

Liz : You could worrying about the fate of others, Sis. If it means what it means of protecting of legacy, then I'm glad that we're able to step out of the inlfuence from the Devil Boy himself.

"ELIZABETH THOMPSON...CODENAME : Liz"

Liz : I guarantee you would do fine without the current situation, humans are eagerly to understand what lies within true beauty, oh the humanity.

Patty : Liz, Just because I wanted to see this beauty, doesn't mean I wanted to be left out alone. Ever since we were children, things just took a dark turn and I had no choice but to see the beauty instead living in the big city.

Liz : Could be best on your toes.

[Running Through the Plains by Takahito Eguchi]

Patty : So...Do you know what it's like to be living in the outskirts, a picture-esque place that would be a perfect home for us. I don't mind about you being a Virginia Girl, but that does that make me a Brooklyn girl.

Liz : Don't be such a thinker, Patricia. You and I understand each other, I thought that you would never move to Brookyln, even though that this is where I grew up, fresh green trees, green grass, open side places, this is definitely a place where I can grow up instead of the city, but don't sweat it, I won't be a long goner if the world must face out the natural disasters' caused by humanity's arrogance. Never to be surge about it.

Patty : Likely, some say the Time Eater's relative, Homura, questions all of humanity that their arrogant would make all natural disaster's caused by their own arrogance when factories began to make these natural disasters to destroy all of the world's beauty. I beg your pardon that you wanted to live in a place of your own, a place where we can find freedom in this land! this land will be ours!

Liz : So don't think about it, I hope the day we would discover anything from all means necessarily, I'm gonna be real cool with this one.

Patty : You gladly are, humans to think that changing the planet's climate could make the planet gone worse, or probably it was the gods that wanted to punish humans for the way to harm mother nature.

*vision shown*

Patty : In our future, our world looking like this would make all of things go disappear when the planet would might go in vain, and everything will be lost, just for the sake of humanity's significance as an arrogant species with the environmental problem.

*changes back to the two*

Liz : Ineed, sis. I promise that I would do something for myself, If I can fight as a hero, then a hero can carry a princess, all the way to the end! *carries Patty* Hang on tight sis! I'm the hero of your dreams, I'm gonna carry you all the way to the end!

*Liz starts running*

*liz and patty starts laughin in excitement*

"I never felt so alive, this is what I really want to see for myself..."

"I could never leave anyone by my side, I always have a clear feeling that I would find myself open to see the wonders of beauty, That's what I needed to feel free...No matter what dangers lies within us..."

"I'm sure that everythin will be okay from now on."

"I promise that I won't make mistake again."

Lost One : Mr. Lawrence, I found the perfect specimen...

Sammy Lawrence via Radio : Excellent, bring me that girl into Brooklyn, we need her for experimental procedures. Soon, everything in the night will be all according to plan...

*Meanwhile at PSO*

"FOREST AREA*

[Mother Earth of Dishonesty Pt.1 by Hideaki Kobayashi]

Seto : Well, here we are. The Forest Area.

Maka Albarn : Wow...This place is huge. It reminds that you want to gout on a picnic.

Solva : A picnic indeed of training, it's also stated that it all began here, this is where Pioneer 1 was established at this area right here, both the ship Pioneer 2 and the dome Pioneer 1 were in a huge contact between the two before a massive explosion caused the two pioneers to get in lost contact. And do you know who caused explosion, the lord of Dark himself and final boss of the game, Dark Falz.

Maka Albarn : Dark Falz? You mean the big guy that is responsible for the explosion? Dark Falz has been the final boss of the game of this transcended JRPG before he even appeared in the game.

Solva : I agree with that, it's not the one of the finest, but I heard that he was accidentally freed by one person that is smart to make his release, Rico Tyrell, Aka the girl with the Red Ring, she felt like a dummy after she found out that released Dark Falz after going through investigations, minor apologies about saying things to her.

Maka Albarn : So a girl name Rico accidentally freed Falz, but what happened to her?

Seto : We don't know what happened to her, but his daughter the principal can't sense she wasn't around here, so it's best that we may loose the tracks go on our business. I know it's hard for you to understand that, Mrs Albarn. But going along with you well, It's always dangerous to go alone, that's why this is an MMO, so we make sure that we need to understand what being a in game feels like, even if you are in a familiar setting with a JRPG from the 1980s.

Solva : Exactly, but getting addicted to this game is really not good for the health.

Maka Albarn :*sweatdrop icon* I would not be judge like if you would never say things like that.

Solva : Anyways, we'll just be right here, go check out if there's anyone that can help you out.

Maka Albarn : Okay. I'll go look around. I hope there should be good stuff around here.

*scene changes*

Maka Albarn : It's never been this quiet before. I thought being alone was a dangerous idea, so those two girls would understand my training of being a hero would make me fulfill it. If I could be the weakest of the weakest, then I have to prove then I am strong no matter what happens to me! I gotta be the perfect hero that I wanted to be! Demand the respect of a life time!

*Maka pulls out a thermos*

Maka Albarn : But first, I gotta try out most of my favorite drink of all, fresh green tea! Straight from my thermos.

Navi : Hey! Listen! Hey! Listen!

Maka Albarn : Get away, fairy! Not now!

Navi : Watch out! *Points to the Boomas*

*BOOMAS ROARING*

Maka Albarn : Woah!

[Mother Earth of Dishonesty Pt.2 by Hideaki Kobayashi]

Maka Albarn : Oh no! *Turns to see another Booma* Yikes! !?

*Notices she is surrounded by Boomas*

Maka Albarn : Uhhh, hey, guys! Nice day we're having? Settle down, I'm a friendly person, I don't mean the rappies no harm, oh wait a minute, they're right over there peacefully.

*Rappy noises*

Maka Albarn : Guys! A little help!

*DBZ SFX : Slashing*

*Booma dying noises*

*THUD*

Maka Albarn : Eh...Ah...? What amazing weapon, that cool incredible scythe. Where did you get that amazing weapon?

Ash : Hey, kid. You alright?

Maka Albarn : Yeah, I'm alright.

Ash : Good thing you're alright, so, a pair of two girls brought you to here to train yourself as a hero.

Maka Albarn : And you are...?

Ash : My name is Ash, Ash Canaan. I'm one of the Good guys. That one over there wielding the scythe is Kireek.

Maka Albarn : Kireek...

Ash : He's a Hucast, a Hunter android and he's also a Government Black Hound.

Maka Albarn : Black Hound? You mean he's some kind of lap dog of the Government!?

Ash : Something like that, he helps players to train their characters and level up! He's the one that will help you getting stronger.

Maka Albarn : A hucast, wielding a scythe.

[Echo Night - Beyond OST : Track 2]

*Kireek walks up to Maka*

Kireek : Are you the one they call you "Maka Albarn"?

Maka Albarn : Yes, that's me.

Kireek : I am Kireek, A HUcast android sent by the Hunters Guild, you must be the girl from the Real World. What is your purpose of being over here?

Maka Albarn : I...I come from a town called San Francisco and I only moved from Japan.

Kireek : I would never thought that a girl from the real world would be the first of our trainees. Ash, this is what those two girls from the Reaper's castle brought her to train me, right.

Ash : Sure!

Kireek : Maybe this will be a great opportunity for me, for you to test your self as of great opportunity of becoming the greatest hero that you ever lived, I will show you the ways of what it means to be hero. Here, take my scythe, Soul Eater. It is a partisan that has the ability kill your enemies in on strike, but it also has the power to drain people's life forces and even the heart and souls, which is your Health Points called HP.

Maka Albarn : Soul Eater...I recognized that name before. Where have I seen that name before? It could be someone else. Anyway, I want to test out that scythe of yours. Please, just let me borrow it. I promise that it won't be broken, cause if I do, I'll be very unpleased I don't know how to even wield a scythe.

Kireek :It takes time to practice any weapon tactics and battle techniques. You will begin to use it wisely and it could be a great use in battle. You might have some set of skills, I heard you do a lot of stuff when you were inspired others to be the hero that you are, who did you inspired to become a hero all by yourself?

Maka Albarn : I guess it was my thanks to Shinra for making me the hero that I am today.

Kireek : Shinra, what a clever name for someone that is still in the real world. I guess he owed you any favors for following his footsteps, but it is wisely to be very careful about risking your life to those you want to express your ways into following one's footsteps into the hero route. So, will be you hero enough to face the threat against the real world, are you willingly to save your world, your planet, and the galaxy?

Maka Albarn : Of course...I know I can do it.

*Kireek gives his scythe to Maka*

Maka Albarn : I may have been following my dreams of whether I can become everyone's hero or not, I must follow one's footsteps of being the hero there is! I just gotta do what I must gotta do! I can follow those footsteps, no matter what the dangers lies within us! Come on, Witch Hunter!

*Maka uses his signature move*

Maka Albarn : Here goes!

*DBZ SFX : Energy Blast+Loud Explosion*

Maka Albarn : Woah! That power! D...Did I win? What was this power! It feels like that the scythe just powered on it's own!

Kireek : That's what left from the Ohkuboverse. It seems you have regained it's power system.

Maka Albarn : Power system. Like this game has a power system that you guys have. I mean, what kind of Power system do you use?

Kireek : Photon. Photon Blast are basically the power system of this world, it programmed by Sonic Team that allow others to summon Photon deities on whether the gauge is full for energy. You two used the power system called Soul Resonance, a technique invented by the legendary Shinra himself.

Maka Albarn : Shinra created this technique? Wonder what was his deal on making this technique so rare, how did he invented it.

Ash : Maybe it's because of your heart, souls can be powered by hearts. They combine and share the two forces together, making an incredible superpower to exist. But I just realize that technique was originated 1000 years before Shinra's death was occured by the hands of the Time Eater.

Maka Albarn : *gasp*...!? The...The Time Eater?

Ash : Hey, Kid. Do you remember anything when the Ohkuboverse was destroyed by the Time-Traveling entity?

*images shows Maka's corpse in the hands of Soul Evans*

[The Sign by Kenichi Tokoi]

Maka Albarn : Did I die...? Did I really Die by the hands of that...girl?

Maka Albarn : Time Eater....Killed by it's hands? How can I remember something that...That I died at the end of my story in the future, but I'm still here from the real world. How did I ended in the real world while my story ended in an ill-fated way. Am I...Am I going to see the Time Eater seeing me in the real world like this! I will not be killed by it's hands again, but if that ever happens to me, I can't let things go into total downfall! I am going to make the real world a better place for all heroes to live! And for me! I am Maka Albarn, hero of the brighter future! I will take Shinra's place the the greatest hero the world has ever seen!

[I Am...The Story is Over by Yutaka Minobe]

Ash : Heh! You maybe you got courage after all! Your heart is the sidekick that what makes you bravery, although you could be valorous to be the strongest hero. This definitely suits well. [To Kireek] Hey, Kireek. You thinking what I'm thinking?

Seto : Maka. Are you ready to become like one?

Solva : Yeah! You could be a hero that could protect the inncoence, fighting crime, and of especially the forces of EVIL!

Seto : Didn't you get that reference already?

Solva : Sorry, I had a little worried that I should be stop watching TV all the time. Guess that settles it.

Seto : Come on, kid. There's plenty of stuff for more than just hero work, I got my master's servants on the line. Don't worry, I found a wireless communication device that will get us on track. This is should be very exciting to tell the world that this girl will become the hero of the future that the world has ever seen before. This should be the idea of making me Shinigami, the title of me becoming Japan's greatest Death God of all time! Who says the charlatan in sheep's clothing can be outsmart me the young woman with a plan? Alright, Kid, you have a lot to ways, let's get you in top shape.

*shake hands in agreement*

Maka Albarn : Make me there!

"I am going to show the world what a hero can shine brightly..."

"A Hero doesn't wear a cape is fine by me..."

"Guess Girls knows how to fight with a better weapon, eh?..."

"Well this is my first chance to fight it all back!"

"Now! Let the world shine on me!"

~ Event 7 : Hero's Training Exercise~

[notsosilentsister]

Spear

One thing I like a lot about Nicole Griffith's writing - amply evident too in Spear - is the care she takes with the setting (early medieval Wales, in this case). Spear has a fairly elaborate author's note, where Griffith explains her research, her sources, the choices she made about which elements to integrate, why all this care for verissimilitude is so important to her. I think it pays off, it grounds the story, it lends credibility, it promotes suspension of disbelief. I've never been one for the "throw everything at the wall and see what sticks"-approach to worldbuilding in fantasy; being too random about evoking different eras kills the unity of effect, kills the aesthetic illusion.

Of course research is only one part of the magic; you need to be able to weave it in with a light touch. In Spear, Griffith doesn't get too many pages to do it - it's a slim novella, and quite action-packed too (the fight scenes are another thing I like a lot about it; I have no way to judge their realism - just as I actually have not way to assess the realism about any other detail, to be honest - but there's a certain transparency, a readability, a clarity to them that I can't help but associate with the confidence of expertise.)

Things that work a bit less well for me in Spear are character development (I think her main character Peretur is quite likeable, but a bit static, too perfect from the start) and romance (not just fighting comes a bit too easily to Peretur; there's not much spark to generate with insta-love).

But I'm maybe just hard to please here, because Peretur is Griffith's version of Percival, and Percival is one of my favourites. There are just certain beats I'm looking forward too, and I'm bound to be a bit disappointed if they are missed. But of course you can never hit all the beats! There are so many versions of the story already, and all the fun is in mixing and matching, adding and subtracting. (Griffith's Peretur seems to me a lot less conflicted than Wolfram von Eschenbach's, for instance).

One change I do like is that Griffith's Peretur is a woman, and loves women; it does not have much of an impact on the basic shape of the story, but it adds an interesting wrinkle, because Peretur generally presents as male. Being recognized/allowing herself to be recognized as a woman functions as an ultimate sign of trust and connection in the narrative.

The basic shape of the story: a child with a birth secret, raised in the wilderness by an anxious mother, a fateful meeting with knights errant, inspiring a desire to become one of them, venturing out in the world, a battle with a red knight, taking his armor as spoils, the quest for the grail (not a Christian artifact here, but one of Celtic mythology - the Christian trappings are just obfuscation by Myrddin/Merlin, who is one of the villains in this version). In Eschenbach's version, there's another key characteristic of Percival: he's the pure fool. He acts to the best of his knowledge, and bungles, because through no fault of his own, due to his lack of socialization in the milieu he wants to join, his knowledge is woefully inadequate. He's innocently guilty and he's punished for that, harshly, intransparently, shamed, rejected, expelled, for reasons not quite explained, and spends the better part of Eschenbach's version sulking about the unfairness of it all. And then he somehow gets over it; and immediately, he's given a second chance. Truly a tale for our times, of cancel culture and redemption.

Griffith's Peretur in contrast never makes a misstep. She's a keen observer, preternaturally aware of her surroundings; she rarely needs people to spell things out for her, because she can read their feelings and immediate intentions, in the bend of their finger, in the scent from their skin, a gust of wind wafting over (to a degree; she's not quite sure why Arthur immediately takes against her, but she quickly guesses that he sees her as a threat, because his magic sword calls out for her, and as usually, she guesses correctly). Percival is clueless. No clue escapes Peretur. And it makes her less relatable. (But of course, in this version she's only half mortal after all - how could she be?)

Peretur too is innocently guilty - her actions harms others despite her best intentions - but much less is made of it. In her author's note, Griffith writes how she wanted to deviate from the stereotypical hero's journey, of conquest and dominance. She wanted a hero who can win without others having to lose. Hers is a story how power corrupts, and indeed, Peretur, magically powerful, effortlessly superior to any mortal challenger and almost as effortlessly, to immortal ones as well, proves immune. She doesn't want power and treasures, she only wants to serve justice, she only wants to belong.

She doesn't win, without others losing, though. (Arturus loses his shot at an heir, when Peretur deceives him about the grail; her mother loses her life, when Peretur reveals her hiding place; many lose their lives when Peretur kills them). The story doesn't ask us to dwell on it. But this is, where it gets interesting, for me.

[luxmaeastra]

//idk what verse this is? But grew up in the "real lands of Chalkydri?"//

Raelyn was five when she saw someone her age be dropped from the balcony. He'd stolen from the magistrate, a Valg desperate for more money and food.

No one cleaned the body for two weeks. They let the Wild Fae pick it apart. When she'd asked her Mama why she'd smiled down at her.

"Because that is the nature of things little one. Food is food."

--------

She knew many Valg children. Nazarius parents were addicted to the Wyrdflowers, lotus shaped flowers that grew in the cove. Their petals were dried and made into a powder distilled Wyrd magic that lasted hours from one single petal.

There was no tolerance level, it continued to be as potent as one's first time. A delicacy among the elite. She'd caught her father indulging it, speaking with Asteri and other Daglan nobles.

She hadn't recognized him in that moment - sharp angles and sharper smile. Was this the same male who read her bedtime stories and painted her nails?

But not all Valg were addicted to it. She'd met others, like Vincent whose parents didn't hesitate to hurt him for his transgressions. He told her horrible stories of parents killing children too powerful than them. Would hers do such a thing?

She didn't understand this world, didn't understand how to survive it. But she seemed to be the only one, the only one too soft hearted to want change.

Even little Melinöe thrived, she charmed and slept her way to safety. She always had a male on her arm, two others fighting for attention.

She tried to train, but sometimes that never felt enough. She didn't know what she was looking for. She didn't know why she kept looking at the manor home where Nox lived. Why she felt it all made some twisted sense when she saw him at parties and balls. He always spoke to her, always made sure she was doing alright.

She didn't know why her heart shattered when she saw the female on his arm. Beautiful, alluring and still kind. Why did she have to be fucking kind?

It was strange how things changed, how easily he had found himself able to stand up for his father since his mother was no longer there. That the male who found himself unable to achieve what he wanted, still thought he could rule this household as if it was his right. He lost that right when he began to play away, he lost that right when he tried taking what was his.

His eyes closed when her hand gently pressed against his cheek, the soothing sensation of someone who knew and understood. If his father had his way, he would have claimed her as his own and he dreaded to think what would have happened to her. He knew the fate of many who had come before he, those who had drew the old man’s attention.

“You’ve been staring at the palace for a while,” Valentina’s voice was soft, calm as she addressed her observation. “You’re thinking about her again.”

His lips quirked as he looked up at her, the quiet of the attic was one of the few places that the pair of them could talk so freely without the fear of being overheard - his siblings were too vain to dare be found in such a place.

“You talk as if I am the only one, did you see when we at the last event together.”

“I did, she was stunning.”

Nox laughed, leaning back as Valentina moved to sit opposite him. “I was half expecting you to trip over the hem of our dress when you were talking to her, I don’t think she noticed how smitten you were.”

He sighed though, looking back to somewhere which seemed so far away. “If we had something we could offer I would say we should storm those gates, but my father’s home…”

Valentina shook her head. “We’ll build a nice home, then we can consider freeing her.”

[that-is-just-so-typically-me]

I’m both devastated and grateful that I went through life-altering personal trauma during these last years that have been and still are excruciating for everyone. I’ve been trying to make my own sense about what is “changing” in America (rather, crescendoing - it’s all the next development stage of centuries of the same evil and social sickness), and maybe this is just something everyone eventually realizes, but I can’t stop seeing the scaled-down versions of these awful power struggles and strategies play out in the immediate world I see around me, and in my life. The same low hum of menace we all feel in our world now (though many heard it long before) I recognize, just in a higher octave, in the ways people have hurt me and in my own fears and uncertainty. When my past relationship ended and the love of my life left me for good after what was a truly personality-altering experience in our last try at a relationship, my fundamental understanding of how the world works and what I thought my life would be radically and rapidly changed. I never actually understood PTSD until I was diagnosed, which is sort of a no-brainer, but I just wasn’t expecting that an experience could actually make the world feel totally alien to me. To this day when I’m pondering the world and myself as I see them now, I’m still often surprised at how it feels like I accidentally slipped through to a mirror dimension where everything feels just *wrong*, like if I could just find a witch to help me break the curse, I’ll wake up back in the timeline I was meant to be in, as the person I was before, with the person I love and in a world that while hard and painful, doesn’t feel like I’m in the Other Mother’s world from Coraline. Intellectually I know that the past will never change, and that so much time has passed, my ex must be such a different person too, and I know that I must stay the course of moving (and I will, and I have hope that one day it won’t hurt anymore).

But the hardest part is the way I see the world now. I don’t know how someone people can be hurt so many times and still trust, still open their hearts. But with this, and facing it all while the world threatens to entirely destroy itself, I feel more isolated and alone than ever. I feel others feeling it to - the ones with loving partners, lots of stability in the home and work life, and strong innate abilities to feel loved by and connected to others, however, I know are doing better than the rest of us. It’s one of the most tragic realizations I’ve had - that power accrues power, the lack of it leads to more lack of it. Even with the benevolent and good power of love and connection: the less you have of it - the more difficult it is to enjoy it with others or even find others to share in it - the more likely it is to lose what you already have. But what all of this rambling (I’m so sorry - I can’t tease out the most sensible way to connect all of my points when I’m tired, which seems the only time I write anything in) is getting at is that this chronic loneliness I think leads naturally to lack of connection - one of the most aggressive infections that keeps wounds from healing (regardless of what caused the wound), on the personal and the social strata. Loneliness is like sugar feeding the bacteria of individualism… when you start to internalize that your best efforts (usually inadequate when hindered by the forces of exhaustion, poverty, mental illness, or powerful habits/loss of social skills formed by self-isolation in a pandemic or the loss of social skills) aren’t enough to make and sustain the connections that abate loneliness (and I don’t mean just romantically), you internalize that you are fated to do this alone. It robs you of your ability to identify with others - I don’t know how to explain this honestly, but I see it in so many people, including myself, and especially in the loneliest people I know. Reciprocity begins to feel like a myth, whether your self-narrative is that you don’t deserve it or people are inherently selfish and won’t give it to you, or both. The idea of people being capable of and wanting to connect with you, and you being capable of and wanting to connect with them, feels like a strange and distant dream. You become not a part of the world but something placed in or upon it. It’s the individual case of a much larger pattern that stacks and feeds back into itself and creates the battlefield that is the hyperindividualism of white, capitalist culture. The normalized sadism, the treatment of everyone from employees to even our most intimate loved ones as resources that must be cut off and ditched the moment they “underperform”, and the replacement person substituted in with almost no glances back at the people we replaced like commodities - some walking away with lessons, but in so many ways and after so many times (and I mean this far more in the context of workers in capitalism) typically stacked behind us in landfills.

It’s something that I’ve found to be helpful for coping in hard moments (especially at night when I have the fewest distractions and most time to ruminate) when I remind myself that I cannot, I must not, resign myself to the hopelessness that I will feel this alone always. My self-worth is still so low after a lifetime of negative experiences and poor mental health, but I’ve still been set back so many years even after a couple of years of recent healing. But I know if I subscribe to this worldview of an inherently unkind, “dog-eat-dog” world that will always leave me alone, that will always result in being left the ways in which I have been left before, I will cut off that feeling part of me, the part that connects me to humanity as a whole. I would simply rather not live than mutate into someone who becomes a perfect bullet for the arms pointed against the hope of a future for this world. If I really want to help fight for the world in which we survive this and maybe even come through knowing better and doing better, I have to keep fighting to keep myself whole. Internalizing that there is no hope for me to feel and give love again the way I can feel and give love so brilliantly, with my reckless, grinning, soft heart held in my open hands, would create those same patterns in my actions on the larger scale. Because these things scale up or down in perfect fractals - if I believe there is no love and trust to find around me, I will inevitably believe there is none to find *all* around me.

Despite the narrative the trauma keeps telling me, to protect me in a misguided way, one of my strongest traits is my big love. I just need to remind myself that despite what happened in the past, there are people even now waiting and wanting to hold that love safely, to value it, who want to give love back because they know their love is safe with me, too. My friends and family are just waiting for me to put down my shield and let myself be loved.

[cambriancrew]

Can't sleep tonight (brain is running in circles and our usual meditation techniques to turn it off aren't working) so I'm using some of that restless brain energy to spitball some ideas.

Could their government be some form of meritocracy or technocracy, as far as leadership goes? And then, kinda in line with the basic idea of value based on gifting, maybe embracing symbiosis and having a cultural repugnance towards hoarding? Maybe also with myths and legends and fables about how it's better to work together for common needs than to try and do everything yourself and keep all the results? So less about directly gifting things and more like "our community made this, so anyone in the community who needs it can have it" with a strong delineation between needs and wants? And, perhaps it might help with the storytelling, struggling to even have and recognize wants of your own when your culture teaches you that wanting more than you absolutely need is bad? Maybe with an exception for identity - "the only thing you can truly own is yourself"? Perhaps this is even reflected in their language, with no true ownership words - it's not "my shirt" it's "the shirt I'm wearing", and also it's not "your hard work" it's "the help you were able to give" - and also cultural allowances for the disabled, no one works for the right to have food, clothing, and shelter, the community is deemed a failure if not everyone in it can flourish in their own way. Maybe a strong cultural importance placed on flourishing (holidays where people show off what they can do?) and making sure every person has enough to not only survive, but to hone their talents. Maybe a strong cultural importance placed on talents and aptitudes , too.

-----

Also just gotta say, we love what we've heard of this world so far. We love the naming bit especially - we also have a culture in our paracosm where it's not only common, but expected, that when a person comes of age they change their name from what they were called as a child, to what they want to be called as an adult, where calling an adult by their child name can be really offensive if it's not done by a parent affectionately. We have a character from that culture who believes strongly in fate, that you are what you were born to be and it's stupid to try and change that, and therefore he kept his child name - Maker of Mirth - and never changed it, even though it really doesn't suit his personality at all. One of the reasons why, other characters learn over the course of the story, is because his mother named him that with hope that he would bring her joy, and she passed away when Mirth was only a few years old - and he's determined to make her smile at him from heaven. (Well. Sorta heaven... It's complicated. I would call it purgatory but there's no purging of anything, it's more like "Y'all wait here until the end of time - even though you're not really experiencing time normally as you're outside of the space-time continuum - and after that all things will go together to the next thing.")

We're always up for seeing worldbuilding, the more unique and offbeat the better, and helping come up with more ideas for it. We spend so much time on that with our own universes, it's nice to step into someone else's for a change of pace. :)

Kepekape, the home world of the Ktletaccete

(this was originally posted in a world building facebook group, but we think you might love reading about it here, too - and have feedback) OK, so. We're working on some world building that's a bit of a challenge for us.

It needs to fit some history we've already written into a series of nine novels. And it needs to serve the story we think we want to write.

We're going to ramble at you here and see if anyone likes our ideas, or has any suggestions or brainstorming to add. But also, we just want a place to write some of this down where someone can read it.

What we've got:

A fairly Earth-like world with life based on two kinds of XNA (it's not compatible with DNA, but works similarly to it). At some point in its past, there was alien contact with life that eventually evolved to be reasonably compatible with the indigenous life. So there are some surprising mixes of lifeforms.

There's been a lot of parallel evolution, so if humans were to visit, they'd see some understandable fundamentals, like vertebrates, arthropods, fish, etc.

The people are evolved from an amphibian-like ambush predator turned omnivorous. They still lay eggs and have a larval form (that looks a lot like a tadpole while still in the egg), and nymph form and adult forms after they hatch. When they reach adolescence, they go through a metamorphosis that is highly adaptable for their environment. To the point where they often look like multiple completely different species as adults.

Now that they've developed a civilization capable of creating a generational starship, their adolescent metamorphosis has become something they can sort of personally control, and neighboring children may grow up to be very different from each other. Personal special interests, economic status, gender roles, family dynamics, and all sorts of other factors of modern stress go into shaping their bodies. And medicine has reached a point where those that can afford it can purposefully induce desired traits.

Also, they're what we think of as hermaphroditic. They can change their functional sex at will, or sometimes the change is induced by stress. Occasionally, someone will end up with one set of dominant sex traits at adolescence and never change after that, even if they want to, but it's rare.

Their family structures are really different from humans, too. But we haven't quite nailed down HOW, yet. We just know that they're not what we think of as nuclear families. Child rearing is very different and fairly hands off. Adults make sure children are fed, but teaching and learning happens much more organically and communally. At least, for most of the countries on the planet. There are, of course, some outlying cultures that have different structures.

Something we want is no capitalism, in the strictest sense of the term, if we can get away with it. Basically, nothing like a stock market.

There are still big social and economic divides, including forms of exploitation. There is, after all, a global government at this point that has the power to focus a great deal of the planet's resources into making a truly huge spaceship for SOME reason. And not everyone is going to agree to that.

So, first big set of questions:

Do we go with some form of communism for the dominant economic structure?

Or is it really a dichotomy like that?

Could there be other forms of major economy besides these two axes that humans have been struggling with for the past couple hundred years?

There are fascism and dictatorship, of course, both of which can use either communism or capitalism for their economic structures. And certainly, there have been that kind of government on this planet, and likely still are. But we kind of want the dominant government to at least SEEM more egalitarian.

These people tend to highly value personal expression and the exploration of skills and arts, almost above all else. It's sort of an instinctual level drive. So whatever social structures they create, they'll at least cater to that drive, if not outright exploit it.

Cooperation and community are obviously important. Partly because we're limited enough that we can't imagine a starship building civilization without it. But also because we LIKE those traits.

One idea that comes to mind is to have an economy that is built on gifting. Where the person who gives the most away gets the most social power. This is not an original thought, though, and is based on what we learned about Pacific Northwest Indigenous cultures in college, so we're feeling a little cautious about that (both because we learned it from anthropologists not the people who've practiced it and because it's not our own culture).

Our goal is to show something that is different and alien SEEMING to most people who've grown up under capitalism or communism, to show that other models can be viable. But we're also very definitely showing that even when you're talking about aliens and other models of social structures, there can be major flaws such as exploitation and oppression.

But, we don't want to say, "See this idea here? This is worse than what we've got now."

We do think the rest of the series of novels does put it into a context that avoids that. But we're hesitant to use a model that's too close to something that's been oppressed here on Earth.

Anyway.

Maybe we could personalize it a bit more? Not gifts, so much as discoveries? The more that someone discovers, the more political, social, and economic power they're awarded?

So, you end up with a whole civilization of people who are trying to one up each other in their respective fields of study and craft.

Now.

Does this society need money?

It could certainly work by using something that is basically money. A note of genius, so to speak. But could it work without it?

Because money does seem to lend itself to stock markets, after all. And if we avoid money, then we avoid the stock market. Maybe we can lampshade it and just say there's no money, that's the way it is, and make it work regardless.

Though, we could just as easily say that there's money but no stock market.

Maybe the idea of a stock market is absolutely repugnant to these people. Basically, "You can't gamble with SCIENCE! And investing introduces bias!"

Hailing Scales. This implies their global government resembles the editorial review board of a scientific journal.

What think you?

[xximpressions]

Falling For Fairytales (12)

Anthony Bridgerton x black!reader

Series Summary: Taking a slight twist on your classic Cinderella story, you are the daughter of a Marquis who died when you were 18. Several years later, you are told by your stepmother that you must marry this season, or she will engage you to her elderly Uncle. Having no money of your own, you realize you are going to have to strategize if you are going to avoid such a fate. So it's a good thing you run into a Viscount who sees marriage as a battlefield.

Chapter Summary: You arrive at Aubrey Hall

Word Count: 1,736

Previous | Next

Bridgerton Masterlist

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You were up at dawn in order to be on time for your journey to Aubrey Hall. Since the trip would take most of the day, you knew you would have to get an early start if you wanted to arrive before nightfall.

With your trunks secured to the back of the carriage, you and your Aunt made your way to Bridgerton House first as was planned.

Upon arrival, you saw all the Bridgertons gathered outside standing in front of a slew of their own carriages. As they prepared to figure out who would sit where, a footman helped you step down and outside of your Aunt’s carriage so you could say good morning to everyone. Once they spotted you, all of Anthony’s family members said their greetings before Anthony himself made his way over to you. 

He had just opened his mouth to say something when you heard his mother cut in and say to him from a distance,

“You will be sitting in the first carriage, dearest!”

Since Lady Bridgerton’s tone gave the impression of a command rather than a suggestion, you understood that Anthony had just been about to ask to join you in Lady Danbury’s carriage. The disgruntled look that grew on his face as he learned that would not be the case only confirmed your suspicion.

Tickled at how miserable he instantly looked at such an idea, you tried to lift his spirits by saying, 

“It is only a half days journey, my Lord. We shall see each other again in no time.”

But your husband-to-be decided to come for your heart when he replied,

“An hour away from you is too long, let alone half of a whole day.”

A smile easily grew on your face at his words, but before you could respond, Daphne had made her way over to you both and said,

“Stop your whining, brother. Simon and I should love to keep your fianceé occupied on our way to Aubrey Hall.”

Looping her arm with yours, she turned to you while saying,

“Besides, we have much to catch up on.”

Recognizing the teasing, mischievous look in her eyes, your smile suddenly turned shy as you realized you were most likely going to be gossiping about your best friend’s brother for the majority of the trip.

And as you pulled off, that is exactly what happened.

With Simon and Lady Danbury catching up across the aisle, you and Daphne sat next to each other and conversed in hushed tones as she asked you question after question about you and Anthony.

While you answered each of her inquiries, Daphne began to comprehend the feelings you had for her brother. Since you spoke about him the way she spoke of the Duke, she knew that you would soon be looking at your relationship as a love match rather than as the marriage of convenience you told her it would be.

Either way, in all your conversations, time flew by. 

Before long, you were all pulling up to the decadent estate as the sun began to set. 

Resembling the country home you had grown up in, you immediately fell in love with the place as you took it all in. Becoming more impressed when you saw it from the inside, you heard Lady Bridgerton announce that dinner would be brought up to everyone’s rooms since no one felt like changing to come back down after such a long journey. 

As you were all wishing everyone a good night, you saw Anthony approaching you once more in order to say good night directly. Taking your hand so he could kiss it goodbye, you felt him slip something into your palm as he pulled his hand away.

Making a fist to hide whatever it was, you swiftly hid your hand behind your back as you thanked Lady Bridgerton for her hospitality before being escorted to your room.

Waiting till all the maids had left and you were settled in for the night, you eagerly opened your fist to reveal a folded piece of paper. 

Unfolding it, you saw what must be Anthony’s handwriting. Reading the first few lines, you finally understood that these were instructions. To be more specific, they were directions to the gazebo your fiancé had previously mentioned. 

Asking you to meet him at dawn the next day, Anthony made sure to detail exactly how to get there on his note. 

Excitement immediately filled you at the thought of having a secret rendezvous with your future husband. So much so, that you barely got a wink of sleep as you waited for dawn to approach. However, that did not stop you from energetically springing up the moment you saw the first rays of sunlight enter your window.

After dressing for the day, you peeked your head out of your bedroom door and looked both ways to ensure no one was coming. You then began to quickly, but quietly, follow the directions out of the house and to where you knew Anthony was waiting for you. 

Spotting the gazebo, you easily made your way up the few steps that led to the elevated platform where you saw the Viscount reflectively sitting on a bench. The reflective look left his eyes as they landed on your figure and he stood to welcome you.

Taking both your hands in his, you could not stop the delighted giggle that left your lips as you said to him in greeting,

“This is madness! Do you know what will happen if we are caught unchaperoned?”

A sly smile grew on Anthony’s face as he shrugged and replied,

“I suppose they would force us to marry.” Using one of your hands to guide you to the bench, he continued by saying, “But since we are already engaged, I do not foresee that being a problem.”

And prompted you both to sit down.

Settling into your seat, you gave a laugh at his logic before you turned to him and asked with false decorum,

“Then why have you summoned me here today, Lord Bridgerton?”

Absentmindedly fiddling with your fingers, he answered your question.

“Well, I did say I wanted to show you this structure.”

Agreeing, you began to look around as you replied, 

“Yes, because its location is somehow special,” You easily recalled.

As your eyes took in the sights around you, you curiously said, “But I still do not see what makes it stand out.”

Placing a hand on your cheek in order to guide your eyes back to his, Anthony whispered,

“It is special because it allows me to do this.”

Before he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours.

He only allowed his lips to linger for a moment before he slowly pulled away to gauge your reaction. 

When he saw that you could only look at him with wide eyes, he started to say with a touch of contrite humbleness,

“My apologies,” He began while looking at your entwined hands, “It is just, I have wanted to do that for a while now.”

You stared at him for a moment longer before you found the courage to timidly ask,

“Could…could you do it again?”

Feeling himself get hit with the sweet sensation of relief that you wanted this just as much as him, Anthony could only nod while giving you a dazzling smile as he leaned in once more and gave into your request. 

Making sure to guide you through it, you both felt consumed with excitement as his slow pecks turned into long kisses that filled you with a foreign sensation.

You do not know how much time passed before you both pulled your lips away while allowing your foreheads to remain pressed together.

Looking into his eyes, you quietly admitted with a note of embarrassment,

“That was the first kiss I have ever had.”

Smiling at your admission, Anthony decided to make one of his own as he said,

“That was the best kiss I have ever had.”

Seeing you joyfully light up at his declaration made Anthony melt and forced him to lean in once again. 

This time, he kissed you with a passion you did not even know existed. You became caught up in the feeling of his lips on yours before the feeling of sunlight beaming on your face brought you back to reality.

Pulling away to look at the position of the sun, you gasped when you saw how high it had risen and instantly stood up to frantically say,

“Anthony! The morning meal will be served soon!”

Seeing that you were right, your husband-to-be also rose from his seat and said,

“Follow the directions on the note back to the house. I will go another way.”

Nodding, you turned to follow his instructions when you felt his hand tug on your arm and turn you back around. As soon as you were facing him, you were immediately met with Anthony’s lips once more.

Pulling away, he pecked your lips one more time before saying,

“Till we meet again?”

This time, your nod was much more distracted as he finally allowed you to leave.

Making it to the dining table just in time to see everyone settling in, you felt yourself become anxious when your Aunt asked about your previous whereabouts while saying that she did not see you in your room on her way down. 

Since Anthony had apparently beaten you to the table, you made sure to avoid his gaze as you answered by saying,

“Oh, I was just exploring the grounds.”

Which was technically true. 

You complimented Lady Bridgerton on her wonderful home to make your statement more believable as you served yourself some tea.

While the hot liquid filled your cup, you heard Anthony casually say,

“I can give you a tour later on if you would like?”

As if he had not just finished kissing you senseless minutes before.

Not knowing how he was able to appear so calm, you had to find your cool before you responded.

“Yes, that would be lovely.”

Speaking up with a kind, knowing smile, Lady Bridgerton said, “I will accompany you both since we would not want to leave you lovebirds unchaperoned.”

Taking a discreet glance at Anthony, you smiled and thought with a hint of irony,

“No, we would definitely not want that.”

As you sipped your tea before engaging in the morning conversation. 

Previous | Next

A/N: The first kiss!!! Was it everything you hoped it would be???

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Taglist:

@drownmeoutatsea | @easilyobessedbutflighty | @thatlizardlady | @gxlden-honey | @faatxma | @ssuirattigass | @oldfruitloop

[falling-pages]

Bend the Knee: Kyoya x Reader

Thanks @ouranbound for the idea <3

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“I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present."

-

Sometimes Kyoya's betrothed needs help adjusting from their commoner life to one of splendor.

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Kyoya Ootori x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, arranged marriage, Commoner! Reader

Warnings: None

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“Quit.”

“What?”

“Quit. You complain about that job every night, so just resign.”

You sit up on the couch, gasping to even begin to make the young heir understand how preposterous his words were. He barely even noticed, just kept his eyes glued to his novel as you were having a crisis. Just another normal Tuesday in this household. “I can’t quit just like that, without two weeks’ notice.”

“The other employees did.”

“But I’m their best,” you scramble, “I can’t bail while they’re still looking for two more people.”

Kyoya scoffed, licking his fingertip and turning a page. “Is that how they treat their best? Overworked and underpaid? They don’t sound like very good bosses to me.”

“It’s not that, it’s…”

It was that. It was exactly that, which made his smug smile all the more frustrating, igniting that fire under your nails to just punch his lights out. But then you’d have to admit it’s bothering you, and he would win, and even though you were engaged to marry this man, you just couldn’t have that.

You ran your hands through your hair, dropping back down onto the couch. His office futon wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, perhaps to discourage relaxation during work hours, but it’s what you dealt with in order to spend time with him in the evenings, a change you would certainly implement once your name was on the deed and in the will--a revamp of his working space was imperative.

But you supposed you couldn’t complain. It was your little life together, where he manages a multi-billion dollar empire and you whine about your job, where he pretends to not pay attention while you spill your guts. What was the sense in commenting when he knew you wouldn’t take his advice?

“I’ve worked hard for this position,” you settle on, closing your eyes and letting your brain do the work. “I’ve climbed the ladder and gotten promotions and I used to feel so important, and it isn’t my dream job, sure, but I’ve enjoyed the process.”

“Then it’s time to move on to something different,” he suggests, and his tone is softer than usual, though still careful to sound detached. “You know I have more than enough money to provide for you and our family someday. Is that not enough?”

You open your eyes when the voice sounds closer, right above you, and you see him kneeling down beside you on the couch. You start to sit up, but he pushes you back down, helping you stretch out your spine, shake out the stresses in your limbs. And when he takes your hand, drawing his long fingers over the arch of your wrist and against your palm, you were startled to see him at eye-level.

Kyoya Ootori bent his knee to no one except you, and only once, when he slipped that pretty gold ring on your finger. But here where you lay, your faces were on the same level, and you felt like an equal.

“The world I come from isn’t black and white, Kyoya,” you say, as he strokes the back of your knuckles. Such tenderness was seldom seen from him, but you revel in it, grasp onto it with dirty fists and brazen recklessness. To have him so attentive to your needs and listening to you was rare. It was a privilege, a standard you would soon be held to, as well. “To be just...launched into fame because my dad won the lottery is hard, I still need to adjust. It can all be gone in a second, so I can’t just drop something. I can’t...sever the safety net. They need me to keep the place afloat, and even as tough as it has been, I can’t leave on such bad terms. They need me. Just for a little bit longer.”

He sighs your name like the afterthought of a prayer, settling his other hand beside you on the couch. His fingers dig into every indentation, as if joining your discovery of its stiff cushions. The sheen in his glasses signaled he’d look into it, but there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

He remained silent, odd for a man with all the answers, but he continued to look at you, not like he was trying to drill a hole through your head, but like you were a puzzle he was just beginning to figure out.

“Have I really been so absent, my love?” he whispered, raising his hand to your face. One finger stroked along your cheek, slowly, lulling you into peace. “I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present. Please, forgive me.”

All of the air was knocked out of your chest as his gentle words, so soft that you almost didn’t recognize him. When your parents betrothed you, and when you fell in love with him, agreed to marry him, even, you knew that he would always be an Ootori, with every string attached. You were ready for the challenge, ready to be with this man no matter what--but his sudden kindness was unexpected, the poetic words unfamiliar in your ears.

“Kyo, you think I wouldn’t forgive you?” you ask, taking off his glasses.

He let you, and when you set them on the nearby stand, his dark eyes glittered with something you had never seen before. Deeper than love, deeper than compassion, a feral protectiveness mixed with sadness skating across his face. It was so rare you saw him without this shield of his, you had almost forgotten how his eyes were like galaxies, like the murky night sky, expansive, swallowing everything in its path.

“If I had been suffering so, I wouldn’t forgive my partner had they not noticed,” he said.

“I’m not suffering...”

“Mmm-mm.” He shuttered your lips closed with his finger, and you couldn’t help but return the affection and press a kiss to it. He smiled, softly, and you thought about how long it had been since you had seen that smile, and how long it had been since he’s seen yours, too.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing my feelings,” he said, and when you snorted, he rolled his eyes and leaned away. “See, this is exactly why.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, giggling. The feeling was foreign in the pit of your chest, drumming near your spine. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, softly wiping where you had kissed him, a repetitive, soothing motion. “I’m not the best at expressing my feelings. I’ve been raised to think that if you throw money at something, it will go away. It’s a powerful position to hold, knowing you can change everyone’s fates on a whim, but…” he swallowed, breaking eye contact, and you felt his energy shift into something vulnerable. “But you changed that. You make me feel...you make me feel. And at first I didn’t like it. I loved you, but I didn’t like what you did to me. I didn’t like how you made my world shift off-balance, until I realized my world was no longer my family’s company or stocks or what other stiffs thought of me. It was you.”

You tried to lean up and kiss him, but he grabbed your hands and held them in his own. “Please, let me finish, I want...I want you to know. We’ve been betrothed for so long, but I’d like to think we were only truly engaged when I bowed to you with that ring.”

“Okay,” you breathed, shallowly, taking it in, squeezing his hands to help him along.

“Because that took everything in me,” he continued, and his voice shook, his hands shook, and all you wanted was to gather him in your arms and hold him till he relaxed. “I was raised as a superior, but I’m not. Not with you. You are my equal, and I love you, and there’s no future with us if I can’t look beyond my own problems to see yours.”

Your stomach quelled in light of his confession. The life of luxury and fame you had so recently come to know was a blur compared to his childhood swathed in privilege. Only six years ago you were waiting tables to save up for college when your dad bought a lottery ticket for the hell of it. Now you were attending charity balls and engaged to the son of the richest man on earth.

He took a shaky breath and kissed your forehead, seeming to only find the courage once his lips met your skin.

“I notice. I swear I do,” he said. “I tried to act disinterested when you vent to me because it was a protection, it was a way to stay cold, because that was all I ever saw from my mother and father. They were separate people who happened to live in the same house. That’s not us. I’m not my father. I swear I notice. I notice your tired eyes and your tense shoulders and your fake smile and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how, so I clam up. I shut down. And I’m sorry. I truly am, my darling. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

It was an absolute miracle that you could even breathe at the end of his speech, panting almost as heavily as he was. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, this time he didn’t object, but pulled you even closer, shrouding your body with his, his sharp scent overwhelming your senses, clouding the air around you, even when there was no distance between you. His mouth was hot with passion, yet reserved, and though it wasn’t the first time you kissed, it was the first time you thought he meant it when he told you he loved you.

“Kyoya, I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I have for so long. I wouldn’t have stayed with you if I didn’t, no matter what our parents said.” He laughed, nipping your bottom lip lightly. “And I don’t want you to change for me. You’re under so much pressure, I understand why you act like you do. But our home isn’t Wall Street. My heart isn’t some business bargaining chip. You don’t need to fight your nature to love me. It’s one and the same.” One of his tears splashes down onto your face. “So just see me. Love me. Choose to be vulnerable. I promise it won’t scare me off.”

“I will. I promise.”

He kissed you again, burning his brand against your tongue, hard like a handshake to know he meant it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, like you were breathing the same air, using the same lungs, the same heart beating in tandem.

When you let go, his forehead remained pressed against yours. His eyes were slightly open, watching you, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He was so soft, like this. You wanted to hold him forever.

“Come to bed with me,” you whisper, trailing a hand through his hair. “I just want to spend time with you.”

He kissed your forehead, rubbing his nose against yours in compliance. “I’ll spend all the time in the world with you, beloved,” he sighed, capturing your lips once more. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

-

Kofi

[relishingwriter]

Invisible Strings (Addison Montgomery x Reader)

If anyone told you were to be married to Addison Montgomery, you would have not believed them.

At first glance, she seemed like an insane woman – she cheated on her own husband and then came back because she was sorry. Ironically enough, the more you avoided Addison, the more fate brought you closer.

You were one of the best interns in the hospital, along with Cristina Yang and Meredith Grey, but unlike them you did not have a favorite interest: you were simply enticed by the miracles of the human life. Noticing your never-ending curiosity, Addison constantly chose you to stay under her service. After some time, she started frequenting your favorite spot at Discovery Park, your calming space. It was one of the few moments you were nothing but a common girl admiring nature.

You will never forget the day you saw her sitting on a bench, with a teal-colored shirt, a yogurt, and a wondering look in her face. You did not exchange words with each other that day, but if you bothered to look up from your reading, you would have realized the stolen glances from Addison to you. From that day on, Addison realized her infatuation for you, but it was only after the a patient's surgery she willingly recognized her feelings.

"So," Addison started, staring at you. You had just scrubbed in this 4-hours risky surgery, in which the mother and baby made it.

"So." You went in her direction with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood. Although no one died, you could feel the tension in the air. "Do you always come here?" You joked, making her chuckle.

"Does that line ever works for you?" Addison genuinely asked. She knew you were into women; the hospital staff never let anyone forget.

"Worked with one nurse," you shrugged and winked at her. "Hey, I am going to share the news with the patient's husband–" you stopped yourself for a second, having another thought. "thanks for choosing me to help you with this surgery. I know how important those cases are to you." You finished, this time putting your hand over her shoulder. The touch was simple and fast, but Addison couldn't help but feel shivers sent across her spine.

When you left, she sighed loudly. She was tired of having to pretend everything was okay, from the exhausting surgery cases to her relationship with Derek, every conversation with you highlighted her day. She felt thrilled every time she heard your voice, and she knew what this meant. She had a girl crush, and she would do anything in her power to get closer to you.

For you, the situation was simpler. You were aware of your sexuality, and you were surrounded by beautiful women in Seattle Grace, finding them attractive was just part of the job. It was not until a work trip with Addison that you developed a crush.

You were in the intern's room with your friends, hiding from the attendings. You all were, in all honesty, overwhelmed with the number of surgeries in the past 72 hours, and rambling to your friends was your favorite pastime.

"She is taking you to L.A?" Cristina asked, with her eyes popping out of her face.

 "That is like a rendevouz!" She teased while staring at you intensively, almost as if trying to get a reaction from you.

"I wish Alex would take me to L.A," Izzie replied with a dreamy look. You rolled her eyes at their fake commotion.

"We are just getting some eggs back. It is a boring work trip." You moved to your locker, grabbing some snacks. "I may also meet some of her doctor friends. They work at this private practice... maybe I'll even transfer," you joked, this time Cristina running her eyes at you and Izzie muffling a laugh.

"You wouldn't dare!" Meredith said, punching you with her elbow. You all laughed this time, knowing there was no other place where you would rather be.

The trip with Addison, however, was completely unusual. During the plane, Addison was overly nice, trying to learn more about you, and giving you space to get to know her, too. When you finally arrived and entered her rented red car, you saw her smile from ear to ear while silence surrounded the both of you. You debated if you should be the first to say something, opting to make it less awkward.

"I never seen you like this," you say, admiring the beach at your left.

"Like what?" she asked, quickly glancing you with an arched brow.

"So free. It's... Its a good look on you," you replied, this time looking at your hands. These words just felt out of your mouth, and you knew you had jeopardized your friendship. To Addie, that was the moment she ralized you saw her for who she was.

To your helpless self, every moment on that trip felt like a date. You stayed at a 4-stars hotel, you had dinner at a 4-stars restaurant, you met her friends, and you even helped her with others case. To you, that was the moment everything changed.

After returning to Seattle, Addison started being bolder. She would randomly compliment you, and even let you operate by yourself once. You had no idea why, but you chose not to complain either. The others just guessed that Addison was glad to have someone interested in obstetrics and gynecology.

It was not until she broke up with Derek and headed to Joe’s bar that you had it figure it out.

You spent the entire night watching her. Addison looked enchantingly sad, and she probably did not want to see you – you were best friends with Meredith, after all. If she noticed your heavy look on her, she made sure to hide it. You did not make a move until you saw her running into the bathroom crying, and you quickly chased after her.

"Hey," you said with a worried look on your face. "I know I am probably one of the last person you want to see, but I am here." Addison did not know if it was the drinking talking or the way you were looking at her – like she mattered – but the only thought in her head was how she had to have you. Without hesitating, she pulled you closer and kissed you.

It did not matter you were kissing in a bathroom.

It did not matter you were her intern.

You fastly wrapped your arms around her, deepening the kiss. You moaned as her thigh pressed against your core, and then she broked the kiss, biting your lower lip.

"Let's go to my hotel room," Addison said, lacing your hands with hers.

You had been going out for three months in pure secret. Apart from Joe and Cristina knowing, really, because hey, they know how to keep a secret. You were extremely careful in public, and the one time you were not, Derek caught you two.

It was past midnight, and none of your friends were around. You were on call, and she kissed you goodbye as she ran her fingers through your hair. It was also on this very passionate moment that the both of you heard something fall into the ground. When you turned your back, there was Sheppard with his mouth wide open and his pager on the floor.

"Should we run?" You whispered, alternating between looking at her and Derek.

"He will get over it," Addie shrugged, smiling at you.

As you finished breathing in and out, you looked at Meredith and Cristina, smiling. You had just delayed the marriage in a couple of minutes because of an anxiety attack.

"I am ready," you pronounced and they nodded. As they left, you waited about one minute to start walking down the aisle. When you arrived, you closed your eyes, holding back tears. She looked like the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Our time was wondrous," you whispered to her, holding back a laugh. "I want start my vows with a legend. The legend of an invisible red string, which ties two people together – those who are meant to meet, no matter how far apart they live or how different they lives are. And I, with my whole heart, believe that because of the odds of the universe, all along there was some string tying you to meet–" you began, and as you observed her smile and the admiring faces of the crowd, you knew you had found your new home.