#ITS LOVES ILLUSIONS I RECALL!! I REALLY DON'T KNOW LOVE AT ALL!!

[hourgloss]

top 1 craziest thing i've ever seen in my life

[sleeplesssmoll]

More Stuff about Matilda Bouanich

Athletic

"SPDM kids are built different" theory confirmed. Just like Sonetto and Vertin, Matilda is also freakishly athletic. For Example, she jumps straight over a wall with no assistance. She's also very tough! She doesn't seem to be as resilient as Sonetto and Vertin (squishier and takes more damage) but even as she's bleeding, she will endure. Disclaimer: this ends up being an illusion but her taking on waves of enemies despite being bloodied says a lot about her character.

Stupidly Fearless

Falling asleep at a train station, walking down a dark tunnel on her own, Matilda really is wandering into dangerous situations like a lost duckling. I love how Shamane, Kaalaa, and Kanjira adopted the little duck and became her guides. Also, reminder she is a baby at only 14. She's younger than Sonetto and Vertin, but she is equally as brave. She's also vulnerable because of this. Her wallet was stolen multiple times and she puts herself in precarious situations.

Milky Blonde

They describe her hair as "milky blonde" which is just really cute to me.

Generous

Matilda always had a big heart. We saw it during the break-away event when she helped Vertin escape because she wanted to help her friend, even if she had no intention of following Vertin herself. She also gave Vertin the earrings the kids used to communicate with each other during their plan. She still has that generous side where she will willingly give away things and volunteer to help others. Not wanting to dirty Kanjira's skirt, giving Kaalaa her crytal, and overall helping the group in anyway she can. There are so many examples in the event!

Serious about Divination

Just like she did for Sonetto, Matilda guides people in a gentle voice we don't normally hear when she is divining. She is also extremely talented. She talks about being a genius all the time, but its true. Kaalaa and Kumar are both impressed by her.

Other Skills

Matilda knows first-aid and carries around an SPF 1 Portable Contact Device that allows her to call for back-up. She's also a quick thinker. Her thought process isn't as streamlined as Sonetto's (she mutters to herself and stumbles sometimes), but she recalls her guides and teachings and applies them to her situations.

Appreciation

I loved seeing Matilda shine in this event and the last one. We see her make friends, bring up ideas, and just being a fun character in general. For example, her interactions with the sly Kanjira and the oblivious Jessica are hilarious! Her admiration for Kaalaa also shows another side of her. She is confident, but she recognizes brilliance in others. Shamane is just a treat in this event too. We must thank this man for looking after the duckling and the danger noodle (Kanjira is a snake). For all her talk, Matilda doesn't try to impose herself as a leader. Instead, we've seen her in the main story and in the events take on supportive roles. She's a good friend. Normally I'm all for pining, but I think the story is much stronger because it excluded it. This allowed Matilda to show more sides of herself. While I'm partial to events with my beloved Vertin in them, if she and Sonetto were in this event I wouldn't be able to appreciate Matilduck!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Rose-Red Ruler.

Happy birthday, our most beloved Queen of Hearts.

May your smile be like a never fading flower.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

A soft knock is at his door.

Riddle tears away from his current textbook--a volume of advanced potions, open to Recipe for Happiness. On the list of ingredients were faith, trust, a little pixie dust, and...

"Come in," he calls, letting the contents of the book fall from his memory.

His mother enters, bearing a tray with a tall pitcher and a glass. As usual, her hair is pulled back into a tight bun and she is dressed impeccably: a scarlet pantsuit, heels, black lace gloves, and a necklace drawn tight across her neck, creating the illusion of beading blood. Mrs. Rosehearts gives her son a stern yet warm smile.

"Happy birthday, Riddle. You're still studying, even on your big day?"

"Yes, mother. This will be the year I apply for internships, so I cannot afford to slack off in my studies. I want to ensure I am the strongest possible candidate for the law and medical internships I'm interested in."

She nods approvingly, setting the tray upon his desk. "It's good to be thinking about your future now--but be sure to take breaks when appropriate. I've brought you some Darjeeling, first flush. Its light and delicate flavor is perfectly refreshing for a sweltering day."

Mrs. Rosehearts starts to pour the chilled tea for him. Right as the aromatic, golden brown stream ceases, she lets out a small gasp. "Ah, yes--your schedule is open tonight, correct? Your father will be fetching a strawberry tart on his way home from work, and I've prepared all your favorite foods. You can eat as much as you like!"

Riddle's stomach flutters.

There are so many things wrong with what she has said, but he exclaims the first question to emerge in his mind.

"We're having a celebration? Together?"

"Of course we are. It's your birthday," his mom replies plainly. "Why wouldn't we celebrate our special little boy?"

"I... I don't know," Riddle confesses. For reasons he cannot explain, his head suddenly feels foggy. "I just can't recall the last time we did something like this as a family."

You've never seemed happy with one another.

He does not dare say it out loud.

Mrs. Rosehearts carefully regards her child.

"Certainly, your father and I have very busy schedules on account of our work at the hospital. You've immersed yourself in your schoolwork. It can be difficult making plans that align with all three of us--but we make time to spend with our loved ones."

Mrs. Rosehearts leans down and plants a feathery kiss on his head, a hand lovingly stroking his hair. So soft, so tender. She smells of roses on a bed of vanilla and amber, the same heady comfort as the exhilaration of collapsing, out of breath, after spinning in circles in the summertime.

The frantic thudding in Riddle's chest slows. He leans into her touch, her fragrance.

"Okay," he says quietly. A slight wetness prickles his vision. "I think... I'd really like that, mom."

He stays there, in her embrace, for longer than he thinks he should. The minutes are slipping away from him, but Riddle cannot bring himself to pull away. The cradle of roses is enchanting, spilling wool over his eyes.

He is completely, utterly, certifiably entranced.

Ding-dong!

Mrs. Rosehearts lifts her head. "Hm? That's strange. That can't be your father. He doesn't get out of work for at least another hour--and he wouldn't need to ring the doorbell, he has his keys."

"It is odd," Riddle agrees.

"Excuse me, it will take just a moment to check. Perhaps it's the mailman."

Mrs. Rosehearts gathers herself and departs. From the study, Riddle can hear the front door swinging open, followed by muffled chatter. Excited, boyish.

His mother's voice, raising.

Dread fills him.

He abruptly stands, his chair harshly skidding back with an unpleasant whine.

Riddle races into the hallway and to the foyer. He's not sure which is faster: his heart, or his feet? His mind struggles to catch up, to process everything--

The front door is ajar.

His mother, on one side. And on the other...

Two young men.

One with short hair in dark green and bright yellow eyes peering out from behind thick frames. He holds a hefty cake in his hands--a shortcake iced in whipped cream frosting. The strawberries piled on top shine like forbidden jewels.

Beside him is a boy with choppy bangs, a pair of feline ears bearing a plethora of earrings pokes out from his head. He has a lazy grin and disheveled clothes, reclining like a sunbathing cat against the first visitor.

His friends spot him before his mom does, and their faces light up.

"Uh-oh, guess the cat's out of the bag now," Che'nya giggles.

"Wh-What are you two doing here?!" Riddle demands. Not angry, but fearful. He nervously glances at Trey--Trey, whom his mother had angrily banished from their home until the end of time.

"We wanted to drop by and surprise you," Trey explains. He's too calm for this situation--especially when Mrs. Rosehearts is standing right there.

Any minute now, Riddle suspects she will explode. She will scream at Trey and Che'nya until she is a darker red than her hair. She will slam the door in their faces. She will threaten to call the police. She will--

"Riddle, you didn't tell me your friends would be joining us this evening!" Mrs. Rosehearts beams, stepping aside and waving for the boys to enter. "Please, come in! You can spend some time together before dinner.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Myaaa-uch appreciated!”

Trey and Che’nya cross the threshold with ease.

Riddle blinks. “But what about my studies…?”

“Studies? At a time like this?” Trey gives a light laugh. “We’re not at school, Riddle. You can relax a little. Just let me put this cake away and then we can all hang out, okay?”

“My father is already going to be bringing a tart later…”

“Oooh, double the desserts? Don’t mind if I do! I’ll swipe two slices of both.”

“Don’t be greedy, Che’nya! You have to save some for the rest of us, especially the birthday boy.”

“Me?” Riddle’s brows crease. “I…”

“It’s fine,” his mother coaxes. “Go and be with your friends.”

“Is that okay? Is that… really, really okay?”

Mrs. Rosehearts steps toward him, taking his hands in hers. Her eyes are dewey, and her face looks more gentle than he has ever seen it.

“Yes. This is your youth, Riddle. You only live once—so live this life to its fullest. If you could promise me that, then nothing would make me happier.”

“Mother…!”

Riddle tugs her into a hug. It is fast, it is fleeting, it is a flicker of light peeking through a keyhole. He opens that locked door and emerges on the other end.

He chokes out his response.

Two simple words, carrying all his hopes and dreams.

“I promise.”

And for the first time in forever, he smiles with all of his heart.

But beyond the happy boy, cheeks streaked with tears, beyond the door that divided him from the world... a shadow hides in the shade of a rose tree.

It looks on, and smiles too.

"... It appears as though Rosehearts has have found his happily ever after at long last, fufu. How wonderful.”

[daisys-reality]

Hello miss daisy, I just read something on your blog that mentions the fact that time isn't real. I just love this concept, I vividly remember reading similar stuff elsewhere, long ago. I'd love to read up on this concept more, could you please suggest resources, scientific, mythological, really anything. I am quite fascinated with the concepts of Time and Death.

Thank you,

Artyom.Dmitry

Time - Is it real or just an illusion? - It is both.

Hi artyom.dmitry, I can't think of any specific literature from the top of my head right now that tals about these topics AND is worth reading. I would have to do some research first (I might add some suggestions to this post at a later time).

I'm not sure where you're coming from (mentally) - whether you're a part of the shifting community or not - and what level of understanding you have of those topics but I want to clarify that I'm a shifter and have been active in the spiritual/esoteric community for many years. So, my opinions and perceptions of this world have been influenced and shaped by this (just to give you head ups). You might not agree or see the things I do but that's ok. No one is being forced here to accept anything as their beliefs because there is no 'one general truth'.

So, I think there are two things that we should talk about. First, the issue with the concept itself but it's realness in this reality. Second, the concept losing its meaning and importance in the face of manifestation and reality shifting and therefore just posing as an "illusion".

But let's start from the beginning and let's recall what the original usage of the concept of time and therefore its reason for existence is:

As we all know the concept of "time" is human made. It is something we decided on and categorised into units like: years, months, minutes, seconds to understand our existence on this earth. We based this on what we perceived to happen in our closest environment (sun/moon=day/night time, moon phases = months, repeated changes of the weather = season & year,...). With the creation of this concept we had the intention to use it as a tool. A tool to improve communication between other humans, to improve the ability to plan (when to hunt, when to meet up again, when to go to sleep, when to do xyz) and to improve our understanding of what is happening around us because our life was so closely linked with nature - understanding the nature/earth was detrimental to our surviving.

So, creating the concept of time actually improved the life of our ancestors. We gave our life a structure. And where there is a structure, improvements can be made. We humans are eager to understand and analyse things with the intention to improve. In that sense we're greedy beings - always striving for 'more' and 'better'.

I think that our ancestors had a better understanding & feeling of this concept "time" than we do now. Ex., in many cultures different types of calendars (much closer linked with nature's rhythm) were used but once humans were able to communicate & connect on a more global level - the idea of generalisation & standardisation were on the rise (as further tools to improve life). And of course, capitalism is thriving on this. (We are even selling "our time" for money now!! This is actually crazy the more you think about it. We have been brainwashed by our own society to normalize this!) Time nowadays is not really based on nature anymore as it has been in the past and it's messing with our own human life experience. As nature changes (naturally, but obviously also because of global warming) we should have actually started adapting our concepts of time as well. But we don't. And probably won't any time soon. Because time is something integrated in so many other concepts and human made systems (or it's even even the foundation of those) that changing the concept of time would mean having to adapt everything else. And we all know how those humans on top of our systems (I'm looking at u politicians -_-) love to keep outdated systems alive (even if they don't seem to be as effective anymore) instead of being more innovative... just because of money, reputation and personal comfort... the world we live in 😞...

The concept of time that we have right now is linked to our reality that we percieve here - therefore it is is very much real. HOWEVER, as other realities may have other laws of physics they may also have different concepts of time. With reality shifting (and manifesting as well) you transcend this concept during the act of shifting (/manifesting) therefore it loses its importance and meaning as a "conditioning" or "restrictive aspect of life" -> Time exists as an effective concept in this reality but you are not limited to this reality's concept of time! We thinking that we are limited by it is a (self made) illusion. One a side note, the fact that we're starting to explore further abilities of our consciousness can be considered a sign of evolution. - I hope all of that made sense!

[kyouka-supremacy]

Ok here's how Atsushi can still get major character development via shin soukoku. Akutagawa is attacking Atsushi, but stops because he's becoming aware of himself. He's standing still, then looks up and his eyes are normal again. Atsushi smiles in relief, but then sees Fukuzawa is right behind Akutagawa, swinging his blade to get rid of his "defective tool."

And then its like slow motion, and we see Atsushi's thoughts as he moves forward, along the lines of, "Ah. I get it, now. Why Akutagawa saved me." He pushes Akutagawa down and away from Fukuzawa, but doesn't have enough time to dodge for himself. Atsushi's thoughts come up again, "I didn't realize it until now. That I really-" and then we see a large blood splatter on the ground, Akutagawa's horrified face, and Aya's screams cover the rest of the page.

(In my little scenario, we see the shadow of Atsushi's body without a head, calling back to Fukuzawa's comment in chapter 83.5. Akutagawa then violently kills Fukuzawa in blind rage and grief, stabbing through him a bunch like he did to Margaret but a lot more gorey. Then we see Tanizaki emerge holding Atsushi, alive, and the illusion of Atsushi's dead body disappears).

Sskk can still win i swear (smiling through the tears)

I'm proposing

This was such a ride oh my God. I swear to you there's NOTHING ///NOTHING/// better than the feeling of opening the askbox to an ask starting per “Ok here's how Atsushi can still get major character development via shin soukoku” followed by long text. I could get addicted to this.

“I didn't realize it until now. That I really-” is the new “You know the reason yourself don't you”. Like, it's just perfect in everything. You can't imagine how much I'd ADORE to have Atsushi return the favour and sacrifice himself for Akutagwa!!!! Like seriously peoples listen to me. Sskk is ALL about mirroring each other and story repeating itself and I NEED THIS FROM ATSUSHI. I need this growth for him I need Akutagawa to have changed him just as deeply and thoroughly as Atsushi changed Akutagawa. I need Atsushi to save Akutagawa I need Atsushi to require his love I need the circular narrative I NEED THEM. Like Atsushi looking up AND recognizing Akutagawa’s eyes AND smiling? The whole thing about him looking at Akutagawa's eyes and seeing Akutagawa in them - his Akutagawa - and that eliciting pure joy in Atsushi. The fact that Akutagawa is now okay and he can feel him by his side again and can feel his warmth and knows that he's okay. Atsushi being relieved beyond words for Akutagawa being safe. I’m so weak for them I’m going to faint. But seriously all theories aside after this I NEED Akutagawa to snap out of the vampire curse due to the power of love. I’m sorry, peoples' too good theories for my own good set my bar too high and now I need them to make out on screen by the end of this arc otherwise I'll die.

You’re right about everything I swear.  Akutagawa's horrified face I SWEAR it's such a relevant, precious? side of how his feelings for Atsushi effect him, how they make him experience a range of emotions - terror and care and dread and love and horror – that he //literally// never experienced before. And Akutagawa killing Fukuchi on the spot after he thinks Atsushi is dead- just, yes. As a side note, that’s exactly how the Beast version of chapters 84-88 would play out for me. Akutagawa's fury for losing Atsushi... The thing is, one would think that Akutagawa's death is tragic, but I believe that for him having to live in a world without Atsushi would be a way crueler fate. And it would be… kind of meaningful to bring a Tanizaki produced dead Atsushi illusion to the equation, as it would make a nice parallel to him doing it in chapter 4; a recall to how much Akutagawa has grown since then, from causing harm to Atsushi and trying to kill him, to being so inconsolably upset by his death he'd completely lose control and kill someone else for him. And this is the same “I'll kill you in six months” guy. What a loser

THANK YOU FOR YOUR PROMPTS they give me life please don't stop

[nicholsroy]

IN CONVERSATION ✉️

Stream of consciousness | 1,123 words

Originally shared on my main blog on 22-03-24.

I'm told my friend is visiting today.

He visits once a month, on the dot. Tries to, at least. When my will and that of the swine overlords allow it; when boredom or restlessness or the fleeting desire to see a man who thinks I hung the stars coincide with his schedule. When all necessary factors align like celestial bodies in a ritual, I suppose. I see him then.

He visits more than anyone else. More than my father, my wannabe stepmother, my doting long-distance grandmother. Certainly more than the other losers on the outside who've long since abandoned their misguided notions of me. Don’t misunderstand me - I appreciate his dedication, foolish and perplexing though I may find it. Considering how little I offer in return, it’s impressive.

He loves me, you see.

We were close, once, in a sense. I’m sure he recalls it that way. I’m skilled in the art of beautiful illusions; I cannot provide “close,” but I can craft a convincing approximation, which can be useful. It can even be fun. With him, it was often fun. But it’s been years, now, and still he clings to me like a pathetic, starving puppy I cannot shake from my leg. I don't always want to, but sometimes, I do. I find myself of two minds today, like bouncing on a seesaw. Ambivalence declawed.

And so, shortly before the scheduled time, I’m led through the security checks. Clearance obtained, a C.O. takes me down to the basement floor, down a Silence of the Lambs-esque hallway, to the gray-walled room, seventh door on the right from the clanking, rusting metal staircase.

He’s already there when we walk in, as always, sitting stiffly at a table along the far wall, near the vending machines. The room isn’t busy, I note. The wall clock above his head reveals I’m here hours earlier than usual.

Today's escort, Stella, leads me directly to the table. She’s on a power trip, but she's not hard on the eyes - though the whole ‘glorified mall cop’ aspect ruins it. With a pointed glance she tells me, sternly, “You have an hour.”

“Yes, Mama,” I mutter - sardonically, under my breath - as she walks off. It’s doubtful she heard me, but I don’t particularly care either way.

My sorry bastard of a friend, on the other hand, definitely heard me. He chuckles as he stands. “Behave,” he says, in jest.

I grin, self-mocking. "You heard nothing."

As always, I feign enthusiasm, pulling him into a brief, casual embrace. Yet his arms always hold me a little too long, and squeeze a little too tightly. He thinks I don’t know. It’s hilarious. It’s revolting. On occasion, I’ve begun to regret creating this monster, I think. I think perhaps that’s the expected response.

We sit across from each other at the little white table. He looks at me, smiling. I can tell he still tastes me when he swallows, a nagging aftertaste at the back of his throat.

"How are you?" he asks.

“Sleepy,” I reply, elbow on the table, chin resting in my open palm. “Why’d you come so early?”

He shrugs. “Sorry. Have to be in shape for work on Monday.”

"Still at the same place?"

"Yeah, same place."

A loud pause that bounces off the walls. Around the room three other tables are occupied, out of about twelve. It’s quiet enough that I can overhear voices, but we’re spread out enough that I can’t make out words. For their sake, I hope their conversation partners are more interesting than mine. A shame, really. He once worked so hard for my attention, but I suppose he’s lost himself over time.

“What’s new?” he asks, breaking the silence. Squirming, though he tries to hide it. It’s like he scrambles to find words in a mess of strewn-about letters. What’s wrong, hm? They used to come so easily.

I lean back in my chair, draping an arm lazily about its back. “Oh, same old, same old.”

"Still working?" he asks.

“Yeah. They’ll throw me in the hole if I don’t.”

"Right."

The inside of my brain feels like watching paint dry.

"How's the wife?" I ask.

He smiles. “She’s good.”

“She know you're here right now?"

His brow dips infinitesimally, like he caught himself a split-second too late. He’s so predictable. It bores me.

“Yeah,” he finally says. “Why wouldn’t she?”

I shrug. Smile. “Dunno. Just figured maybe you wanted it to be our little secret.”

Another pause, delectably tense. His flustered eyes shift downward; mine dart, furtively, to the wall clock to my left. It’s not that I mind the visits, necessarily. They occupy me for an hour - sometimes longer, depending on who’s watching the room - and add variety to a monotone routine too rarely peppered by fleeting chaos. Often, though, the journey to and from the visitation room ends up being the most interesting part. He was entertaining, once, in another time, but now, it’s like he restrains himself. Sometimes I really do wish he would leave for good. It’s not like he has much to offer me now, especially as it seems even our conversations have turned grayscale.

“The table isn’t level,” he comments suddenly.

I force a dry laugh. “No shit. We’re lucky if they stand up at all.”

I glance at the clock again, wanting fleetingly to call the officer over so I can leave - if only so that the walk back upstairs might provide a moment’s respite from the unrelenting, creepy-crawling boredom. It doesn’t bother me that much, to tell you the truth. It isn’t uncomfortable, per se. It’s just always there, near the lower end of my awareness threshold - a low hum, a background conversation that you overhear, but that doesn’t quite capture you.

With an hour spent in mostly dull, meaningless chatter, he finally rises to leave. We hug again - briefly, ceremoniously. He says ‘bye,’ I say ‘see you next time.’

As I’m led from the room, back up the metal stairs and toward a different flavor of boredom, I wonder, bemused, if the expected response might be to take pity on my friend. But why should I? Why should he take it so personally? Why is that my problem? It's not like I get off on being cruel. It's not that I want to not care. I just don’t. Perhaps things would have worked out for him if I were naïve, if I did not know to be ruthless in taking what I want because it’s the only way I will ever get it.

It’s a shame, for him, sure. It's just no one’s fault, but the way of the world. Only the strong survive.

[apollotarot]

♓️🌝 The Most Majestic Tarot Spread For 2023's Full Moon In Pisces

Before diving into the Full Moon in Pisces Tarot Spread, explore Molly McCord's enlightening insights in her YouTube video "Pisces Full Moon - Integrating More of Your Intuition Into Your Responsibilities¹." We've distilled key takeaways from her discourse on the upcoming August 30th, 2023, Pisces Full Moon. Discover the interplay between intuition and responsibility and the significance of this celestial event in shaping our path.

Unveiling the Mysteries: Navigating the Pisces Full Moon of August 2023 🌕🌟

The Dance of Moon and Sun:

As the moon takes its position at seven degrees of Pisces, it directly opposes the Sun at seven degrees of Virgo. The moon reaches its peak brilliance during the full moon, illuminating aspects of our existence hidden in the shadows. Dive deep into your astrological chart, identify the presence of seven degrees in your placements, and open yourself to the cosmic messages being delivered. 🌝🌞✉️

Pisces Moon's Whispering Intuition:

The moon's placement in Pisces infuses the atmosphere with sensitivity, intuition, and a yearning for solitude. This is a time to embrace your internal world, listen closely to your soul's whispers, and trust the feelings that arise, even when they're intangible. The Pisces moon beckons you to connect with the essence of your being and honor the importance of quiet contemplation. 🌊🤫🧘‍♀️

Virgo Sun's Analytical Gaze:

In contrast, the Sun in Virgo brings forth its practical, analytical energy. Rooted in Earth, Virgo's energy urges us to adapt, analyze, and diligently attend to our responsibilities. This energy calls for a harmonious balance between intuitive Pisces and methodical Virgo, creating a synergy that guides us toward informed decisions and grounded actions. 🌍🔍💼

Saturn's Karmic Influence:

Saturn stands at the heart of this celestial ballet, stationed at three degrees of Pisces in retrograde motion. Saturn reminds us of our energetic responsibilities, unfinished tasks, and the karmic threads that need attention. The Pisces Full Moon aligns with Saturn, bringing forgotten matters back into focus. This conjunction provides an opportunity for self-awareness, growth, and releasing what no longer serves us. ⏳🪶🌱

Facing Uncertainty and Finding Guidance:

This cosmic convergence may stir feelings of uncertainty and even vulnerability. The moon's connection with Saturn might lead us to question our path, causing feelings of isolation and powerlessness. However, remember that this discomfort is a catalyst for growth. Embrace the energy as a gentle nudge from the universe, encouraging you to trust your intuition, even when you can't see the bigger picture. 🤔💫🚀

Embracing Humility and Wisdom:

Amid the uncertainty, the Pisces Full Moon encourages humility. Acknowledge that you don't have all the answers, and that's perfectly okay. The song "Both Sides Now" by Joni Mitchell resonates with the essence of this moment, reminding us to remain open to new experiences and wisdom. Trust your soul's guidance, even amidst life's uncertainties. 🎶🌄🌠

"I've looked at love from both sides now From give and take and still somehow It's love's illusions that I recall I really don't know love Really don't know love at all."

Integration of Spiritual Wisdom:

This full moon sheds light on integrating your spiritual self into your daily reality. Let your intuition and inner wisdom become guiding lights, aiding you in navigating the complex energies swirling around. Your spiritual muscles have been developing, urging you to embrace your intuitive gifts and use them as a compass through the storms of life. 🌟🧠💡

Balancing Practicality and Spirituality:

The harmonious dance between Virgo and Pisces, practicality and spirituality, invites you to be responsible with your energy and intuitive insights. This energy is a call to action, a push to address pending matters and trust your internal compass. Consider seeking physical, tangible support for your journey as the angelic essence of Pisces embraces you. 🤝👼🌄

Conclusion:

As the Pisces Full Moon graces the cosmos, it reminds you to trust your intuition and inner wisdom, even amidst uncertainty. Embrace the dance between the practical and the mystical, and find solace in the unknown. This celestial event encourages us to release what no longer serves us, honor our responsibilities, and navigate life with humility and spiritual strength. 🌕🌌🔮

Reference:

McCord, Molly. "Pisces Full Moon - Integrating More of Your Intuition Into Your Responsibilities - 2023 Astrology." YouTube, uploaded by Molly McCord, August 20th, 2023, https://youtu.be/3ucCVMPwMEo.

🌝♓️ Full Moon in Pisces 2023 Tarot Spread

Now that we know the profound energies surrounding the upcoming Pisces Full Moon, let's delve deeper into its mysteries with a specially designed tarot spread. This spread is crafted to illuminate the hidden facets of your existence, guide you through the dance between intuition and practicality, and empower you to embrace uncertainty with humility and wisdom. Each card is vital to unlocking the insights the cosmos wishes to reveal during this celestial event.

Are you ready to embark on a journey of self-discovery and cosmic alignment? Shuffle your deck, lay out the cards, and let the celestial dance guide you through this transformative spread.

Card 1: The Dance of the Moon and Sun

Question: How can I illuminate hidden aspects of my existence during this Pisces Full Moon?

Card 2: Pisces Moon's Whispering Intuition

Question: How can I best embrace my sensitivity and intuition during this moon phase?

Card 3: Virgo Sun's Analytical Gaze

Question: How can I balance practicality and intuition in my decision-making process?

Card 4: Saturn's Karmic Influence

Question: What unfinished tasks or karmic lessons should I focus on during this Pisces Full Moon?

Card 5: Facing Uncertainty and Finding Guidance

Question: How can I navigate uncertainty and vulnerability with grace and trust?

Card 6: Embracing Humility and Wisdom

Question: How can I embrace humility and trust my inner wisdom even in uncertain times?

As you lay out each card, remember that this spread is a cosmic tool guiding you through the complexities of this celestial event. Allow the tarot's wisdom to merge with your intuition, creating a bridge between the earthly and the ethereal. Your path is illuminated, and the universe's whispers are ready to be heard.

[dookasx]

Stalker 2 Nov 22nd Journal Entry

My experience in Stalker 2 is staying strong, I'll skip explaining the tense shootouts I took part in as Day 1 was largely dedicated to that subject. However I'll just use this as a blanket note that I took part in a lot of those kinds of situations.

None of them were as dire as my tactical takeover of the Eastern Checkpoint. However, that isn't to say no struggles were had! I still am using pretty shoddy equipment so there's no chance of run and gunning my way through The Zone for quite a while. That alone demands, I put some effort into all of these assaults.

Relatedly, I'm finding that the enemies in Stalker 2 absolutely love using grenades. This may be a symptom of the game's apparently rather broken AI systems and director (it's not bothering me yet as a player so my apologies if I don't talk much about this). It also may be caused by my absolute insistence on using cover and attempting to maximize my safety in an encounter. Regardless the end result is that I'm finding myself not allowed to rest on my laurels in engagements. If I'm taking it optimally, I may be able to avoid a situation in which they're lobbing bombs at me, but in all other cases I'm finding that I need to stay on my toes 24/7.

What I want to focus on for today, is a point of interest I found and my solid little adventure spent picking it apart. It started with me spotting a handful of electric anomalies, as I approached my echo detector started blipping which meant I knew I had to see what was up in hopes of finding an artifact. In my attempts to follow the trail to the treasure, I started getting yelled at by a fellow stalker. Apparently he got himself stuck in the field of anomalies and needed to be guided out of it. I indulged, and helped him out. It was a fun little diversion from my hunt and he rewarded me with an entirely unrelated artifact for my trouble.

Continuing the hunt, I came upon a little building. Thinking maybe I'll find the artifact I'm looking for I entered said building and didn't find what I was looking for. Instead I came across a safe of loot, locked behind a panel that required a code I didn't know. This set me on a secondary hunt within the same little area.

After some effort I found the code, looted the stash, then kept searching around and eventually found the initial artifact I was looking for.

The point of this little story is to illustrate the kind of thing that I really enjoy about these games. Sure, the whole thing was scripted, GSC clearly expected players to stumble into these events probably in this order. However, that doesn't detract from what made me as the player feel like I was solving the puzzles of the world.

I was presented with a micro sandbox of things to do, and got to do them in a natural feeling order. That feeling is what matters above all else. If the illusion of emergent discovery is maintained while playing the game, then the game is doing its job entirely well. And in that moment I was fully immersed, completely excited after each new fold emerged in my time spent at the Electric Field.

And potentially more important, depending on who you are as a player. I came away from this plenty rewarded. Two artifacts which sold for some good cash, and a nice stockpile of general supplies.

That's only one of the many interesting PoIs I found today. It may not even have been the most noteworthy, I can recall a handful that may have been more exciting, but made for worse stories. This session was when I first left the Lesser Zone, and am slowly making my way into the meat of Stalker 2's world. Though based on the map I see, there's going to be a helluva lot of meat to chew through, and so far this meat tastes very good.

[tihgnari]

๑ [ 06 ] you're thinking of groot, aren't you?

word count: 990 / tw: cursing, violence (?)

the arts and sciences building's study hall used to be your favorite place in the whole university. its windows are always open to let the cool breeze inside during the summer, and you adore the silver christmas lights the staff sets up every winter.

you especially loved how eating in the study hall wasn't prohibited. you recall a certain memory from last year when you and xiao got banned from the library for the rest of the school year for eating instant ramen during an all-nighter's study date session.

you sighed.

"what's gotten you sighing and looking out the window like you're a second lead in a romance movie?"

your glare doesn't exactly work on hu tao, who thinks you're as threatening as the cute pet she has back home with her parents.

she dumps her bag on the table before staring at you with narrowed eyes. "if i know any better… you're thinking of groot, aren't you?"

a few students turned their heads in a totally not judging way at your table. you blink, flustered, not because of the embarrassment of feeling other people's stare, but because "groot" is merely a pseudonym and you know perfectly well she's not talking about the plant-like character from guardian's of the galaxy.

your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes back to the window. "am not! i'm just thinking about how izumi and i are gonna work things out when we clearly dislike each other."

"dislike is an understatement. that leech absolutely hates you."

and just like that you fell into your usual banter with hu tao. there's 30 minutes more until xingqiu and xiangling are done with their AM classes, so you and your best friend busy yourselves with some readings before the daily lunch date with the shade throwers (and xingqiu).

it wasn't until the clock struck 12pm that hu tao shut off her laptop and cleared her throat, pinning her eyes on you, praying xingqiu and xiangling doesn't arrive until after she's had this talk with you.

"so," she starts, getting your attention. "what really happened earlier?"

you stiffen, the cool exterior shattering for a nanosecond until you're composing yourself again.

if hu tao didn't have years of being your best friend under her belt, she never would've noticed the discomfort in your eyes. you mask your emotions well, she'll give you that, but hu tao knows you like the back of her hand. it was one of the things xiao lacked when you were still dating. unlike hu tao, xiao can never read you no matter how hard he tried, and maybe that's one of the reasons why he left you.

"i already told you what happened –"

"and i want the truth."

you and the brunette fell into a staring contest. a battle of stubbornness as you stare each other down, willing the other person to give up. but alas, being stubborn is a talent hu tao has possessed since you were little kids.

you narrowed your eyes. leaning back against the chair with your arms crossed over your chest. "what gave you the illusion that i didn't tell you the truth?"

"a little birdy."

"what's their name?"

"big bird."

"that doesn't even make sense!"

you groan, burying your face in your hands as hu tao smiles innocently.

"alright! fine…" your voice drops to a whisper. "xiao shoved me into one of the tables and – wait, why don't you look surprised? you already know didn't you?"

hu tao shrugged. "i don't know… do i?"

you almost flipped the table.

"are you mad?" you ask, packing your laptop inside your bag.

"more like insulted because you actually thought you can get away with lying to me. me – you're ultra mega super duper best friend!" she sighed, pinning you with a stare. "don't sweat it. if anything, i'm more angry at xiao for laying a hand on you."

"he didn't –"

"nasty bruise you got on your arm there, where'd you get it?"

you huff, looking away as you tug the sleeves of your hoodie down.

you see a flash of blue hair and you nod towards the entrance, signaling hu tao as you sling your bag over your shoulder. "come on, the rest of the gang's here."

you return the eager wave xiangling gives you with a fond smile before looking back at hu tao, who's chucking the rest of her things into her bag.

"promise me you won't do anything rash? if you get suspended again, i swear to god –"

"i won't. i promise."

she sighs, putting up her pinky.

you stare at her suspiciously before tangling your pinky with hers. you weave through chairs and tables, making your way to the duo standing by the entrance.

"for the record, i don't believe you."

"oh, please! when have i ever let you down?"

you roll your eyes, muttering about that one time she ditched you in the convenience store back in your home town and was forced to pay for whatever she took off the racks.

too immersed in your story-telling, you fail to notice hu tao has stopped walking in the middle of the study hall. by the time you spun around to see her reaction, she was half-way across the room, walking towards–

"no, hu tao wait –!"

"xiao, you fucking moron!"

crash!

the study hall went silent.

you open your mouth to reprimand hu tao, still half-stunned over the stunt she pulled but a certain cherry-haired girl had beaten you to it.

"HOW DARE YOU PUNCH MY BOYFRIEND!"

GOOD 4 U » previous : masterlist : next

a xiao! genshin impact social media au!

๑ summary — lesson learned! never challenge hu tao when you're drunk bc you'll just lose and now you have to post a thread of all your exes as songs from olivia rodrigo's hit debut album sour … or: "yn desperate much!" "yn still loves xiao? yikes! doesn't he already have someone new?" "stop ruining my relationship u bitch!"

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift review, Fearless (Taylor’s Version) – Wisely not trying to rewrite history

Swift’s re-recorded versions of her 2008 album is a timely reminder of some of the best pop songs committed to record

4/5 STARTS

By Alexandra Pollard

Taylor Swift has made a point, not a new album.

In order to wrestle it from the clutches of Scooter Braun, the singer-songwriter has re-recorded, word for word and note for note, 2008's Fearless.

It is a complicated backstory, but the crux of it is this: when she was 15, Swift signed a 13-year deal with record label Big Machine that gave them ownership over all her future master recordings. When she was 28 and one of the biggest pop stars on the planet, she signed a new deal with a different label, and Big Machine sold those rights to Scooter Braun, a man she claimed had bullied her for years.

Since 2019, Braun has had ownership of and control over Swift’s first six albums. “This is what happens when you sign a deal at 15 to someone for whom the term ‘loyalty’ is clearly just a contractual concept,” she wrote in a lengthy Instagram post at the time. “And when that man says ‘Music has value’, he means its value is beholden to men who had no part in creating it.” And so Swift announced her intention to re-record every single song that Braun now owned.

She has begun with her second album, Fearless. Pointedly named Fearless (Taylor’s Version), this is not a new take, remix or reimagining. Tracks such as the Romeo and Juliet-inspired country ballad “Love Story” and the lilting pop song “You Belong With Me” remain almost exactly the same, each banjo note, guitar chord and harmony painstakingly reconstructed. I had wondered if she might use the opportunity to tweak things here and there – “You Belong With Me” aims very un-2021 barbs at a love interest’s current girlfriend – but wisely, she has not tried to rewrite history.

This is the perfect moment for Fearless (Taylor’s Version): there’s no time like a pandemic to be given a dose of nostalgia, and it’s nice to have a refresher of some of the best pop songs committed to record. Even the six “from the vault” tracks that didn’t make the cut first time round feel oddly comforting. “We Were Happy”, with its strings, wistful guitar and lush harmonies (courtesy of Keith Urban), is just lovely. “Mr Perfectly Fine”, meanwhile, slots perfectly into the late-Noughties country pop vibe, helped along by the fact it was supposedly written about a months-long relationship with Joe Jonas (on Instagram, his now-wife Sophie Turner described the song as “not NOT a bop”). These new tracks allow Swift to unleash, for old time’s sake, that “mortally wronged-in-love” persona she wore so well but has quietly retired. She’s recruited shiny young popstars Olivia Rodrigo and Conan Grey in the album’s marketing campaign – a canny reminder that she is the godmother of Melodramatic Teenage Feelings.

When she was 57, Joni Mitchell re-recorded “Both Sides Now”, a song she wrote at 24. No longer sung in dulcet tones but in a husky rasp brought on by a lifetime of cigarettes, lines like “I’ve looked at life from both sides now/ From win and lose and still somehow/ It's life’s illusions I recall/ I really don't know life at all” took on a newfound poignancy. It would be a stretch to say the same has happened here, because Swift’s voice has remained almost exactly the same, but there is certainly an added layer to songs like “Fifteen”. “Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now,” she mused back then, at 18, and again now, at 31. “Back then, I swore I was gonna marry him someday/ But I realised some bigger dreams of mine.”

Only occasionally has something been lost in the re-recording process. Perhaps it’s because she has grown weary of it after thousands of renditions, but “Love Story” somehow lacks the wide-eyed spark of the original. If there's a discernible difference, it’s that the build of the middle eight is a little less steep and a little less triumphant. But I’m splitting hairs. Swift has done what she set out to do.

There is a long history of women being locked into bad record deals that come to feel more like prison sentences: TLC; Kesha; Megan Thee Stallion; Toni Braxton; Kelly Clarkson. Maybe Swift is doing this for them, too. Bring on the next five.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 5

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)

Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.

Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.

Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho

So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.

I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.

Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.

Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.

This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.

So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)

Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.

Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.

It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!

We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.

The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-

Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.

No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.

Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!

Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.

Oh, I do hope so.

The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.

This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?

You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?

Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?

Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?

Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.

Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.

it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw

And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.

Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help

I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!

Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.

Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!

Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!

Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.

The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((

Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.

Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!

Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.

Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.

They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!

[stardustincarnate]

TOGETHER FOREVER // Asra x Reader

ASRA + A NON-BINARY MC

WORD COUNT: 2541

GENRE: Fluff

Water.

Flowing water, molded into ballerinas, swaying to the slow, dreamy rhythm of a harp, by a skilled magician, surrounded me as I stood in the middle of a vast, colorful oasis. It took me a while before I realized that I was in Asra's gate. How did I end up being there?

The plants sprung to life, engulfing me, filling my vision with a dancing of warm colors that reminded me of him as I closed my eyes. I could feel the phantom of warmth embrace me, and when I opened my eyes, I was greeted with those deep and sincere purple eyes of his.

The world seemed to have slowed down, every action taking some time as if it was to savor the moment. I found myself loosely wrapping my arms around his neck as he caressed my other cheek, and I leaned to the feeling.

I could see Asra's magnificent aura combining with mine, making a beacon of blinding light that went up to the sky.

His tender touch never fails to send me flying over to the moon, both our magic combined as if speaking to one another, my heart reacting to his own.

He pressed his forehead against mine, a blush creeping up his face.

"I love you."

-

With that, I had unfortunately awoken. I yawned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, soon realizing that Asra was not beside me anymore. The smell of my favorite soup wafted out from the kitchen to the bedroom, causing me to blearily walk towards it. The sleepiness soon ebbed my system once the smell got stronger. Asra wasn't aware that I already woke up, so I sneakily went on to hug him from behind, earning an adorable gasp from him and making me chuckle.

"[MC]? You're awake. Did you have a good sleep?"

I nuzzled his fluffy hair. "Mhm I suppose. I had a really good dream."

"Oh? Why don't you tell me about it."

"We were in your gate. But it didn't look like before.. it was more magical that time. Well, just us doing some romantic things.. Involving magic too!"

Asra let out a chuckle, "Why don't we make it real then?" He turned around, giving me that playful look of his. I grinned. "Ooh, I love the sound of that."

Soon, I found myself being fed by him as we ate our breakfast. Faust kept on squeezing us alternatively. She seemed excited about something.

"[MC], what do you say we go out for a trip today?" Asra asked, wiping off some remaining soup droplets on my chin which I hadn't noticed.

"Where will we go?"

"I thought about bringing you to the magical realms, but then I thought of something better." He casted a wistful look on me. "Let's forget about the realms for the mean time. Let's just explore the city. What do you think?"

"You know I'm up for it! But you'll have to let me take a bath first!" I chuckled.

"Take your time. I won't mind." He playfully winked at me as I headed towards the bathroom.

Some time later, we arrived at the city market. Vesuvians were partially rowdy and quiet. Though some even came stumbling near the two of us, but it was alright. Asra held my hand tightly as I saw him grinning at something— or someone. The market seemed a bit more playful today. Maybe that's why he decided to take me here? The fun in the atmosphere was tangible, especially when I heard the strumming of guitars— and the next moment, all I knew was that Asra and I were dancing in the middle of the street, accompanied by some other couples until the beat had stopped.

It was fun while it lasted. It's as if my body had a mind of its own when I let myself dance to the rhythm. I didn't care about anything else other than the joyous music. I knew what felt right, and it felt right to let myself sway to the rhythm with Asra. Abstract magic bubbled around the two of us. How I love feeling that way.

However, right after the dancing session, the world suddenly dissipated into nothingmess. I was left all alone in a dark, fathomless land where no one seemed to hear me. No Asra... no Faust. I tried to connect to them using my magic, but something was intercepting it. No no, I didn't feel something ominous despite the situation. So what, exactly, was stopping me? I called out to my magic once more, and there I felt a recognizable aura somewhere. Asra's. He was nearby, I could tell, but it's as if he was hiding behind a veil which I didn't know where to find. I was in distress, but then something dawned me.

Asra must've been playing tricks with me. I should've known from the beginning. Ugh, I am so going to get that rascal! I let my magic surround me, and then I was back at the market— but I was alone. If he was pulling a prank on me, I'd give him credits for the effort of making  the crowd disappear too. I clicked my tongue but later on grinned. What kind of prank was it? I got a little excited to know what to see at the end of the tunnel.

"Asraaaaaa!"

I called out for the nth time. I was aimlessly walking that I didn't realize I already bumped to a hulking figure. The smell of Myrrh...

"Muriel! Have you seen my sneaky magician?" 

He looked away as soon as I met his eyes. He didn't reply. He just walked away. I followed him with my eyes but then he stopped his tracks, reluctantly beckoning me to join him. And I did. And I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing. Asra really did execute a massive prank for me because the whole Vesuvia seemed empty of people. I was beginning to get confused when I still didn't see anyone, but when we turned to a corner, leading to which I presume is the docks, an enthralling scenery surprised me.

My fellow Vesuvians were scattered on the side. The middle was empty and I supposed I would be walking there, and I was right. I let out a confused noise when they suddenly started singing all together. Their voices were harmonious that it somehow made my heart feel lighter than it already was. I could spot a few familiar faces.

Selasi, our favorite baker, then came up to me, handing me something. I was surprised that it wasn't bread but a bouquet of my favorite flowers. I thanked him, but before I could ask furthermore, he hastily ran back to the crowd.

"Muriel, what's going on?"

What did I expect? He didn't even turn around. I guessed I wouldn't be having any answers until I see the mastermind behind all of this.

I spotted Aisha and Salim in the crowd. They gave me a meaningful smile, a sly look on their faces. I smiled back and proceeded to walk down the center even if I had no idea what was happening. Their attentions were all on me. It made me feel overwhelmed, as if I was the star of Vesuvia. And jeez, was the Countess and all the other courtiers somewhere in the crowd?

Speaking of, I soon found Nadia standing in a corner. Her elegant figure stood out the most. I was taken aback when she walked to me, and I received a bouquet of flowers once again. She gave me a playful look and then weaved herself through the crowd. I soon spotted Portia, and she did the same thing to me, winking afterwards. 

And by the time I had reached Julian standing in the middle of the docks, my arms were already full of bouquets, but he gave a blind eye to that and proceeded to put another bouquet on top of the rest that I could barely see what's in front of me. And as I expected, the strain in my arms made the bouquets fall to the ground. I regretfully looked at them. But just as I was about to pick them up, Julian intercepted, swaying his long, lanky arms that almost hit my face.

"Whoops! No no no no. We can't have our main star doing the work here, can we?"

He flashed a shameless grin and started picking up the bouquets. I didn't argue and instead chuckled. Then as I lifted my gaze, I finally saw Asra, standing at the edge and giving me a look as if to tell "I'm expecting you."

He smiled at me as I ran into him, completely forgetting the fact that he's at the edge. One slight move and he would fall into the water. But something unusual happened. 'Asra' bursted into fizzy bubbles and tiny butterflies that soon engulfed me, making me giggle. And once they gave way, I was greeted by a bunch of tiny ballerinas which emerged from the water. They were careful not to get too close and drench my clothes. My smile grew even wider as I recalled my dream. There were also dancing ballerinas surrounding me, but bigger. Asra must had taken note of that to pull the trick off.

I pivoted, seeing 'Asra' give me another bouquet of flowers. But they were much larger than the ones my friends had given to me. The other half was drenched though since it was given to me by the water in which Asra shaped himself to.

"[MC]." I heard a boisterous call, making me turn around for the nth time, and that time I finally saw the real Asra. Solid and radiating an immense aura of magic. Joyous but somehow perplexed. I threw myself at him, and we bursted into giggles.

"My, my.. You really know how to pull a trick off your sleeves. Is this really the real you, or are you just another one of his illusions?"

"I'm the real one you know," His airy voice tickled my ears. There was a playful tone in his voice. "Want me to prove it?"

"N-Not in front of everyone!" I flushed but eventually cleared my throat. "Uhm, mind explaining yourself? Please tell me what's gotten into your mind to do this."

He only gave me a smug look, but later on evaded my gaze as a blush crept on his face. The crowd had already stopped singing. They were silent and watching us as if expecting something huge to happen. I looked at my friends, who were only giving me playful looks. I frowned, but then it hit me. 

Or I might just be assuming things. It was just a massive prank, right? Asra didn't do it because of...

"[MC]."

"Yeees?"

"I.. You know how much I care for you.. Right?"

I heard someone in the crowd squeal.

"Yes. You told me about it when.. when we were at the fountain... during the most recent masquerade." I blushed as I reminisced the scene. It made my heart flutter when he told me that he loves me. It filled me with joy. We've been through a lot...

"We've been through a lot of adventures ever since we defeated the Devil. And I treasure the memories that we keep on making... I find it better to go on adventures with you by my side rather than going alone," He looked at me and smiled. It was my turn to look away due to our faces' proximity. "You showed me a different perspective of the world, [MC], and I can't imagine living a life without you anymore. I feel like as long as we're together, we'll be able to overcome anything." 

My heart erratically beated as he said those words. A mixture of Aww's and other complements came from the crowd, but Asra didn't seem to mind. He was staring at me. And only at me.

"I love you, [MC]. And I'll keep on loving you.." He widened the distance between us a little, kneeling down and as if searching for something in his pocket. I didn't know how red my face was at the time. I felt like exploding.

He really was doing it.

He was proposing to me.

Asra stopped his search and shyly looked around, but he was somehow distressed. 

"Now where did I put it...." He looked down, facepalming. "Faust, where are you? I told you not to play with it."

At the mention of her name, Faust slithered towards him, something shiny in her mouth. Asra chuckled and scolded her as she took refuge in his sleeve. Then, he averted his gaze back to me, his eyes gleaming with hope and love.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, [MC]. And I hope you do too... Will you marry me?"

He showed me the ring that flashed the colors of the rainbow before my very eyes. Milliseconds after he said that the crowd started cheering and squealing, and I didn't even utter my answer yet, and I couldn't due to all the noise. Portia took care of it though.

"HEY! Did we actually hear what [MC] said? QUIET!" And the noise dissipated. 

The more I looked at Asra, the more I realized how nervous he actually was. Even with a brave facade, I could still see through him. We were blushing so bad as he waited for my answer. But I felt like I couldn't speak at the time. I was overwhelmed with euphoria that I couldn't bring myself to utter a single word or even move. It took me a few seconds to calm myself, responding to his question with a smile.

"D-Do you even have to ask?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Of course it is! Yes! I'll marry you!"

Asra stood up with a wide, genuine smile as he put the ring on my finger. It was filled with an intricate design, the pattern carved meticulously. I was so amazed at how detailed it was. I looked at it with awe. I couldn't believe what was hapenning. I might've swooned.

"Good. I was beginning to think you wouldn't.."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know." Asra laughed, pulling me into a kiss. His magic surged into me and when he pulled away, he immediately took me in his embrace. The crowd started cheering once again that I could barely hear myself over it.

"Did you make the ring?"

"Yes. Did you like it?"

"Like it? I love it!" I flushed against his chest.

"The ring only?"

"Psh, of course you too! I love you, Asra!"

He chuckled and intertwined our fingers. I blushed even more. If I could explode, I already would've.

"I love you too. I loved you ever since."

"Asra! Stop making me blush.."

"But I was just stating facts! Right Faust?"

"Right!"

He really couldn't fail to make me blush, to create butterflies and grow flowers inside me, and to make my heart feel light and filled with pure bliss.

We were engaged, and I couldn't wait to see what the future stores for us.

The future that includes him and I, completely contented with each other's presence.

[dirty-holy-things]

The Space Between (your heart & mine)

Chapter 20 has been posted to Ao3, and below to Tumblr.

Catch up on chapters 1-19 on Ao3.

Notes: This fic is exclusively 18+ and explicit. This chapter includes references to, and descriptions of, abuse from a parent. It is no more extreme or explicit than any other chapters, but please exercise caution.

Words: 5.2k update, 98.1k total.

If you would like to be added to my taglist for updates on this project and / or others, please fill out this form!

You pushed yourself up from the bunk, feeling the woolen blanket scratching against you as your body shifted. Your legs wobbled unsteadily at your weight, having grown accustomed to the comfort of the bed; but you straightened your spine as you crossed the cabin of the ship to the man you loved, the man who was still avoiding your gaze. The floor was freezing cold against your bare feet, but the chill only made you more alert and aware of your body and the space around you. Each step felt progressively more confident than the last, until you were standing mere inches away from him. He continued to gaze above and away from you, not affording you the illusion of eye contact through the blackness of his visor, but you were undeterred. You loved him, and you had hurt him, and you wanted to make things right.

You extended your arms slowly, just as you had many nights ago, on your first night in the ship. You thought back to how you had once moved with such trepidation, such nervousness, wondering if he would allow you to show him kindness. He had chosen to let you hold him then, and you hoped that he would make that choice again; you hoped he would make that choice every day.

Your hands landed on his waist, and he didn’t retreat or push you away. You drew closer to him, your breaths staying focused and steady; and he allowed you to wrap your arms around him, moving underneath the beskar, as you needed to feel closer to him. You pulled his body into yours with a bit of force, and you could feel the exhale of his chest as he pressed into you. He didn’t pull away, just as he hadn’t pulled away that first night, and you were just as grateful now as you had been then.

"I think I could stand anything, any suffering, only to be able to say and to repeat to myself every moment, 'I exist.' In thousands of agonies - I exist. I'm tormented on the rack - but I exist! Though I sit alone in a pillar - I  exist! I see the sun, and if I don't see the sun, I know it's there. And there's a whole life in that, in knowing that the sun is there." - Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

You blinked your eyes, and as they opened to the sights around you, you came to the realization that you were sitting on a beach; coarse sand shifting against your body, a whipping breeze moving through your hair, and navy blue waves crashing against the shores, setting off a cascade of ivory foam that exploded around you like fireworks. Yes, you were unmistakably by an ocean. You weren’t sure how you had gotten here — wherever here was — so you looked around for any clues that you could find.

You were in the same clothes you had been in on Nevarro. They were dirty — was that sand, or dust? What were those dark stains?

Dragging your palms through the coarse grey sands beneath you, you discovered there was nothing within your immediate grasp that would offer any clues; but you could feel stinging pinpricks across your body as the salty air blew against you. Looking around, your head swiveling, there was a sharp ache in your neck — but you pushed that pain away, needing focus on finding something that would give you some insight about where you were and what was happening.

Looking onwards, you saw that there were fearsome navy storm clouds rapidly approaching the shoreline you were seated at, and your eyes scanned the horizon nervously; you anxiously listened as the waves roared, almost like you had heard Din roar many times before.

Din.

Where was Din?

Your curiosity and worry was momentarily diminished as you felt something unexpected and wet fall against your warm cheek. Looking up, you understood that you were not crying, that the wetness on your face was not of your own doing. The roiling, dark clouds above you had now unleashed their freezing torrent, and the raindrops fell onto you with a steadily growing frequency that threatened to soak you through to the core within minutes.

You pushed yourself up from the sandy beach, brushing your stinging palm onto your pants to try and clean them off, before turning to try and find something in this unfamiliar landscape around you that may offer shelter. You had weathered many a storm, and knew of the aching cold that it would bring to those who were left exposed.

The landscape turned out to be not entirely unfamiliar — there were certainly many things out of place, but simultaneously recognizable in an irrefutable way. In the distance, through the fog of the rain, you could see what appeared to be your childhood home. The stone house was nothing spectacular or impressive, and it was quite small, but you would’ve recognized the pattern of those dark, moss-covered stones anywhere. You had spent many hours being forced to stare at the stone wall, after making the cat levitate, or talking to the pretty stranger woman in the marketplace who spoke a language that nobody else could understand. Somehow, you had come back to this place, to a home that was never really home.

As you shivered, the freezing rain running in rivulets down your body, you understood that you were being forced to make a choice. Sit here in the torrential downpour of rain, endure nature’s impersonal barrage; or seek shelter in the one place that had never truly been a shelter as it should have been.

You felt your heartbeat pick up speed with every fat raindrop that landed against you, their impact becoming steadily more and more forceful. Your thin jacket wasn’t holding up against the power of the storm, and with a shaking breath, you took a step towards the stone house. After all of these years, surely it was empty. Surely the inhabitants had changed, despite the resilience and timelessness of stone. This wasn’t really even your home planet — it was some amalgamation of memories and dreams from Eadu and Chandrila; it simply had to be.

The path to the house was a familiar one, although you knew that the home had never been close to an ocean — this absolutely must be some sort of dream, to bring together this combination of gorgeously torturous imagery — and as you drew closer towards the door with every step, you said a quiet prayer to whatever gods or Force that may accompany you, that the house from your memories would be empty. Your hand connected with the weathered and damp grey wood of the door, and you pushed your whole body weight against it, recalling how the door always stuck against the frame whenever it rained — which was often.

The door gave way as a particularly strong gust of wind blew against you, and you tumbled into an achingly familiar scene. The hearth across the room held a dying fire and red-black coals; the cots positioned around it were covered in the same green and grey blankets you had once wrapped yourself in; and the chest full of family valuables and heirlooms was tucked away in the corner, protecting the assorted quilts, books, and ceramic items that had been collected and protected throughout the years.

A sense of unease and comfort settled upon you simultaneously, almost as if the weight of a still-damp blanket had beed draped across your shoulders. Heavy, possibly well intentioned, and yet still unwanted.

It seemed to be blessedly empty, this memory of the house you had once known, and you were exceptionally grateful for that. The thought of a reunion with anyone from your past life, whether you were dreaming or awake, made your stomach clench in fear. Stepping through the entryway of the small house, you saw your father’s coat hanging by the door; it was weatherproof, as he worked endless hours on this rainy, desolate planet, and you were certain that if you were to pick it up it would still smell like him. Strong soap, a hint of tobacco, and an earthiness that could never be scrubbed out of the fibers, or the soul.

This isn’t real, you reminded yourself. This scene wasn’t really real, but the sensations felt as though they were, so you forced yourself to reach out for the jacket that would offer you warmth and protection from the storm. You felt tears prick your eyes as you shrugged the oversized coat onto your small frame; it was exactly as you had remembered it; and somehow it almost felt as though it were still warm. Retreating further into its protection and coverage, you stepped back out into the storm that was bettering the coast; your previous worlds of Eadu and Chandrila merging into one.

As you surveyed this unnatural scene, continually trying to rationalize and remind yourself it was a dream, you saw a familiar glint of silver — a glint of beskar. A scream tore itself from your throat as you bounced on your tiptoes, trying desperately to catch Din’s attention through the swirling debris that the powerful winds had whipped up. You could just barely see the thin line of the visor turn in your direction before your attention then turned to the small green toddler that was clambering across the sand dunes, the duo making their way towards you through the ceaseless rain.

You felt your heart leap at the sight of these two, the odd duo that you had come to love more than anything in this galaxy. You tried to run towards them, but as your muscles strained you felt as if there were an impossibly heavy weight cemented to you, holding you back from reconnecting with your true family. You fought harder and harder against the weights that held you down — and as your body fought back against this unseen power, you watched as Din and Grogu somehow begin to move even further away from you.

Arms reaching out desperately, you cried and clambered your way towards them, but for every step you took, you were dragged back threefold. Your muscles screamed in agony and exhaustion, your throat was raw from screaming their names — and yet they were still receding into the horizon, bodies eventually disappearing entirely behind the grey dunes and their grasses. This was a dream, but watching your family disappear could only be described as a nightmare.

And then out of nowhere, as you cried out for your companions, a wrinkled hand came swinging towards you at full force, landing across your face with a startlingly familiar impact that stung and smarted in a way that you hadn’t experienced in years. And yet, despite the respite from violence that Din had given you, you would’ve recognized those hateful hands anywhere.

You looked up into the aging face of your mother, hateful and wild, terror in her eyes — it held the same look that you had seen on the day you had run away; and your heart seized up in a paralyzing mix of fear and sadness, the same way it had the last time that you had seen her. All these years later, and you would still run from your mother. For all the growth, all the talents, all the forgiveness, all the skills you had developed — the instinct that had been beaten into you won out, and you felt adrenaline course through your bloodstream like gasoline to a fire, telling you to run like hell as you had once before.

As the fear and grief churned within you, the storm around you began to worsen as well. The crests of the waves grew taller, crashing with increasing ferocity; the stinging rain was now mixed with hail that threatened to break skin; and the winds that whipped around you threatened to knock you clear off of your feet.

“Well would you look at that,” your mother hissed, stepping away from you. “Ever the disaster, even now. All you bring is destruction!”

You shook your head, knowing this was a dream, knowing that what she said wasn’t true. This wasn’t real, this wasn’t right. You were only dreaming — you were really at home in the ship, wrapped securely in Din’s arms. This too will pass, you reminded yourself.

Though you knew it was only a dream, you wondered why did the sands and her words still sting, as the wind blew them into you? How could it still burn, knowing that no true pain was inflicted upon you?

Your mother looked towards the same horizon that Din and Grogu had disappeared behind, and you followed her gaze. “And of course, you’ve run off with whatever man gives you the slightest bit of attention — you clearly haven’t learned your lesson, stupid girl — wonder how long it’ll be before he has to start beating you like Orron did. Like I did.”

Her impossibly cruel and hateful words hit you with a breathtaking force, and you felt a concerningly familiar hatred and anger boiling within you, just as it had when you killed Bragant. Yes, you had killed Bragant — that truth could not be denied. You panicked at this sudden surge in emotions — you needed to control this, you needed to be in control, you didn’t want to lose yourself to that terrifying, encompassing darkness ever again —

And the very world around you began to violently shake as you fought back against the darkness, as you fought back against that thick, black, boiling hatred — you threw every ounce of yourself into pushing it away, wrenching your eyes shut in concentration, shutting out the painful image of your mother and her stinging, cruel hands. This evil, choking darkness felt as heavy and overwhelming as it had on Nevarro, but this time you fought it just as hard as you had fought for Din’s life on Bardotta. You were not going to let it win, you were not going to let it overtake you and drown out the humanity and love that you had so carefully cultivated. You could feel yourself screaming though the unyielding pressure and weight of the darkness, but as you clung to the smallest thread of light, you felt the vitriol and violence slowly begin to recede.

And then you saw Din and Grogu, reappearing on the storming horizon, fighting to cross over the shifting grey dunes to you.

They had fought to come back to you, despite the hurricane that you had created here.

Somewhere deep down inside, you had truly come to believe in their love and their dedication to you; and you had let go of the ideas of your mother, that you were nothing more than a source of pain and destruction. These two were living proof that you were capable of good things, that you were worthy of being loved, that you were capable of creating love and light, and growing something worth fighting for.

The thunder and crashing waves began to quiet, as the hint of a smile quirked your lips upwards. Your mother continued to stare in horror and disgust; you saw her mouth moving with hateful words, but you could no longer hear her voice. The torrential rain slowed around you, until it was barely a mist that settled across the landscape before you, and you felt the weight that had held you frozen in place slowly begin to lift. You stepped forward tentatively, your gaze moving past your still-screaming mother, to rest on the two that were now climbing down the last grey, rain-spattered dune.

You continued to step forward with rapidly growing confidence, until you were running at a breakneck pace, leaving your old cobblestone home behind — your heart was moving at lightspeed as you approached Din and Grogu, and as you came closer, you practically launched yourself into Din’s arms, colliding with the ice cold beskar with no regard for the bruises it would inadvertently press into your skin. As you wrapped your body around his, tears streaming down your face, the two of you somehow slipped — bodies tumbling, you landed on top of him in the sand, a laugh coming up from your chest to join the tears that had been brought to the surface.

You pressed your face into the cool beskar breastplate, your chest heaving with emotion; something was pressing into your arm, and you looked up to see that Grogu had climbed up onto the tangled pile of limbs, coming to rest between you, and he was making happy gurgling sounds that warmed your heart. This was your true family, these were the ones that you loved unconditionally, the ones that loved you back just the same.

The sound of the waves eventually disappeared, a silence settling around you; the winds slowly ceased to blow, and the sand that the three of you laid on disappeared beneath you, as the scene around you was wiped away and replaced with the scene of your true home — the Razor Crest.

***

You felt two strong and familiar hands on your shoulders, their grip insistent as they shook you from your sleep, as they shook off the dream that you had found yourself in just moments ago. Your eyes opened slowly, working to focus on the thin black visor that was in front of you — but something prevented you from focusing fully, and as you continued to blink you felt tears escaping from your eyes, rolling hotly down your cheeks. Your eyes flitted back and forth across the visor, as if you could see anything behind it, and you touched a shaking hand to your warm and swollen face that was covered with the dampness of tears. You must’ve been crying.

Din pulled you in close to him, sitting you up in the small bunk as your frame rested against his chest; he ran his hands through your hair, breathing deeply as he held onto you. “Are you alright? You were — you were crying, in your sleep. I couldn’t get you to wake up from it.” He sounded breathless, worried, nervous.

You nodded, your cheek brushing against the side of his freezing helmet as you worked to quiet the whimpering that was coming forth from you, and steady your shaking breaths. “It was just a dream,” you whispered, distantly recalling the storm that you had fought back against.

Din remained quiet as he continued to hold onto you; after all of the turmoil and upheaval of the past ... however many days, the two of you clung to each other even tighter, having experienced a taste of the devastation and terror that would accompany any separation.

Your breaths and heart rate slowed and became more steady; the ship was just as it had been before you and Din had fallen asleep against one another. You were safe, you were home. You pulled away from him slightly, wanting to reassure him that everything was alright. Your hand rose from your side to rest against the sharply angled beskar helmet. “I’m okay, Din, I promise. It was just a...”

Your voice faded off as you saw the utility jacket that dwarfed you. Your eyes widened in incredulity as you slowly extended your arms in front of you, seeing the sturdy weatherproof material move as your body moved within it.

“Just a dream,” you whispered, not wanting to scare Din, or have to try and explain something that you had no explanation for. You would address this new mystery at another time. You pushed this newfound mystery and worry to the side, focusing on the man in front of you who had remained by your side through all of the chaos.

Chaos, that could not remain unspoken. “Din,” you started, shifting to face him better. “I know what happened... with Bragant.”

His sigh crackled through the modulator as he moved to bring you back into his chest, but you resisted. The truth of this couldn’t be denied any longer, and you would have to confront this reality and assess how it would affect your future.

“Bragant was a bounty. He was a criminal. You won’t be in any... trouble, for what happened. Karga offered to... pay. If you want.”

You inhaled deeply, trying to wrap your mind around this information, trying to wrap your mind around everything that felt both insurmountable and invisible at the same time. “I hadn’t — hadn’t even thought about any legal consequences.”

“The Marshall assured me that you wouldn’t face any.”

You nodded, feeling grateful that this piece had been resolved before you even had time to worry about it. “It’s not only that, Din — when I was there, in that alley — he said things to me, awful things,” you paused, as you noticed your voice was shaking, and you fought back against the tears that rushed to your eyes and the heat that was rising in your throat. “When he said those things, I got... I got so angry. Angrier than I had ever been, angrier than I ever knew I could get. And I... I lost control.”

“You defended yourself against a violent criminal.” Din’s voice droned through the modulator. He was stating a fact, but this fact didn’t cover the whole truth of the matter. There was more to it than he wanted to acknowledge, but you had to.

“Din,” you spoke up, your voice holding an insistent edge that quieted the protests of the historically stubborn man. “Din, I killed someone. When I didn’t mean to. I lost control, back there, in that alley — I understand that killing may not seem significant to you, but it does to me, that was a lifethat I took —“

Din pulled away from you abruptly, a bit harshly. “You think that killing others doesn’t affect me? Is that what you really think of me?” His voice was louder than you had ever heard it before, and it cracked with strain and frustration; you could hear the hurt through the modulator. “Do you think that I enjoy it, like some sadistic bastard? Do you think that I don’t carry the weight of every single life I’ve ended?”

You cowed at his brazen display of pain and frustration, and an instinctual part of yourself pulled away from him, your legs and arms retracting inwards to protect yourself. You felt a hot wave of tears crashing into you, and you buried your head in the crook of your elbow, not wanting to upset him, not wanting to make this worse than it had to be.

“No, Din, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You whispered, your voice breaking; you weren’t sure if he even heard you as your face was hidden from view, buried within your arms. You screwed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever fury may follow.

It stayed silent for several moments, the tension and emotion rolling thickly off of the both of you; the air felt heavier, and each breath required more effort to draw the weighted air into your lungs. As you slowly came to the realization that nothing horrible was going to happen, came to the realization that Din was nothing like the ones who had come before, you lifted your head up from your arms to confront this emotional scene... but without violence. You had never experienced conflict without violence before; you didn’t know how to handle it, but you knew that you loved Din and trusted him.

He was now standing in the cabin rather than seated directly next to you; his body was facing yours, and yet his head was turned away. This was an intentional choice on his part; his body language spoke volumes, and he knew that every inch of positioning was intentional. And despite all of the beskar, despite all of the weapons, and despite all of the mental walls that he threw up against you — you could still feel how your careless words had cut him deeply. You had hurt Din, and you had to confront that. You had to acknowledge that, and work towards repairing this.

You pushed yourself up from the bunk, feeling the woolen blanket scratching against you as your body shifted. Your legs wobbled unsteadily at your weight, having grown accustomed to the comfort of the bed; but you straightened your spine as you crossed the cabin of the ship to the man you loved, the man who was still avoiding your gaze. The floor was freezing cold against your bare feet, but the chill only made you more alert and aware of your body and the space around you. Each step felt progressively more confident than the last, until you were standing mere inches away from him. He continued to gaze above and away from you, not affording you the illusion of eye contact through the blackness of his visor, but you were undeterred. You loved him, and you had hurt him, and you wanted to make things right.

You extended your arms slowly, just as you had many nights ago, on your first night in the ship. You thought back to how you had once moved with such trepidation, such nervousness, wondering if he would allow you to show him kindness. He had chosen to let you hold him then, and you hoped that he would make that choice again; you hoped he would make that choice every day.

Your hands landed on his waist, and he didn’t retreat or push you away. You drew closer to him, your breaths staying focused and steady; and he allowed you to wrap your arms around him, moving underneath the beskar, as you needed to feel closer to him. You pulled his body into yours with a bit of force, and you could feel the exhale of his chest as he pressed into you. He didn’t pull away, just as he hadn’t pulled away that first night, and you were just as grateful now as you had been then.

As you rested your head against the unyielding, cold steel of his breastplate, you pressed your hands even deeper into him, trying to convey all of your love and sorrow through touch alone; you hated that you hurt him, that you ever caused him a single moment of doubt. “Din, I’m so sorry,” you sighed. “I was — I wasn’t thinking, when I said what I said before. It was crass, and careless, and completely untrue. You’re a good man, Din Djarin. The best man I’ve ever known, and I’ve never even for a moment thought you were anything less than that.”

“Your measure for good men is concerning.”

You couldn’t tell through the warping of the modulator if he was being sarcastic, and making a joke; or if he was still smarting from your earlier words.

You pursed your lips, nodding against him. “You’re right. My gauge for a moral compass is a bit broken, a bit biased. But you have been the brightest spot in my life, the brightest star in my sky, and I want you to know that I think you are a better man than you give yourself credit for.”

You could sense a change in the beat of his heart, could hear it echoing against the beskar you were resting against. His posture shifted as his arms came to wrap themselves around you, drawing you into the familiar lines and curves of his body. You sighed in relief, melting into him, trusting that he had accepted your apology and forgiven you.

“I love you,” he whispered, so quietly that the modulator only barely altered the true sound of his voice. “I know that... what happened, was hard for you. You’re sweet, and kind, and that’s... one of the many things I love about you.” He was quiet for a moment as he pulled you in tighter, nearly lifting your now-freezing feet off of the ground. “I want to do whatever I can to help you.”

You nodded against him, a few tears escaping as you knew that you had his understanding and his support; and that was all you needed to trust that you would be able to navigate this uncharted territory together. You weren’t alone in this; you had Din and Grogu, and the three of you would find your way through this new challenge, as you had found your way through many before. You pulled away from his strong grasp, trying to gaze into the black and blank visor, needing at least some illusion of contact and connection. “I just... Din, I don’t know where to go from here. I’ve read books from at least 10 different planets, from 100 different cultures, and I haven’t got a single clue about how to manage this or what I can do to be better.”

Din stayed silent, as he often did, but you could feel the way that his fingers pressed more deeply into your body, imparting a sort of comfort that only he could give. You could feel his concentration as he contemplated what to say next; he had never been rash or rushed with his words, and it was one of the many things that you loved and appreciated about him.

“When I was traveling with Grogu, we crossed paths with a… Jedi. Ahsoka Tano.” Din paused, understanding the weight of the information that he was sharing with you. “She... said she couldn’t train Grogu, because he was too attached to me.”

Your lips quirked up in a smile, a small laugh coming from your chest. “She wouldn’t want anything to do with me, then.”

You heard Din chuckle quietly, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you as you knew he was not holding any grudges. “No, she wouldn’t train you either. But she told me that there is a planet, that has a... rock, that is important to the Force. Or to the Jedi. She said that by sitting on it, Grogu may be able to connect with other Jedi in the galaxy.”

An eyebrow raised up in suspicion at the story he shared. “Sitting on a rock will help us find another Jedi?”

Din shrugged, and you could imagine a clueless and befuddled look existed behind the beskar. “I don’t know. All of that magic — sorry, Force — stuff seems impossible to me. And yet I’ve seen it.” He gently tucked away the strands of hair that had fallen into your face, his hand coming to rest at your chin, lifting your gaze back to his anonymous one. “It seems too simple, just going to this rock — but it may be the best option we have.”

You nodded, resting your head in his large hand, enjoying the warmth of the contact. “I want to talk to Grogu first, though. I want to make sure this is something he wants too.”

Din nodded in understanding. “I’ll give you some space to clean up, and then we can meet Karga and the Marshall in town. They’ve been looking after the kid. We can talk about the bounty pay, and then set a course for Tython.”

You reached up to squeeze his gloved hand gently before turning to retreat to the fresher, to try and wash away some of the stress and the pain of the past several days. Your head felt as though it was swimming, or spinning, or both, with all of the upheaval that you had experienced; and as you shrugged yourself out of the weathered, industrial jacket that had somehow made its way onto your frame, you felt even more disoriented. You gripped the edge of the steel sink tightly, taking deep and slow breaths until you felt steady enough on your feet to turn on the water of the shower. You shrugged out of the rest of your clothes, your muscles still aching with exhaustion.

The blistering hot water rolled down your skin, and you worked to clear your mind and return to the meditative state that Ixxith had once taught you. Your body went through the motions of cleaning, your mind going peacefully blank and quiet. You couldn’t solve any of your problems or overcome the complexities while in the shower; so you saved that stress for another, more appropriate time.

When you had finally scrubbed away the last of the grit and grime that clung to you, feeling like a new and whole person, you dressed yourself and met Din outside of the ship that you had been encapsulated and recovering in for days. The sunlight felt harsh on your skin, but you welcomed the sensation that you had gone so long without. Stretching your limbs out into the open air, you smiled confidently over at Din, hoping that the confidence and bravado that you projected would eventually sink in and become more real.

He placed his gloved hand onto the small of your back, and you could feel the pads of his fingers pressing into the vertebrae of your spine, holding you up and encouraging you forward, just as he had so many times before. It was a quiet kind of support, but the weighted silence and intentional touches spoke more than any texts or volumes could, and his love and confidence made you stronger and more empowered than any Force training could.

Whatever happened next, on Nevarro, on Tython, on any other far-fetched planet in this galaxy, you knew without a doubt that you would face it together. You would face it with the kind of love that could only have grown in the quiet places of the ship, in the cold of hyperspace, between those who had been denied love and yet held an extraordinary capacity for it.

Taglist: @knivesareout @tanzthompson @stageleftlauren @greatcircle79 @bdavishiddlesbatch

[chemsexholmes]

But now its just another show and you leave em laughing when you go and if you care don't let them know don't give yourself away I've looked at love from both sides now from give and take and still somehow its love's illusions that I recall I really don't know love really don't know love at all tears and fears and feeling proud to say "I love you" right out loud dreams and schemes and circus crowds ive looked at life that way oh but now old friends they're acting strange and they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed well something's lost but something's gained in living every day

[colemacgrathtkz]

Where two shadows meet

Disclaimer: No gush. No mush. Just angst.

Previously. Next

----------------------‐----------------------

[The next day after being sent away, human realm]

The morning after being cast out, Luz woke up to the an empty room. She had hoped the events of last night were just some nightmare. Feeling the dried tears on her face told her the truth. She must've cried herself to sleep. She'd been waiting for the smallest chance of the portal reopening. Any opportunity, no matter how small, she refused to miss.

None came and hints of dawn were peeking through the windows.

She picked herself up and headed for her old house. The empress cloak still wrapped around her. She wondered, how would she explain this to her mother?

When she approached the street, a flyer caught her eye.

A missing persons poster with her picture on it. Plenty of them were scattered throughout the neighborhood.

She ran towards the side of her house and peered in.

Her mother, weary and worn out, sat at the table with a phone at hand. Were her eyes red from crying or staying up all night?

Luz was about signal her mother to her presence.

Not yet.

She caught her reflection in the window. Her pupils were glowing red. Stumbling back, she couldn't face her mother like this.

Sprinting away, not caring about what direction.

Hours later, Luz would return when she knew her mother was gone. She snuck in to take whatever cash she could and pack up a new bag.

Camilla Noceda: "Who's there?!"

Scratch that, Camilla hadn't gone to work yet. Luz grabbed what she had and bolted out of the house. From that day on, she had to make her supplies last.

[Six weeks later]

Luz had been wandering the country. She had tried shelters. But she had made her stays brief. People had tried to figure out, where was she from?

The worst part came from her "condition". Lately, she kept waking up in different parts of the city. Clumps of money or random items could be found alongside her. Usually with a note that said, "Take this with you". They were written in her handwriting. She refused to obey the beast inside her. However, her stubbornness meant she refused any resource that came from the empress. One in particular, the empress cloak that kept appearing in her bag.

Her travels left her funds dry and uneasy about the future.

One night, she didn't have any strength left. Her nightmare was moving to its next phase.

She found herself in her old room. A shackle made of light lead out the door. She stepped out into the hallway. The chain trailed to the right. But it became pitch black futher down. A second chain came from the abyss into a door across the hall.

She wanted to know where this would lead.

Stepping through, she dreaded that this was Belos' old throne room.

Stop...fighting

The empress stepped out from the other side of the room. Dressed in her cloak, the metal mouth mask was new. She twirled her finger and closed the door behind Luz.

Let...me.

Her majesty gestured to her mask. The voice was so muffled, it might has well have been a whisper. Luz didn't really notice it until now.

Luz: "I don't really know what..."

Empress Luz: "Check...it."

The empress pulled on her end of the chain and zipped to Noceda's side. Luz fell over, leaving the empress towering over her.

She didn't know she could make such a scary glare.

Empress Luz (pointing to pockets): "Check!"

Luz didn't waste a second and found a key.

Empress Luz: "You... willingly... give."

She handed her the key, as she stood up.

The empress removed her metal mask, relieved.

Empress Luz: " That's better. We have something to discuss."

Noceda just wanted to leave this nightmare.

Empress Luz: "This nightmare is very real. You leave... when we settle this now!

That's right, I can feel what you're thinking."

Luz Noceda: "What do you want? This is just a dream, right?"

Empress Luz: " You've no doubt noticed, I've been taking control while you sleep. Regrettably, our body has become deprived of rest. We're malnourished and becoming worse. You have to listen to me now!"

Luz: "If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me!"

Empress: "And our mother with us?"

Dread silenced both of them for a moment.

Luz: "What did you do?

Empress: " I've been a spectator, until not long ago. Neither of us have seen our..."

Luz: "My mama! Mine!"

Empress: "Our mami. I haven't seen her since you ran. I haven't done anything to her. That's what you've got to understand. I care about our mama, like you."

Luz: " You're a curse from Belos."

Empress: "Wrong! I'm not you, but at the same time, I am. From the moment Eda took you on, you were a witch with a dark side. When you killed Belos, you released his unnatural power. I wasn't made by it. It just gave me a voice. I'm a genuine Luz Noceda! I'm a part of you, just like you're a part of me."

The empress sat down on the throne, resting her head in her hand. She revealed a key under her cloak.

Empress: "I can give you the key out of this room. But these shackles on our legs are different story. These are the chains Amity gave us. Which is why, you're going to do what I say."

Luz scowled at this doppelganger. But she began to recall everything that happened since that night.

Luz: "What are you talking about?"

Empress: "Our fates are tied. But you're the only obstacle in our way. You've been frustrated and angry since we were cast out. I've been gaining control because of this. You were able to hold me back, at first. But your control is ticking away. Ironic, isn't it? We're both at our weakest, regardless."

Luz: "Let me out!"

The empress held up her restraint.

Empress: "To do what? Walk until we collapse? Hardly sleep anywhere? Fending off the streets? We're exhausted and knocking on death's door! If we continue on like this, our mother will suffer, too."

Luz: "You're lying."

Empress: " You haven't forgotten our last moments with Amity, right? She knew that would be the last time she'd see us. Mama didn't know that moment on the curb was hers. If they even find our body, can you imagine her face when they do? Haunted by the guilt for the rest of her life? Never knowing anything other than sending her daughter away? That's the fate that you're headed for. But I'm offering a different course."

Luz: "Stop beating around the bush and tell me!"

Empress: "While you've been asleep, I've tried to learn all about magic on this side. This chain could be an unexpected key to getting everything. I want everything you do. I want to give our mama an easy life. I want Amity at our side."

Luz: "Revenge on Lilith?"

Luz felt a familiar rage rising. But she didn't know why. She hadn't thought of Lilith until just then. That's when she understood her connection to the empress.

Empress: "Maybe I was hasty about that? But I know you haven't forgiven her for what she's done. I am you, after all. She got her sister back while we've got nothing. She's cursed her own sister and used us as a human shield. She gets to be with Eda. Meanwhile, you beat Belos and can't even go back to mami."

Luz: "It's because of you. All of this is your fault!"

Empress: "Us. Tell me something, does mama love you or me?"

Luz: "Me! I'm her daughter. You're just something I picked up on the Isles."

Empress: "So, she never met me? Yet, she sent you away to be someone else. It's not my fault you can't be with her. My existence isn't the reason you can't face her, is it? It's because you're too much, even for her.

But what about Amity?"

Luz: "You made me watch you terrorize everyone. You didn't leave her a choice."

Empress: " I gave her everything. She had our trust and love. But when she cast us out, she knew it was you. She was talking to you."

Summoning illusions, that night was replayed in front of them.

Empress: "When she was holding the staff, she knew it was you. Like you said, if she wanted to keep you, she could've. But once again, you were too much for her to handle.

That's two loved ones that cast us...sorry, you away. Should I even mention the others? Eda, King, Willow,  and Gus? They loved you, too, didn't they? But that wasn't enough, was it? You might hate me, but they fear you, too. They didn't stand up for you, either. Their love didn't save you. Those were your final moments with them. Your love for them wasn't enough to keep you together. "

Noceda was silent, letting those words sink in.

Empress: "Right now, I've got a plan. As I've explained, refusing to work alongside me won't help anything."

She tossed the key over to Luz.

Empress: "Right now, you've got two choices. You can keep fighting me and lead us both to our deaths? Or you can stop trying to hold me back and work towards getting it all back?"

Luz walked slowly towards the door.

Empress: "If you want to waste what's left of your energy on the former, I can promise you this. Our last moments won't be yours."

Luz: " You'd like it if I disappeared, wouldn't you? Just like me?"

Empress: "Our body can't go on like this much longer. By the time you disappeared, I wouldn't have much longer. Even if I made it back, they wouldn't trust me. I wouldn't even get the chance to atone. Despite what you think, we need to work together to make this work!"

The two stared at each other. The existence of magic, witches, and demons didn't make this any less weird.

Luz: "You said, we can have it all. How do I know you don't mean, just you?"

Empress: " We were living out our fantasies on the Boiling Isles. Mama thought they were holding us back from reality. But magic is a reality. You're holding me back because you think I'm a monster of tyranny. How are you so sure you're not wrong? Like mom? Luz Noceda is the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. That's the reality she never saw. But we can show her that. Together, we can make her proud. With me, we can have everything. With you, we might be able to share it?"

Luz fidgeted with the key in her hands.

Empress: "If you unlock that door, you're agreeing to embrace my plan. There's no other way to put it. But neither of us have much other choice, anyways. It'd be a new level of dense for you to refuse just because."

Luz inserted the key into the hole. She wanted to know something before turning it.

Luz: "How would being back on the Isles help mama?"

Empress: "Remember Belos last words? This world has much to offer. So much power. It is our job as humans to fulfill our destiny. It's our turn to fulfill ours. I figured out what he meant. I even improved on his day of unity. We'd have more than we could ever want. Prosperity that'd never run out, no matter how much we shared. We can and will give our family and friends what they deserve. Happiness. A life where our mom would never cry again. Amity wouldn't ever hide who she really is. No one would ever have to cry again. But that life only comes if their fearless Luz steps up. Belos' fate sealed ours. But it wasn't so we'd have nothing. Our fate is to claim everything, together."

Luz: "You're laying that on pretty thick, aren't cha?"

Empress: "I know, every day since we've been back, you've felt powerless. This is a cruel fate to live through. But, if you think about it, this is still your time to shine. Just like in those PG fantasies of yours, Luzura! At your lowest, will you rise back up? Like any chosen one worth their salt? I suppose, the only one who would know you didn't; would be me."

Luz Noceda, the former good witch in training, finally turned the key.

The empress finally cracked a smile.

Empress: "That's the right decision."

Luz woke up in an alleyway with a hot dog lying next to her.

The empress Luz appeared as a hallucination. She gestured towards a dumpster nearby. Inside, Luz found a baseball.

Empress Luz: "I've been storing that close for a while now. Until we get our strength back, we should keep it on us, at all times."

Luz picked up the hot dog, wrapped in aluminum, and began digging in.

Feeling large wads of cash in her pockets, she made her way towards the streets.

Luz: "What now?"

Empress: "Take a look inside the store next to you. I think you'll find our heading."

She peered through the window of a book store. Right there, a shelf filled with the newest release.

From the author of the "Good witch, Auzura".

Empress: "Build up your strength and work on not being recognized. If something becomes too hard for you, I'll step in. Remember, we can fix this together!"

Luz pressed her forehead against the cold glass. That phrase was a poignant reminder of how far away she was from who she used to be.

The empress placed one ghostly hand on Luz's shoulder.

Empress: "It's okay. If anyone could do this, it's us. It's always Luz Noceda."

She returned to the alley to pick up her things. While she finished her breakfast, the empress fixated on the shackle on her ankle.

She knew what buttons to press. Physically, Luz Noceda was being brought to pieces. Emotionally, she was demoralized by the cruel twist of fate. She had become so numb, the empress knew all she had to do was wait. Wait until her spirit was an easy blow out.

Now, in every sense of the word, Luz Noceda was broken!

Author's note: I wanted to show how these two might have "compromised" on working together. I once asked the creator of the "Broken!Luz AU" about the empress as a character. I've tried to stay as close to the creator's vision for her, as I could. But that brings me to this point. My additions to the AU are non canon. Take them with a grain of salt.

[lunar-jimin]

i am my mother’s child, i’ll love you til my breathing stops                                     i’ll love you til you call the cops on me

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: smut, tiny little glimpse of fluff, a lot of angst, stalker!reader, ex!namjoon

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: penetrative sex, softdom!namjoon (kinda), sub!reader (also kinda), quickie in a bathroom, lots of feelings, generally sad ones, this is fairly depressing, reader is stalker, so there’s that, also she has drunk sex with a stranger, but she propositions him so

Summary: It was your obsession with your job that drove him away. It’s your obsession with him that drives you.

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The world outside your window was dyed in the murky blue of four in the morning. You didn’t notice. Your eyes were glued to the glaring screen in front of you, begging for your undivided attention. Instead of working like you should be, you’re creeping through your ex’s Instagram page, desperate to know every minute detail of his life after you. The couple staring back at you from the screen made your stomach twist itself into knots. You had known he would move on, find someone to love him better than you could, but you never thought this would happen in a million years.

Engaged? Really? They had only been dating for a year, only a year and a half since he had left you, but sure enough, the giant diamond on her ring finger spoke for itself. Jealousy tore through you. You knew you didn’t deserve his affection, but that hadn't stopped you from holding on to the small glimmer of hope that one day you would find a way to be together again.

Despite it all, you had long ago admitted to yourself that she was a much better match for him. Your mutual friends would often regale you with their complaints of how clingy they were, how much they loved each other. The pictures of them that filled your feed testified to this. She made sure the world knew how much she loved him. A twinge of regret sparked in you when you thought of your own Instagram page, bare of any images of the two of you. You were never one for shoving your relationship into other people’s faces.

Your eyes flicked from the post to the clock in the corner of your screen and you groaned inside at the prospect of getting only two hours of sleep. Turning back to your computer, you noticed the tired burn in your eyes and the lethargy that spread throughout your limbs. With the last bit of energy you could muster, you drug yourself out of your way-too-comfy computer chair and into your welcoming bed. You fell asleep before you made it under the covers, still in your jeans.

The next thing you knew, your alarm was blaring out some loud pop song you had picked a long time ago and never bothered to change, uncouthly interrupting your precious slumber. Sitting you, you already began to feel the consequences of too little sleep: today was going to be a long one. You silently swore to yourself that you were going to fix your sleep schedule, before managing to drag yourself out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom. The warm water from your shower did little to wake you up, but it did sooth your tense muscles. A half an hour later, you were at the bus stop, apple in hand, trying valiantly to keep your eyes open.

Your morning passed quietly. Somehow words appeared on your screen, despite the fact that you didn’t recall typing them. You had never been more grateful for your lunch break in all your life. You wearily made the slow trek to the cafe three blocks down from your office. All you could think of was the toasty panini and cup of coffee calling your name. The apple you had gulped down for breakfast wasn’t doing much for you anymore.

The cafe cheerily greeted you with the smell of espresso and a warmth that comforted your bones. You had been coming here since you began your career as a journalist for the newspaper. You swore they made the best sandwiches in this hemisphere, and the shy barista, Jungkook, never failed to make you smile with one of his cheeky stories from college.

You quickly ordered before taking your usual spot by the window. You had only been sitting for three minutes when your day went from bad to terrible. You blinked twice when you saw him. You were sure it was an illusion, your lack of sleep finally taking its toll on your mental health. You close your eyes and count to ten, praying that he would be gone when you opened them again.

There was now way it was coincidence that he was here. There was no way that he could possibly have come to the same cafe you had been a patron at for five years by accident. There was no way.

You froze in place. You internally debated if you should get his attention. A large part of you wanted to leave before he saw you, have Jungkook sneak you out the back, but a small part of you wanted to run to him, take him in your arms, and promise to love him right. Instead, you sat there like a deer in headlights, letting fate take its course.

You hated that he looked better than the last days of your relationship. He had found his style again and he had cut his hair. He looked healthier, and you knew from your midnight ventures on his Instagram account that he had started to workout. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew deep down that the toxicity of your relationship had been detrimental to his well-being.

The guilt was eating you up, when he turned to look at you. If you were frozen before, you were solid ice now: muscles locked up, eyes open wide. You gulped slowly, praying to whatever god was out there to make you invisible. Unfortunately, the gods weren’t having it today, and he gave you a quick wave and a smile before turning back to the menu.

You prayed that would be the entirety of your interaction, but five minutes you looked up from the phone you were taking refuge in, to find him walking towards your table.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

His voice was deeper than you recalled

"Uh, yeah, sure."

You looked out the window in a desperate attempt to avoid conversation and eye-contact.

"How are you?"

You managed to look up at him.

"I'm fine."

You hoped that he wouldn’t see through the lie. You hoped he wouldn’t see the dark circles under your eyes and realize you still weren’t getting enough. You hoped he wouldn’t see the stain on your shirt and realize that you still couldn’t find the time to do basic chores. You hoped that somehow, he wouldn’t realize that you were just as addicted to work as when he left you. That you were still failing at being a person.

"That's good."

You gave a small smile.

"How 'bout you?"

"Pretty good."

He grinned. You guessed he was thinking about his engagement but was hesitant to bring it up in your presence.

"Good."

You took a sip of your coffee and looked out the window again, uncomfortable down to the soles of your feet.

"I, uh, have some big news that, uh, I wanted to share with you."

Maybe not so hesitant, and not here by accident. You raised an eyebrow.

"I'm, uh, engaged."

The sheepishness that poured over his face was almost adorable.

"Oh."

You were silent for a moment.

"Congrats then."

Behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of disappointment, as if some suppressed sadistic part of him wanted you to be hurt. You were glad that you came off as unbothered, even though your heart ached every time you thought of that stupid engagement post.

"I love her."

He was desperate. You were surprised. Namjoon was never petty, yet here he was trying to make you jealous. Had you really hurt him so badly?

"I would hope so."

You looked back out the window.

"She's really amazing. She cooks for me and goes on trips and she’s even going to quit her job to take care of our kids."

It would have hurt, if the chauvinistic ideals behind it hadn’t made you roll your eyes. But the point was still there: she was actively loving him, taking care of him, showing him that she wanted a future with him. That stung.

"Okay."

He looked at the window, resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to get a rise out of you. He should've known. You had never been very expressive of your emotions.

"I would have married you."

That made you flinch. A spark of delight ignited in his eye. Asshole.

"Okay."

"I loved you."

"I know."

"Did you love me?"

"I don't know."

A lie. You had loved him to the moon and back. Hell, you still loved him. But you wanted to hurt him just a little bit for making you sit through this torture.

"Oh."

A blow to his ego. If he wanted to parry, he best have come prepared.

"Have a good day then."

"Okay."

With that he left, without even bothering to pick up his order.

Before you knew what you were doing, you followed him out the door. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you knew you were no longer in control of your being. You followed him one block after another, making sure you were far enough behind him that he wouldn’t notice you. You weren’t sure what you were seeking. Closure perhaps.

Soon, you found yourself standing outside a familiar, red, brick building. During your relationship, Namjoon had moved in with you, but still rented his apartment. In the beginning, you had stayed the night a few times. The apartment was small, but the view was to die for. You missed it.

He was already inside, but you knew which window was his. You stared up at it for a couple minutes, before something snapped inside you and you realized what you were doing. You felt nauseous, but that was quickly forgotten when you noticed the time. Panic shot through you, as you began to run back to the office. You could only hope that your boss wouldn’t notice your extended lunch break.

At first, it was a rare occurrence. Ever so often you would find yourself standing in front of those red bricks staring up at that window. Nothing would ever happen. You would just stare, part of you hoping to catch a glimpse of him and another part of you dreading the idea of ever seeing him again.

As your addiction to your job continued to consume you, it became a more frequent occurrence. Once a month turned to twice and then to once a week. Your mental health slowly deteriorated, until you were at risk of losing it completely. Somewhere in that time, you managed to pull yourself enough to end up at a shitty dive bar in the heart of the city with the few friends you had managed to keep. You weren’t that close to them. You doubt they knew your middle name or your birthday, but they were company you didn’t get much of that these days.

The beginning of your evening was spent slowly downing alcohol and catching up about the dullness of each of your existences. You spat out lies, hiding the fact that all your life was anymore was work and stalking your ex. You put on a front. You had other friends. You had been on dates but nothing had worked out yet. You had started dieting and working out. Lies, lies, lies.

Somewhere around your third beer, the fragile illusion you had created for yourself, came crashing down. You were well aware that these girls were friends with Namjoon and that they had undoubtedly received an invitation to his wedding, but while they were relatively sober they had been kind enough not to remind you. Now, however, their blood-alcohol levels were through the roof and as a consequence, they began to discuss the details of the wedding.

At some point, someone asked you what you were going to wear to the event. You stared at her dumbly before she realized what a stupid question it was and turned back to whoever she was talking to. You hadn't received an invitation to the wedding but a small part of you was glad.  You didn’t really want the reminder, and you wouldn’t go anyway, you weren't that masochistic.

Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. There was a part of you that did want to go. A part of you that daydreamed of standing up in front of the entire church and begging him not to marry her. Begging him to come home with you. Begging him to love you again. But it was a stupid fantasy, and not one you should indulge in.

Lisa, the only person there who you really gave two shits about, turned to you and began to talk about your job again. When you let it slip that you had ran into Namjoon at lunch awhile ago, she looked like a little kid on Christmas. With her filter gone, she began to pester you with questions. Then she lit up.

“I have an idea.”

You internally groaned. Lisa was famous for her drunk ideas and none of them were ever good.

“You should come with me to the wedding as my plus one.”

Your eyes went wide.

“Lisa, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. You can get all dressed up and make him see what he’s missin’.”

It did sound tempting.

“Okay.”

You didn’t sound very sure, but Lisa was too drunk to care. She squealed before giving you a quick side hug and turning to talk to someone else. As the gravity of the situation hit you, you found yourself longing to forget everything. You threw back two shots of tequila before marching out onto the dance floor.

It didn't take long for some random stranger to come grind up on you, but you were too drunk and upset to care. In fact, feeling someone touch your body again was somewhat soothing. It didn't take long for your lips to find his and it didn't take much for you to convince him to come home with you.

You barely noticed saying goodbye to you friends as he dragged you out the door and into the back of an uber. You barely remembered anything else until you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a strange man in your bed.

It was the first time you had really seen him, too inebriated the night before to really notice his features. You didn't want to admit how similar they were. It was the dimples that gave it away. Even drunk, you still seemed to have a type.

He was adorable, lying there, so unaware of the rest of the world. It reminded you of your first date with Namjoon. While he began the night full of energy, he ended it passed out with his head in your lap.

5 Years Ago

You met him through mutual friends. He asked you out at a party and you still remember the red tinge on his cheeks to this day. You had developed a crush and you were delighted to oblige him.

Namjoon was a very simple man, and you didn't expect much more out of your date. Just dinner and a movie. However, he obviously wanted to impress you when he drove out of the city and to a beautiful flower field overlooking it. Halfway into your picnic dinner, he sheepishly confessed to having no cooking skills and that his best friend Jin had prepared your dinner. But that didn't matter, because for what Namjoon lacked in the culinary arts, he made up for with his mind. Namjoon blew you away with the shear capacity of his brain. He was obviously a nervous talker, and so you sat in awe as he spilt facts about whatever subject you were talking about.

"How do you know so much?"

"I don't know that much."

You gave him a look.

He sighed.

"I don't know, I just do. I consume information and I never really forget it. Most people find it annoying. At least that's what Jin tells me."

"It's adorable."

You both blushed.

"Thanks."

He looked sheepishly at his lap.

"So are you."

"What?"

You looked up at him confused.

"You're adorable too."

You're cheeks blazed scarlet.

When you mustered the courage to look at him, he was staring at your lips. His eyes quickly flitted back to yours when he noticed you looking at him. He coughed uncomfortably.

You weren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself tentatively placing your hand on his thigh. You looked at him nervously, while trying to muster the confidence to close the gap between you.

Luckily, you didn't need to. One second you were staring at his lips, the next they were on yours. You were happy to find that they were just as soft and plush as they looked. He moved rhythmically, and you prayed to god that you were as good of a kisser as he was.

Then the rain started. It was just a drizzle at first, but by the time you had packed up the picnic, it had begun to pour. You dashed to the car, soaked to the bone. When Namjoon pulled up to your apartment building, you invited him in to dry off. While his clothes were in the dryer, you started a movie, some cheesy rom-com. You weren't even thirty minutes in, when Namjoon fell asleep in your lap while you played with his hair.

The memory faded and instead of Namjoon, you found the mystery man whose name you didn't know. You woke him gently, offered him some coffee- which he declined- before sending him on his way. You weren't trying to be rude, but the longer you looked at him, the longer you were reminded of Joon, and you only had a limited capacity for heartache.

This time you didn't even bother to change out of sweats and a t-shirt. You must have looked like a mess as you rode the bus to the red-brick building. You were smart enough to bring a coffee and a book so that you had something to occupy yourself, as you sat on the bench across the street. You didn’t even look at the window anymore, just being this close to him was enough to satisfy your weird urge.

You had been sitting for an hour before he appeared. He didn't even glance your way. Your nerves twittered, praying that he wouldn’t see you. You quickly stored your book and coffee in your tote, before following him down the streets.

He led you downtown. You were always jealous of how close his apartment was to the hub of the city. The cars whizzed by you as you followed him down a boulevard of shops. Your heart stopped as you watched him walk into the jewelers. It made sense: he was getting married, rings were involved, but somehow this made it more real. He was investing thousands of dollars in this woman. He was investing his life.

The fact that it was the jewelers that you had visited back when you thought you were going to get married only made it worse. Your heart began to beat faster. Was he going to give her your ring?

3 Years Ago

"Which one do you like?"

You looked over the case carefully inspecting each ring for flaws. After five minutes, you pointed at a sapphire and diamond ring near the back. It was relatively simple, but that’s what drew you to it.

He smiled.

"Well, someday, when you're Mrs. Kim, that ring will be around your finger."

You grinned and lifted up to meet his lips.

"I love you."

"I love you more, Joonie."

"I seriously doubt that."

You giggled and followed him out the door for lunch.

As soon as he came out of the shop, you rushed in. You went straight for the case that you knew had held your precious band. It took you a minute to spot it, but when you did, you felt relief flood your body. It was still there, he wasn't forsaking you for her.

As the relief washed over you, you began to connect to reality again. You realized what you were doing. With it came the nausea. Coming back to reality was always painful. You hadn't deemed yourself a stalker yet, even know though you knew you should. The self-hatred followed you home, up the stairs and through your apartment door.

You didn't mean to follow him. Somehow, the part of you that still loved him (which was a larger part of you than you cared to admit), had gained the ability to control your actions, while the logical part of you sat in the backseat screaming. The shame continued to throb inside you as you curled up on your couch. You knew you needed to stop but you didn't know how.

You didn't and as the months passed you found yourself following him whenever you had spare time. You were careful, staying a good distance behind him. If he had noticed you, he didn't let you know. He seemed blissfully unaware. The worst part was that as you followed him, you began to realize he was truly happy: something you hadn't witnessed since the early days of your relationship.

At some point, you started bringing your camera along. You weren't sure how the pictures of him ended up on your camera roll, and then pinned to your bedroom wall. You would lay in bed at night, touching yourself with one hand, while another tightly grasped a photo of him.

In the morning, you would be so sick with yourself, you would vomit in the toilet. Three months passed like this before his dreaded wedding day arrived. The sane part of you didn't want to go, but the creepy, deviant part of you had more control, and thus you found yourself in front of the mirror in a simple sundress.

Lisa had attempted to convince you to wear a skimpy number in order to make Namjoon jealous, but you knew that Namjoon always found you sexier when you looked innocent. You had often teased him about it. So you settled for a simple floral piece and some kitten pumps.

When you walked into the venue you felt another twinge of jealousy at the grandeur. The church was old and gorgeous and you felt like a sinner just by existing in it. You sat in the back. Your nerves kept you calm enough to decide you didn't need Namjoon knowing about your presence just yet.

You blacked out for most of the ceremony. It was only when Lisa waved her hand in front of you that you realized that instead of witnessing the union of 'man and wife', you were busy daydreaming about said 'man' taking you in front of the whole church.

You stared out the window of Lisa's care wistfully as she drove to the reception. When you started to tear up, she pulled over in a park parking lot.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

You almost pulled it over, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away.

"Sis, if you don't wanna go, we don't have too. We can just head to my apartment, order Chinese food, binge Netflix, and do facemasks."

It sounded so, so tempting, but you know you needed to make it through it. You needed to prove to the part of yourself that was going insane, that you didn't need him anymore.

You thought back to the day you came home from work to find his bags packed in the living room. You thought about the tears that streamed down your face as you tried, and failed, to convince him to stay, that you loved him more than your job.

He cried too, pulling you into a hug, the last one you would ever have. You remember how his chest, which was usually so strong and comforting, trembled against yours. How you weren't sure if the wet warmth on your cheek was from him or from you.

You must have stood like that for thirty minutes, before he pulled away, gave you a last kiss, grabbed his bags and left. It wasn't until later that evening that you discovered his letter.

My Love,

I don't want to do this, but I am no longer happy. We are no longer happy. There isn't much left to us in all reality. I love you to the moon and back, but I can't spend the rest of my life waiting for you to come home from work. I know it's important to you and I would never ask you to leave it, but I have a life to live too.

You made me so happy for such a long time, but you are a writer in the dark. You stay up all night on your computer and leave me with a cold empty bed. When I wake in the morning, you're gone. I can't stay in a relationship that barely exists.

Someday, when you feel like you can put your job aside for a family, call me. I'll be here because I love you. I love you so much, it makes it hard to breathe. Be happy for me.

Love,

Namjoon

And so here you were, in a passenger seat on the way to his wedding reception. Just a girl with a broken heart and a broken promise. You needed to go. You needed to see him. Confront him.

"Drive."

You sat through dinner, barely touching the food on your plate. You listened to your friends chatter away and make snarky comments through all the speeches. When the dancing started, you were hesitant to move, but Lisa dragged you to the edge of the dance floor and forced you to witness the first dance.

You spent most of it staring at the floor nursing a martini that was almost straight gin. You finally looked up at the end of the song, some cheesy pop shit you knew Namjoon loved, and locked eyes with him. His hand was delicately placed over her waste and you secretly wondered how many hours of practice it took for him to be able to dance to this song. The waltz was never his forte.

His stare never left you and as soon as the song was over, he whispered in her ear before walking straight at you. You drowned your drink quickly, praying the alcohol would be enough to get you through whatever was coming. He grabbed your arm without saying a word and dragged you out of the ballroom and into the nearest bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

His voice was harsh, but there was a touch of tenderness to it.

"Lisa made me come. I don't want to be here anymore than you want me."

"Bullshit!"

You raised an eyebrow at his retort, signaling that you knew he knew you were lying, but you weren't going to tell him the truth.

"I just can't deal with seeing you right now. Do you know what you being here is doing to me?"

You felt a spark of anger go off inside you. He had an issue with being here? That's swell and all, but he was the one who broke up with you. He was getting married, you being here should be nothing more than a footnote.

"I don't care, Namjoon, I don't care if you're hurt or not. I don't care if it's ruining your big day. You leaving ruined my life. I have spent the last year and a half dying because you're not in my bed when I wake up in the morning. And I know that I fucked up and that I needed to be there for you, but you left me without giving me the chance to change! You. Left. Me."

Somewhere in the middle of ranting, hot tears had begun to fall down your cheek and you were once again thankful that you had splurged on waterproof makeup.

"Don't act like such a victim. At least I know that the woman I'm marrying actually loves me."

His words fanned your little spark into a full blown flame and you raised your hand to slap him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. You looked to his face expecting to see anger, but instead, his eyes showed a mixture of sadness and disappointment.

"I'm sorry." He said.

Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, soft as you had remembered them. Shock ran through your body and you froze as he continued to kiss you slowly. When he realized you weren't responding, he pulled away, a faint blush apparent on his cheeks.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you found his lips again. You immediately felt his body relax against yours as his arm snaked around your waste to pull you closer. A bittersweet feeling floated through you as you relished in his taste again. You hadn't realized how much you missed kissing him, how comforting he was.

Somewhere deep inside you was yelling that this was an illusion. That at some point he would have to leave the bathroom and go back to his new wife who would love him and give him children and grow old with him.But you squashed the voice, desperate to live in the moment. Desperate to believe that just for this time, he was yours. That you were his new wife, that you were going to have beautiful children and that in sixty years, you would be two old people stupidly in love.

The kissing quickly became messy and desperate. You unabashedly moaned to his mouth and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in his tongue. Your arms were wrapped around his neck in an attempt to keep him as close to you as possible, as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

He pulled away from you and looked you in the eyes.

"You always look so beautiful."

The comment was quiet and under his breath, but you heard him nonetheless, and warmth crept onto your cheek. Before you could respond, he picked you up and set you on the sink counter.

You welcomed him, as he stepped between your legs, returning his lips to yours. As his lips moved down your neck, his hand traced its way up your thigh, slowly moving your dress up your leg. You moaned as he began to trace circled in your inner thigh, feeling your underwear soaking through.

"Dear god, Joonie," you whine,"don't tease me."

The nickname slipped out without your awareness, but you noticed him pause subtly at the sound of it before returning to his ministrations. His lips returned to yours as he shifted your panties to the side and used his pointer finger to tease your clit.

You whined out at the sudden pleasure, legs tightening on his waist, trying to bring him closer. Trying to bring him home. When he slips a finger inside you, you throw your head back against the mirror. Your eyes squeeze shut, attention completely focused on the digit inside you.

Despite the time that had passed, he hadn't forgotten how to make you see white. With the exception of the man you had dragged back from the bar, you hadn’t been laid in forever, and as a result, you were incredibly sensitive. Right when he was about to tip you over the edge with no more than a finger, he pulled back, lust clouding his eyes, finger soaked.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

You whined at the old nickname, clenching your thighs together in a desperate attempt to relieve the ache between your thighs. Namjoon's hand drifted to the front of his slacks to massage the tent that had formed in them, while admiring your fucked out form slouched on the hotel bathroom sink.

"Answer my question baby."

A yes slips out of you and he grins like the devil.

"Look, at you, such a dirty girl, all fucked out in a public bathroom, desperate for me to fuck her."

Nothing had changed. He was still the tease who manipulated your body until you experienced cloud nine. And you were his good girl who obeyed every command, desperate to please.

You dipped your fingers into yourself in an attempt to stretch your pussy open for him, while he slowly dragged down his zipper, and pulled his cock out through the fly. Your memory served you well, but he still seemed bigger than you remembered. The tip was flushed red and dripping pre-cum. For a split second you were worried about him staining his slacks, before dashing your concern away to the depths of your consciousness.

You knew you should, but you felt no guilt for what you were about to do. As far as you were concerned, this was Namjoon’s mistake, not your’s. Sure, there was a beautiful bride dancing in the ballroom, and sure, she didn’t deserve this, but no matter what the certificate said, Namjoon would always be yours.

The realization hit you, as he kissed you again, moaning into your mouth as he rubbed the tip of his cock against you. There would always be a part of him that would belong to you. There would always be a part of his heart, no matter how small, that loved you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here, now, about to fuck you in the small, but beautiful bathroom, at his own wedding reception.

The notion made you feel powerful. Your hand quickly replaced his, and you gave him a few quick strokes before lining him up. You both moaned as his tip pressed into you. When he was fully inside, you couldn’t help but feel complete. Months of emptiness completely forgotten as he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in.

“Fuck, baby, I forgot how tight you were.”

Tears pricked in your eyes as he began to pick up pace, moving faster and faster. Despite trying hard to pretend like this moment could last forever, you knew that she would notice him missing soon, and that this moment was doomed to end. You squeezed your eye’s shut, tried to focus on the feeling of him drilling in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for his pace to become unsteady. You opened your eyes to find him staring at your face. You couldn’t read the look on his face, but it carried a strangely familiar emotion. It wasn’t until he reached down to rub quick circles on your clit that you realized what it was: love The realization had you coming around his cock. You screamed silently, tears finally falling down your face. He was close behind, burying his head in your neck as he filled you up one last time.

“I love you.”

The words were quiet. They were words that weren’t meant to be said out loud. They were words that would haunt him for the rest of his life. But they were the truth, and the truth deserved to be spoken.

“I love you too. I always will.”

You looked him in the eyes, while he softened inside you. There was a silent acknowledgement between you. An acknowledgement that neither of you wanted to admit. That you would never be together. That it would never work. That he was married.

So, while remaining completely silent, he slipped out of you, tucked himself into his slacks, fixed his hair and left. You sat there for minutes, tears rolling down your cheek. Finally, you gained enough energy to pull yourself off the sink, shift your panties back into place and walk back out into the world.

You quickly went to your table, grabbed your purse, and said goodbye to Lisa. If she smelled the sex, she didn’t say anything. When you were at the door, you looked back for half a second. He was dancing with her, laughing at something she said. He looked happy, and you prayed to God that he was.

That night you sat down at your computer and began to write your grand, tragic love story.

__________________

seven years later

You laughed as you walked out into the chill autumn air. Hoseok had that effect on you. Always had. He had just treated you to a wonderful celebration dinner in honor of your first best selling book, a novel about a woman unable to let go of her former love.

As you were about to leave your daughter tugged on his hand informing Hoseok of her need to go to the bathroom. Your husband gave you a quick kiss, before taking the four year old back inside. You stood on the sidewalk, breathing in the air and admiring the city lights, reflecting on how you got there.

A month after Namjoon’s wedding, you met Hoseok in a coffee shop you were writing at. You had hit it off pretty quickly, and two years later you were married. Your daughter, Marie, followed soon after. A month ago, your novel was finally published for the world. And so here you were, celebrating with the family that you loved so much.

“Hi.”

You looked up, startled.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, “what are you doing here?”

“I was, uh, going for a walk.”

Your gazed washed over him, and you noted that he didn’t look too good. His hair was long and unkempt, dark circles under his eyes, and his usual impeccable sense of style was thrown away for some sweats and a hoodie.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help the concern that painted your face.

“I’ve been better.”

He gave you a sad smile.

“Oh?”

“We’re going through a rough patch. I think she wants to get a divorce.”

“Oh.”

At one point, those words would've made your year, but that part of you had died a long time ago.

“Maybe we could go out for a cup of coff-”

His words stopped when he saw the diamond and sapphire ring on your finger.

“Oh.”

His face fell. It was then that Hoseok decided to grace the two of you with his presence. Namjoon quickly looked from you, to Hoseok, to your daughter, as he slowly began to put the picture together.  He looked pained. You knew the look, the look of loss.

“Who’s this?”

Hoseok’s voice was cheery and you were once again grateful for your husband’s consistant happiness.

“An old friend. You take Marie to the car, and I’ll catch up with you in a sec.”

He nodded, happy to oblige. When he was out of earshot, you turned back to Namjoon.

“You were supposed to call.”

You stared blankly at him.

“What?” you finally ask.

“You were supposed to call when you were ready to have a family.”

You looked at him in shock.

“Namjoon, you got married.”

“I know, but I would’ve left her for you.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m not. I still love you. And you still love me. You promised me you would forever.”

“Well, it was a naive promise to make.”

He looked like he was about to cry.

“Look, Joon, go home. I know you loved your wife, and I’m willing to guess you still do. Relationships take work, you know that. You’ve alwayknown that. Show her that she means the world to you. Whatever’s going on, you can make it through it. Whatever part of you still loves me, kill it.”

He nods

“I have to go. But call me when you’re in a better spot, okay?”

You hand him a business card, before walking away into the night.

A month later, you get a text.

“We made it work. Coffee on Wednesday?”

You smiled.

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