#Eclipse shadow judgment

[yhebrew]

2024 Judgment: Dubai, Oman, Brazil (Darian Gap) - Timing, Location, Consecration

One-Third of Emirates Offered Up. One-Third of Brazil Remains. TIMING LOCATION CONSECRATION In Real Estate the phrase is LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION! In God ‘TIMING’ IS EVERYTHING! He will NOT be late! Leviticus 8:33  You are not to go out from the entrance to the tent of meeting for seven days, until the days of your consecration are over; since Adonai will be consecrating you for seven…

[naffeclipse]

Always A Hunter

Reader x Cryptid!Eclipse

Commission Info

I have another lovely little request from @counterbalance with the little hunter adjusting to life after F.E.I. and learning how to hunt on their own. There's a setback and discouragement, but it's nothing the cryptid boys can't handle. They will remind their heart what a great hunter they are despite all the changes and challenges.

———

A branch snaps under your foot. You wince as you fear the sound echoes through the dense trees. The forest thickly crowds around you, pressing close as if to suffocate you within its embrace. The shadows stretch blue and little starlight touches the moist earth. 

“Are you alright?” Moon rasps just behind you. His presence is a constant cool against your back, confirming without a word that he is still with you.

“I’m fine.” You glance around and then stare down at the detector. “Just afraid I’m spooking the hidebehind away, that’s all.”

The green dot only picks up the demonic cryptid within the animatronic vessel, not the monster you hunt this very night. You sigh and lower it back down. The screen flashes green. You stare out into the thick columns of tree trunks, wondering what may lurk behind each one.

Moon’s hand ghosts over up your arm. His fingertips press into the flesh along your shoulder and you close your eyes briefly as he tenderly works the muscle. You hadn’t noticed how tight it’s become since you stepped foot into the woods. 

“You’re anxious,” he says. His hand brushes over the nap of your neck to reach for your other side but you straighten and step forward.

“I’m fine.” You glance down at the detector and try to bite back a scowl. “The hideaway is notoriously difficult to document. Though it’s blamed for causing people to disappear in thickly wooded areas, like this, no one can properly describe it except for its hands which wrap around the tree, peeking out from behind—hence the name. It’s said to be animal-like with thick, dark fur on its arms like a sloth, with three long talons on its hand.”

You’re hoping Moon’s presence will cause it to show itself, struck by fear of the demonic cryptid. The unfortunate thought of your sweetie’s presence triggering the exact opposite effect brushes your brain before you shove it aside and stomp forward.

It’s here. It has to be here. You did your research. You collected the best evidence you could find through the internet. 

“It’s shy,” Moon says, then rumbles a deep laugh. “A coward.”

“We’ll take care of it.” You turn back briefly to smile at Moon but it doesn’t quite touch your eyes. Immediately, you feel a wave of cool judgment from the possessed animatronic.

Touching the strap which allows the crossbow to hang on your shoulder, you continue forward.

“No one has ever looked at it directly,” you continue, lowering your voice as you step over a log. In the corner of your vision, Moon steps over it with ease using his long, lanky limbs. “It conceals itself quickly behind anything it can find, including the observer. It takes its victims by surprise.”

“It must be weak.” Moon’s arms hang heavy by his sides as he reaches you. He stares down at you with wide, pale eyes. “We’ve been walking a long time.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” you huff, exasperated before inhaling deeply. “It’s here. I know it’s here.”

You make your way around a tree. A rustle of leaves sets your heart on edge. You stop, eyes darting to what may be movement, but you spy only a lone deer darting through the underbrush. You sink slightly where you stand.

Moon’s hand falls on your shoulder.

“I can’t sense anything unusual,” he murmurs. He stares down at you. The end of his patched nightcap falls over his shoulder, silent despite the bell at the very end. “You need to rest.”

Disappointment snakes through you, leaving you writhing where you stand as you stare down at the detector. It gives no sign of any other presence despite the one in front of you.

“It might not have a heart you can sense, like the vampires,” you say, but it doesn’t sound convincing even to you.

“Maybe,” Moon says softly. His fingers knead softly into the meat of your shoulder that he didn’t get yet. “Take a break. Your heart is fluttering like a bird.”

“Sweetie,” you sigh deeply and rub your temple, not helping your image, “I can’t. The hidebehind has been reported in this area. There was a news clipping about a man who went missing when he went out to cut some lumber, and stories are dating back twenty years ago of something hiding behind trees in this area.”

You step out from under Moon’s reach. You ignore his hand still outstretched, still wanting to touch you as you march forward into the darkness and tree-littered maze. 

Unless you missed something. How does F.E.I. do it? Without fail, they have sent you towards a cryptid using their findings and research. What if you don’t? What if you constantly chase hoaxes and rumors and find nothing but emptiness while real cryptids are out there, terrorizing and killing people? But you had the reports and the stories. You have a missing man. 

Your body heats up as your breath quickens. You squeeze the handle of the detector. Looking out between the trees, you hope against hope to see claws and a wicked creature lurking, ready to attack when you least expect it, but there is nothing. Only quiet shadows.

The first hunt without Vanessa and since leaving F.E.I. should go better than this. What are you doing wrong?

You hear a soft, thick sound of a footstep. Claws sinking into the earth. A presence most unholy. The coldness of a demonic cryptid’s presence washes over you. Before you can turn around, two pairs of arms surround you. 

A limb wraps over your shoulder and another clings to your chest. The lower pair hugs your waist, squeezing softly until you stop. Claws of scarlet and deep blue softly pet over your clothes, not severing one fiber despite the wicked edge that has cut through meat and bones.

“I’m fine, sweetie.” You pat at what you can reach. Their body is oozing and dark, as thick as shadows at midnight. Their large hands easily contain you. You try to wiggle free but they stay firm. 

“Take a break,” a voice, low and demonic, rumbles. You vibrate with the intensity of two voices speaking at once. “We can carry you back.”

“No,” you breathe. “The new snippets were credible. The man is missing and no one has found him yet. It’s been a week. Many locals testify of sensing something in the woods—but never seeing it, only fearing that it’s there, watching them.”

“If it’s here, you can hunt it tomorrow.” Long, inky fingertips roam over you, tracing your hip and caressing the length of your collarbone. “Heart, you’re exhausted.”

You blink. Slumping slightly, the arms support you. A cool breath yawns against the nap of your neck. The softest flick of a tongue swipes the sensitive skin there, and you close your eyes, brow furrowing.

“Maybe the local story was just sensationalized,” you admit. You deflate like a balloon left over from a children’s birthday party. “Maybe I just… got it wrong. Maybe I can’t be a cryptid hunter without F.E.I.—”

“Enough,” the growl at your back nearly makes you jump out of your skin. “That is not the truth.”

“Eclipse,” you say, perhaps in protest or argument, but it sounds tired. You are tired.

“Listen to us.” A dark mouth presses behind your ear, whispering into your hair. “You are a great cryptid hunter. F.E.I. has nothing to do with the aspects of your love for people and your will to face dangers. It’s alright, sweet heart.”

They lower their rumblings into a purr-like vibration that fills you to the brim, soothing the anxieties bouncing off of the inside of your skull.

“This is your first hunt starting anew. It’s alright.”

You lean back into their touch. Their teeth wetly touch the shell of your ear until you shiver. 

“It’s alright if you make a few mistakes.” A red claw softly pats your chest, right where your heart is tucked underneath your sternum. “That does not damper your abilities. That does not take away from who you are, little hunter.”

“Eclipse,” you say much softer. A thickness gathers in your throat. You can’t cry. Perhaps you were on the road for too long and maybe you did walk through the woods most of the night. The exhaustion is sinking into your bones, infecting your marrow. 

“You are strong. You are kind.” A kiss touches your temple—as much as a creature without lips or flesh can kiss you. “You will find a cryptid. Perhaps this one is a hoax or in hiding but regardless, you can keep searching tomorrow. It’s time to rest.”

“But if it’s here—” you start.

“You will find it tomorrow.” Eclipse gives firmly.

You stare out into the darkness. The trees thickly crowd one another, and though there are plenty of spaces for a hidebehind to, well, hide behind, you see nothing. Your detector doesn’t beep. Your skin doesn’t crawl with an unwelcome presence.

Maybe it is here, hiding, or maybe it’s not. It’s okay. You pull in a deep breath as a blue hand wraps around your waist and caresses your side. There’s tomorrow. One bad hunt isn’t the end of your career. 

The heaviness in your chest eases.

“Okay,” you finally give in. The air leaves your lungs and you feel lighter, catching the rich scent of the earth and the crispness of the green leaves caught in a late-night breeze. Your tongue fumbles for one moment, an old, crippling fear returning as you cling to the demonic cryptid hands holding you. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, heart?” A nuzzle burrows into the crook of your neck. You are gently moved as they press deeper against your throat, and a stray flick of a tongue finds the pulse in your neck.

“I thought I would be better at this by now.” You sigh deeply, staring down. “I thought I could do it without faltering.”

“Every winter has a spring,” they murmur gently against your jawline. “You will do your best. You will have mishaps and mistakes, and you will try again. That is the kind of human you are.”

You make a soft noise when they nuzzle against your shoulder, not unlike a cat wanting affection. You reach up a hand to find their flat, dark cheek. You slip your other fingers between the claws of a deep blue cryptid hand. A soft rumble follows, and you close your eyes.

“But we should keep looking,” you murmur. You’re both here. What if the hidebehind attacks someone when you decide to leave? 

In answer, Eclipse nuzzles deeper against you, roaming over the back of your neck and pressing their teeth gently against your skin. You shiver, feeling the graze of their horns and spikes but never once being cut by the sharp edges. Held gently in large, dangerous arms, you find yourself releasing the anxiety within you that whispers of tragedies and fears, of failures and blood. Tears gather behind your eyes.

One drop spills out of the corner of your eye. A scarlet claw catches it against your cheek, wiping it away delicately. 

“Okay,” you say finally. “Let’s go. But we will come back tomorrow.”

“Of course, little hunter.” Glinting teeth once more kiss your hair, clicking softly against a black hairpin you wear, before releasing you. “Give us a moment.”

Four arms slip away from you, reluctantly trialing over your wrists and hips before finally lifting away. You wait. Looking up between the brief breaks in the green canopy above, you stare at the night sky as stars twinkle with a promise. A familiar sound of footsteps, metallic but lighter, returns to your side. 

Moon’s pale eyes hold your gaze as he takes your hand within his.

“You take care of the scary things,” he reminds in a gentle rasp. 

You smile, almost about to cry. He tugs on you gently, and you follow him out of the forest.

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Silco's Eyes Analysis

The fact that silco's eyes are completely opposite is a genius part of his character design that further reflects the story of opposites theme. The white and blue of his right eye are opposite on the color wheel to the black and orange of his left eye. The way his right eye is so heavy lidded contrasts with the other eye, which is always wide open. 

The lack of a white sclera and the inability of it to blink gives the eye an inhuman, animalistic appearance. Unlike the other characters, he does not try to hide his montrous nature- he flaunts it for the world to see.  

The unblinking eye, which he chose as the symbol of his empire, historically represents wisdom, awareness, and truth. His eyes are opened to the need for change, on top of the corruption and suffering that Piltover/Vander are blind to. The eye is also a symbol of judgment, authority, omniscience, and surveillance. In the sense of government, the unblinking eye describes surveillance that is resiliant and does not fatigue, but is also unable to recognize or identify threats itself, like how Silco has difficulty knowing who to trust. Eyes may also have religious significance in Zaun, as we see the locals offering eyeballs to the image of a human/turtle creature. 

In act 1 especially, his eye strongly resembles a solar eclipse- a symbol of mystery and deception. Silco is a deceiver, but is ironically deceived himself, by himself. His vision is eclipsed by the shadow of his own trauma, drowning out the light necessary for perception, twisting his worldview. 

As you can see in the latter acts, his eye degrades over time as he loses focus on his vision for Zaun. He puts makeup around it to hide his monstrosity from his daughter and Piltover. 

[ser3nityst4r]

Leona’s Backstory

Leona was born with a rock in his heart, a heavy burden stemming not from birth defects or physical limitations, but from the simple fact that he was not the firstborn. Born second, he was destined for the role of the shadow, eternally eclipsed by his brother, Farena, the First Prince. 

The whispers of the palace servants followed him like a shroud: "The First Prince Farena is so cheerful...," they would sigh, "It's a pity his younger brother Prince Leona is so difficult..."

Leona wasn't difficult; he simply couldn't understand the world's obsession with firsts. Why was it that Farena, a prince who spent his days napping and lazing about, was showered with love and adoration while Leona, who toiled endlessly at his studies and honed his magic, was met with indifference?

The servants would continue, "And he uses magic that turns everything he touches into sand... How frightening!"

Leona would hear these whispers, and his heart would clench. He knew his magic was powerful, perhaps even more potent than Farena's, but his control over it was still fragile, prone to bursts of uncontrolled energy that manifested as sand. He hated the fear in their words, the judgment that clung to him like a shadow.

"If I were the First Prince," he would mutter to himself, "I'm sure they would say things like, 'The First Prince Leona is so prudent and can use such strong magic. He's completely different from his carefree younger brother.'"

But the reality was stark. He was the Second Prince, and the whispers followed him: "Everything the second prince does is sloppy, and the First Prince is left to clean up after him."

The chasm between them widened with each passing day. Leona witnessed the adoration Farena received during his formal introduction to the kingdom, a ceremony of pomp and celebration. He wasn't even invited. He watched from the shadows, his heart a burning ember.

"Leona, why did you skip the ceremony?" Farena asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Ceremony?" Leona retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, the doting parent party you hosted so you could show your son off? How rude of me. I ended up going back to sleep."

"Today's an important day for our people to see their future king," Farena said, his tone turning serious.

"It's a day to celebrate indeed," Leona sneered, his voice heavy with bitterness. "It's the day that their loathed second prince lost his right to the throne."

"Stop talking like that!" Farena snapped.

"People who were born first sure are special, huh?" Leona continued, his voice rising. "You can become king even though all you do is lie around and sleep all day."

"Leona... Even though you can't become king, you are very smart," Farena said, trying to soothe his brother's wounded pride. "There are so many things you can still do for this kingdom."

"I would have done what I could if this kingdom really needed someone smart," Leona said, his voice hollow.

"Leona, stop right there!" Farena protested, his voice rising. "Leona!"

The rock in Leona's heart grew heavier. He couldn't understand why he was born second, why he was destined to live in Farena's shadow. He had strived to be better, to perfect his magic, to prove his worth, but no matter what he did, his efforts seemed futile.

"Why did I have to go through all of that just because I was born a few years younger?" he cried out, his voice echoing in the empty corridors of the palace. "No matter how hard I studied, no matter how much I perfected my magic... From the day I was born until the day I die, my brother will always be looked up to, and I can never be king. Why was I born second? Why can I never become number one...? Why? Why? Why?!"

His voice cracked, his heart shattered. He slumped to the floor, tears streaming down his face.

"Life is unfair," he whispered, his voice lost in the vast emptiness of the palace, a testament to the unspoken pain of a second-born son, a shadow forever condemned to walk in the light of his brother.

[amirasainz]

Hello 👋. Just have to say I love the work that you put out. Doing an amazing job. Would you be able to write one if you are free about baby sainz feeling anxious in the paddock and starting you crying because it's too overwhelming.

OMG thank you so much. I included Daniel and Heidi in this story, I hope you won't mind.

Send me some requests and enjoy reading!

-XoXo

La princesa ansiosa

Amira’s life had been a tapestry of praise and confidence. Childhood memories painted in hues of joy—no problems with other children, no sibling squabbles. Everything was perfect. But then, one Instagram comment unraveled it all.

As a public figure, Amira had been photographed since an early age. Her acting career only intensified the spotlight. Tagged on social media, she reveled in positive comments about her personality and style—until now. The words “I don’t know why everyone likes her so much. She’s just a rich girl, has zero personality, is a bitch and has no talent” stared back at her.

At first she didn't know what she felt. She never read such mean comments about her before. However this one comment changed everything. Anxiety surged through her. A thousand eyes seemed to scrutinize her. The influencer’s comment weighed heavily, and perhaps it was her discomfort in that outfit or the fame that magnified it. Her heart raced, and a knot tightened in her stomach. In that moment, vulnerability eclipsed confidence, and Amira wondered how to mend the unraveling threads of her self-assurance.

To make herself calm down a bit, Amira wandered through the nearly empty Pit-Lane, her footsteps echoing against the cold walls. The drivers were preoccupied with media obligations, leaving the space eerily quiet. Perhaps a short walk would ease her restlessness.

Yet, as she moved, an unexpected weight settled upon her—a phantom gaze, multiplied a hundredfold. Fans, invisible but ever-present, bore down on her. Their imagined scrutiny made her skin crawl, and she stumbled, unable to focus on her surroundings. Passing a group of girls, their whispers intensified, their eyes dissecting her.

Overwhelmed, Amira fled. She ran, heedless of direction, until a secluded corner embraced her. There, her legs gave way, and tears blurred her vision. Everything crumbled—the façade of confidence, the armor of fame.

Unbeknownst to her, Heidi and Daniel witnessed her breakdown. They rushed to her side, enfolding her in a protective embrace. “Shhhh, what’s wrong, little kangaroo?”Daniel’s voice was gentle, coaxing. Amira couldn’t find words, but their presence offered solace. Together, they sat in the dark corner, away from the media and fans.

Amira’s vulnerability hung in the air, her tears a testament to the weight she carried. Daniel, ever the gentle soul, cradled her head against his chest, humming a soothing tune—the kind that transcends words. Heidi, with her heart aching, wrapped Amira in her jacket, pressing kisses to her cheeks and forehead. The trio formed an unspoken pact—a refuge against the world’s judgment.

Amira’s confession spilled forth: “They-they hate me. They say I’m just a rich girl. Why do they say that? I didn't do anything to them.”Daniel and Heidi exchanged confused glances until she revealed the Instagram comment—the venomous words that had pierced her armor. And then, the final blow: “And when I took a walk, they all stared at me.” She looked at the couple and asked n a quite voice: "Can you make them stop looking at me?"

Heidi’s silence spoke volumes. She couldn’t fix the world, but she could shield this girl, this fragile soul who deserved better. Her nod conveyed promise“I’ll protect you.”

Daniel’s voice, thick with emotion, sealed their pact. “Always, Roo.” His nickname for her held the weight of a thousand assurances. Together, they retreated to the shadows of the paddock, away from prying eyes. In that quiet corner, they forged a sanctuary—a place where judgment couldn’t reach and where Amira would always find solace.

[braineater444]

“To Be Better”

Big Brother!Yoshida x Gender Neutral Reader

(Tw: Sexual Abuse, Rape, Incest, Mild Smut, Mental Health, Suicidal Ideation)

A/N: I told myself I would finish this today and I did against my better judgment. This is not fully proofread and a bit different in comparison to other things I’ve written. Not heavy on the smut but definitely heavy. Idk. This isn’t good. Goodnight <3

Your older brother Yoshida is the brightest star to ever shine in your family. He got into all of the top universities (and every school he applied to for that matter) he’s smart, he’s attractive and everyone loves him to pieces, even those he’s only said one word to. He’s that type of guy. Too charismatic for his own good. A revolving door of people interested in being with him. Not a single flaw on his pretty skin.

Then, there’s you. You’re born second, but that doesn’t make you any where near close to second to him. Somehow, even with there being only two of you, you fall further down. You’re not placing in a race with him. You graduated two years after him, but no one from your extended family showed up like they did for him. You had a few friends, but were otherwise known as Hirofumi’s younger sibling. Your existence felt like an inconsequential blip when you were so eclipsed by him in every aspect of anything you did. He is the sun, but to say you’re the moon would be a lie.

So, it felt nice to graduate. To leave the school where every one knew you as a his shadow and the comparisons never ended. It felt nice to go to a community college where no one knew you and forge your own identity.

Even with him out of the house two years before, you still weren’t as free from him as you have been recently. You’re healing as of late. His winter break visit has come and gone and you’re getting better. This summer will be better. There’s just you and sure, you still live with your parents who always compared you to him, but now your lives have almost completely diverged. They have to, after all the work you’ve put in to getting better about being his shadow.

Of course, it’s not as simple as him having disappeared at university forver, though. It cant be your happily ever after. He comes home over his breaks and this one is no different.

The summer air is hot. It’s unpleasant and almost inescapable. There’s three popsicle sticks on your desk and the ceiling fan of your room is going as fast as it can go. It’s working desperately to cool you down with its gentle whirring, but still, you’re sticky with a light cast of sweat as you lay silently on your bed in wait.

You know he’s here. His voice flows proudly all through the house as he greets your parents and asks where you are and why you haven’t come to see him. You can hear him padding down the hall. Your brother has a distinct walk. It’s heavy and light all at once, like he’s waltzing his way to your door. A distinct feeling of dread punctuates each and every step.

As the door to your room swings open, you’re greeted by that same gut punch of a smile that you hadn’t been unfortunate enough to see since winter. This time it’ll be longer. The summer is too long.

“What?” It’s not really a question. Just something to make him go away.

“What?” He repeats back to you. “You’re not excited to see me?” Hirofumi… his voice is like silk; like he’s got it all figured out. It’s no wonder he’s got everyone fooled.

…

Usually it’s the summer heat that keeps you up all night, but tonight it’s him. You can’t see him, but you know he’s there and for that reason you haven’t left your room all day. His presence is an ache in your brain and the dryness of your mouth. This was supposed to be easier.

For the first time since he’s been back, you walk as quietly as possible out of your room praying that he isn’t awake. When you pass his room there’s no light coming from under the closed door and not a sound to be heard.

He’s asleep. Thank god.

You take a breath of relief and hurry yourself through the house, but as you round the corner into the kitchen the lights are on and he’s there. Closing the cabinets after putting up one last dish. And there it is. That sickening smile as he spots you.

“You didn’t eat dinner with us.”

You ignore him and pull open the refrigerator. All of the foods been neatly wrapped up and nicely stacked in small containers. You don’t check them to see what’s inside. Instead, you pick at a bunch of grapes and shovel them into your mouth one by one. There’s nothing to be said. You’re dealing with this well enough.

The grapes are ice cold and pop deliciously in your mouth. This is the best thing to happen to you all day. You needed this. You deserve this. Until, it’s interrupted by a large hand on your shoulder.

You stiffen.

“Don’t-” You turn and smack his hand off of your shoulder.

“Why are you acting like that?” He asks. He’s trapping you between his body and the ice cold inside of the refrigerator. He’s so close. Too close. You can smell him. He smells so fucking good. It’s sweet like fresh cut grass and natural like the wind traveling over the sea. It’s sickening. He’s making you nauseous by being in your space. A headache is forming. He shouldn’t be this close.

Your hand shoots out between the two of you and pushes at his chest before you even realize you’ve moved. You retract your hand like you were burned. “Move.” It’s quiet but stern. He doesn’t budge in the slightest. A look of confusion paints his face.

“What is your problem?” He steels himself.

For a second you almost believe him. You almost believe he’s truly lost and he doesn’t know why you’re acting like this towards him.

“You were fine when I came back over the break in winter.”

Right. Winter. You don’t even want to think about it.

He pulls you away from the refrigerator with a tight grip on your arm. You here it click closed and your brain stops working at the sound. He’s been treating you like this forever. Like a rag doll. For a second you let it happen. You have half a mind to let him do what he’s always done, but with the better half you pull away from him. His hand feels like it should’ve left burn marks in every spot he’d touched.

“Leave me alone.” You want to scream but it comes out as a hushed cry. Your nails dig into his forearm and he lets you go. You stumble back into the counter and you don’t even feel the pain that accompanies it.

“You don’t like me anymore?” His smile is confused. His eyebrows are furrowed. He pretends not to know what’s wrong.

…

You’re dealing with this the best way you know how.

He’s not here, in your room, but somehow he’s everywhere. His smell lingers in there air. Somehow it feels like his hand is still wrapped around your arms. You can’t get rid of him even in the quiet of your own room.

You lock the door. You unlock it. You lock it again.

You flick the light on. You flick it off. You flick it on again. You leave it off.

You start to try to lay back down, but you can’t bring yourself to touch your bed. Not with Hirofumi all over you.

The only solution is a shower.

The water burns just right against your thigh as you step in. You needed this. You weren’t ready to see him again.

Your body is trembling. How long have you been like that? Are there tears in your eye? You can feel your throat tightening up and wetness streaming down your face. Why are you crying? He didn’t do anything to you.

Maybe you shouldn’t be treating him like this. You liked him in the winter. You liked what happened then. You’re fooling yourself into thinking you’re the victim. After all these years, you’re not the victim.

Like a bullet in the chest it hits you all at once. So many years of him fight to the forefront of your thoughts.

Even as you scrub your skin you can feel his hands all over you. You’re sure the soap smells like him. You hold the soap to your nose and the thought goes away. It doesn’t smell like him.

You think about the winter. Your unlocked door. An invite for him to come in. You scrub at your skin.

You remember the heat of his body against yours. When you would beg him to stop. You scrub.

His hands gripping at your chest. Your quiet discomfort as you let him. The tears that rolled down your cheeks and the the way he kissed them away. You’ll clean him off of you even if your skin turns raw.

You can’t breathe. The tightness in your throat is getting worse. You’re sure you’re bawling. You want this to end. To go away. You need to go away.

Your knees buckles under you and when they crack against the shower floor the world becomes clear again. You can hear yourself sobbing. You can feel that the waters too hot against your skin. It’s too much.

A knock on the door comes as you rush to turn the water off.

“Are you okay?” Hirofumi’s voice lingers on the other side. You can smell him again. “Y/N~” He sings your name out with the beat of his second round of knocks at the door. “Do you want me to come in there?”

You’re still crying. You can’t catch your breathe. Your pleads for him not to come in are stuck in your throat.

You hear him say your name again. Then, the door starts to inch open. He can’t do this. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.

“GO AWAY!” You scream out before you knew you could speak again. The door clicks shut. Footsteps sound further and further until they disappear. Relief. You melt in to the wall of the tub. He’s gone.

There’s no telling how long you stayed there; a mess of sopping wet hair and skin, but you eventually pull yourself together and rush to get your pajamas on. The long pants. The long sleeves. They tug against your wet skin and make you sweat already.

You look in the mirror; into your bloodshot eyes.

You can never brush your teeth enough. It’s like his tongue is always in your mouth. The taste of his breath lingers. The inside of your mouth feels like his. Too much like his. Your lips are so chewed up trying escape the feeling, they crack even more when you brush your teeth. You brush until your gums bleed. Until your mouth feels as raw as your skin. Until the taste of iron replaces him. Until you can sleep at night. The taste of him will come back. It always does.

…

Your parents don’t sit down for breakfast unless he’s around. Your mom doesn’t cook unless it’s for him. You don’t exist outside of him.

You push your food around your plate and tune them out. He’s sitting across from you and you’re not looking up unless you have to. You’re not hungry this morning. You don’t want to be here.

“Why don’t you want to learn how yo drive?”

The question sounds pointed at you. You stop, to listen again.

“You know…” You stop hearing his voice, but you’re sure he’s still talking. You keep looking down at your plate. “…really, I’m your big brother I should.” You can hear that fucking smile in his voice.

“That would be great, wouldn’t it, honey?” Your moms hand rubs soothingly over your thigh. You almost get the urge to cry again, but you can’t. “Hirofumi could be a great person to teach you?”

You look at her, confused.

“He can teach you how to drive. You should really learn. And maybe look at his new car.”

“It’s really nice.” Your dad cuts in.

He has a new car.

“It’d be great. To make new memories and stuff, right?” Hirofumi looks so endearing. The sun coming in through the window surrounds his body in soft morning light. Of course, he’s glowing. He casts a shadow over your breakfast plate.

“I’ll learn to drive on my own time.” You stuff your mouth with eggs.

Your mother insists that you let Hirofumi teach you. She’s like that. He’s her favorite. He does everything right the first time.

You leave breakfast early and leave them to their golden child.

You lock your door. You unlock it. You lock it again. You check the handle. It’s locked.

Your pajamas are suffocating you. It’s only going to get hotter from this point in the day, but you can’t change. You turn your ceiling fan on. You can breath.

You open a book and try to forget.

By the afternoon, the house falls silent. You leave your room and check all around the place. For each room you flick the lights on and of again and again. Not a soul. Tension relieves itself in places you didn’t know you had it. After checking all the locks, you sprawl out on the couch. Let them be gone forever.

…

You’re burning up. You’re sweating. You have a headache. The tv is on, but there’s some other noise. The couch suddenly feels too small.

“Do you want to go in my room?” Hands tap your cheeks to wake you. Your eyes struggle to open. Your mouth doesn’t move. Again. “Do you want to go in my room?” His face is far above yours, there’s brightness in his eyes, but they remain pitch black. His bangs are still too low. “It’s cooler in there. You’re sweating a lot. C’mon.”

He grabs you. Hoists you in to his arms and you latch on to him. You let him carry you. He loves to carry you. You’re so easy. So so easy. Why are you letting him do this.

“Hiro-”

Nothing.

“Hirofumi…”

“Hm?”

“Please take me to my room. I don’t want to do this.”

“It was fine a couple moths ago. Wasn’t it?”

You shake your head. You never liked it. That time you thought if you tried to enjoy it you’d hurt less. If you finally smiled and gave him what he wanted willingly it wouldn’t be as bad as all of the times before. It worked in the moment, but like every time before it came back to haunt you. You can’t do it again, but you don’t argue.

You let him lay you down on his bed. You go limp. You can’t run. You’ve never been able to stop this.

You think you say his name out loud, but if you do, he doesn’t answer. You ask where your mom’s at. Nothing. Your pajama pants are off. You hear yourself say stop. His hand smooths over your underwear.

There’s a moment of darkness and suddenly you’re both naked. You’re pushing at his muscles. His mouth is leaving wet kisses down your body. You swear you’re begging him to end this. There’s something of a cry for help in there. He can’t do this again.

“You wanted this last time, remember?” He breathes over your sex and drags his tongue across. Your body reacts as if you were struck by electricity, but you feel nothing. There’s just a strange wetness between your legs.

He can’t seem to remember the times before when you said no. All the times that came before the winter. When his hands traveled down in to your uniform. When you told him he didn’t need to kiss you before his graduation speech for good luck. When you said you didn’t want to know what he’d taste like. There were so many rejections, but he just can’t be a good brother.

He can only remember when you begged for him at the park last winter. When you let him climb in your bed and rub himself against the curve of your ass. When you licked his semen off the palm of your hand and kissed him hungrily. He can only remember last winter.

You were so scared. You thought you could face your demons head on.

He’s inside you. He’s so deep inside you. His tongue lick’s at the salty tears and sweat on your cheeks. His lips interlock with yours and you don’t kiss back. Not this time. You feel nothing and everything. Every vein dragging in and out of you. Every fingernail digging into your waist. The muscle in his chest where your hands aren’t pushing any more. Every breath he steals from you. But you don’t feel it.

You’re trapped eye to eye under him. His bedside lamp is dim, but you can see his face so close to yours. He’s tearing you apart from the inside. You have to be dying. You want to die.

“Hiro… I’m going to kill myself.” You manage between tears, broken moans and unstable breaths. “Please stop. I’m going to die. I’m going to kill myself.” It all pours out of your mouth like a flood.

“No. I’ll take care of you,” He says as he lays kisses along your throat.

“No. I’ll die.” You sniffle. “I’ll just die. I promise. I can’t do this. Please stop.” You might be screaming. There’s no way for you to tell. He’s slamming in to you harder. You can see it. You can’t feel it, but you know it hurts. Then it all stops. You can’t see anymore. There’s nothing. Again.

He’s there. Laying on your stomach when you come to. You feel sticky. Like your body’s covered in slime. Gross. Like you’re wrapped in spiderwebs. Like your brother’s been inside of you. Like this has been going on for as long as you can remember.

You try to push him off of you. You’re still naked. You don’t want your pajamas back anyway. You just want the shower. You push at his head and try to slide your body from under him. His scalp is wet with sweat.

You just want to shower. He won’t budge. His smell is seeping deeper into your skin by the second.

He turns to face you.

“Mom and dad are out all night. We have time.”

You give up. You’ll never be clean again.

[hoodreader]

Sept. 11, 2024. Moon in Capricorn

general transit reading. wc. 1.1k~

keywords. the tower/the world/judgment (tarot cards), destruction, volcanos, moving, change, patience, fate, trust in the universe’s direction

the moon entered capricorn on september 11th, 2024 @ 10:38 PM EST.

posted late! whoops! moon returns to an uncomfortable sign, this time being in detriment. this causes blockages in emotional flow, as saturn’s nature of being cold and dry contrasts the wet and cold nature of the moon. think deserts (saturn) & oceans (moon).

the moon dislikes being in this sign of disconnection because the moon is very attached. its face is fixed the to the earth and it holds onto the tides. but moon in capricorn is emotional detachment or so based in perceived reality, it’s anti-moon in nature.

this is a time where u might find shame or doubt in ur intuition. where u might be out of tune with ur own emotional cues. where u may neglect ur emotional needs and desire. there can be less of a desire to connect or be intimate. and this also means u shield or guard urself from being intimate with urself. this can also be a time of pessimism, nihilism, loss of hope, and exhaustion.

the moon (mind) in capricorn forming a trine with mercury (the brain) in virgo also shows a mindset fixated on what can be easily observed and verified. the theme is security, practicality, and objectivity. but very few things in life are just an absolute. especially not in the world of the moon who changes shapes every night, shifting between darkness and light.

i suppose though, there’s a reason why moon’s sister sign is trine the sign of exalt. saturn rules over shadows, and the moon is constantly in shadow. this shouldn’t be unfamiliar.

so when the moon is engulfed in shadow, that doesn’t mean it’s not there. transit moon dispositor being the saturn in pisces Rx says when ur left to ur physical senses, u limit what u accept as possible. heighten the sense experience to what isn’t physical.

Anaretic Pluto in Capricorn conjunct Moon in Capricorn

on september 14th, around 3:33 pm EST, the moon will form a tight conjunction with capricorn pluto Rx for a brief moment before leaving capricorn and entering aquarius. it’ll be at 29°49”. now… i rarely read for modern planets because i don’t find much personal use in them, but i felt the following was important to say, especially as we near eclipse season.

first of all, in modern, pluto is a malefic. and so is saturn (both modern & traditional), which is the dispositor of both the moon and pluto in this transit. so as is, this denotes challenge. this isn’t to scare u of course. but the universe operates indifferent to what we feel is good or bad for us. the transits do not care whether u want them to happen or not, they will simply happen. the thing is u have liberty in how they play out.

with that being said, pluto brings destruction & it represents the underworld. it also represents secrets and things that are deeply altering. pluto’s presence in a saturnian sign at the 29° degree makes me feel like this is something long term. not the transit, but this indicates a transition period that is major for the native due to pluto’s themes of rebirth/death and the 29° degree representing endings/transitions.

the 29° is called the degree of fate, mastery, and crisis. it is considered a crucial degree. and it is also called anaretic, which derives from greek (anaretikos) meaning “destruction/bringer of necessity.” are y’all noticing a pattern? u feel the impending change on the horizon, but all of the energy surrounding that impending change caused urgency. the hastiness is caused by wanting a chapter of ur life to simply be closed, which i understand. but u also gotta understand u can’t rush fate & things will unfurl naturally as they do. this is why collective confusion often happens around this time period. people moving too fast!

in a way, i associate the energy with the world, the tower, and the judgment cards of the tarot major arcana. if u been seeing those cards lately, then ur guides are definitely aligned with the transits because there’s going to be an energetic shift as pluto exits capricorn the last time for the next 250 years. we won’t live to see that transit, so naturally, pluto gotta go out with a bang. think of pluto’s last brief regress into capricorn as ur chance to review the material, because there will be a final once pluto stations direct worth 60% of ur semester grade.

so how does this relate to the moon? the anaretic 29° degree with the moon shows heightened emotional sensitivity, dramatic shifts in the family, and changes in security. something ancestrally, karmically, & domestically is changing for u. and don’t be afraid! we go through the anaretic degree every few days with the moon since it transits so quickly. but still, a 29° degree transit is a time to abstain from impulsive decision making (especially matters concerning the involved planet, ie, i wouldn’t sign a lease during moon’s 29° b/c the home is affected). the delineation is informed through its conditions.

a 29° capricorn moon transit without a pluto conjunction will behave very differently compared to one with a pluto transit. with anaretic, pluto is the destroyer. and due to it being a long-transiting planet, it is felt heavily over entire groupings of people or simply felt for a longer period of time. this doesn’t mean the destruction will bring necessarily unfavorable results for the native, but i suppose it depends on what u learn from the Rx and how u move forward in application. i don’t think it’ll be necessarily enjoyable, but it will be necessary point blank. with the moon contacting this placement, expect even more “destruction” in the home. i’m not going to speak conclusively on what that can mean without the added context of a natal chart, but generally, that potent energy will be brought to things governing the moon. emotions, secrets being brought to light, changes in the home dynamic or the home at all. or the hierarchy within the home, and what provides security to it.

do i make sense? i sure hope i do. & i hope this brief reading on a couple significant moon aspects being made this moon in capricorn will be useful for u. good luck y’all! the next time the moon will form a conjunction with the capricorn pluto Rx will be october 11, 2024. that will be a review on what u had learned. then the final moon-pluto conjunction in capricorn stationed direct will be november 7, 2024 to test ur application. so try to keep notice of significant themes occurring with the cap moon transits until then.

with love, HoodReader

[dankmyfarrik]

Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind | Chapter 8: Happy Is The Blameless

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Summary: An alternate universe where the only thing that happens differently is... well, the Emperor wins. And Luke wakes up with a mysterious scar on his temple.

Read it here:

AO3

Chapter Warnings: Surgical torture, (very brief) thoughts of past self-harm.

Welp, I finally went overboard. This chapter contains the longest spice scene I have dared to write (as of yet). Please 18+!!

Word count: ~5.5k

-----

Darkness all around empty, black soulless. Finally, his senses are returning to him. Not another misplaced dream. He looked down at his hands, no sand, only black. But then he could just about make out the shadow of his hand in the darkness. A dim light shone from off in the distance and against his will or maybe just his best judgment—he followed. The world tipped upside down. In an instant, it felt as though the blackness was chasing him.

Dragging him down. 

Pulling him under. 

Drowning. 

Fear. 

"Yes, use the fear," Father had said. "Channel your anger. Let it flow through you." But it all felt wrong now. 

It's all so terribly wrong.

"Help!"

He screamed towards the light. Voice cracking, turning into a life or death panic. "Help, help me please! Don't let me stay here!" His voice was shaking and cracking as he ran towards the light as fast as his feet would carry him. He tripped and scrambled back. Desperate. 

"Take me away from here!" 

"Luke!?" It was that woman. Leia. 

"Luke, take my hand." She was there just in front of him. Kind eyes. A face he had always known as if it were his own. He reached out, straining, but something twisted around his ankle, dragging him back. 

"Leia!" The pads of their fingers scrapped against each other but not enough to gain purchase. He was pulled further away.

"Help me! Save me! It's all wrong, don't forget me please!"

No no no. 

He jolted up, eyes bloodshot, hair stuck to sweat on his forehead, chest hammering. 

"Leia!!" He screamed into the blinding light. 

"Don't let me forget again!! Not again! Please!!"

Bright light shone directly into his eyes and behind it eclipsed a black soulless droid. A droid holding a spinning surgical blade inches from his forehead. He reached out in a panic to swat it away, but his hands were restrained. Feet restrainedaround his ankle to an operation table. Luke kicked and thrashed, hyperventilating.

"Leia! Leia! Help me!" He force-slammed the droid to bits against the wall with a buck of his head. Another entered the room, and he lifted his hand but was stopped by the restraint. Stupid move. That split-second delay was all that was needed for someone. A human. To press a mask to his face, gas flooded his nostrils and his eyes drooped before he could even resist.

It was forgotten.

Natus woke in his bed, head pounding, eyes felt like they were sunk into his skull. A smeared drop of blood on his temple. An empty space noticeable next to him on the bed. The Mandalorian won't be back with the bounty for at least another week. He felt the loneliness like a hole in his heart. Natus ran to the fresher to vomit up nothing. 

------

The Crest landed softly on a bed of wildflowers. The Naboo sunrise lightened the sky with streaks of pinks and oranges, and clouds lit from the bottom with a warm, fiery glow. The colors lightly reflected off of Din's armor, and even with the visor, he knew it was quite a vision. He missed the feeling—when the sun first kisses the skin—seeping deep into his pores. The leather strapped tight to his body was all the more suffocating. 

The fob beeped in his hand, and Din began the trek to the top of the sloped hill. The petals around him turned to open to the morning, dew catching on their leaves, popping with color with every inch the sun rose.

Despite the beautiful scene encompassing him, unease remained present within him, as he knew, or maybe it was that he didn't know what awaited him when he got to the top.

Din saw her white robes first. But it was undeniable in a moment she was indeed the woman from the broken, dusty holo.

At last.

Hope.

Like Luke, time had not been kind to her, but despite it all she stood tall, strong, courageous, wind adrift in the few strands of hair allowed to be free from her intricate braids. 

"Hunter, why do you hesitate?"

Din had vowed to not repeat the mistake he had made with Solo. But now that he finally had her, he didn't know what he could say. She filled the silence for him.

"This is where my mother grew up and fell in love. I know so little about my mother. An old friend told me to look here. I thought I should visit at least once, young love, the beginnings of a family. I can feel it. Can't you?"

He could.

"Given that my brother is the reason why you are here, this dream in the flowers didn't end so well."

Brother. 

Din jolted a pause, waiting for his thoughts to catch up to his racing blood. It made perfect sense; he could see it within them both now. They were part of each other.

She just stared intently at him. The only other person who could see straight past the visor and into his eyes. How was that even possible?

"You care about him," she whispered, the sound disappearing into the wind like a secret for them both.

Din shifted nervously, the flowers brushing against his leg. 

He decided there was no better time than now to jump off the metaphorical ledge, the one he had been inching closer and closer to, subtly with questions to Natus, but now it was time for action. He had no true loyalty to the Empire.

"Leia, I need your help."

The flowers lightly fluttered around them. The horizon was much brighter now. A warm light.

"And it seems I am in need of yours as well. What remains of my family I will fight fiercely for. Luke was the last person in the galaxy I ever thought would turn…" She bit off her words and glanced down. Silence broken only by the light breeze filled them both. When she started again, her tone changed.

"You recently captured Han Solo."

Din held his breath, this could be his only shot. They needed to trust each other, and how could she ever trust him now? He was a villain to her. 

"Is Han still alive?" But the words were not aquisitory; she was just stating a fact, that she knew. She didn't hold malice against him. Even though she should.

"I don't know," he swallowed hard, regret filling him up and flooding him, suffocating him. "I'm so sorry."

She nodded quickly, "Thank you."

"Don't—"

"No," she said, "I mean it," Leia worked to compose herself. She morphed subtly, straightening her posture, holding her head higher. 

"Now, enough chit-chat. You won't need those," she gestured to the binders dangling at his hip, "Comon', hurry up." And she strode straight past the fumbling Din to the Crest. "We have a galaxy to save."

–

Deep, somewhere in the heart of the galaxy, the Crest's ramp lowered, the ship—his home—consumed within the belly of the Descant. Two figures, instantly recognizable, stood on the other side, like demons, greeting their guests to hell. 

The first, Natus, as expected. Dressed as stiffly and blindingly white as the lights reflecting off of the troopers' armor. 

The second rivaled the vacuum of space itself. 

It took everything within Din to keep his pose, to not outwardly twitch a muscle. But Leia, in all of her courage, marched straight past him once more without a glance behind her, leading the way to whatever nightmare was before her. 

Her boots clicked against the ramp, changing in sound when she made it onto the polished, barren floor. She marched straight through the middle of Natus and the tall, evil figure next to him. 

"Out of my way," she hissed at the first imp who dared to stand in her path. The trooper before her looked as though he genuinely considered following the order of their new prisoner. 

"Not so fast, Princess." The sound, as deep as the thrumming and groaning of tectonic plates, shook the very ship in its orbit to the bottom of the universe.

"Lord Vader," she sounded exasperated, "as much as this routine, as with our conversations, amuse me, I would rather just get to the heart of the matter now. And you wouldn't risk doing that in such a public location."

"We are happy to accommodate," Vader said, tilting his visor to Natus. His sparkling golden eyes transfixed to Leia,without taking his gaze from her face, he clipped binders around her wrists. 

Din stood helplessly at the edge of the Crest's ramp, watching as the troopers parted like a sea. Leia, flanked by Natus and Vader, marched onward, her head held high with unwavering will. The three moved through the sterile, jagged halls, disappearing from sight. A bravery akin to the old heroes his mother spoke of in bedtime stories long ago. Tales that had filled his dreams with fearlessness and a call to the stars. That spirit hadn't died in her. And he wondered if it hadn't died in him either.

—

"Boys," she huffed, "don't you think this is overkill?" Leia knew they could have sent any trooper to sentence her to a cell, sure if it was just two she could have escaped, she could even handle around five before hesitating at a small battalion, but nevertheless they proved they had the resources. This special escort was more than a power play. But why?

Her last real conversation with her brother before all hell broke loose was just the two of them with bugs chirping and fireflies swirling around them on Endor, Luke told her Vader was their father.

Although a fact, it could never be true. Bail would always be her real father. But as she looked at the two robed figures, one in all black and the other white, she knew, however twisted, this special treatment whether conscious or not, was a familial one and possibly the first time they were all in the same place in this way.  

She thought back to the whispering flower field on Naboo, how could this, more machine than man—a creature next to her, be the one who fell in love with her mother all those years ago. 

But for now, she had to focus on the matter at hand. Leia eyed daggers into Vader as they stopped outside of a cell. The entry slid open to a small and simple room, just like all the others she had been temporarily held captive in over the years. 

She stepped in without looking back, and the door closed behind her with a snap and hiss. 

Natus looked up to his father as they shared a moment of quiet behind the other side of the cell door. 

"My son, you know what to do. Search your feelings."

And Vader kept walking down the hall, leaving Natus alone with this beautiful, familiar and mysterious woman on the other side of the door. 

"Search your feelings," he whispered to himself. It sounded so simple but there was a war behind his eyes, so much shrieking and crashing, burning and confusion. Hallways that twisted around each other, leading to nowhere, and nowhere had answers. 

"Search your feelings. I know what to do." He said louder this time, but there was no confidence in his cadence. 

Everything was so loud. He balled his fists, gloves creaking. He could do exactly what happened with Solo, after Father had helped him, he wouldn't make more mistakes, he would feel enlightened by doing what is right for the Empire. He could do that again with her.

"I know what to do." He rocked on his heels, back and forth ever so slightly, gaining momentum, pushing forward to a step. Natus pressed a button on the panel, and the cell door slid open. 

She turned to face him, their eyes met. Her brown eyes were so full of care seeing into his soul and he felt all the gold drain from his own eyes. All the malice and revenge left him like a kick to the gut. He could double over and gasp raggedly for air but he just stood motionless, unable to move a muscle. 

"Is Vader gone?" She also seemed stunned and breathless.

"Why would I ever tell you that?" His lips barely moved to form the words. His voice foreign and distant. Embarrassingly quiet. 

Yes.

"Luke."

Natus shook his head vigorously, bangs whipping back and forth. He was physically unable to bring words past his throat. He stepped back, the will to escape this shrinking box clawing at him, but the will to stay, be with this woman just a second longer, rung through every fiber of his being. 

"You called out to me," she said in a rush to get all the words out before he disappeared, either from the room or from his mind. "Don't you remember? It was through the force. A dream. You asked for my help?"

A pause, he yanked his eyes away from the door back to her.

"I'm here Luke. Just like you said. I'm here."

"You—" his voice was so dry and it cracked heavily, barely making a sound. She stepped closer, they were nearly touching. In the calm, he searched his feelings. "You have kind eyes."

She put a hand on his lifelessly pale cheek. The world stopped spinning. Her hand was so soft. A tear fell against his will. He pressed a white-gloved hand to his face, and it came back damp from the single tear. Silently, he looked back to her.

Shocked from the display of emotion, his blue eyes wide, he ran from the room. 

As soon as Natus was a fair distance away from her, his emotions screamed around him, turning to chaos, slamming into his ears. Even if he ran back to his room with the door closed behind him, the fresher shower on, beating into his back, scalding hot or frozen cold, meditating for hours and hours, bringing himself to the brink of death, Natus knew nothing would be able to drown out the noise this time.

I'm here. Search your feelings. Through passion I gain strength. Just like you said. Through strength I gain power. You know what to do. Through power I gain victory. A dream. Through victory my chains are broken.

Just like you said.

I'm here. 

Though the medical droids have pieced him back together again and again, there is only one other being who he feels comfortable being vulnerable to. Only one place he could go, even if it was against his better judgment. Troopers marched, and ships took off around him, sweeping his cape as he made his way through the hanger, focusing on a signature that had not yet left his consciousness. The screaming noise of the ships were dull in comparison to the chaos in his mind.

"Mandalorian." Natus spoke formally, knowing his voice carried. 

Sure enough, his helmeted head appeared from where he was working on a panel of the ship—an unnecessary fix to fly—his hunter was stalling. And Natus couldn't be more relieved. He could focus on this. The voices in his head quieted to a background hum.  

The Mandalorian jumped to the floor from atop the ship with a grace that revealed decades of practice. 

"I have an urgent matter in which I need to inspect your ship." Natus coughed slightly; on top of all of the other emotions, he felt like a fool. 

"If it's urgent." The hunter towered over him, helm tilted down, grazing over Natus before turning. "Then follow me."

Natus realized despite being in the ship's proximity countless times, he had never actually stepped inside, and for a moment, he worried he had crossed a boundary. But the moment couldn't linger because the second they were bothshielded from outside eyes and security cams, the Mandalorian crossed several feet in a flash to be closer to him, scanning him for injury. 

"Are you alright? What happened."

Natus released a shaky breath, relaxing to the proximity. He was here. He was safe.

"I'm fine."

The helmet titled and stared.

"It was that woman, she just had one look at me and told me things I don't believe, and I fell apart. I'm a weak fool. Who lets their prisoners interrogate them! Father would be so disappointed."

"Why?" Din gently pushed. Not sure of what he was hoping to uncover. 

"He told me to search my feelings. But I don't have feelings, only voices crying out in my head. I can never extrapolate anything that makes sense. It's clouded."

In a single movement, Din scooped the Sith into his arms, resting his head atop the other man, applying a pressure and comfort that he knew was so rare. 

"Now that can't be all true," his deep voice rumbled; every one of Natus' senses filled with the man before him. Smoke and woodchips. A surprising softness despite the armor. He focused on this, letting the waves wash over him, taking him far away from the Descant, far away from this damned galaxy. He wanted to be closer to this strange source of dependability, companionship, and comfort. To feel him more. And he knew the other man wanted that as well. What an odd pair they are, indeed. "You can feel this and the floor beneath our feet," Natus released a shaky exhale in his arms, "you can feel me."

Din leaned backward, resting against a wall, bringing Natus with him, letting the weight of the man fall even more on him. Natus nestled into him, slotting their arms and legs together and burying his face in Din's neck just so that he could feel the warmth of his breath through the cowl. Din's hand followed random paths and circles along the blond's back, feeling him relax even more. Natus responded in turn, moving his hands all across Dins' body, his back, his shoulders, arms. Through all of this, Din's pelvis was in a wonderfully close position to the other man's in between his legs where they half stood half lay, learning each other once again but with so many layers of clothing and armor in the way. 

Din didn't dare move or initiate despite the uncontrolled feeling his pants were beginning to feel too tight. Natus was in a very vulnerable state, and Din wanted to help him, which meant letting the blond lead in whatever action he was comfortable with. 

Sure enough, as if Natus read his mind, he guided Din's hand to the swell of his ass. Din gripped the skin and clothes with a wide grasp and earned a whimper in his ear. Understanding the message, Din lifted the man up, lightly dragging him along the bulge in his pants, feeling the other man was just as hard as he was. Din started a slow rhythm. The friction dueto the clothes catching between them in all of the right places.

"Mh, this okay?" Din asked, dazed already by just a few lifts.

"s'Yes please."

Din could already tell this was going to be ragged and desperate...and leave a mess. Despite knowing it would also be mind-blowing and cataclysmic, that's not what he wanted with this man right now. 

With a particularly drawn out thrust he asked, "Do you want me to take you to my room?"

The other man, now clinging to him for purchase, nose having wriggled it's was through Din's cowl, hot breath on Din's neck, their only skin touching, "Please." 

"So polite."

In a flash Din turned them around, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist, and walked them only a few feet to the side, where he strung open the cloth revealing the small dim bunk with hardly enough room for them both to fit.

"Oh," the blond let out a small light chuckle, a warm smile crossing his features—possibly the rarest sight in the galaxy. He leaned his head back on Din's breastplate, admiring the view before him. "My room is slightly bigger. But I like yours more." 

The room was small, yes, but it was warm, and quiet. It didn't show the vastness of space or have magically always pressed flat sheets that were blinding white and vast empty spaces that faintly smelled like disinfectant. No, it was rough and it was home. 

"I'm glad," Din rasped, leading the other man in and closing the curtain behind them. The room became dark, but Din could just about make out the features on the man's face before him. Soft relaxed smile, pupils blown. 

He felt hands on his belt and heard a click, his holster and all fell to the floor. Followed by Din's pauldrons, and chestplate. Din started working on unclipping the Sith's cape, unpinning the black flap over his heart, revealing the plain white jumper. Until, of course, he took that off too. After a sufficient amount of clothing and armor had been removed, Din laid the blond on his bed, then crawled his way on top of the other man. 

Their hands drawing over each other, the blond sucking marks into Din's skin as Din rolled his cock into the man's upper thigh, hand below messaging an opening, earning small hums and gasps from the lips occasionally pausing their endeavors. 

When it was time, Din sat up, bringing the blond with him, and turned him around so that the Sith's back was to his chest, Din's cock twitched next to his ass earning a small grind backwards. An arm went below the bed, patting around a few times before grasping the small bottle and bringing it up to them, Din flipped the lid open. Then, he reached in front of him to grab Natus' neglected member, and began stroking him, spreading the wetness so that his hand ran smoothly along him. Din's forearm and bicep, as his arm worked, locked the man in place as he wriggled on his lap. Din aligned his member to the other man's opening and ever so slightly putting his tip into him. 

With his free hand, Din reached upwards, heart pounding with nerves, but once again, he thought to Leia and her courage and unclipped the latch on his visor, releasing a hiss.

Natus gasped, his stomach filling with butterflies and fear—" But!" Din tightened his grip on his cock while his hand worked. The helm dropped on the bed with a dull thud. 

"Keep looking forwards Mesh'la. I trust you." And he slid the rest of the way into the tight warmth and wetness.

They both released a gasp. And oh, how Din should have done this ages ago. This was… hardly bending the rules of the creed. A mere oversight really. He breathed in fully the other man's scent, dragging his tongue hot across the man's neck as he set a slow, brutal pace. 

I trust you. 

Everything swirled, senses maxed out. All six inches of him buried deep, his hand working his cock, but stars, his voice—his real voice—without the visor. So pure and soft and he stored it in a secret place in his mind and heart that could never be forgotten. And oh, he has scruff. Natus didn't try to think about what his lover looked like below the helm—an invasion of privacy—he knew he would never be given the opportunity. Besides, after their first encounter, his curiosity surrendered to a fierce respect. But the light scratching along his shoulder and then neck indicating a bit of facial hair suited the man he knew well. Above all, what dizzied him the most—trust. This was the Mandalorians' most sacred religious tradition, yet his helm lay hollow on the bed. For him. He trusted him. Those lips glided along him, leaving marks he would cherish for rotations to come. Soft gasps and moans that were otherwise lost to the vocabulator. Natus kept it all, storing it in a secret place in his mind that could never be touched. The galaxy long forgotten in the best of ways---

"Luke."

An unfiltered voice—a low pleased grown. It was barely above a whisper. A secret. A confession of a sin. Natus' whole body tensed. Was that word a mistake? He couldn't be thinking of another lover...was it intentional? Why did it make him feel such a way? Why did it feel like a child learning to use a naughty word for the first time without knowing what it meant, just that it was wrong.

But Din purposefully ignored the other mans reeling mind and pressed open-mouthed kisses and licks to his neck, grasping his cock slightly harder.

"Say—," Natus' jaw painfully clamped shut, a desperate attempt to stop himself. Hellfire and holy water—the temptation too great.

"Say it again," He got out through gritted teeth. 

He felt the small bite on his neck morph into a smile.

"Luke." A faint voice, hot breath, the subtle scratch followed by teeth, then a kiss. A particularly deep thrust.

A darkest secret. Fit for a shadowed, tucked away room such as this. No one could ever know... particularly Father and Master. And, as far as Natus was concerned, if no one ever found out, maybe, just maybe, they could both lose their religions—at least for as long as they could hold each other. 

His heart kicking against his chest, all wrong in all the right ways.

"Again."

A hard thrust, nearing pain.

"Luke."

Natus cried out, barely forming the words, choppy and broken from the rhythm. "A-gain."

Instead of immediately obliging, the Mandalorian scooped the sith up once more, releasing his grip around his member, leaving him with an obscene noise—a feeling of emptiness and cold—and pinning him flat on his stomach. The blond lay sprawled. Tight lean muscles, small waist, taking up what little space there was on the mattress, slick and waiting for him. 

"Please." Natus whimpered softly, blowing hair that was sticking to his forehead. How could Din refuse?

The Mandalorian crawled on top of him, grabbed a fistful of the blond's hair not to pull hard but to guide away from accidentally getting a glimpse of his face, and nuzzled back to that space on Natus' marked neck. 

It was during that moment when six inches were sliding back into him without a single hitch or helpful guide when Natus, dazed and with rolled back eyes, registered the discarded helm laying immediately next to him on the mattress. It took everything in him not to cum then and there.

"Luke." The voice rasped, grabbing his hair even more firmly. With the new angle, despite Natus not being able to do more than wiggle and prop his ass higher for easier access, his hunter certainly had considerably more leverage. And he knew how to use it.

He pounded again and again, "Luke–Luke–Luke…"

Natus clung to the sheets below him, eyes squeezed shut.

"Ah! A-gain!"

His hunter slid all the way out only to slam back in, jolting him forward on the mattress. 

"L-uke!"

Natus came with a cry, and the Mandalorian wasn't far behind, pumping out his release before collapsing all his weight onto the man below him. In contrast to his last touches, he gently found Natus' ear, nibbling the lobe and whispering one last time before the word could be demonized again.

"My Mesh'la Luke."

They lay together for what could be an eternity, neither of them speaking, because speaking required asking questions and finding answers, and it was better if they pretended Din didn't just do the most forbidden thing in the galaxy. For as long as they stayed in the safety of the dim light, Din could keep his helmet off and could keep licking, and kissing, biting, and using his mouth to feel and live and pleasure for the first time in his life.

He treasured every texture and wanted more and more. He nipped and kissed and licked downwards, following a trail, heheard the blond moan above him. He had never done this before but stars, has he always wanted to try. To return the favor. To enjoy and pleasure his partner in a new way. He slid to the edge of the bed, pinning the blond from looking up with a strong, muscular arm.

He continued downwards, licking the last of the release, enjoying the taste and the smell of these new sensations. Din was pleasantly surprised how easy it was to coax the man back to full hardness. He slipped his swollen lips over the head of the cock, slowly bobbing, swirling, and tugging with his free hand. 

The Sith, out of instinct, reached out, placing a gentle hand in Din's hair. Like a burn, the Sith recoiled, feeling Din's curls, regretting learning more about what lay behind the helm. But Din reached up, finding the man's hand, placing it back in his hair, letting him guide, enjoying the tug and pull of his hair like a drop of water in a desert.

When the man came in his mouth, he licked up everything and made his way back up, to continue to worship the other man's body with his mouth. His chest, arms, neck, face, near his lips, but a spike of nerves hit him, and he opted to kiss his nose, going higher…

Until finally, Din dragged his tongue along the small slice of a scar over Natus' temple.

The sheets moved as Natus abruptly sat up, careful not to see the other man's head.

"I have to leave. There is something I need to take care of."

And as quickly as they were able to reassemble themselves, he was past the curtain, running down the ramp into the shiphold and gone.

—-

By the time Natus reached Pershing's office, he was already fuming, the force vibrating through every tendon and nerve, setting his skin alight. 

The door flung open and he burst inside. 

"Alright Pershing," he said as a entered, "I'm suddenly very curious about your research. Please, tell me more."

Testing vials and data pads lined the walls and the room rank of disinfectant. The man at the center of it all jumped, turning straight as a board mid-air, then scrambled to adjust his glasses, pushing them upwards on the bridge of his nose.  

"Lord Natus! It's an honor. Really, it is! But—I um, but I." Natus gave him a look that inspired motivation. "As you know, we have been collecting force users for sampling and trials. I specifically oversee the physical manipulation, as you know with the binders test." A long pause, some piece of equipment let out a harmless beep, "I don't want to bore you with the nuances…"

"Are there any other forms of…persuasion? Like mental instead of physical?" 

"Well, Moff Gideon is rather adamant that I don't share about…"

Natus stressed every syllable, fire sparking in his eyes. "I implore you to reconsider."

"Sir, you don't have the clearance to—"

"TELL ME!" The lights in the room flickered and beakers shook with their liquids on the shelf.

"We. We. Well. There is a procedure," Natus' eyes widened in disbelief as Pershing ran a finger along his temple in the exact spot as his scar. When he said "procedure," the other man's eyes wildly searched his own, praying he understood. 

His goggled eyes darted around with the caution of a man whose every word was monitored. "It has shown to be successful. With results better than I had anticipated, so there is no concern there… for force users no matter where they fall on the Metaclorian Scale or spectrum from light to dark." 

Their eyes met again, "Incorporating the latest neuro-synergistic feedback inhibition," he went on fluent and sophisticated, his words bleeding into the soft hum of the machinery. But everything that needed to be said had already been spoken, now the scientist drowned on, trying to dilute his treason in jargon.

Thank you Pershing, you are a good man. 

—

ADVANCED SCIENCE DIVISION

REPORT #912577-B3

}}

<CHIEF SCIENTIST = {REDACTED}

ISSUE: "UPDATE"

SPECIMEN ID: 000002

NAME: "NATUS">

ULTERIOR: "LK SKYWLKR">

}}

<LOCATION: IMPERIAL RESEARCH CENTER 23-B>

<NATUS has once again reached STAGE THREE under directive: diverging from suggestive protocol: A392D. Resembling self-awareness.> 

<RESPONDENT CONNECTING>

…

<MESSAGE LOADING>

…

…

<This is the fifth time STAGE THREE has been reached. Do you believe it is of any concern?>

<I believe extra precautions are warranted. It is my recommendation that the specimen should not continue to interact with Princess Leia Organa. That has been the primary cause of reaching STAGE 4 previously.>

<MESSAGE LOADING>

…

…

…

…

<Lord Vader has permitted their interactions on the account of strengthening loyalty to the Empire.>

<With respect, it is my and my team's belief that continued proximity is unwise. Even with this goal in mind.>

<MESSAGE LOADING>

…

…

<Without loyalty, your research is meaningless. Treat the specimen's fate as your own. Progress will resume as normal.>

<RESPONDENT DISCONNECTED>

-----

Chapter 9 will be out in 2 weeks.

Reblogs help my story grow 🌱 <3

[pluvialpoet]

a pact of ice & fire

Summary: when war divides the seven kingdoms and an alliance is pledged upon your family’s behalf, you seek to make a traitorous pact of your own- with your family’s sworn enemy

Pairing: aemond targaryen x stark!fem!reader

Requested: no

Warning: mentions of scars (both aemond & reader), physical pain & suffering, familial betrayal, slight angst, possible spoilers for fire & blood/hotd- do not read if you are not comfortable with the warnings listed above!!!

Word Count: 2,076

masterlist

“Lady Stark,” The shadows speak your name, coaxing you from the silence- and the stillness- of your thoughts with the interruption of a low, deep timbre. Perhaps if a flame were present- by candle, torch, or fire burning in the hearth- it might’ve illuminated trembling hands or fidgeting fingertips, but such actions remain eclipsed by a soft, barely there flicker of moonlight. Shielded by enough darkness to present a poised front, you gather fistfuls of your skirts and drop down to a curtsy, bowing before the man who has not yet stepped into the light, and a chill- much cooler than you’re familiar with- fills the air.

He regards you silently, and his judgment is deafening- intimidating, even. Surrounded by stillness- a void of darkness and quiet- you’re not sure what to make of the fact that he’s accepted your invitation. He’s abided by the ink from your quill with only the shadows to bare witness to such a clandestine affair, and you wonder if the umbra hides an enemy or an ally. 

“Rise,” The walls command with an authority that seeps into the waddle and daub that shields the two of you from the rest of the town- voluntarily trapping you within a pile of mud, manure, and straw. Upon your request, he has agreed to meet- but that is the extent of any jurisdiction you might’ve once held. Now, you are to abide by his demands, surrendering what little power you’ve grown accustomed to under your old title in favor of submission to his instruction and cause. It is a vow silently made- an unspoken promise you will uphold regardless of what happens when twilight unveils the illusion of benevolence come morning. When the sun rises, nothing will be the same. “If it is counsel you seek, I urge you- once more- to seek an audience with my brother, the king.” 

“It is not just counsel I’ve traveled far for,” Your words don’t fill the space as his do, your tone not as sure nor assertive as he is, but they reach his ears, nevertheless- along with a glimpse of your motive as you step towards the light. “It is your counsel that has guided my trek.” 

The confession isn’t earned, and the sincerity of such a remark is skewed by your urgency to meet. Desperation doesn’t warrant reliance, and despite a rather convincing plea for his company, Aemond knows better than to offer his trust blindly. Perhaps you will become an ally, but, as it stands, you are his foe. Pretty words of promise won’t change the simple fact that you’ve sided with his enemy, and until your pledges of loyalty and devotion come to fruition, that is what you’ll remain- an enemy.

“I stand before you now, and I’m growing quite tiresome of speaking in riddles,” He forewarns as his patience dwindles, urging you to reveal your true intentions before what little tolerance he holds towards the exchange fades away completely. “Speak your purpose,”

“I am not a traitor to your cause, my prince.” With a breath, you explain, “Whilst it is true that my family has held little interest in the political squabbles of the court, until late, it was not I who swore allegiance to your nephew- nor is it I who supports your sister’s claim to the throne.” 

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had traveled a great distance to meet with your brother, Cregan. He braved wind and snow and lost a few noble men along the way, but when he finally arrived, he sought to secure an alliance with your family that would grant him the banners his family needed to turn the tides of war in their favor. As far removed as you had managed to stay from the destruction and chaos of their battle, even you and your family weren’t immune to the tragedies of such conflict. As those across the seven kingdoms bled, you too felt he effects of carnage and wrath- a poison that filled you with rage and sorrow, doubt and terror- and when words of siding with the young prince, whose family was responsible for so much havoc and suffering, were spoken allowed, you felt the sharp sting of betrayal claim you as another victim to their cause.

“It is my brother whom expects me to uphold the same honor and loyalty he swore our name to under the guise of seeing a ghost.” Cregan was blinded by the resemblance Princess Rhaenyra’s firstborn son held to your late brother, and when a glimpse of traits thought to be long lost and forgotten provided him with a glimmer of the past, he aligned himself with the boy- hoping to mimic the union of brotherhood he had lost. You do not share the same sentiment. “I come bearing information about the tactics your nephew, sister, and uncle plan to use to infiltrate the city- along with the number of banners and weapons that will soon paint the streets with blood.”

It’s hard to distinguish warning from threat- sincerity from deceit- and he regards you carefully. He grapples with morality whilst digesting your words, unsure what to make of them. Your name has been a whisper in the wind throughout his life- an echo carrying tales of not only your family’s strength, but your character, as well- and though you’ve never met, he hardly recognizes the imposter that stands before him in the space where he expected a loyal woman to occupy. You may not have betrayed him- yet- but by requesting to meet with him, you’ve already betrayed your family’s trust. 

If you’re willing to sever a bond as ardent as the one shared between blood, what’s to stop you from betraying him- when the opportunity presents itself?

“What is it that you seek in return?” He seeks the answers he can not infer. Though Aemond doubts he’ll reep the reward of words of honesty and truth, he challenges you to speak freely- curious to discover what you think will negate the cost of your betrayal. 

He prepares for gold. He waits for you to ask for gems, jewels, or other abundant luxuries the North is deprived of. He expects greed and corruption- gluttony and sin- but with a shaky breath, audible in the silence that’s settled in the space of a reply, you step forward. Uneasy, his grip on the hilt of his sword tightens. Ready to brandish the blade if need be, he stands ready to attack- his heart racing at the thought of claiming the Stark girl as another forgotten casualty- but when your fingertips hesitantly reach for the veil that conceals your face from his view, his grip on his weapon goes as slack as his jaw.

“When I was a girl, I was mauled by a direwolf.” Having never bared yourself in such a way to anyone other than your family, you lack the courage to meet his gaze. Instead, you avert your stare to the cracks below your feet. “Though they’ve been on the brink of extinction, I spotted a pup in the woods and thought him to be injured.” The memory causes your scars to burn white hot with a pain so blistering that your eyes start to water. Perhaps, your tears are due in equal parts shame, humiliation, and sorrow. “His whimpers drew me closer, and when I reached him, I discovered that he was not injured- perhaps just scared, or lonely.” The irony that reflects your sentiment fills your mouth with a phantom metallic tang. “Tempted by the small creature, I thought it best to take him back to the maester, and it wasn’t until after I had tucked the pup under my arm and began my journey home that I realized that his mother was close by. She pinned me down, and-“ The three jagged claw marks on your cheek scarred over angry red and deep, dark purple speak for themselves. “It  was my eldest brother whom suggested a falsity of immense beauty be projected across the realm, born from his shame of having a mauled sister.”

Aemond steps forward to get a closer look, and your breath catches when he finally steps into the light.

“For many years I lived in that same shame.” You wince, feeling far too vulnerable in front of a stranger than you’ve ever been before. “I’ve donned my veil and hid behind silk and lace because I believed  myself unworthy of anything less than ridicule- until tales reached Winterfell about a young prince who had been marred, similarly.” Most of your youth was lost to suffering and shame, and it wasn’t until word of the maimed prince had reached your ears that your dread began to dissipate.“Perhaps the whispers in the wind are misinformed, but I heard that it was your own nephew who stole your eye from you and disfigured you- your own flesh and your own blood so envious of all the greatness you possess that he maimed you out of spite.” His nostrils flare, and when he offers no reply, you step forward. “I’ve never seen another before, and though tales of your mark have oft been traded as lore and warning, they were wrong when referring to your wound as a flaw.”

His cheeks flush at the implication beyond words unspoken. Though, he doesn’t consider the sentiment to be genuine. 

“You are wed to a Baratheon daughter, so I offer a pact of ice and fire of our own- beyond marital union,” The muscle in his jaw clenches as he grits his teeth at the reminder of his wife- a woman who does not understand him, a woman who holds a strong aversion towards him despite their union, a woman who he’s forced himself to try to love, but to no avail. “I seek familiarity from someone who knows what it is like to suffer under the weight of such an unbearable pain.” Though it’s your voice that confesses, it’s as though the words have been stolen from his tongue- unlocked from somewhere deep inside the center of his chest. “I seek the knowledge of someone who understands what it is like to live in the shadows because the light has been stolen from you.” Your lip begins to quiver and the tips of his fingers twitch involuntarily. “Perhaps it is juvenile, but what I truly seek is a companion who identifies with the same struggles and sorrow, as I do.” 

You do not seek revenge. You do not seek someone to ease your pain, but rather someone who understands it- a partner to bask in the darkness with- and Aemond struggles to put his thoughts into words.

“It is beautiful,” You whisper softly, in genuine awe, whilst the tips of your fingers brush against the lowest part of his scar. The touch- not hesitant, but gentle- is barely there and comforting. Only someone who knows such pain would know how to handle a mark riddled with damage. No one, save for his mother and the maesters, has ever regarded him with such care. Having grown so used to feelings of abhorrence and shrewdness, Aemond doesn’t know what to make of the ice from your touch soothing the flame against his skin. It’s a balance he never imagined possible, an ease he never dreamed himself worthy of. The look upon his face is unreadable, and when your kind, gentle, understanding touch threatens to leave him, he grips your wrist with a swiftness that startles you both. “Forgive me, Prince Aemond, I-“

You’ve overstepped. You’ve forgotten yourself and your place. Whatever fleeting courage compelled you to reach out and touch him might have cost you the alliance you’ve dreamt of for ages. Foolishly, you’ve treated the man before you as an ally- without vows of devotion or alliance- and perhaps that is your biggest fault. With traces of regret and fear in your eyes, you begin to apologize, but Aemond’s voice fills the silence before you have a chance to.

“I understand.” He assures you, taking a step closer and loosening his grip around your wrist. Though, he doesn’t let go completely. Perhaps, it’s because he’s not ready to part from where your flesh is adjoined, or perhaps he wants the chance to grow familiar with frost in his veins. Either way, when your eyes narrow, searching for an explanation and trying to make sense of the vagueness of his reply, he solemnly whispers, “I understand.”

tagging a few writers I admire: @mypoisonedvine @em-writes-stuff-sometimes @becauseicantdecide @aemonds-war-crime @aemonds-sapphire @ewanmitchellcrumbs @aemonds-targaryen @womprat00 @theold-ultraviolence

Send me some feedback! Requests: OPEN!

buy me a ko-fi!

(can't tell if I love this or hate it lol)

[rascosmicwisdom]

In Vedic astrology, Rahu is one of the nine celestial bodies known as the Navagrahas. Rahu is considered a shadow planet, as it does not have a physical existence but is an imaginary point in the sky. Rahu is often referred to as the North Node of the Moon, while its counterpart Ketu is known as the South Node.

Rahu is associated with desires, ambitions, materialism, and worldly attachments. It represents the areas of life where we seek growth, expansion, and new experiences. Rahu is known for its unpredictable and intense nature, and its influence can bring both positive and challenging effects depending on its placement in an individual's birth chart.

Some key aspects of Rahu in Vedic astrology include:

1. Ambition and worldly desires: Rahu represents our worldly desires, ambitions, and the pursuit of material wealth. It can indicate the areas of life where we seek success, recognition, and power.

2. Transformation and growth: Rahu is often associated with transformation and growth. Its influence can bring sudden changes, opportunities, and experiences that propel us forward on our life path.

3. Illusions and deception: Rahu is known to create illusions and confusion. Its energy can cloud judgment and lead to unrealistic expectations, indulgence in materialistic pursuits, and temptations.

4. Unconventional and out-of-the-box thinking: Rahu is associated with innovation, unconventional thinking, and breaking societal norms. It encourages exploration of new ideas, technologies, and alternative approaches.

5. Karmic influences: Rahu is linked to our past life karmas and unresolved issues. Its placement in the birth chart can indicate the karmic lessons we need to learn and the challenges we may face as a result.

6. Eclipse energy: Rahu is closely associated with eclipses. During a solar or lunar eclipse, Rahu's energy is amplified, and its influence can be more pronounced.

It's important to note that the effects of Rahu can vary depending on its placement in different houses and signs of the birth chart, as well as its relationship with other planets.

[sotogalmo]

2:58 am

Been watching the Amon theory video, and GUH.

Alnst OCs funger au....

Solei being a Sun God; “Who of us doesn't cover their true face and hide behind a persona? In the broad daylight we adapt a social role depending on the surrounding people. We put on a mask that works as the public image of our true personality. Do we hide our face to avoid the judgment of the people, or do we look down in shame as the sun watches our every move?”

”A sun that knows our deepest longings and lustful thoughts. Only in the darkness of the night does the true and vile nature of men get revealed. We share our decrepit bodies only to the select few under the moonlight. Despite what lowly thieves, covering in the shadows, would like you to think, the moonlight hides no one.”

in broad daylight we are someone else, but when something happens- an eclipse- only does the moonlight show. Only does the truth appear, and it only does when the moon is also around. Only when the moon is now the center of attention, because of how the sun went into hiding. Yet, Solei is observant. They like life, and so they might as well know what others are in some ways. They do place some of the students in ANAKT as animals in their minds. Drawing connections to creations they have seen with their own two eyes. (Connected to the fact that in canon s39 stage, Solei is part bird)

“If we gaze directly into the Sun our eyes will burn but we can look at the shadow it casts, and that shadow is none other than a Moon God. / Moon God, Rher, is a trickster God. A jealous god, he does not want to share godhood with mortals and according to Enki; ‘Rher is depicted as the god of the insane and those who've succumbed to madness. His blessing to men is his moonlight, which is said to uncover the truth under the human filth. A truth that is often too much for a human mind to handle.’”

Quite literally Solei and Aurien's relationship in the past, Aurien always following Solei and her solar sign being a moon. And with that, goes to the way that Rher is jealous- possibly going with the way that Aurien (beta or canon?) is quite obsessive? Not sure how to describe it but that part just made me think of Aurien and Solei tbh. But, besides that it then goes to the fact that Rher's blessing -being moonscorched- shows the truth, can go with how her round had Solei appear back; and Solei comes back in an unnatural form (feathers and bird legs, possibly more? Solei is wearing a cape so). But maybe it can tie with how Aurien in the past used to go the wagyeins and such (just like Ivan).

(Solei: @solei-eclipse / Aurien: @apriciticreveries )

*moon: aurien / sun: solei.

[vieriblood]

WARNINGS: [ MDNI ] + [ NSFW ] + [ NON-CON ] + [ BLOOD AND GORE ] + [ OC X CANON ]

••┈┈·┈•••┈┈┈••✦ ✿ ✦••┈┈┈•••┈┈·┈••

Alastor, for the first time in a long time since his arrival in hell, felt a hot rage run through him making his chest heave with disgust, Calliope's initiative to maintain a close friendship with the poor souls who worked alongside the Vee's was distasteful if not inappropriate, though of course anything to do with that trio was of his utter displeasure.

It was obvious his opinion at the sight of his beloved pet wagging its tail near the enemy.

But he tried to control his anger and his own destructive impulse since at the end of the day he knew Calliope well enough to know that no matter what she would come crawling back into his arms like the stupid, disgusting, obedient little thing she was, oh so he thought, how stupid of him to have let his guard down like that.

----- ★ -----

- What did you just say to me? - To say that Alastor was furious was an understatement, the static had overridden his voice more than usual just as his own shadows were growing restless at the scene of insolence.

That was new...

Alastor could have sworn that the little creature's soul was his property and not his own...which made his audacity burn in his guts.

Calliope could see his eyes narrow at her as his smile twisted, anger was beginning to cloud his judgement, but against all odds this time she didn't seem to relent and sudden burst of confidence managed to make even Alastor's antlers widen in silent menace.

He had just given her a simple, uncomplicated task other than to take a couple of garments to his tailor, in a normal situation she would have accepted with an endearing excitement but this time Calliope seemed reluctant to remain Alastor's little servant.

- I think you heard me right Alastor, I said no, you can turn around and go find another poor soul to do your bidding because I have better and more important things to do," she replied with a raised brow and a timbre that could easily be considered a growl.

Alastor's ears twitched back and an almost evil grin appeared on his lips as his animated personality was eclipsed by the shades of his anger completely clouding his judgment and the throbbing pain in his palms as his claws dug into them with force

Where had been his obedient little pet that always seemed ecstatic to please him with his every request.....who was it that was poisoning his silly little girl's little mind?

She could not allow these displays of disobedience to remain in her presence, she was now aware of the mistake of having been too gentle with her, although fortunately she still had time to correct this behavior.

Her mother had raised a polite, eloquent and respectable gentleman, but thanks to her upbringing she knew that spoiled brats had to be handled with a firm hand so that they would learn respect.

- Oh, sweetie, you've probably mistaken me for someone who really cares what you think," he said furiously, letting his voice crackle with the static that was beginning to set in.

Deep down he wished Calliope would come to her senses and bow her head.

- Believe what you will Alastor, I don't care, I have an appointment to keep," the audacity of her words was coupled with the sly smile that appeared on her lips as she turned to leave.

Her heart pounded with anticipation as she felt Alastor's eyes burn holes in the back of her head, and the degrading silence seemed louder the longer she watched, but this time Calliope was undeterred. The determination to try to take control of her life was stronger than the fluttering butterflies that flooded her insides.

But the joy did not last long when a sharp, stabbing pain caught her throat.

a sharp, stabbing pain caught her throat, the chain attached to her neck materialized and with a hard tug she managed to pull back a couple of steps before falling off her sword with a high-pitched screech.

And when she least expected it, the enormous figure of Alastor was already in front of her, eclipsing her with his imposing presence, his demonic form was making its presence known, causing Calliope's determination to waver as her ears finally fell back against her hair, but a part of her wanted to keep fighting, feelings that manifested itself by throwing her head back in an attempt to free herself as she tried to pull away, useless when Alastor pulled on the chain with such force that all the air in her lungs evaporated with a choked sigh.

She recognized that sensation, the chain felt like a rope...the same rope with which she had signed her death warrant.

The lack of air made her feel dizzy and the tears were starting to sting her eyes in a painful way,she tried to scream for help but was stopped when Alastor's claws dug into her cheeks drawing blood with the pressure he was exerting to keep her quiet - oh dear that won't work and you know it...tell me who would waste their time saving a stupid, disgusting, little bitch like you? -

His words felt like a rusty iron bar digging into her ribs so hard it burned.

- I-I'm sorry!...Alastor!...please stop! - Every breath of air he had to take was painful, his vision was beginning to blur from the pressure the chain was exerting against his neck.

Alastor could almost sense a hint of guilt for his actions but Calliope had managed to break his patience and at this point in the discussion an apology was not enough.

He needed to learn his place one way or another.

Calliope's brain seemed to shut down for a few minutes though when she was finally allowed to breathe the bindings on her neck had already evaporated and when she least expected it they were in a different environment, the strange forest that connected to Alastor's bedroom

- A-Alastor...l-let me go...i-promise to be good...p-please - she spoke when she managed to catch her breath but her words sounded like a hoarse whimper that turned into a frightened sob as Alastor's hands took their place on her neck cutting off her air again.

For the first time in a long time she felt afraid of Alastor.

- Oh my sweet girl don't be afraid, I only wish to teach you a much needed lesson...you have behaved like a very spoiled brat and your insolence must be punished - Alastor held your gaze as his claws tightened around her little neck, his shadows began to emerge and slither around her body snaking down her body capturing her thighs, her arms and twisting down her torso - if you behave yourself I will be gentle with you -

That was the last thing she heard as she felt the hands of her shadows tearing at her clothes and when Calliope realized their malicious intent she screamed again with a final gasp.

- N-NO ALASTOR... P-PLEASE STOP IT,STOP IT,STOP IT -

Alastor was a gentleman, an elegant man whom his mother had brought up with the best values and he was proud of it.

But now, right now his own primal instincts were screaming at him to reclaim that little body, he was imploring her to show that stupid girl who was in control, his sobs only encouraged his own arousal.

In the end she deserved it

She would have time to evoke her mother's memory and apologize for her actions.

Calliope's cries and pleas were fading under the sound of the music that had begun to flood the place.

-----✦-----

" It hurts me " thought Calliope tired of crying,although she did not stop,she could not hold back the tears that fell from her eyes.

Hours.

She had been hours at the complete mercy of Alastor...at some point her consciousness had separated from her body when the pain in her nether parts became too unbearable and the stinging from the bites they provided that were so strong she was even bleeding from them almost seemed like Alastor would try to rip the piece of skin off with the force he used

But being eaten alive seemed like a more comforting idea than having to relive the vague and painful memories of her previous "experiences" again

He had returned to his little safe place, under the apple tree he had planted with his father some time ago...it was still young and had yet to bear fruit but the shade it produced was enough to make him want to stay under its branches to rest.

That was what she wanted to rest, to forget everything that was happening and to imagine that it was just a nightmare, a bad joke that her livelihood was playing on her.

A part of her wanted Alastor to finish at once and discard her as other demons had done in their time, while the other, the darkest and most depraved part of herself wanted him to continue, she wanted to continue to feel his hands on her body while he was destroying her in such a brutal manner.

She wanted to continue to feel the overwhelming pleasure of being touched by him.

For a moment she felt disgusted with herself as she could be enjoying something so atrocious, it was a repulsive thought that lodged in her stomach and up her throat threatening to make her vomit, but before she could continue to fight her own mind everything around her went dark.

----- ★ -----

She had finally come to her senses.

She was in her bed wearing one of her delicate silk nightgowns,the wounds were covered by gauze,she could finally breathe she almost dared to say that tranquility had reigned again,Sure if it wasn't for the burning pain that now paralyzed her body AND the strong arms that rolled over her battered body.

- Now you really have something of value to me, ma chère...I hope you behave better now - Alastor's voice snapped her out of her trance, bringing her back to reality causing her to instinctively try to pull away from Alastor but was held back as Alastor's claws pressed against her aching hip.

The air became dense as her ears were flooded with silent radio static and the screams of the poor souls who could not be saved from Alastor's clutches, it was a warning or rather a threat.

- disobey again and I will fuck you until I shatter every bone in your body and then I will devour what is left of your precious soul.... - her anxiety was triggered and all the alarms in her brain let out an alarming scream as Alastor's smile became disturbingly soft and his face leaned closer to hers...she could smell the scent of blood on his breath...the scent of his blood - understood? -

- I-I...yes...I understand - Calliope responded with a small shaky murmur, tensing as she felt Alastor's lips press a soft kiss against her forehead

- That's my sweet little doll...you know I'm not doing this because I want to hurt you, right? Honey, I love you but I can't allow such insolent behavior from you but as long as you behave yourself I promise you won't have to go through this again - the softness in his voice made her body shiver.

How could she be so calm after what had just happened, why did she feel so weak before his words, why should she believe him, why should she trust him after what he had done to her?

There were too many thoughts all at once and she was beginning to feel dizzy.

She wanted to protest and when she was determined to do so Alastor's lips captured hers in a soft kiss, her breath caught in her throat all thought of protest left her mind in an instant, replaced only by the warm feeling spreading through her chest, surprising herself as she found herself leaning into him seeking more of his touch rather than pulling away.

Alastor's strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her close but not enclosing her. He lifted a hand to cup her chin and eh tilted her head much closer to deepen the kiss slightly. Calliope's small hands clutched at the lapels of his vest as she let herself be enveloped by the promise of security that kiss gave her.

A couple of minutes passed where hell seemed to vanish, leaving only a demon whose kiss conveyed a restrained passion, a promise of love and a tenderness that surprised her. When their lips finally parted Calliope remained with her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath and calm her racing pulse she almost seemed to have forgotten all the torture she had been subjected to as a silly smile formed on her now moist lips.

Alastor found it endearing

- So...do you really love me? - he asked with unbridled emotion as the radio demon's thumb brushed his cheek with comforting circles - of course I do, how could I not love my little pet -

-----✦-----

Silly,stupid and disgusting little girl,so easy to manipulate so easy to mold to her whim he almost felt a little sorry for her.

But in the end what did it matter,at the end of the day she was his,his to do with as he pleased that her little mind was so broken as to normalize such a heinous act with just a couple of sweet words was only a bonus for his own benefit

A benefit to which she would profit.

--┈┈-┈---┈┈┈--✦ ✿ ✦--┈┈┈---┈┈-┈--

[montywithchildhoodtrauma]

Incorrect quotes because... Good Eclipse and everyone else needs therapy.

Lunar: Here you go, Moon, a nice hot cup of coffee! Moon: It's cold. Lunar: A nice cup of coffee. Moon: It's horrible! Lunar: Cup of coffee. Moon: I'm not sure if this even IS coffee. Lunar: C U P.

Bloodmoon: Why are you smiling? Rays: What? I can’t just be happy? Moon: Eclipse tripped and fell in the parking lot. Bloodmoon: *snorts*

Jigsaw: I don't know, it's not my cup of tea. Lunar: Well then whose is it? Jigsaw, staring at a cup of tea: I don't know!

Jigsaw: If we were in prison you guys would be like my bitches. Bloodmoon: ...

Eclipse: I have no respect for Santa. Don’t sneak in through the chimney and undermine my authority by bringing my family presents. Walk in through the front door and fight me like a man.

Rays: You know, I used to play back in my gory days. Sun: You mean glory days? Rays: Ah, that too.

Earth: You have an impressive pain tolerance. Rays: Thanks, it's the trauma.

Moon: Lunar, Rays, I love y’all and all, but can I ask what in the hell are you doing? Lunar, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that Rays is sitting atop: Oh nothing much. Rays: I love you too :)

Moon: You disgust me. Jigsaw: eating a kitkat sideways I realize this and don’t care.

Eclipse: Okay, help me, please! Bloodmoon: Got two words for you. Eclipse: I bet they won't be helpful. Bloodmoon: Your problem. Eclipse: I was right.

Monty: Why are Moon and Earth sitting with their backs to each other? Lunar: They had a fight. Monty: Then why are they holding hands? Lunar: They get sad when they fight.

Moon: WHO THE FUCK- KC: Whoa, language! Moon: I speak fucking English! KC: …

Lunar: I found a note in one of my old word .docs that said Note to self: Get revenge on Rays. Lunar: Except I couldn't remember what I was supposed to get revenge for. Lunar: But I trusted my own judgment, so I went with it. Rays: Hmm… I don't know what you were supposed to get revenge for, either. Lunar: I can only assume you got what was coming to you. Not 100 percent sure, though. Rays: Well, whatever I did, I guess I deserved it. Lunar: Let that possibly be a lesson to you.

Jigsaw: finds half a watermelon at Whole Foods Jigsaw, holding it up for everyone to see: LIES!

Old Moon: We are gathered here today because someone- glares at Monty’s coffin -couldn’t stay alive! Monty: muffled FUCK YOU, LET ME OUT!

Sun: So, Moon and KC. Sun: According to this, you two are being accused of: Armed Robbery, Vandalism, Drug Abuse, Grand Theft Auto… Old Moon: We had a bad day. Sun: And… MURDER?! KC: It was a pretty bad day…

Earth: You believe me? Monty: Earth, you’re the last good person on this planet (and Lunar). I‘d believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

Lunar: I will send my army to attack! Lunar: releases a dumpster of raccoons

Rays, singing (lost a bet): I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need— Moon: A better family. Monty: A better therapist. KC: Mental stability. Lunar: clueless Bagels?

Rays: The shadow realm? No, I’m sending you to Gator Golf!

Earth: Look, Lunar, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday.

KC: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Rays: Several traffic violations. Sun: Three counts of resisting arrest. Earth: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Moon: Also, that’s not our car.

Sun: Eclipse, I sense hostility. Eclipse: Good, because I hate you.

Eclipse: Be careful, I thrive on negative attention.

Moon and Sun are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff Moon: oh my god, Sun, backwards! Sun: Really, Moon? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.

Lunar: Why would you do that? Monty: Because I feel guilty. Moon: Guilt is a trick emotion. It’s put there by your parents to stop you from doing things that feel good.

Monty: Why do you act like we’re three year olds? Moon, exasperated: WHY?!? Moon points at Rays: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR! Moon points at Lunar: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK! Moon points at Monty: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND! Moon: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

Monty, trying to comfort Rays: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there. Rays: I- what?

Rays: If the thought of something makes any of you giggle for longer than 15 seconds, you are to assume you’re not allowed to do it. -to his Moon, probably.

Sun: We got a free day now. What do you wanna do? Eat? Sleep? Nap? Snack?

Rays: That sounds like a terrible plan. Moon: Oh, we've had worse.

[the-fallen-stones]

The Sunshine Kid

By Harry Baker

Old man sunshine was proud of his sun,

And it brightened his day to see his little boy run,

Not because of what he’d done, nor the problems overcome,

But that despite that his disposition remained a sunny one.

It hadn’t always been like this.

There’d been times when he’d tried to hide his brightness,

You see, every star hits periods of hardship,

It takes a brighter light to inspire them through the darkness.

If we go back to when he was born in a nebula,

We know that he never was thought of as regular,

Because he had a flair about him,

To say the Midas touch is wrong

But all he went near seemed to turn a little bronze,

Yes this sun was loved by some more than others,

It was a case of Joseph and his dreamcoat and his brothers

Because standing out from the crowd had its pros and its cons,

And jealousy created enemies in those he outshone

Such as the Shadow People.

Now the Shadow People didn’t like the Sunshine Kid,

Because he showed up the dark things the Shadow People did,

And when he shone he showed the places where the Shadow People hid,

So the Shadow People had an evil plan to get rid of him,

First up — they made fun of his sunspots,

Shooting his dreams from the sky, their words were gunshots,

Designed to remind him he wasn’t very cool

And he didn’t fit in with any popular kids at school.

They said his head was up in space and they would bring him down to Earth,

Essentially he came from nothing and that is what he was worth,

He’d never get to go to university to learn,

Only degrees he’d ever show would be the first degree burns

From those that came too close,

they told him he was too bright,

That’s why no one ever looked him in the eyes,

His judgment became clouded

So did the sky, With evaporated tears

as the sun started to cry.

Because the sunshine kid was bright, with a warm personality,

And inside he burned savagely

Hurt by the words and curses of the shadowy folk

who spoke holes in his soul and left cavities,

And as his heart hardened, his spark darkened,

Every time they called him names it cooled his flames,

He thought they might like him if he kept his light dim

But they were busy telling lightning she had terrible aim,

He couldn’t quite get to grips with what they said,

So he let his light be eclipsed by what they said,

He fell into a Lone Star State like Texas,

And felt like he’d been punched in his solar plexus.

But that’s when Little Miss Sunshine came along

Singing her favorite song about how we’re made to be strong,

And you don’t have to be wrong to belong, Just be true to who you are,

because we are all stars at heart.

Little Miss Sunshine was hot stuff,

The kind of girl when you looked at her

you forgot stuff,

But for him, there was no forgetting her,

The minute he saw her her image burned in his retina,

She was out of this world, and she accepted him,

Something about this girl meant he knew whenever she was next to him,

Things weren’t as dark as they seemed, and he dared to dream,

Shadows were nowhere to be seen; when she was there he beamed,

His eyes would light up in ways that can’t be faked,

When she grinned her rays erased the razor-tipped words of hate,

They gave each other nicknames, they were “cool star” and “fun sun,”

And gradually the shadowy damage became undone,

She was one in a septillion, and she was brilliant,

Could turn the coldest blooded reptilians vermillion,

Loved by billions, from Chileans to Brazilians,

And taught the Sunshine Kid the meaning of resilience.

She said: “All the darkness in the world

cannot put out the light from a single candle

So how the hell can they handle your light?

Only you can choose to dim it, and the sky is the limit,

so silence the critics by burning.”

And if eyes are windows to the soul then she drew back the curtains

And let the sun shine through the hurting.

In a universe of adversity these stars stuck together,

And though days became nights the memories would last forever,

Whether the weatherman said it or not, it would be fine,

‘Cause even behind the clouds the kid could still shine.

Yes, the Sunshine Kid was bright, with a warm personality,

And inside he burned savagely,

Fueled by the fire inspired across galaxies.

[ms-m-astrologer]

Transiting Mercury enters Libra

Wednesday, October 4 - Sunday, October 22, 2023

(At age 65 I am officially elderly and a senior citizen - my Gemini Sun is a bit horrified; my Aries Moon and Scorpio Ascendant are delighted - perhaps this is my first real burst of “get off my lawn” energy, but lately I’m getting very impatient about long posts on my Tumblr dashboard. So as not to be even more of a hypocrite than I usually am, I’m going to start using the “keep reading” function more frequently.)

Back to quickies for the second-speediest planet-type thingie (the Moon being swiftest). And this is something I think we should all be grateful for - all of the transits through Libra this year, have been and continue to be very challenging.

The goals of a Mercury transit through Libra are to calm the mind - to wrap our heads around seeming paradoxes - and to truly listen to other people whom we trust and love. Remember, we just went through two-plus month’s worth of Mercury/Virgo multitasking, worry, and criticism! Simply put, our brains require balance right now. Where and how this all can go wrong:

Learning - we’re lazy students; we don’t (want to) put in the effort. Going for that “gentleman’s ‘C’,” instead of doing our best. We turn away from harsher realities - if we’re prone to wearing rose-colored glasses, we probably have them permanently attached.

Thinking and reasoning - can be cold and judgmental; Libra is represented by a machine, remember. We’re too “logical” for our own good, and can rationalize away anything our consciences niggle at us with. And again, we don’t want to spend time on “unpleasant” matters. We’d rather ponder the superficial.

Communication - we tell people what (we think) they want to hear; we express ourselves too pleasantly, or conversely, we’re too addicted to arguing; because we don’t want to “rock the boat” we fail to express anything uncomfortable - anger, dread, etc. (Actually, most of us do want to rock the boat, if not outright capsize the damned thing - it’s the consequences we want to avoid.)

My recommendations:

Meditate, even if it’s a stolen half-minute in a locked toilet stall.

Identify whom you do trust - if the answer is “nobody” then find someone - open up to and be honest with them, and listen humbly to what they have to say in return.

Most of us listen in order to respond, not to understand. Google “active listening skills” and put them into practice.

I don’t consider Libra a cowardy sign by any means - Eleanor Roosevelt, for example - for in pursuit of fairness and justice, Libra can and will stand tall and brave. We need to remember that we’re always working towards the ultimate outcomes of fairness and justice - it’s a difficult and sometimes dangerous path - and it can be done.

Another difficulty: this entire transit takes place during the “shadow of the eclipse.” It may bring up some issues we can’t clear up and resolve until after the “shadow” ends on October 31. By that day, Mercury will be halfway through Scorpio, and much more empowered and able to work through its problems.

Thursday, October 5 - Mercury/Libra inconjunct Saturn Rx/Pisces. The first little sign of adjustments needing to be made. Some authority problems; we may have to let something go.

Saturday, October 7 - Mercury/Libra square Vesta/Cancer. Lack of focus - or hyper-focus; if there is a topic we’re really interested in, in a scholarly way, that’s all we want to think and talk about.

Sunday, October 8 - Mercury/Libra sesquiquad Uranus Rx/Taurus. Some kind of delay in getting what we want - perhaps we bit off more than we could chew. If we’ve been intellectually lazy, &/or glossed over things, it bites us in the butt.

Tuesday, October 10 - Mercury/Libra semi-sextile Ceres/Scorpio. Write down any deep thoughts or insights; we can address them and work through them when Mercury and Ceres are conjunct on November 4. (Spoiler alert: that’s going to be an intense day.)

Thursday, October 12:

Mercury/Libra semi-square Juno/Leo

Mercury/Libra conjunct Pallas Athene/Libra

Mercury/Libra inconjunct Jupiter Rx/Taurus

We have a really intriguing idea but (1) partners disapprove &/or (2) the timing is off. Just because an idea is intriguing doesn’t mean that it’s also good!

Friday, October 13 - Mercury/Libra sesquiquad Saturn Rx/Pisces. Eclipse eve. More delays, though in time we may reconsider the delays as being blessings in disguise.

Saturday, October 14 - Mercury/Libra opposite Chiron Rx/Aries. Eclipse day. This might manifest as an argument, or a sudden hurtful realization about ourselves or someone else.

Tuesday, October 17 - Mercury/Libra inconjunct Uranus Rx/Taurus. An adjustment we really resist having to make, especially if it’s difficult or “icky.” As we tend to have to do come election time in the US, we’re forced to choose “the lesser of two evils” and not “the best.” This distresses and disgusts us more than usual.

Wednesday, October 18 - Mercury/Libra semi-square Venus/Virgo. Mercury and Venus are in mutual reception - in each other’s sign - which strengthens what would otherwise be some petty, unimportant annoyance. Take some deep breaths; it’s temporary!

Then all hell breaks loose, on Thursday, October 19 - Friday, October 20:

Mercury/Libra opposite Eris Rx/Aries

Mercury/Libra opposite North Node/Aries, conjunct South Node/Libra

Mercury/Libra inconjunct Neptune Rx/Pisces

Mercury/Libra conjunct Sun/Libra (aka the “Superior Conjunction”)

Mercury/Libra square Pluto/Capricorn

Our ways of doing Mercury are blasted. This not-new situation (something we’ve avoided or procrastinated having to deal with) can manifest as accusations of being “too sensitive” - or “too insensitive.” Someone is screaming, we don’t like it, and we’ll do anything to stop it and shut them up. We discover that we’ve been manipulated - or someone discovers that we’ve manipulated them. Really, really dreadful news, which we could have lessened (if not prevented) if we had only had the ovaries/balls to do something about it sooner. We can’t see any of it clearly.

The resolution to a t-square can be found via the sign not represented in the main action - in this case, Cancer. We need to be a little more tribal. What’s best for the tribe? How can we nurture and protect the tribe? We need to be more sensitive and responsive to the other people in our “families;” life does not have to be all about only ourselves and our egos/vanity, all the time. It may be wiser to go with our guts, for a while.

Remember: Mercury’s transit through Scorpio will enable and empower us to address these issues successfully.

[mama-qwerty]

we're mutuals I just feel anxious saying/asking things off anon but I'm curious besides Knuckles and Wade, who are your favorite characters from other media or even in the sonic franchise? When you see these characters you go "yes, they're one of my favorites"? Maybe a top 5?

Hello Mutual Mystery Anon! You do what you feel comfortable with, you'll get no judgment from me. 😊😘

Besides Knux and Wade, I love Eclipse and Silver. Shadow is one of those "it depends on how he's portrayed" things. He was really good in Prime, and absolutely hilarious in Boom for much different reasons.

I love Mighty and the Chaotix but don't know enough about them to use them properly in my stories. I'm not up to date on the comics, but from what I've seen of Tangle and Whisper, they're pretty great.

As far as non-Sonic stuff, let's see:

Rugrats - Chuckie

Hey, Arnold! - Helga

Fairly OddParents - Wanda

MLP:FIM - the entire Apple family, but primarily Applejack (I'm pretty sure my Applejack collection is bigger than my Knuckles collection at the moment--I was flat out obsessed with that girl)

Oh, I did like Luna a lot, too

How to Train Your Dragon - Snotlout

Fosters Home For Imaginary Friends - Frankie

Doctor Who - Donna Noble

Star Wars - Ahsoka

There have been other obsessions--the Warner siblings from Animaniacs, for example--but those weren't as entrenched in my brain as Knuckles or Applejack managed to become. Those two, for some reason, just spoke to me.

I have some bits and bobs for other things in my hard drive, just little scenes that struck me, for FHfIF, InuYasha and Despicable Me.

But yeah, there ya go!