#evil trinity complete

[thismustbeso]

X @outlanderredactedmoment / The Virgin of the Lilies (1899), William-Adolphe Bouguereau / Pieta (1876), William-Adolphe Bouguereau / Virgin and Child with Angels (1610), Giulio Cesare Procaccini

Christian imagery in Outlander: Part 3/3

[cheese-rat29]

this may be the old superwholock tumor in me but toby in impossible planet looks way too much like lucifer in spn

[astra-ravana]

Witch's Runes

The Witch's Runes are a set of 13 pictographic runes. They are cast similarly in fashion to Futhark runes and interpreted using one's intuition.

To use Witch's Runes for divination, form a question in your mind and push that thoughtform into your runes. When this is complete, cast them all at once, like dice. Only the face up runes are relevant to the reading, disregard any that fall face down. The most significant rune in the reading is the one furthest from you. If all the runes are face down, you aren't yet meant to know the answer (if this happens don't attempt another reading for at least a week). You can also seek general guidance by drawing a single rune.

Witch's Rune Meanings

Sun

• New beginnings

• Good news

• Abundance

• Good health

• Fertility

• Joy

• Growth

• Prosperity

• Gods

Moon

• Intuition

• Long-term changes

• Transition

• Mystery

• Dreams

• Emotion

• Healing

• Psychic ability

• Shadow work

• Goddesses

Flight

• Communication

• Spirit messages

• Travel

• Birds

• News

• Information

• Movement

• Ascension

Rings

• Connections

• Binding

• Family

• Teams

• Alliances

• Alchemy

Romance

• Love

• Relationship

• Deep emotional connections

• Life, death, and rebirth

• Trinity

• Harmony

Woman

• The feminine

• Traditional female characteristics

• Birth

• Creativity

• Life blood

• Home

• Motherhood

• Life

Man

• The masculine

• Traditional male characteristics

• Action

• Goals

• Provider

• Strength

• Vitality

• Justice

• War

Harvest

• Blessings

• Rewards

• Abundance

• Wealth

• Security

• Manifestation

• Plants

• Education

• Self-investment

Crossroads

• Decisions

• Opportunities

• The unknown

• The in-between

• Blockages

• Spirits

• Hesitation

• Deals

Star

• Guidance

• Gifts

• Light in the dark

• Navigation

• Astrology

• Other worlds

• Destiny

• Authenticity

• Freedom

• Wishes

• Hope

Waves

• Being moved

• Deep connection to the spirit world

• Raw emotion

• Purity

• Rejuvenation

• Land of the dead

• Momentum

• Overwhelm

• Recovery

Scyth

• Sudden change

• Ending of an era

• Release

• Clearing the way

• Waning

• Death

• Reaping

• Autumn

• Final decision

• Danger

Eye

• Lifting of the veil

• Protection

• Watching

• Clairvoyance

• Awareness

• Evil eye

• Seeing the truth

• Focus

• Psychic abilities

[wongyuseokie]

Exile | k.m.g

Summary: You two were high school sweethearts, and your love story was something only found in the scripts of a shitty teenage rom-com, but he was a jock, and you were shy and quiet. It shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Now, fast forward ten years, and things aren’t the same. Your lives aren’t the same; he’s stuck in the past, and you only focus on the future. Neither of you has your priorities straight, and neither realises that your present is a complete and utter mess. You won’t let him go because he’s all you’ve ever known, and he won’t let you go because you’re the only thing right in his life, but will love and high school promises keep you two together?

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 20,221 words

Pairings: Kim Mingyu x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will) 

Content Warnings: Slice of Life AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this won’t be a nice one, or will it hee-hee). Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments. Couples counselling–do note I am not an actual therapist. I just write fiction. Incredibly angsty. Body insecurities and mentions of blood are not much or graphic. Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do this). Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). Multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Use of sex toys. Hickies. Dry humping. Mingyu cums in his trousers (but like, what can I say? He’s in love). Shower sex.   Authors Note 1: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe. 

Author’s Note 2: Thank you to my darling @the-boy-meets-evil for beta'ing this despite being so busy. I love you dearly. Part of the Broken Illusions Stories

© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.

“Okay, I kept my mouth shut the entire dinner, but honey, this is the fifth time you’ve been back home since you and Mingyu moved in together, and I still see no ring. No signs of a marriage, nothing,” your mother started to say as she sipped her wine, making you groan as you took a large gulp of yours. 

“Can we not ruin every trip back home with this?” You moaned, and your mother shrugged. 

“I’m ruining nothing, but honey, ten years, and you two still aren’t engaged or together. As a mother, I want to know you have stability,” your mother spoke, looking down at the red-coloured liquid in her glass. 

“I don’t need a husband for stability,” you bit back, making your mother raise her brow in disapproval at you with your tone. 

“I never said that, but how long do you two just plan on dating? You two have moved in and been together for ten years. Now? Honey, he hasn’t even come back to visit the last two times you came,” your mother continued explaining, making you groan. 

“I’m thinking he dodged a bullet,” you mumbled, earning a sigh from your mother. 

“Besides, he hasn’t even proposed, so why should I pressure him?” You suggested, and your mother frowned at you. 

“You could ask him?” Your mother offered gently, and you sighed deeply.

“Or are you like him? Dragging your feet?” Your mother questioned, and you shrugged. 

“We’re comfortable. Why is that not enough for you?” You asked, genuinely wondering why your mother always brought this topic up.

“Is it enough for you? To be comfortable? If that’s what you are willing to settle for, then sure, but my love, comfort is fine, but it’s dangerous. When you’re too comfy in a relationship, you take every second for granted, and you think it’ll last forever, and you get lazy,” your mother lectured, making you roll your eyes at her. 

“Can you stop projecting your marriage or failed marriage onto my thriving relationship?” You asked immediately, feeling guilt surge through your veins at your harsh words. 

Your mother only ever wanted to help you. 

“Mum,” you started to say, stopping when she held a hand up to stop you. 

“It’s because of my failed marriage I can spot the warning signs from a mile away. I’m not saying you and Mingyu will be a repeat of what your father and I were, but if you don’t get clarity on where you two stand, you’ll always be in the grey with him,” your mother explained before finishing off her drink. 

“I don’t need him to prove anything to me, but when was the last time you spoke about the future?” Your mother asked, and you fumbled to give her an answer and came up blank, making your mother only sigh more. 

“Get some rest. You have an early train to catch tomorrow. This is food for thought,” your mother said kindly before standing up to hug you and heading upstairs. 

You sighed deeply, took in the night sky, and thought hard. 

You and Mingyu stopped discussing the future when he kissed you at sixteen. Sure, you two were young, but you knew in your heart he was the one. But as your relationship progressed, Mingyu seemed to hold onto the past, and anytime the future would come up, he’d change topics and walk away, and if he tried to reminisce, you’d walk away. 

You two were in different tenses, but neither of you ever wanted to acknowledge the present. 

The present, where the last time you two had a date night was five months ago, and the last time he made love to you—properly, not just a quick fuck or a sloppy blowjob—but the last time he was intimate with you, was also five months ago. The present you and Mingyu shared looked like a foreshadowing of a hollow future. You let out a frustrated groan. 

You and Mingyu had to talk if you wanted to save whatever you two had, but why did it feel like a part of you had already let go?

“Sweetie, the wine may have made me too bold, and I apologise for overstepping. Your relationship is none of my business,” your mother apologised for the fifth time that day, and the most recent apology was in the car on the way to the train station. 

“It’s fine. I guess you’re not wrong. You did give me a lot to think about. I got defensive because I’ve felt distant from him, we’ve both not had the time, and I guess I felt like you were calling me out when I know that’s not the case,” you admitted, and your mother gave you a soft smile before turning back to look at the road. 

“It’s like a bandaid; maybe he feels the same, and a talk will help, but keeping it in your head, where your demons lie, that’s the worst, so just rip it off and let the wound heal with time,” your mother said wisely making you smile. 

“If anything goes wrong, I’m always a safe place for you to come home to,” your mother added, and you nodded at her, thanking her profusely as you hugged her goodbye. While you appreciated her offer, you did not want to be back here sobbing and seeking refuge in a week. 

 You shook your head, trying to free yourself of the thoughts taking over your mind, taunting you, that you and Mingyu were destined to end. 

You two would be fine; you both survived high school and university and would continue to do so in the long run, but one question kept plaguing your mind. 

Why was the main aim to survive? 

Why wasn’t it to rekindle the flame? 

Why did it feel so desperate, and why did he feel so far away? ~~ Warning Signs  ~~

It felt weird. That’s the first thing you noted the minute you placed your hand on the doorknob of your apartment. You usually didn’t notice such insignificant details, but the doorknob felt cold.

Was it a preemptive sign that you’d be greeted with coldness from Mingyu? 

Or was it the frost that had settled over your relationship that made everything you touched feel cold?

You drew in a deep breath for courage, something to face him. You knew him forever and didn’t know where the sudden apprehension came from. Why did it all feel so difficult? 

“Baby!” You were greeted with Mingyu yelling. His arms moved to wrap around your waist and carried you as he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Missed you,” Mingyu mumbled against your lips, making you smile, but that moment was short-lived when you saw the state of the house. 

“What’s wrong? I know I didn’t do anything, considering you just walked in?” Mingyu joked, placing you down on the floor. 

“The house is a state. You knew I was coming home today. Why is it such a mess?” You complained, and Mingyu frowned, following you into the living room. 

“Why don’t you nap, and I’ll clean up?” Mingyu offered, and you shook your head. 

“How would I sleep if you’re cleaning up? It’d be noisy, jeez, Mingyu. You know it’s not rocket science to keep a household together,” you nagged, making him frown at you. 

“Why are you like this? You just walked into the house and started bitching, I thought you’d update me about how the trip was, but instead, you’re here kicking up a fuss,” Mingyu threw back, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“A fuss? Mingyu, there’s nothing to update. All I got was the third degree about why my boyfriend of ten years can’t commit to anything more. Coming home, I realised her concerns were warranted because you’re still that kid, Mingyu. You wanted to be composed and strong, but even vocalising a future without him hurt you. You need to grow up because I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” your voice faltered at your last words. 

“Wow, why don’t you tell me how you feel?” Mingyu mocked sarcastically, and you knew what he was doing. He was using his pride to cover his hurt, and you hated this quality of his. It made him annoying and standoffish. 

“I’m so over this. When you want to grow up and have a conversation like an adult, find me, but I’m taking a nap, and once I’m done, I’ll clean up; don’t bother helping. I’m used to cleaning up your messes for you,” you spat, knowing your words hit Mingyu hard. There is so much venom lacing your comments, piercing Mingyu’s heart. 

“The bedroom, you should sleep in the guest room. It’s a mess in our bedroom,” Mingyu mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him, scoffing. 

“Of course it fucking is. What in this house isn’t a mess?” You asked, making Mingyu look down to the ground. You knew you had gone too far, but you had to make him hear you, and sadly, he only heard you when you were like this. 

“Whatever, I’m going to take a nap,” you mumbled, not having the energy to fight any longer as sleep started seeping into your bones. 

You awoke a couple feeling extraordinarily guilty and groggy, but Mingyu should have known better. You never needed the house to look perfect, but it should have been clean. Or livable, like adults.  

You groaned, deciding to get out of bed and shower before starting the housework. At least it’d wake you up a bit. Since you were in the guestroom, you couldn’t find anything else to wear except one of Mingyu’s oversized shirts, and while you wanted to be petty and not put on anything that resembled him, you knew you were taking it too far. 

You sighed, putting on his shirt, smiling at you wrapped up in his clothes, taking in his scent. You never told him, but it always felt like he hugged you tightly, keeping you safe whenever you wore his clothes. They were like a security blanket, one you needed desperately because the owner of the clothes lately gave you no assurance about the relationship. 

“Mingyu?” You spoke as you stepped out into the hallway and walked into the living room. It was neat, clean, and tidy, and you immediately felt guilty. Mingyu didn’t deserve your harsh words; he would eventually get the job done, but that’s the problem. It was inevitable, and you didn’t know if you could wait any longer. 

You walked towards your shared bedroom to find Mingyu fluffing the pillows and jumping slightly when you touched his back, startling him. 

“Sorry, you woke up early, nearly done,” Mingyu rambled, and your heart broke when you heard his voice crack and took in his swollen, red eyes and puffy nose. 

“Baby,” you cooed, and Mingyu glared at you, jerking away from your touch. 

“Don’t call me that. I’m not a fucking kid,” Mingyu spat as he threw the pillow onto the bed and walked over to his side of the bed and sat down, and you crawled onto the bed and sat between his thighs, making him look at you.

“I’m so sorry, I was frustrated,” you apologised, and Mingyu scoffed. 

“You used all my insecurities, our past, and the fights we’ve had against me, and that sucked. You called me a kid. You insinuated that I couldn’t keep a household together when I’ve fought tirelessly for us for the past ten years,” Mingyu exclaimed in annoyance, his words making you snap. 

“No, you didn’t fight for us; you fought just to have the idea of us, but you got comfortable, but that’s all you’ve ever done. You’ve never taken the next step,” you cried out, and Mingyu groaned. 

“You’re insane. I fought, kept up with your life, adjusted mine, and did all that because I love you, but I don’t know what else to do because clearly, nothing I do is enough for you,” Mingyu answered, his voice getting softer. 

“You’re right, you did, but you stopped and got comfortable fuck, Mingyu. I don’t know if you see a future with me. You’ve given me no indication,” you started to say, earning a glare from Mingyu. 

“What do you want me to propose?” Mingyu asked, making you glare at him. 

“Not like this, and not because I forced you,” you added, and Mingyu groaned, getting off the bed and fiddling around in the drawer next to you. 

“I was going to do it tonight,” Mingyu admitted calmly as he tossed a black velvet box onto the bed. 

“What?” You asked, and Mingyu rolled his eyes at your confused expression. 

“I was going to give you forever tonight, but you never fucking wait, do you? You always rush into the future without caring for what you leave behind. You’ve been five steps ahead of me for so long, and forgive me if I slipped up somewhere along the way, but I got tired of running after you when you’re so ready to let go of me,” Mingyu answered tearfully. 

Mingyu plopped down on the bed, his back to you, his head hanging low. You could hear him take in shuddered breaths, and your heart broke because you knew you had hurt him this time. 

“Mingyu,” you started to say, moving simultaneously to place a hand on his shoulder, making him look at you with teary eyes as he turned around to sit on the edge of the bed to face you. 

“I know I’m not everything you want in a partner. I just thought our love would be stronger. That it would conquer everything, that you’d love me harder than our problems? I know I did, but I guess that’s how immature I am because I guess that’s not reality,” Mingyu lamented, and even though you knew his words could be misconstrued to hurt you, that wasn’t the case. He was thinking out loud. 

“Mingyu,” you repeated, making him sigh as he moved back to sit against the headboard, patting the space between his thighs again. This time, you moved to sit between them quickly, your hands moving to pull him into a tight embrace.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled into Mingyu’s hair as you patted his back, moving as he cried into the embrace. 

“For what?” Mingyu mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. 

“For ruining a proposal?” Mingyu asked, letting out a dry laugh as he pulled away from the embrace, wiping his tears away and staring at you. 

“You didn’t. I guess this fight was bound to happen fuck. I knew we were falling apart, but I foolishly thought that if I ignored our problems or loved you harder, then it’d be okay, we’d be okay,” Mingyu admitted, placing a hand on your cheek and wiping away a tear. You hadn’t realised you were crying until he wiped away the tears. 

“But I only did one thing. I only ignored our problems, and I know I only ignored you. I love you more than life, but I failed to show you how much, and now I’m hoping that a shiny ring will fix it all, and I know it won’t,” Mingyu continued to speak, taking a deep breath before speaking. 

“I’ve used up all my good graces, that I’m sure of, but can we try? One more time? Please? I don’t think I can let you go, not yet. I don’t think I can ever let you go, but if you give me one more chance, my love. I’ll try, and if it’s over, I’ll let you go. Don’t give up on me,” Mingyu begged, and you nodded. 

“Mingyu, I’m so sorry. I should have conveyed my feelings to you in a healthier manner instead of simply yelling. Everything I heard from my mum this weekend was in my mind, and I couldn’t get it out. I just kept going over it, again and again, and I hated it, and I guess I just took it out all on you, and I’m so sorry,” you apologised, cradling his face in your hands. 

“No, it’s okay. I think we both saw this fight coming. I guess it’s easier to rip off the bandaid?” Mingyu joked, a sad smile adorning his handsome face. 

“I just felt so far away from you, so distant, and I guess when everyone questioned me about the integrity of my relationship. It just annoyed me, and instead of talking to you, I lashed out, and I’m sorry for that,” you apologised, meaning every word. 

“I love you; I do. I know I haven’t been good at showing it, fuck, our last date was five months ago,” Mingyu started to say, and you knew he’d begin to spiral if you didn’t shut him up in the best way you knew. 

“Mingyu,” you said softly, making him look at you as you inched closer and crawled onto his lap, his hands naturally finding your waist. 

“We’ll talk, and we’ll be okay,” you encouraged before placing your lips onto his, making him melt into your touch. His hand moved from your waist to rest on the hem of your shit, well, his shirt, but he didn’t care.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groaned as you moved your lips away from his to latch onto his neck, kissing the soft skin, gently nipping it, leaving faint marks, and running your tongue over the spots you bit. 

“Baby, if you keep doing that,” Mingyu started to say as you pulled away from his neck to peel the shirt off your body, leaving you in your underwear. 

“I know we have a lot to talk about, and sex isn’t going to fix anything, but I do, for once, want to feel close to you again. I want to be loved by you,” you admitted, and Mingyu nodded, understanding what you meant as he got off the bed and peeled off his clothes. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” you blurted out, making Mingyu laugh. 

“Ten years and you still think I’m hot?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled fondly at him. 

“You’re always the most handsome man to me, doesn’t matter how many years,” you admitted, making Mingyu smile at you. 

“Lie down on your back, princess. I need to show you just how much I love you,” Mingyu instructed, and you nodded, quickly adjusting yourself until you were lying down on the bed, head on the pillow, making Mingyu grin at you as he crawled between your legs. 

Mingyu leaned forward, wrapping his lip around your nipple while his other hand massaged your other breast. Mingyu moved his mouth to your other breast and flicked and licked your nipples until they were hard. 

Mingyu gave them a final flick, earning a whimper from you.  “Oh, the sounds you make for me. I like them,” Mingyu praised as he reached for your panties. Mingyu pulled them off and threw them across the room. Mingyu rolled his eyes and parted your legs, and placed a soft kiss on your clit, making you buck your hips into his mouth. 

Mingyu ran his tongue along your slit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, interlocking them at your stomach. Mingyu smirked against your pussy, knowing that he could eat you out for ages in this position, and you wouldn’t be able to move, and all you could do was fall apart on his tongue repeatedly.

This is precisely what Mingyu intended to do as he flicked your clit with his tongue, then wrapped his mouth around your clit, his tongue tracing circles along the swollen nub. Mingyu kept licking you, his pace never faltering, and his rhythm never changing. 

“Fucking hell,” you moaned as you threw your head back in pleasure. 

“So good,” you praised, making Mingyu smirk, continuing his movements, making you shake in his grip. 

“Mingyu,” you cried out in pleasure as you fell apart on his tongue, but Mingyu didn’t stop just because you came. He kept going, sucking on your clit as you rode your orgasm on his tongue. 

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you whimpered as he kept licking you, you were sure you were wailing, but you didn’t care. 

Not when you were on the precipice of your second orgasm. Your second orgasm hit you harder, and your hands moved to his head as you gently pushed his mouth away from your cunt. Mingyu smiled at you, taking in your fucked out expression.

You sat up abruptly, reaching out to touch his hard cock, but Mingyu stopped you. 

“Not tonight. I need to feel you, my love,” he said as he took his cock in his hands and moved to line it up along your pussy. 

“Fuck,” you gasped out as he entered you. It had been, so you two had sex, so the stretch was a slight shock but one you’d gladly welcome.  “Baby, you’re so tight, fuck,” Mingyu hissed as he pushed in further, making you clench around him immediately. You moaned as Mingyu bent down to pull you into a kiss as he started to thrust into you. 

You groaned and babbled nonsense as Mingyu pounded into you, moving his hand down to rub your clit as he fucked you. 

“Fuck,” you choked out, holding onto his toned arms. 

“Cum, pretty girl,” Mingyu encouraged as his fingers moved faster against your clit, making you shake and tighten on his cock. 

You held onto his muscular arms, “cum, baby,” Mingyu spoke breathlessly, making you shake and tighten around him. It felt incredible, making Mingyu groan as you came around him. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Mingyu chanted as he pounded into you, groaning as he buried his head between your breasts as he came. Mingyu placed a soft kiss on your lips, slowly pulling out of you. 

“That was amazing,” you muttered. Mingyu smiled as he laid down next to you and pulled you into his toned chest,

“I’m not saying this to avoid anything, but I know I skipped every step to make things right,” Mingyu said, pulling away gently from you.  

“Look, you’ve had a long journey home and a shitty welcome back. I ordered dinner. It should be here soon. Help yourself. Why don’t we chat tomorrow?” Mingyu offered, and you nodded at him. 

Mingyu smiled softly as he moved closer to you and kissed your forehead softly. 

“We’ll be okay,” he said with a smile, except you didn’t know if you could believe him. 

Despite the mind-blowing sex, you had just opened a bandaid that held in ten years of hurt. 

Now it was open. You would have to feel every burn and sting before you two could heal, and what if that wound was too far gone to recover?

 What if there was no saving you two?

~~ You Were My Crown  ~~

“Morning,” you mumbled to Mingyu the following day when he walked into the kitchen, hair wet, fresh out of the shower, handsome as always. 

“Hey,” Mingyu replied, walking over to kiss your forehead, smiling fondly at you as he sighed, sitting down on one of the counters by the kitchen island. 

“So, I was thinking that after last night, as amazing as it was, we should talk,” Mingyu said, and you pouted, nodding. 

While you did want to just bask in the bliss and romance of last night with him, you knew if you kept pushing your feelings down, then there would be no saving you two, so you decided to sit across from him, making him grin as he placed a business card on your lap. 

“A divorce attorney? Hate to break to you, but we aren’t married,” you joked as you picked up the card. 

“Oh, couples counselling?” You said aloud, reading the card, and Mingyu nodded at you. 

“I got this from one of my Hyung. They said that when they were about almost to call it quits with their partner, they went here, and even if it was painful and made them feel vulnerable, it’s the only thing that kept them together,” Mingyu explained, placing a hand on your knee. 

“You think we’re that far gone that we need professional help?” You asked with a dry laugh, and Mingyu shrugged. 

“I don’t think we’re too far gone, but we’ve been together for so many years that I don’t think it’d be too shocking if we’re both holding in a lot and not being straight up with each other, at times and I don’t want what happened last night to happen again. I don’t want us holding things in and exploding,” Mingyu answered calmly. 

“Even if the sex was amazing,” Mingyu added, making you smile at him. 

“Okay, shall we sort out an appointment or what?” You asked, making Mingyu smile sheepishly at you. 

“I kind of already sorted a slot out for us. They open early. They got us a slot today at 4 pm. Is that okay?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him. 

“Should I take it as a good sign that you’re so eager to fix us? Or a bad sign that you’re so ready to vent about me?” You joked, making Mingyu pout at you. 

“A good sign; I love you so much, and I’ll be damned if I let you go without a fight,” Mingyu answered. 

“Let me go?” You repeated.

“I mean if you want out and realise you deserve better after all this, I guess I’ll let you go,” Mingyu mumbled, unable to look at you. His answering, albeit genuine, made you scoff at him. 

“Wow, nice to see your resignation already,” you muttered, making Mingyu sigh deeply. 

“I’m not giving up, but tell me you don’t already have one foot out the door?” Mingyu asked, making you baulk at him. 

“Why would you even think that?” You asked, and Mingyu rolled his eyes at you, letting out a humourless chuckle. 

“You weren’t here, but a gift hamper did arrive from your boss, and while I never snoop, the card was stuck on the hamper. It was a card nudging you to take the plunge and be a manager. Across the world. Might I add? When were you going to tell me?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed. 

“You said you didn’t want to hear about work at home, remember?” You fired back, and Mingyu groaned. 

“I told you that five months ago when I had just lost my job, I wanted you to be able to speak to me. I don’t want surprises like that,” Mingyu gritted, and you sighed. 

“So I’m meant to be able to read your mind?” You asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 

“It’d be so much easier, wouldn’t it? You never give me a warning ever. You just fucking blindside me, you did this with this apartment, and you did it with this possible promotion,” Mingyu fumed, making you blink at him. 

“Look, can we just save this for the therapist?” Mingyu said, inhaling deeply, and you nodded at him, unable to speak. 

The apartment? You thought to yourself. Mingyu was elated when you brandished the new keys three years ago. Just how much had he held in, and for how long? 

You were ignoring Mingyu for the rest of the day. Even when he came to get you to go to the therapist’s office, you glared at him, ignoring his outstretched hand, walked past him to your car and waited impatiently for him to get in so you could drive to the therapist’s office. 

“Can you at least wait for me to put my seatbelt on? Before you start driving?” Mingyu asked sarcastically, annoyance lacing his words. 

“Not my fault you’re fucking slow,” you bit back. You weren’t even sure what you were mad about, the fact that the gift ambushed him and didn’t give you a chance to explain. You felt guilty, and instead of speaking to him about that, you thought it’d be best to mask your hurt with insults. 

“So, fucking slow,” Mingyu muttered, buckling himself in, and you started to drive once he was safely fastened. 

“So, fucking slow, I’m always behind, aren’t I? I never know what you’re up to, or maybe that’s because you’re too fast,” Mingyu spat out in annoyance. 

“I waited for you to put your seatbelt on, right?” You retorted weakly, making Mingyu scoff at you. 

“That’s the only time you’ve waited for me, and if killing me wasn’t a crime, then I’m sure you would have driven off without a care for me,” Mingyu fumed, making you cower in your seat.

Is that what he thought of you? 

You tried not to let it show. You tried not to let the hurt show, but you couldn’t hold it in once you were in the parking lot of the therapist’s office. 

“We can get out, you know?” Mingyu sassed, earning a choked sob from you. 

“Is that what you think of me? I’m so busy trying to move ahead that I’d leave you for dead?” You asked, staring at Mingyu; your eyes blurred with tears, and your heart ached at Mingyu’s words. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just fuck. I got frustrated,” Mingyu started to say, earning a glare from you.

“I get frustrated too, and you know, especially with you and our situation, but I have never once wished that you were dead. I wish we’d stop fighting and we were on the same page, sure, but dead? Fuck you, Mingyu,” you cried out, making Mingyu frown as he reached over to undo your seatbelt and pulled you across the console onto his lap. 

“I hate that you even could think of that. How could you think I would even want you dead?” You asked, smacking your fists childishly against his chest, making him pout as he took your hands into his. 

“I’m sorry, I am. I did misspeak. In some shitty way, I feel like if you do ever leave me, then it sure as shit will feel like death,” Mingyu admitted making you frown. 

“Why are you so hell-bent on the idea that I will leave you?” You asked, annoyed at his rhetoric, that you’d leave him. 

“I don’t know. After last night, the way you lost it, I don’t blame you, but damn, can you blame me. As I said, the way you reacted last night hurt. While I’m not shocked, I can’t deny that it hurt, but that wasn’t an excuse for what I said,” Mingyu answered, and you nodded at him. 

“You’re damn right it wasn’t,” you choked out, making Mingyu smile softly at you. 

“How’s this when the therapist asks what my downfalls are? I’ll explain that I’m not great at filtering my thoughts?” Mingyu offered, cradling your face, and you pouted, nodding at him. 

“No, that’s unnecessary, just don’t say stupid shit like that,” you pouted, and Mingyu nodded, kissing your lips. 

“I won’t, I promise. Now shall we go before someone thinks that we’re fucking in the car?” Mingyu asked, a smile creeping onto his handsome face, and you nodded, giggling at him. 

“Would that be so bad?” You teased, and Mingyu smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

“No, it wouldn’t, but our appointment is in ten minutes, so shall we?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, placing a final kiss on his lips. 

“Let’s go,” Mingyu said, sneaking another kiss as you finally climbed out of the car. 

“Please make yourselves comfortable, and Doctor Kwan will be out to see you both in a minute,” the receptionist at the therapist’s office instructed you and Mingyu, and you both nodded before plopping onto the sofa. 

“This is so oddly comforting. I mean, the room, I thought it’d be like a doctor’s office, but it has a sofa and tissues and flowers on the wall,” you rambled nervously. 

“Yeah, I guess therapists want you to be comfortable, especially when you’re about to be very vulnerable for them,” Mingyu offered lamely, unable to come up with a proper answer. You saw him fidgeting and took his hands in yours. 

“Breathe. We’re here to work on ourselves. We’re going to be okay,” you said calmly, not entirely sure if what you said was a lie, but right now, you didn’t care if you had to lie to him. He was too jumpy.

“Mr & Mrs Kim, please accept my apologies. I just wanted to prepare the notes before we begin our session,” Dr. Kwan said as he sat across you two. 

“Well, you might want to apologise again. We aren’t married,” Mingyu said with a smile, but his voice had no real humour. You were prepared to ignore Mingyu’s quip until you saw him shoot a glare in your direction. 

“Oh, but we would have been, but tell me, Dr Kwan, am I meant to say yes when someone tosses a ring at me?” You shot back, and Mingyu scoffed, letting go of your hand and sinking into the couch. 

“We need your help because nothing I do is ever enough for her,” Mingyu spat out, making you groan. 

“Well, good to know what I’m walking into, Mr Kim. I should tell you that I most certainly knew you weren’t married. Often, couples hide their pain from their therapists, pretend it’s all good, and then tear each other apart behind closed doors. It was, hmm, call it a trick? This way, I can understand how temperamental and fragile this situation and I can provide and facilitate a safe space for you, too,” Dr Kwan explained, making Mingyu glare at him. 

“So, you made me insult my girlfriend for science?” Mingyu mocked, and you sighed. 

“No, he just pushed a button that I’d push, and you’d do the same behind closed doors, too, so instead of embarrassing me further, can you please shut up and let him work?” You asked curtly.  

“Okay, let me set a few ground rules before I get to work,” Dr Kwan started to say as Mingyu shot you a sad look. You immediately felt bad for snapping at him, but you couldn’t forget how ridiculous he was. 

 “Y/N, is it okay to address you by your first name?” Dr Kwan asked. You nodded.

“Mr Kim, is it okay to address you as Mingyu?” Dr Kwan asked, looking at Mingyu, and he hummed in response. 

“Perfect,” Dr Kwan said, leaning back. 

“As I was saying, rules. While I’m giving you guys a safe space to work things through, you must also be committed to ensuring this space stays safe. I appreciate anger, annoyance and frustration, but snarky, underhanded digs will not be tolerated or helped. Telling the other to shut up won’t help either. You can disagree and provide your perspective, but you will not interrupt or ignore each other and talk over one another. Can we agree to that?” Dr Kwan asked, staring at you both, and you nodded immediately.

“Good, now, let’s start. What made you fall in love with Mingyu?” Dr Kwan asked, immediately jumping into the session. You found it a little unorthodox but liked that he didn’t waste time with small talk. 

“We started dating in high school, months before graduation. He was a kind guy, and while he could have fit the bill of a stereotypical jock, he didn’t. He was humble, kind and grounded. I guess he was a jock with a heart,” you smiled softly, recalling that Mingyu was indeed just that. 

“He and I were paired up for a project, and I guess after we got our grades, I gave him a big hug, and somehow that hug turned into a kiss, and I guess, ten years later, here we are, in therapy,” your sweet tone fading and turning into a biter tone as you looked at the floor. 

“See, this is what she does, thinks of something nice and then fucks it up by following it up with some realistic bullshit. You were doing so well just reminiscing, and you couldn’t just stick to it?” Mingyu asked, his voice rising. 

“Another rule, no yelling,” Dr Kwan warned, making Mingyu groan. 

“She never lets us be happy long enough. She must always bring up something that kills the moment,” Mingyu added bitterly. 

“Then why are you with me if I’m such a killjoy?” you taunted, making Mingyu wipe away a tear. 

“Because I fucking love you because you’re so amazing and sure you’re persistent. The need to always think about the future is a pain. But I’m okay with it because I assumed I was part of that future, but I’m not sure if I still am recently,” Mingyu mumbled, making you groan. 

“You two need to hit reset. There’s a lot here, I want to see you both separately and together, but I need you two to try something for now. Throughout therapy, we will uncover a lot, a lot of love that you two have for each other, but we will also uncover a lot of pain and hurt, and I don’t want either of you not to have a space to cry it out, so can I suggest that for the next three months, we try something?” Dr Kwan offered, and you both nodded. 

“Anything to save us,” Mingyu mumbled, and you scooched over closer to him, placing your hand on his thigh, making him smile sweetly at you. 

“Ten years is a long time, and sometimes, you become accustomed to each other, which is wonderful, but it also means you hold in a lot. Anger, resentment and hurt, but because you’ve been together so long, you often suppress these emotions and hope they’ll go away, but they don’t. Instead, they linger like bad perfume, and it gets too much, and that’s where you two are now. I can see you are trying your best to hold onto the relationship, but you’re also scared, to be honest, for fear that it’ll go away, so here’s what I suggest,” Dr Kwan explained, pausing to take a sip of his water. 

“So, here’s what I propose, separate bedrooms for the next three months. You two can talk and kiss and be cuddly, but no sex because sex, as good as it may be, undoes a lot of the work, so if you two slip up, I won’t be mad, but it’s more work on your end. This process will take a lot out of you both, therapy, and it’s going to be new adjusting to a new dynamic, but it’s to allow you both a safe space to vent and to be you two have been with each other you’ve lost yourselves along the way, it’s time to find what you two are as individuals before you two can be a couple again,”

 “We never broke up. You know that, right?” Mingyu said, glaring at Dr. Kwan. 

“I’m aware, but you two are also just holding on, and I’m guessing that’s not enough?” Dr Kwan challenged, and Mingyu huffed out. 

“So, what we move out? Or one of us does?” Mingyu asked, continuing to glare at Dr. Kwan. 

“We have three bedrooms; we can just separate our stuff. We can each move into one of them for now,” you suggested, placing a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and making him look at you with sad eyes. 

“I just, I get that this is therapy, but why does it feel like you’re making us break up before we even have a chance,” Mingyu answered sadly, making you smile softly at him. 

“I’m telling you two to hit reset. You both need a fresh start, not away from each other, but you two need a break,” Dr Kwan answered softly, and Mingyu sighed, nodding. 

 “It’s three months, and we will evaluate every week. Is that good?” Dr. Kwan asked, and you nodded, noticing that Mingyu nodded slowly. 

“Three months, and we’ll be, okay?” Mingyu asked, turning to face you. 

“Yeah, we will,” you answered, unsure if you two would be, but you had to try.  

You had to try for him. 

For you.  ~~ I’m Not Your Problem Anymore  ~~

“So, that went well?” Mingyu said slowly, making you roll your eyes at his words as you kept driving. 

“The digs, the underhanded comments, you think that went well?” You asked, and Mingyu frowned. 

“You weren’t exactly a saint either,” Mingyu mumbled, and you sighed deeply. 

“Can we deal with this once we get home? I don’t fancy fighting while I’m driving,” you asked, and Mingyu hummed in response as he stared out the window, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. 

“Talk,” Mingyu practically demanded the minute you shut the front door behind you. 

“Why the hell are you speaking to me like that?” You asked, and Mingyu groaned as he kicked off his shoes before sitting on the couch. 

 “You said some shitty things, and while I admit so did I, you acted like a child,” you started to say, stopping when you saw Mingyu’s hardened expression. 

“What is it with you calling me a child? May I remind you that we’re the same age?” Mingyu asked, glaring at you. 

“Then act like a fucking adult, you don’t talk, you lash out, and you just hope that love fixes everything, but it doesn’t. It’s not enough to keep two people together when they’re breaking apart,” you exclaimed, frustrated at yourself for being unable to maintain your calm and at him for never being realistic. 

“You always said that love will keep us together, that our love was stronger than anything out there. What happened to that girl? What happened to the girl who made wishes upon stars, kissed me goodnight, and hugged me whenever I was down? I fell in love with her,” Mingyu lamented, making your heart drop. 

“So, you don’t love me anymore?” You whispered, afraid of his answer. 

“I do, my love, but I’m just not sure you do,” Mingyu said, moving to wipe away a tear that fell down your cheek. 

“Why do you keep suggesting that?” You asked, shrugging his touch off, making him pout. 

“Well, you just moved away from my touch, in general, over, I don’t know, the last two years you’ve been in the future, and you’ve left me in the dust; you left me all alone. I mean, hell, I was the happiest when you told me you wanted to move in with me, but you didn’t even bother asking me to view a place. You just got the keys and showed up at my doorstep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but it always felt like you’d cut me out of the process whenever you could,” Mingyu explained, his eyes getting glossy. 

“I know you wouldn’t intentionally make me feel unwanted, but that’s what it felt like. I felt like an understudy, waiting in the wings for you to consider my opinion,” Mingyu said. 

“I didn’t know,” you said lamely, and Mingyu nodded. 

“You wouldn’t, I never told you, and you’re not a mind reader, nor do I expect you to be. It would have been nice to know that you still cared for me even if everything went bad. Hell, the night I lost my job, you just kissed me and told me it’d be alright, and I get it, it’s a hard thing to comfort someone about, but my love, you didn’t even try, and granted, I’m sure there have been moments where I haven’t done my bit. Still, we were the couple that annoyed others with how mushy we were and how much we adored each other. Now it just feels like we tolerate each other,” Mingyu finished standing up, and you stood up and reached for his wrist, making him turn around to look at you. 

“Can you not walk away?” You asked, not a shred of anger in your voice. You just wanted to hear him. 

“I’m not. I am, however, getting some wine because I think we’ll need it,” Mingyu replied, pulling you into his chest and placing the softest kiss on your forehead. 

“Okay, so let’s talk,” you said, not wasting a second as Mingyu returned to the couch with two glasses of wine. 

“You waste no time, do you?” Mingyu asked, chuckling, and you shrugged. 

“I’d rather fix us sooner than later,” you commented, and Mingyu shrugged.

“Don’t good things take time? Besides, this isn’t something you can rush; didn’t you always tell me that patience is a virtue and that all good things take time?” Mingyu mumbled as he sipped his wine, making you glare at him. 

“What is with you and reminding me of everything I once did? Is that what you want? The ‘old’ me? The one you fell in love with ten years ago?” You snapped, making Mingyu frown. 

“You keep missing the point, I don’t yearn for the ‘old’ you, but I yearn for your love. It just seems like you’re putting up with me. I only remember the ‘old’ you because no matter how much we fought, I at least knew that you loved me,” Mingyu mumbled, making you frown at him. 

“Don’t fix it by saying that you love me. I know you do, but I wonder if you’re still in love me because that’s a big difference. I mean, some I know you do, but other days I feel like I’m watching you, unsure if I fit anywhere in your life, but what scares me most is that I’m not so sure I fit in your heart any longer,” Mingyu admitted taking a deep breath, before looking at you with teary eyes. 

“Can you tell me when I’ve hurt you? I’m sure it must have been many times with how you feel, but maybe the most recent example?” You asked, unsure how to respond to the fact that Mingyu poured his heart out to you, and all you could do was make him relive a moment where you had hurt him. 

“Not hearing about the promotion, that sucked, like I had to find out because of a present. Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asked, nothing but hurt and genuine curiosity etching his features. 

“I guess when you told me you didn’t want to hear about work, I just stopped telling you. I didn’t want to make you upset,” you admitted lamely. 

“My love, I got over being let go. If I’m not wrong, I said that once, and a month later, I remember being fine and asking you to tell me about work and the hardships or the bad days at work, but you never did. You decided you wouldn’t share that part of your life with me. While I can understand why you thought I would continue holding a grudge, do you think I’d hold it until it broke us in two?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 

“Would you have taken the job?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted, and Mingyu nodded at you. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m over it, and if it’s something that’s in the past, I’m okay never to bring it up again,” Mingyu offered, and you smiled at him. 

“I’d like that a lot,” you answered. 

“I acted out of line with what I said in the car, and you’re right. I did act like a kid at the therapist’s office, but it’s just when it comes to the idea of possibly even losing you? Then my ability to think straight and act rationally goes to shit because there’s nothing rational about love, but you find that balance, and I’m willing to work on myself but wait for me? While I try and catch up?” Mingyu asked, making your lips tremble, and your tears fall. 

“I think for so long,” you started to say, pausing to wipe your tears away. 

“For so long, I thought you didn’t care. I thought you got comfortable, wanted to leave, or be comfortable enough to stay but not be with me. So I kept pushing on with my life because I didn’t think you wanted me to be in your future,” you admitted, staring into the wine glass. 

“Y/N, you and I. I guess we’ve both been living in different tenses. I’ve been too busy reminiscing our past, and you’ve been running into the future. It’s left our present a fucking shit show,” Mingyu observed, making you giggle at his description. 

“Let’s try? I want you to have the most amazing future, but can I ask you to slow down? Ever so slightly? To let me find my footing. I want to catch up with you so we can have a future. Together?” Mingyu asked, pulling you closer to him. 

“I can, and I’m sorry,” you apologised, and Mingyu shook his head. 

“It’s okay, from here on out, what we’ve both done, it’s forgotten and forgiven these next three months. Let us make a real go at this? At fixing us?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled in agreement. 

Mingyu grinned, pulling you into the softest kiss ever. 

“I know we are meant to separate rooms and all that, but can I just have you in my arms tonight?” Mingyu asked, kissing your forehead, and you nodded at him. 

You agreed because you didn’t know what the next three months would bring about, so for tonight, you just wanted to lay in his arms and forget the hurt and the reality because you’d never admit it like Mingyu would. Still, the thought of living in a world where he was no longer yours was enough to make you break your heart into a million pieces. 

“We’ll be okay,” you mumbled into Mingyu’s chest as he held you, and he responded with a kiss on your forehead. 

You frowned into the embrace. You just hoped it would come true if you said something repeatedly. 

If you kept saying that you and Mingyu would be okay, you would be.  ~~ Balancing on Breaking Branches ~~

“Moving day, huh?” Mingyu joked, making you grin slightly at him. 

“Barely, we’re just diving up rooms and our stuff. It’s just three months,” you answered as you walked over to your closet and mentally sorted out what articles you wanted to take.

“Actually, you can just stay in this room. Besides, I don’t have much stuff anyway, just some clothes and my computer has always been in a separate room,” Mingyu offered, and you smiled at him. 

“Thanks, it’d be a nightmare if you made me move all my things out,” you laughed, making Mingyu smile. 

“Besides, it’s all temporary, three months, and I’m back to cuddling you every night and sleeping,” Mingyu smiled. 

“What are you smiling about?” You asked Mingyu as he grinned to himself, looking around the room. 

“Just kind of thinking how we broke into this room and every other room and surface in this apartment,” Mingyu said casually, a blush creeping onto his face as he recalled the memories, making you smile shyly. 

“Sex in every corner of the house. I still can’t believe we did it in a storage closet, of all things,” you recalled, smiling but shaking your head at how you and Mingyu had really come through on the idea of breaking into every part of the house. 

“But the sex was pretty good, wasn’t it? A tighter space meant that I had to hold you closer to me and fuck you harder,” Mingyu teased, his voice low, dangerous and teasing. 

“Mingyu,” you warned, unable to keep the smile off your face, as you moved away from the closet and sat on the bed. 

“Besides, I’m just recalling fond memories, especially when we have a sex ban placed on us for three months,” Mingyu explained with a pout, making you smile. 

“Anyways, do you know where I keep my phone charger? I usually use yours, so,” Mingyu trailed off, and you nodded at him, knowing that he never bothered because you were always there, and it just wouldn’t be the same for the next three months. 

“Yeah, this drawer,” you gestured to the bedside table beside you. Mingyu nodded, rummaging through the drawer, and you noticed he kept searching for a while. 

“Did you not find your charger?” You asked, turning to face him, your eyes widening when you saw what he held in his hand. 

“Mingyu,” you started to say, making him smirk at you.

“Is that what I think it is?” Mingyu asked, and you groaned, cursing yourself. Mingyu walked over and grabbed the device. 

“A vibrator in plain sight?” Mingyu teased.

 “Can you give it back?” You groaned, and Mingyu grinned at you.

“Is this the one we bought and took with us on our trip to Bali? Where you couldn’t get enough of me?” You gulped, and you felt your mouth water.

“Not my fault you were shirtless for the entire trip. It’s hard to behave when you look like that,” you huffed out as Mingyu walked back to the bed with the vibrator in his hand. 

“So I’m hot?” Mingyu asked with a smirk. 

“You know you are,” you mumbled, and you knew you were about to undo all the therapist’s work with your one movement, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

Not when Mingyu was looking at you like that, wetting his lips as he caressed the vibrator in his hand. 

“Oh, do I?” Mingyu asked, making you glare. 

Instead of answering, you grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him into you. Mingyu pulled you into a kiss and pushed you down, one hand moving to your jeans and undoing them. 

You kicked off your jeans and panties, and Mingyu’s knuckles met with your wet folds.

“You’re soaking wet,” Mingyu muttered against your lips, and you nodded.

“Wait,” Mingyu instructed as he pulled your shirt off, 

“Beautiful,” he praised as he took in your nude state. 

“Pretty,” Mingyu muttered, moving his mouth along your body as he ran the vibrator along your folds. 

“Fuck,” you hissed as the cold metal touched your swollen cunt. Mingyu pushed two fingers into you and switched on the vibrator. You felt your eyes roll back as he started thrusting his fingers in and out of you. While the vibrator constantly pulsated against your clit.

 “Fucking hell,” you groaned, grabbing his muscular forearm. 

“Good girl, you take my fingers so well,” Mingyu moaned, praising you as you fell apart under his touch. You let out whimpers, biting your lips to stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” you groaned, and Mingyu smirked at you, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. 

“Can’t we just, I guess, call that goodbye sex? Or something,” Mingyu asked as he stared at your fucked out expression.

“We could, but I think we need to tell our therapist,” you breathed, making him pout, “as good as that felt, we just took a few steps back,” you added, making Mingyu sigh as he leaned over to kiss you. 

“Three months, and we’ll be okay,” Mingyu claimed before placing another kiss on your lips. 

“This is just a little mistake. You wanted to honour his wish, but you also knew that lying would do you two no good. No need to tell the therapist,” Mingyu repeated, making you nod slowly at him. 

So, you did what was right. 

“Okay, Y/N, what you did wasn’t odd or unusual. Maybe couples slip up, especially when it comes to sex and trying not to have it, and I get it. You two have been together for ages. Giving up sex isn’t easy, nor exactly is it meant to be,” Dr Kwan clarified, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were undoing everything. 

“You’re human. It’s normal to slip up, but being honest and working from that is important,” Dr Kwan added. You nodded. 

“Well, still, I’m sorry,” you apologised, making Mingyu scoff. 

“You kissed me; may I remind you that? So, stop acting like you’re wronged or something. You make me sound like a dick,” Mingyu spat out, and you were about to respond when Dr. Kwan cleared his throat, stopping you. 

“Well, Mingyu, you might have just given us the material for our first session. When do you two think it all went wrong? Between you both? Mingyu, I’d like to hear from you, and then you, Y/N,” Dr. Kwan suggested.

“Y/N’s been gifted, so good at everything she does, and I guess I’ve gone with the flow, but being an adult in this unforgiving world, that’s not enough. Not even, and it seemed like every time she was successful or achieved something, it made me feel smaller and like I wasn’t enough,” Mingyu rambled, making you look at him. 

“I know she never did it on purpose, but that’s how I felt, and I guess I stopped trying to be better for her because it always seemed like she was too far away for me to catch up to, and so I was just happy being in her life, as a spectator,” Mingyu finished letting out a deep exhale. 

“I don’t begrudge her for succeeding. I wished that sometimes she could look away from the blinding lights of success to notice me, just for a second at least,” Mingyu added, shrugging. 

“Did you ever wish for her success to go away?” Dr. Kwan asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 

“Never, I only wished that maybe I could do half of what she did, maybe then I’d be enough for her, but I know that’s not what she ever thought, but I internalised her success as a sign of my failures,” Mingyu answered.

“Y/N, is there anything you’d like to add?” Dr. Kwan asked. 

“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realise he felt like that,” you answered lamely. 

You didn’t realise that Mingyu felt the way he did. He was always so guarded with his response and just quiet and silently supported you no matter what you did.

“I never told her to be fair,” Mingyu interjected, and you sighed at him. 

“I can’t read your mind. How do you expect me to understand if you don’t tell me something?” You asked, and Mingyu stared at you in disbelief. 

“The way I read your mind about a proposal?” Mingyu asked, and you groaned. 

“Okay, you two, we need to hit pause. There’s too much here to not cause a massive fight,” Dr. Kwan said, interrupting you two. 

“She didn’t even tell me that she got an opportunity for a promotion or anything. She keeps so much to herself and then gets mad when I can’t read her mind,” Mingyu added, and you sat in annoyance, but you stayed quiet, knowing that he wasn’t wrong with his judgements. 

“I lost my job five months ago, and since then, she’s never really told me about her success and in her defence, I did tell her not to talk about it, but I know that after a week or so, I told her that it was okay, but she just kept everything to herself,” Mingyu added. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you started to say, turning to face Mingyu.

“I know you said it was okay, but you always put others before you, and I didn’t want to be another reason for you to suppress how you felt,” you explained, placing your hand on his, and he responded in kind, moving his hand to lace them with yours. 

“I see that love is not lost between you two. You need to figure out how to communicate. In a relationship as long as yours, it’s easy to assume that the other party knows or should know. Still, the truth is, all the familiarity and knowledge in the world is never enough to predict how humans will behave,” Dr. Kwan said wisely. 

“I went to visit my mum; the night before, we had a huge fight which led us here; she kept pushing and asking if something was wrong with us because it had been ten years, and there was no proposal. So, I kept trying to diffuse the situation, but unfortunately, her words sowed a seed of insecurity in me. I lost it and snapped at Mingyu, which caused him to reveal the fact that he was going to, in fact, propose to me that night,” you rambled, explaining what you thought was the final breaking point. 

“I see, Y/N. Mingyu, is being married something you two have always wanted to be? Or is that something that you two have never discussed?” Dr. Kwan asked. 

“We discussed it, I think, after our first year together. Mingyu brought it up,” you recalled, smiling at you fondly and starting to explain the memory.  ~~

Nine years ago

“In my defence, their vows were touching, and that’s why I ended up crying like a baby,” Mingyu defended, making you laugh as you wiped his teary eyes and kissed his red nose. 

You both were in the powder room, helping Mingyu look more presentable after he cried his eyes out at your cousin and her husband exchanging their vows. 

“But I also started to imagine, what if it was us up there? One day? Look, I always found weddings boring in the past because I was like fuck this. I’m always watching other people find their ‘happily ever after,’ but I have wanted that for us since you came into my life. Our happily ever after,” Mingyu declared, making you smile at him, your eyes holding but love and fondness for your boyfriend.

“Okay, I know we’re only 19 and legit, maybe way too young to decide the future now, but I know this for sure, regardless of when that moment happens. I just know that there is no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with; only you complete me, and a life without you, well shit, that’s just miserable, isn’t it?” Mingyu spoke, making you swoon at him. 

“How’d I get so lucky?” You asked as you pulled him into a soft kiss, making him smile into the kiss. 

“I think it’s me. I’m the lucky one,” Mingyu mused. 

“How about we’re both lucky?” You added, and Mingyu smiled. 

“Lucky to have found a love like this; yeah, we’re pretty fucking lucky,” Mingyu agreed as he pulled you into another kiss. 

~~

“Huh?” You asked as you felt Mingyu’s fingers on your face and realised he was wiping away your tears. 

“It was so much easier, and I just want that back,” you cried, and Mingyu, out of instinct, moved closer, pulling you in closer to him. 

“Y/N, you two were younger, and the world is kinder to two kids in love than adults in love. Nothing like taxes, societal expectations, or work threatens the tenderness and beauty of love. Still, with patience and dedication to fix the relationship, you can get through it, and it doesn’t seem like Mingyu wants anything else but the same thing as you,” Dr Kwan explained, making you smile through the tears and placing a kiss to Mingyu’s cheek, making him blush. 

“I’ll schedule you two for a week later, but let’s keep up the same routine. No sex and kisses are fine, but keep it to that. When you two filled out the form, I think you mentioned that your first date was at a dive bar? Why don’t you two, over the weekend, go to one, not as a date, but go and maybe rekindle the memories, remind yourselves that the pain of therapy is worth it,” Dr. Kwan suggested, and you both nodded. 

“We can do that,” Mingyu answered, and you smiled at him. 

Maybe this is why you two needed someone to guide you both through all the pain, and today felt like a breakthrough, and perhaps that’s what you both just needed, someone to help you get through the shitty parts to get to the good part. 

You two weren’t broken but bent, and someone needed to straighten you out. 

“We can. We can be okay again,” you mumbled, but you knew Mingyu heard it with the way he squeezed your hand softly. 

“We will,” he whispered in your ear. 

~~ Never Learned to Read My Mind ~~

You and Mingyu really did try hard. The kisses were kept to a minimum, almost so much that Mingyu got frustrated with you. He eventually pouted enough one evening. It ended up in you two having a thirty-minute make-out session. 

“We shouldn’t,” you mumbled as you continued to kiss him. 

“See, you say that, but you’re kissing me,” Mingyu replied, moving his lips away to speak, only to place them back on yours within a second.

“Mingyu,” you warned, pulling away and making him sigh at you. 

“Fine, but can you blame me? This is the first time you and I have spoken and kissed in two weeks, and no, that goodnight kiss three nights ago doesn’t count. I just get that Dr. Kwan said we should try to find ourselves and all that, but it feels like you’re acting like we’ve already broken up or something,” Mingyu admitted, frowning. 

“I’m giving us space to grow,” you defended, and Mingyu nodded. 

“I get that, but shouldn’t it foster an environment of encouragement? The space you’ve created is cold and uninviting, like hell. Your room door is always closed,” Mingyu added, making you pull away from his touch and sit next to him instead of on him. 

“I’m working, Mingyu. I don’t have as much free time as you, so forgive me if I want some peace and quiet while I work,” you sassed, and Mingyu pouted. 

“Free time? You mean unemployed?” Mingyu joked, but you glared at him. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth. You know that’s not what I meant to say,” you huffed, and Mingyu nodded. 

“Okay, forget it. I only say that because I wanted to show you something the other day, and your door was closed,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded at him. 

“So, show me now?” You suggested, and Mingyu nodded, pulling up yet another photo he took of a cake that served as inspiration–he’d been taking pictures of cakes, cookies and many other baked goods for the last few months, telling you it was for something unique. Still, to you, it just seemed like he was building up his ‘cakes I like’ Pinterest board.

“See?” Mingyu asked excitedly.

“What am I meant to be seeing? Another cake? All you do is take pictures of the cake. Where is this going?”

“You could have bothered to ask more about it instead of dismissing it entirely. I don’t dismiss things that excite you,” Mingyu mumbled. 

“Fine, show me,” you asked, and Mingyu shook his head at you. 

“No, because you’re asking because you feel bad, not because you care, forget it. You’re right it’s just cake. How would you notice? How would you notice when you haven’t noticed anything about me in the last few months?” Mingyu spoke, making you groan in frustration. 

“Sorry, that was unnecessary. Look after work tomorrow. I made reservations at a dive bar for us, I’ll send you a location, and you can head over after work?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him. 

“Night,” Mingyu mumbled, kissing your cheek as he got up and sulked as he walked to his room. 

You felt terrible. Since when did you stop caring about the little things, especially him? He was always doing much more, but you didn’t know why. It never felt like it was enough for you. 

“Hey!” Mingyu greeted you the following evening as you approached him at the dive bar. 

“This place is quite nice,” you commented, and Mingyu nodded. 

“Are you drinking?” Mingyu asked, and you shook your head. 

“I drove here,” you replied, and Mingyu pouted. 

“Let me drive and have a drink. I have a scratchy throat, so I can’t really drink,” Mingyu offered, and you looked at him in shock. 

“When did you get a cold?” You asked, had you really been so unkind and caring to not even ask your boyfriend if he was unwell. 

“Nah, just a tickle, don’t worry, I got meds, and I’m on the mend,” Mingyu added, ushering you away, and you frowned at him but decided against pushing further. 

You were glad you were tipsy, but you weren’t exactly happy at the scene unfolding in front of you an hour later. 

A random girl decided to approach Mingyu to gush about how handsome he was and how incredible his biceps were and even went so far as to trace his arms, and that was it: you saw red. 

You hated how he didn’t stop her, either. Instead, he giggled and flexed a bit more.

“Miss, do you always with other people’s boyfriends?” You spat out, and the girl stepped back in fear upon hearing the venom in your voice. 

“No, oh my god, I’m so sorry. You just didn’t look like you were his girlfriend. You just sat there, far away from him, and you two barely spoke, so I thought it was okay to appreciate it, but I’m so sorry,” the girl apologised, but you couldn’t help your anger. 

“So even then, you just flirt with anyone you see?” You asked, embarrassing the girl, and Mingyu turned to face you with a hardened expression, apologising to the girl first. 

“What the hell was that?” Mingyu 

“Home, now,” you answered, and Mingyu sighed as he paid for the bill while you stormed out of the bar. 

You stormed into the house, and Mingyu followed you into your room. You saw red. There was no other colour in the world, only red. You couldn’t believe Mingyu giggled and smiled at the girl like he did. 

The way he would with you.

“That was so uncalled for,” Mingyu started to say, making you whip your head to look at him. Your eyes were red and watery, and Mingyu immediately wanted to put the fight to bed and hold you in his arms. 

Mingyu mentally slapped himself, but all he did was laugh and smile at the girl. She complimented him, and for a second, he lost his mind and indulged because it had been so long since he felt good about himself. So long since someone called him handsome, and hell, you stopped acting like you were interested in him, but it was wrong and stupid, and he caused you to cry. 

“Right, me telling a girl to back off my man is wrong and pushing her away was uncalled for? Did you like it then? The way her tits pressed up against your chest. Is that why you didn’t pull away when she wrapped her arm around yours? Would you have backed away if I didn’t push her away, or would you have gone home with her?” You accused, ranting and firing away accusations at Mingyu, who paused to frown at you, but he knew he didn’t have a reason to defend himself. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop her, but I would have never cheated. I just got caught up in the attention, it has been so long since you ever showed me any affection, and I liked it, thinking that, oh, I don’t know, at least I’m not chopped fucking liver,” Mingyu fired back, making you shrink. 

“You couldn’t tell me that? You had to get some leggy chick to get your validation?” You asked, your voice trembling. 

“You don’t make it easy to speak to you. You’ve taken this ‘break’ so seriously that I feel like you’re just practising for the real thing. Last week, I got a new cookbook, and. In the past, you’d always be excited to see if I could replicate any recipes, but now? You didn’t even care to see it. I got a new shirt for our date night, and you didn’t compliment me. I’m not saying I need to be coddled, but you act like my presence is a bother, so forgive me if I wanted to seek out someone’s compliments because you know what? I can’t recall the last time you ever said I was good at anything,” Mingyu scoffed, making you standstill. 

“You have so many cookbooks; how is it different from the dozens you have? How was I meant to notice just one?” You asked, and Mingyu stared at you. 

“That’s not the point. Whenever I want to share anything with you, you act like it’s the biggest inconvenience or you don’t care. Either way, it doesn’t make me feel good about myself,” Mingyu sputtered out, his anger bubbling, and he knew he had to stop this fight before he said something he regretted. 

“Look, we’ve both had a lot to drink. Maybe we should talk about this later?” Mingyu offered, as he tried to guide you to the bed, to help you sleep so you wouldn’t continue this drunken rant. 

“So, you entertained her because she gave you attention, or was she prettier?” You asked, immediately feeling your eyes well up. You tried not to break in front of him. He was the one flirting with another woman, not you, but you couldn’t help how insecure it all made you. 

Was he done with you? Was this his subtle way of telling you he wouldn’t care?

“Hey, no, don’t you dare,” Mingyu interrupted your thoughts as he cradled your face. 

“No one is more perfect than you. I’m sorry for giving in to the attention. No matter how bad we are, it’s not an excuse,” Mingyu explained as he wiped away the tears that fell down his face. 

“But she noticed what I didn’t. Maybe deep down, that’s all you want, and I wish I were better for you,” you replied tearfully, making Mingyu’s heart ache with how you tore yourself apart. 

“Mingyu!” You squeaked when you felt him carry you and sit on the bed. 

“Take this off,” you mumbled, pointing to his shirt, and you stared at him for a second as he peeled his shirt off. 

You leaned down to kiss his shoulder, then another, until you reached his neck. 

“Y/N, baby, you’re drunk,” Mingyu groaned, trying to suppress a moan, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him as he melted under your touch. 

“We’ve had sex drunk before. I’m pretty sure our first time was when we were both drunk,” you spoke as you moved to kiss his jaw, making him wrap his arms around your waist. 

“Baby,” Mingyu groaned as his hands moved to rest above your ass. 

“Hm?” You asked, looking at him, pausing before your lips connected with his. 

“Let me show you just how much I love you,” Mingyu said, giving in to your touch as he stood up and swiftly placed you on the bed. Mingyu usually would at least take some time peeling your clothes off, unravelling each bit of your body to him, but he couldn’t wait tonight.

“So fucking pretty,” Mingyu praised as he laid between your thighs, your dripping cunt at his face. 

Mingyu slowly moved his finger inside you, “do you want to cum? You’re already clenching my finger so nicely, baby,” Mingyu praised as he rolled his thumb over your clit. You nodded. Mingyu pulled his finger out of you, making you whine. 

Mingyu smirked at you before latching his lips onto your clit. 

“Fuck,” you moaned at the contact.

“Mingyu, wait, stop,” you said, making him sit up immediately. 

“Did I go too far?” Mingyu asked, worrying, lacing his handsome features. You shook your head and moved your foot to his growing bulge. 

“Please fuck me, just I need you,” you begged, and Mingyu wasted no time in peeling off his clothes and positioning himself between your legs and pushing into you, making you moan and hiss at the stretch.

Mingyu placed your legs on either side of his shoulder. He pushed in and fucked you hard and deep. His pace was relentless, and you whimpered at his pace.

“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m so sorry, but I need to cum,” Mingyu moaned as he pounded into you.

 “It’s okay, fuck me, Mingyu.”

Mingyu removed your legs from your shoulder and flipped you onto your hands and knees. He pushed into you, his hands gripping your hips. You nearly collapsed at how deep he was hitting inside you.

“Fuck, more, please. Mingyu.” He bit down on your shoulder then kissed and ran his tongue over the area.

 “Fuck, fuck,” Mingyu cursed as he came inside you, moaning as his cum filled you. You felt him flip you over again, his mouth latching onto your cunt again, licking and cleaning you, making you cum again in the process, and you pushed his head away gently as you came again. 

“No more baby, too sensitive,” you moaned, making Mingyu smile sweetly as he placed a soft kiss on your trembling pussy. 

“Wait, stay, please,” you asked, pouting at him, making him smile. 

“I will. I was just going to clean you up properly and give you a shirt. You always get cold after sex,” Mingyu said, making you smile. 

“Stay here,” Mingyu said, kissing your forehead as he headed out to grab you a shirt. He returned with a wet towel and gently pressed it against your throbbing pussy, smirking at your reaction. 

A few minutes later, you were clean and dressed in one of his shirts. 

You were already nodding when Mingyu’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Mingyu moved his hand under your shirt and placed his arm around your waist. 

You moaned softly as he drew small circles into your skin. You gently pushed his arm away and turned to bury your face in his chest, making him smile.

“I love you,” Mingyu mumbled, and you weren’t entirely sure if you heard it, but for a while, you didn’t mind falling asleep in his arms, pretending that you two were alright.

~~ I Think I’ve Seen This Film Before ~~ 

“So, you two had a fight and fixed it with sex,” Dr Kwan summarised, and you and Mingyu looked to the ground. 

“Look, we’re barely three months into this, and while I like that you both love each other enough to be intimate, it seems like you use sex as a coping mechanism to put actual issues on the back burner until they inevitably blow up in your face,” Dr Kwan added. 

“It was a misunderstanding,” Mingyu defended. 

“A series of misunderstandings has brought you two here, and right now, you two are giving in too quickly,” Dr Kwan added. 

“Maybe three months is too long. Can we try a month, no intimacy, nothing, please? Then we can revisit this issue?” Dr Kwan suggested, and you both nodded. 

“Dr Kwan, can I request one thing, though? Can I ask that my lovely girlfriend and I go for one more date, like a proper one, the way we used to be before we tried the full-on ‘break’ thing?” Mingyu asked, and Dr. Kwan nodded. 

“Y/N?” Dr Kwan asked, and you shrugged. 

“I don’t see why not,” you answered, making Mingyu smile, and you noticed how his smile reached his eyes for the first time in so long. 

“We’re here!” Mingyu announced as he parked the car outside a carnival, helped you out of the car, and held your hand like he always did, complimenting you from home to the carnival gates. 

“It’s crazy empty?” You asked him, and he smiled.

“It opens next week, but I pulled a few strings; I wanted to enjoy this with you and only you,” Mingyu admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, making you smile at him. 

“Shall we?” He asked you nodded. 

He took you to nearly every booth, and with each new game, your smile grew, as did his. You didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with him all over again, but here was proving you wrong. 

“Hey, you okay?” Mingyu waved his hand in front of your face. You were both finally back in the car after a night of kisses, jokes and games, and you smiled at him. 

“Yeah, just thinking,” you answered. 

“About?” Mingyu asked, and you turned to face him, 

“I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone again, but tonight, with you. I think I may have just fallen in love with you all over again,” you admitted, making Mingyu smile as he leaned over to pull you into a kiss. 

“I love you,” Mingyu said as he pulled away from your lips. 

“I love you too,” you answered, making him grin. 

“We’re okay, we’ll be okay,” Mingyu assured as he took your hand and drove home. 

However, when he said it, you didn’t find any comfort in his words because you knew that you were about to hurt him, not because you wanted to but because you had been reflecting and noticed that all this time. 

Mingyu had been bending backwards to become the version of a man you supposedly wanted. Still, all this time, you only complained and poked holes and found flaws; he loved you despite all this. His love for you was too forgiving, too great, and one you didn’t think you deserved any longer. 

So you could only do what you did best, and that was to hurt him before he broke himself trying to fix the both of you.

~~ You Were My Crown  ~~

Mingyu was fuming. Well, not even raging would do justice to how angry he was. It was almost comical. He thought smoke would come out of his ears like a cartoon character. It would have almost been funny. 

Almost. 

However, nothing about this moment or the letter in Mingyu’s hand was funny; none of this was funny. 

“Hey,” you chirped as you walked into Mingyu’s bedroom. He was late for dinner, and your smile dropped when you saw his face and then recognised the paper in his hand. 

“Mingyu,” you started to say and stopped as he held a hand up to stop you. 

“Dear Y/N, you’re incredible, and I want you to consider this position again. You have insights that set you apart from everyone else. I think you could do an amazing job helping us set up our offices in Japan,” Mingyu read out the letter, his voice fading into a whisper at the mention of Japan. 

“I thought we were past this?” Mingyu asked, and you immediately felt yourself become defensive.

“No, I only said that to calm you down, but Mingyu, this is my career,” you protested, making Mingyu scoff. 

“I’d never stop you from pursuing your dreams. I know you’re good at your job. I’d encourage you to take this position, but you lied, and you got this three days before the date night and didn’t bring it up? It fucking hurts, and when I asked you if you were happy, you said yes? But kept this from me? What were you going to do, just fucking pack up and leave me?” Mingyu asked, raising his voice, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Don’t you dare give me an attitude! You hid this from me. Why?” Mingyu asked, tossing the letter onto the floor. 

“We can still talk about it, and then we can figure out a way with schedules, and maybe I can save and fly out and visit you,” Mingyu rambled, making you bite your lip as you knew what you were about to say next would break him. 

“I accepted the job,” you whispered, but Mingyu heard you clearly. Your voice rang in his ears, four words taunting him, haunting him. 

“Mingyu,” you said, trying to approach him, and he moved away from you. 

“You did what?” Mingyu asked, not wanting an answer. 

“I just didn’t think us doing these three months did us any good, yes we got to get our issues out in the open, but Mingyu, we still broke the main rule, we had sex, we couldn’t be bothered to make it work without fucking,” you defended, each word piercing Mingyu’s heart deeper and deeper. 

“Doesn’t the fact we couldn’t stop loving each other show you how tethered we are to one another? How much we need each other?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 

“Yes, a crippling need,” you answered, making him breathe deeply, trying to hold back a sob. 

“So, you just decided to do what you do best? Hurtle into the future without a fucking care for me? I gave up everything for you to make you happy, and you’re fucking running?” Mingyu taunted, making you snap.

“I never asked you, but you were so fucking stupid to have walked away from friends. Friends who could give you a job or something, and now, you’re here begging me to stay because you didn’t get your shit together,” you spat out, knowing that none of your words held any truth. 

Still, you needed him to stop fighting because you weren’t sure if you could anymore. 

“You didn’t ask me because I thought it was you and me against the world,” Mingyu yelled. 

“Well, it’s not! Grow up! Get a job, plan your future instead of ruining mine just because you don’t have a planned future,” you fumed, stopping yourself, but you knew it was too late. 

“No, you’re right. I don’t because I thought you were my future, but now, you’re gone, so I guess you’re right. I don’t have a future, so please leave,” Mingyu asked. You couldn’t help yourself, but you knew if you comforted him now, you’d give in, and you couldn’t. 

“Mingyu, this is my apartment, so why don’t you step right out?” You mocked, making Mingyu let out a broken sob. 

“I can’t waste my time and cry for you any longer. There’s no more crying that I can do for you,” you added as Mingyu pulled out a suitcase and started to throw his things in. 

“You can leave in a week or something. There’s no rush,” you mumbled, feeling nothing but shame and guilt. 

“You were my homeland. You were my safe space, and now that you’ve gone and thrown me out, put me in exile, what’s the point? This isn’t my house anyway, and clearly, I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Mingyu answered tearfully as you watched him pack. 

You stood and watched him pack and remove the necklace you once gave him and place it on the bedside table. 

Mingyu took another look around the room and then wiped his face before grabbing his passport and documents out of a drawer and stuffing them into the suitcase. 

“Where will you go?” You asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 

“That’s none of your concern, I’ll be fine, but you,” Mingyu paused to steady his voice. 

“You’ll be fine, excel at everything, and do so well, my love, shit sorry, Y/N. You’ve always been amazing, so thank you for the last ten years of my life, and oh, when you fall in love again, tell him to be good to you,” Mingyu rambled, pausing to smile at you through his tears. 

“But please apologise to that guy because if there’s a weepy guy at your wedding, oh fuck, never mind, why would you invite me. Fuck I’m babbling. You don’t want this. I’ll be on my way,” Mingyu paused his ramble to kiss your forehead. 

“Please stay safe,” Mingyu said before practically running out the door. You waited for him to leave until you couldn’t hear his footsteps in the hallway break down. 

“Fuck!” You cried out, you felt so much pain engulf you, you felt as if someone had snatched your heart out of your chest, you felt as if you had a thousand cuts all over your body and that each second, someone was pouring salt into every wound. 

You didn’t know pain like this. You fell to the floor sobbing, unable to withstand the pain, letting it engulf you. So, you let it. You did this, and you deserved to be hurt. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologised to the empty room. You broke him and yourself, but you weren’t his problem. You lost the right to care when you threw him out. 

So, you’d do what you do best, push through, ignore the pain and push into the future because if you ran fast enough, you might forget the present and perhaps the pain wouldn’t catch up to you any longer.  6 Months Later

Your method wasn’t foolproof. 

Simply running away from your problems only brought you temporary comfort. 

It allowed you to plaster a fake smile and get things done. It brought you false hope when you told your mother that you had let him go. 

Your method was like a ticking time bomb. You’d hold off only for so long. You knew your pain and your actions would catch up to you. 

Eventually, you took steps to prolong it. You had blocked Mingyu on every possible social media site. You even put all his things in storage and scrubbed the apartment clean, and when you were done, there was no proof that he ever existed in your life. 

You acted like he was a ghost because, somehow, it was easier believing that in some twisted way than picking up the phone and apologising or checking in. 

It was easier this way. You put a bandaid on a wound that had cut through every part of you, foolishly hoping it’d be enough. 

That stupid bandaid got you through your life in Japan. You’d find moments where you’d think of Mingyu, wondering how he’d love certain foods and sights, but you would push any thought of him away, and you were doing a good job. 

Until you were going through your things and found a black journal. You were familiar with it the moment you opened the journal. You wished you could have gone back in time and undid everything because opening up the journal made you feel like you just ripped open the bandaid. 

It was Mingyu’s journal. 

A journal dated the day you two started therapy. You knew it was wrong to read his innermost thoughts, but maybe you’d get closure. So, you got a bottle of wine and began to read.

Most of the entries did nothing but break your heart repeatedly until you came across the last one. 

It was dated the night of the date, your last date with him. 

“I can’t wait to surprise her tonight. I think we’re going to be okay,” Mingyu wrote. 

Your heart stopped. 

A surprise, he was planning something that night. 

What was it? 

You had to find out. 

You had planned most of your life down to the last detail, so randomly catching a plane, after calling your boss and randomly quitting, and landing back home after six months felt odd. 

This was home, so why did it no longer feel like it? The way you had shut your heart to Mingyu, had this town also shut you out, decided that someone as heartless as you didn’t deserve another chance?

You had unblocked Mingyu on socials in a feeble attempt to try and find him, and you saw that he frequented a bakery often. It was a shot in the dark but your only shot. You hailed a taxi from the airport and gave him the address to the bakery. 

You ran into the bakery, huffing as you lugged two suitcases. 

“Can I help you, miss?” A beautiful girl asked you, and you stared at her. 

“No, but you have a frequent customer, Mingyu?” You asked, causing the lady to laugh. 

“Customer, honey, he’s the owner? Do you have an appointment with him, or would you like a consult? He’s got a free evening, so I can pencil you in. Just walk all the way, and when you see a white door with golden roses on it, you’ve found it,” the lady instructed, and you just moved on autopilot as you reached his door. 

Your knuckles trembled as they knocked against the door, his door. 

“Come in!” A cheery voice you yearned to hear for so long, a voice you missed every day and every night replied. 

You pushed the door open and noticed that Mingyu was too busy sketching to look up, and he continued drawing. 

“Just take a seat, make yourself comfy. Sorry, just finishing up a sketch,” Mingyu said mindlessly, and you stood still. 

Taking him in, his hair was longer, he’d coloured it too, a light brown, and he looked handsome, but also he looked healthy like he was sleeping and resting and happy. 

You noted how focused he was on his work. Mingyu was always handsome to you, but even more so when he was doing something he loved. 

“Seriously, it’s okay. Make yourself up at home,” Mingyu started to say as he got up from his chair. 

“Y/N?” Mingyu asked as he finally noticed you. 

“Oh my goodness,” Mingyu broke into a broad smile as he rushed to hug you, and you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. How could he? 

How could he look at you with so much kindness after what you did to him?

“Oh my gosh, how are you? You look well. How’s Japan, and how’s the job?” Mingyu asked a question after making you stare at him. 

“I found this,” as you moved away from his embrace, practically slapping the journal against the chest. 

“Oh, I’m guessing you read it?” Mingyu asked with a smile. 

“What did it mean, the surprise?” You asked, and Mingyu smiled at you. 

“Can you spare me some time? I don’t want to have that conversation here, but if you can wait a few minutes, we can return to mine, and I’ll explain every word you read?” Mingyu offered, and you nodded at him. 

“Babe!” The same girl from the front desk walked into Mingyu’s office. 

Babe? 

You felt your blood run cold. It made sense for him if he moved on, but her? The woman who looked like she was everything you weren’t, maybe that’s why he wanted her. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to check what you wanted to do for dinner tonight. If you want, I can make pasta?” She kept speaking, each word twisting the knife in your chest deeper. 

“Yuna, this is Y/N, a good friend,” Mingyu introduced, and you forced a smile for her. 

That’s all, but what would he introduce you to her? A friend? His ex, the one who broke his heart? 

“Oh, you guys were friends in school, right? Nice of you to visit, so I guess raincheck on dinner? Oh, babe, please don’t forget we must go to the dress store. I need you to pick out the suit for the wedding,” Yuna said as she gave him a peck on the cheek, shot you a smile and left the room. 

Mingyu had moved on so quickly? A wedding? He waited ten years to propose to you—sort of—but with Yuna, only six months, maybe he wasn’t the problem. You were, you saw her, pretty, friendly, and she seemed to make him smile. Something you failed to do for so long. 

So, it made sense that he’d see a future with her and not you. 

Mingyu could hear your overthinking, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort you right now, but he’d do it the minute you two were in his house. Alone and in a safe space. 

“Shall we?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, following him, not saying a word during the entire car ride back to his apartment and the walk to his apartment. 

“I’m going to take a shower and freshen up. If you want, you can use the guest room. I can grab you some clothes,” Mingyu offered, and you followed him into the guest room, not saying a word. 

 Mingyu poked his head into the bathroom when he noticed you hadn’t emerged in a half-hour. Worried, he entered, and his heart broke when he understood what you were doing. 

“Hey, no, stop that,” Mingyu said, poking his head in at first and then entering the bathroom when he understood what was happening. 

“Just wanted to see what I was missing,” you admitted, making Mingyu frown as he helped you sit on the countertop. Mingyu grabbed a towel, wet it, and gently wiped your face with it. 

“She’s pretty.” You muttered, and Mingyu sighed, placing the towel on the counter.

“She’s got a nice body,” you continued to speak as you were apart. Mingyu stared at you in disbelief, and he hated how you were tearing yourself apart. 

“Can you shower? Or manage on your own?” Mingyu asked; he didn’t want to leave you, but he was very aware that you were naked and crying, and he didn’t want to upset you any further. 

“I guess you found the one you love, and I’m here like a moron because I thought you still loved me. I selfishly thought you still loved me,” Mingyu shook his head and snapped, and his hands found your face and pulled you in for a kiss. You gently pushed him away. 

“Don’t pity me,” you muttered Mingyu glared at you. 

“None of this is out of pity.” Mingyu moved his hands to your neck, gently tracing your skin until he reached your lower back and pulled you closer to him. 

“I’m going to ask you again; can you manage to shower alone. Or do you need me to help you?” You sighed and pushed your body against him.

“I need you,” you answered. Mingyu nodded before moving away and stripping. 

“Fuck, see, you have a nice body,” you said to Mingyu, making him glare at you as he helped you into the shower. 

“So do you, and fuck, I’ll be damned if you don’t feel the same by the time I’m done with you,” Mingyu said as he turned on the shower, and you sighed in relief as the warm water poured over you.  

Mingyu reached over for the shampoo and moved his hands into your hair. You moaned as he massaged your scalp, and for a second, you stopped thinking about how crap you felt. You allowed Mingyu to wash you, and you were ready to leave the shower when Mingyu gently pushed you against the wall. 

Mingyu moved his lips from your forehead until he reached your lips and captured them in a sweet kiss. 

One which had you swooning. 

It was so soft and yet deliberate. You moaned as you felt him deepen the kiss with his tongue. Mingyu kept kissing you until the need for air became too urgent, and he gently pulled away. 

Mingyu moved his lips to your neck, slowly sucking and gently nibbling the skin there. He left a trail of marks on your neck, all shades of purple and pink. Mingyu moved his hands to your breasts, massaging the soft skin, tugging and pinching your nipples, making you moan. 

Mingyu pulled away from your body and got down on his knees in front of you. He dove into your cunt, licking your folds, and your hands moved their way into his wet hair. 

Mingyu didn’t move a muscle, only his tongue as he glided it up and down your cunt. He moved slightly and pushed his tongue into you, making you gasp in pleasure. Mingyu groaned as he tasted your arousal, pushing his tongue in further. Mingyu moved his tongue back to your clit and flicked the now-engorged nub while pushing two fingers inside you. 

You were whimpering and gasping in pleasure as Mingyu fingered you until you came. Mingyu held your thighs in place as he continued to lick you through your orgasm. He was focused on making you cum as many times are he could with his tongue. You shuddered when Mingyu continued, never stopping. 

Mingyu moved his hands to grab your ass and pulled your ass cheeks apart, making you groan. 

Mingyu’s lips never left your clit. You could only mewl and let out sobs of pleasure as he licked you. You were gasping for air as you reached your second orgasm. Mingyu’s mouth never moved from your clit as he licked you through your orgasm. 

Mingyu moved his lips away from your cunt, and moaned when he saw your state. 

“You look so fucking good like this, swollen pussy, mouth open. You look gorgeous when you cum,” Mingyu praised, and you clenched your thighs together at his words. 

“Turn around, face the wall,” Mingyu instructed, and you weakly turned around as you trembled. 

“If anything is too much, tell me, okay?” You mumbled a yes, and Mingyu pushed his fingers into your cunt.

“Good?” You choked out a yes. The new angle with which he entered your cunt had you seeing stars. 

“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You mumbled as your legs started to shake, Mingyu simply hummed against your wet folds, and that’s all it took for you cum again. 

“Please, fuck me,” you begged, and Mingyu slowly got up, held your body close to his, and pulled you in for another kiss; you were so immersed in the kiss that you failed to register him lifting you in his arms and aligning you with his hard cock. 

“Can I?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him.

 “Fucking hell, you’re so tight,” Mingyu groaned as he pushed himself into you and started to pound into your cunt. 

 “Fucking hell,” you groaned as you bit down on his shoulder as fucked you into your fourth orgasm. 

“Fuck, I won’t last long,” Mingyu choked out.

“Cum inside me,” you begged him.

Mingyu smiled at you, “gladly,” he said as he thrust into you harder, making you shake and clench around him each time. You moaned when you felt him finally still and cum inside you, his warmth coating your walls. 

Mingyu slowly placed you back down, “fucking hell,” you groaned, grabbing Mingyu’s forearm as he started fingering you hard. 

“One more baby, one more,” Mingyu coaxed as he fingered you to another orgasm. You nodded as you felt yourself cum simply based on his command Mingyu didn’t stop until you came again. This time he finally moved his fingers away from your cunt. 

You were so fucked out. All you could do was hiss slightly when Mingyu finally washed you up, wrapped you in a towel, and carried you to his bed. He towelled your hair dry, put his shirt on you, and pulled you into his arms, wrapping the blanket over you two. 

You turned in his embrace to place your head on his chest, “cuddly,” Mingyu noted with a soft smile on his lips, and you returned a smile back to him, making him bend his head down and capture your lips in a gentle kiss. 

You opened your mouth to speak, and Mingyu held a hand out to stop you. 

“Tomorrow morning, please,” Mingyu pleaded, and you nodded. 

You could do that.

Pretend for one more night.  ~~ Second, Third and Hundredth Chances  ~~

“Morning,” Mingyu greeted you as you entered the kitchen the following day. He stood by the kitchen island, poured himself a cup of coffee and another one, and pushed it across the island, nudging you to sit and face him after six months. 

Six months. That’s how long you went silent on him, blocked him out, and suddenly showed up at his door because of a journal. 

All his life, Mingyu knew you as a planner. You always had a backup plan, so for you to show up unannounced seemed so odd. Maybe you were passing by. Or you just wanted the last word, but after six months. 

Seeing you again, Mingyu felt pain, anger, and hurt, but more than anything, he still felt love. No matter how badly it ended, you were so much more than his ex-girlfriend. You were the woman he once wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It didn’t matter what would transpire; you would always be unique to him, and he could only hope he held a similar position in your heart. 

“So,” Mingyu started to say as you sipped the coffee. 

“I made you cheat. I’m so fucking sorry,” you mumbled, making Mingyu laugh. 

“Right, I didn’t cheat when I was with you, and that’s not something I’m going just to start doing because I’m with someone who isn’t you,” Mingyu said, and you stared at him, confused. 

“But Yuna?” You asked. 

“When you threw me out, I couldn’t find a place that late at night, so I ended up at a bar and cried my eyes out to Yuna. She ran the bar that night and felt sorry for me, so she took me home,” Mingyu explained, pausing to gauge your reaction. 

Mingyu felt slightly cruel for testing you like this, but with the hell, you put him through for six months, this was nothing, and he wanted to see if you still loved him or just got upset because you thought you had some right to him. 

“Yuna and her fiancé, they both, I guess, let me crash and nursed me back that night and just let me mope in their house for a solid month,” Mingyu explained, making you exhale. 

“She calls everyone babe and kisses everyone’s cheeks but only kisses her fiancé’s lips,” Mingyu elaborated, making you sigh in relief. 

“I think it was month two of moping over you, and I was, you know, useless and jobless,” Mingyu continued to speak, hurting you, knowing that you used the exact words when you broke his heart. 

“I was baking a lot, and Yuna’s husband is a famous pastry chef, and he saw me swiping through my Pinterest board and asked if I wanted to do something with my life or just cry over you,” Mingyu chuckled, recalling the memory. 

“So, for four months, I poured all my efforts into my craft, and I picked up everything quickly, and I guess I’ve been lucky, and the bakery is doing well and honestly. I thought I was finally moving on, but then, you showed up at the place I created to get away from the hurt you caused me,” Mingyu finished, his tone now serious and stern. 

“So why are you here, after all these months, and don’t tell me it’s because of a fucking journal. You wouldn’t randomly get on a flight and show up without a plan, so tell me, did you come here to reopen all the wounds I tried so hard to heal?” Mingyu asked, and you fumbled. 

“Do you know what you did to me? That night, you not only assumed that I was an unsupportive boyfriend, but you equated my ability to love you down to the fact that I was unemployed and directionless, and that is fucked up. Like beyond fucked up. So when you threw me out, I honestly believed I was worth nothing. I didn’t think I was enough. While I still want the best for you, you broke me when I needed you most, and seeing you here now, when I’m just getting my shit together, it fucks with me because a part of me wants to kick you out the way you did to me, but a part of me wants to kiss you and try again so tell me Y/N which part should I listen to?” Mingyu fumed, making you cry. 

“Why did you do it? Because what we kept breaking the ‘no sex rule’ or did something else happen? After that date, you said you fell in love with me again, and three days later, you did that. Was it because you accepted the job offer and you felt guilty? I know I’m not perfect, but I broke myself trying to be the man you deserved, and it still wasn’t enough, so I think I am at least owed something, some explanation,” Mingyu implored, his voice softer, and you couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. 

“Fucking speak, will you? You had no problem tearing me apart, so why are you quiet now?” Mingyu asked, frustrated. 

“Because you were bending over backwards, you did so much, and I did nothing. Mingyu, I got mad at you because another girl gave you the attention I didn’t. You were focused on fixing us, and I was focused on just fixing you, and yes, you’re right. The fact that I accepted the job without a second thought for you made me realise what a selfish person I was. I was ashamed, and then you took me out on that date,” you paused to take a breath before continuing. 

“I felt like a failure. I failed you because I was so willing to fix us. Still, I didn’t want to go through the pain because I was scared that at the end of it all, you’d realise that you were better off, and I couldn’t deal with that, so I thought it’d be easier if I made you hate me,” you blubbered out, and Mingyu looked at you in disbelief. 

“I ran away because it was easier. I took the easy way out because the tables had turned. You were succeeding in fixing us, doing the work, and all I could do was watch you put in so much, never expecting anything in return. I couldn’t do that to you, so I just let you go in the worst way possible,” you explained through your tears. 

“I know what you wanted to do the night of the date. I found a velvet box, and I just wanted to confirm that when I flew down here and walked in, it didn’t feel like home. It felt cold and distant, and I didn’t fit here anymore. I saw you happy, glowing, and you had started fresh, and me? I’ve been on autopilot, working, coming home and trying so fucking hard not to think about you, and that journal was an excuse because I couldn’t stay away anymore,” you sputtered out. 

“I knew you wanted to propose, and I ran because while it was everything I ever wanted, I wasn’t the woman you deserved, and I don’t know what I’m doing here because I’m certainly not the woman you deserve now. So, thank you for last night, and I’m sorry that I rehashed old wounds, and it was because I was selfish. I was selfish that night, and I’m still the same,” you cried out. 

“Selfish?” Mingyu repeated as he walked over to you, holding your face. 

“Scared, not selfish,” Mingyu said with a sad smile. 

“How do you not hate me; how can you still be so kind and loving after everything I did to you?” You asked as Mingyu wiped your tears away. 

“Because I still love you, hell you fucked with me, but when I saw you yesterday, it felt like a missing part of me was found, and while it hurt, because I got used to that missing piece, I felt alive, seeing you, and I know that the last time I gave up because I thought that’s what you wanted, but after last night. I know it’s not; it can’t be. So, tell me, did you come back to ask me about a journal entry or because you love me?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed. 

“I left everything. I was looking for something to bring me back to you because, after I left, I didn’t think I had a right to face you again, so the journal was my excuse,” you answered, and Mingyu stared at you. 

“Everything?” Mingyu asked. 

“I quit and packed my shit and came here and handed over the keys to the apartment in Japan to my landlord, and I guess I came here, hoping to come home and selfishly hoping to come back home to you,” you answered, biting your lip unable to look at Mingyu. 

“But your promotion?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 

“It took me six months to realise that no promotion, no success in the world meant anything to me if you weren’t by my side, and it felt hollow. Every applause and pay cheque felt worthless because, in a room full of praises, I only ever wanted to hear your voice and come home. I always hoped that you’d be there, and I’d run into your arms and kiss you, and we would both sit and tell each other about our days, and then at night kiss each other and make love to each other, but all I got was an empty house,” you rambled making Mingyu smile tearily at you. 

“Can I ask you for a favour?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, looking at him. 

“This time, I don’t care how difficult it is, how serious it is, how big or small the issue is, you come to me, no matter if it’s a small issue or a big issue, you’re coming to me, you don’t kick me out, and you don’t fight with me, but you fight for us,” Mingyu explained making your eyes widen. 

“After all I did to you. You’ll take me back?” You asked, and Mingyu smiled at you. 

“I was always going to come back to fight for you. I just needed time to be strong enough to do so, but yes, because if there’s anything these six months taught me, it is that I’d rather spend six months going through this pain a hundred times over, provided that each time the outcome was the same, you back in my life,” Mingyu explained making you cry even more.

“How can you love me so much?” You asked, making Mingyu laugh. 

“You stole my heart in a science class when you threw a paper at my head for being too loud in class, I was yours then, and I’m yours now, so tell me, my love, will you be mine again?” Mingyu asked, and you cried, nodding. 

“If you can forgive me?” You cried out, and Mingyu smiled sweetly at you. 

“I forgave you long ago. I was hurt, but my love for you is paramount, and it’s easier to love you than to be mad at you,” Mingyu explained, hugging you. “The perk of knowing you for so many years is that I know, despite your harsh words, you get defensive and deflective and often, what you do instead of saying the truth is act and lash out.”

“I don’t deserve a love as understanding as the one you have for me,” you admitted, and Mingyu shrugged. 

“We didn’t have the most perfect few years, but maybe that’s what we needed. Maybe Dr Kwan’s separation therapy worked because six months of radio silence was more painful than when we were fighting. After all, at least I could see you hug you, and talk to you, but not hear a word from you, not knowing anything that was nothing short of torture. I don’t want to go through that again,” Mingyu explained.

“It took me losing you to realise how much I love you,” you answered, pausing to wipe your tears, “and if you let me, Mingyu, I’ll never let you go again. I’ll love you the way I always should have, and I’ll never let you go because losing you was like I lost my ability to breathe, but here in your arms. I feel safe, loved, and at home, and I don’t want to lose my home again, and I-” Mingyu’s lips cut off your speech on yours. 

“Sorry, but I had to,” Mingyu said sheepishly, making you smile. 

“This will sound weird, but Y/N, will you go on a date with me?” Mingyu asked, making you smile as you burst into a wide smile and hugged him tightly. 

“I’d love to,” you answered. 

“Good, Tuesday night? I’ll pick you up. It’s a surprise,” Mingyu asked, and you nodded furiously. 

All those times you thought it’d work, you always were still unsure, but today, right now, you knew that you’d love him because loving him allowed you to see the world in colour and losing him took away all the colour and joy in the world and this time you didn’t want to fix it for the sake of it. 

You wanted to fix it because you loved him. 

The Finale: What I Should Have Said

One Year Later  

“Oh, for the love of God, please do not break,” Mingyu muttered as he set up the decorations for  your anniversary date on the balcony. At this moment, he was yelling at a bouquet to stand still. 

“Mingyu? What is so urgent? I’m home?” You called out, and Mingyu pouted, glaring at the faultless flower bouquet. You were back and early, 

“In here!” Mingyu yelled out. 

You walked into the house, noticing all the lights had been dimmed. There were flower petals everywhere. You smiled. You knew Mingyu was going to do something for the anniversary. You just weren’t entirely sure what. 

“Hi,” Mingyu looked up to see you, smiling at the decorations. He walked over to you and kissed you. 

“Happy Anniversary.” He mumbled against your lips.

“Happy Anniversary to you, too,” you said. You smiled as he held your hand and pulled you to the sofa. 

“Ooh, cake!” You exclaimed, making Mingyu roll his eyes at you.  

“I’m a three-course meal, and you are salivating over a cake?” Mingyu complained, but you laughed.

“Oh, get over it,” You kept laughing, and Mingyu sliced a piece out for you. He was oddly precise and took a long time to slice the cake. 

“Dude, just give me the cake,” you muttered, and Mingyu scowled.

“Did you just dude me?” Mingyu asked dramatically. You smiled at him as you took the cake from him and immediately scooped a piece into your mouth. You felt something sharp in your mouth; you tasted blood and metal and glared at Mingyu. 

“What did you do? Accidentally leave a fork in the cake?” You glared, and Mingyu gasped in an attempt to bite back a laugh. 

“Why don’t you get cleaned up and find out?” Mingyu offered, and you looked at him strangely. However, it was your turn to gasp as you ran to the bathroom and pulled a ring from your mouth. 

You washed the ring and returned to the balcony where Mingyu was frantically pacing. 

���Mingyu?” You asked, holding out the now-washed ring in your hand. Mingyu took it from you and knelt down. 

“I waited too long last time, I waited for a sign, the right time, all that bullshit, and I’m not saying that if I had done it earlier, our problems would have never occurred, but I know waiting sure as hell didn’t help. I know I wanted to marry you when I was 19, and now, more than ten years later, I still want that, except this time, I don’t want to wait to find the right time, place or anything. I don’t need any of that. I just know that I need the right person, and I have that with you, my love,” Mingyu declared, making you tear up. 

“The last year has been a lot for us. We found each other again and worked together to fix ourselves, and you know what? I’d do it all over again if it meant fixing us, and if it meant that a year later, I’d be here proposing to you, so what do you say, Y/N? Will you be mine forever, and will you love me forever the way I know I will love you?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, unable to say much but give him a muffled yes. 

Mingyu slipped the ring onto your finger, pulled you into his arms, and hugged you tightly. 

“When I said we’d be okay, this is what I meant, I knew it’d hurt, and it’d take fucking a lot of time and patience, but I’d do it all over again a thousand times even if this is the ending, I get each time we’re done,” Mingyu spoke, and you looked up at him smiling. 

“Me too. I’d lose you a thousand times over if it meant being back in your arms at the end,” you replied, making Mingyu smile. 

“I love you,” Mingyu said, and you smiled at him, “I love you too, so much you loved me despite all my flaws and imperfections”, you replied.

“I saw those ‘flaws’ and ‘imperfections,’ and I fell in love with every part of you. We’re both imperfect, but the way we love each other, now that’s fucking perfect!” Mingyu replied, holding you tighter. 

You knew this was your home; with him in his arms, that’s where it was no longer cold; it was warm, safe, and it was home. 

He was home.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I Never Missed You 3/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k

Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)

Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.

A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Angst and smut and fluff (the holy trinity!) in this last part.

Part 1 Part 2

Juice spills all over the table from the oranges you press, but you don't mind. There has been a soft smile on your face all morning.

Simon's still sleeping, and you want to surprise him with a special breakfast today: scrambled eggs, freshly pressed orange juice, berries, and…

"You took my shirt."

You flinch when you hear his familiar rumble not a few feet away. The staircase wailed like a widow last night, but obviously, this man has learned to avoid the creaky spots when he wants. A goddamn heavyweight ninja...

"I'm sorry." You lick your fingers from the juice and try to feign innocence. The sleeves of his black tee reach your elbows, but you're not sorry. Nor do you feel bad about seeing him in your kitchen without a shirt.

"It was not an accusation," he says, the corner of his mouth curving a little, the dark eyes that made love to you last night giving you an approving once-over.

You approach him with a glass full of sun, but it's you he grabs in his hold. Your fingers find the scars on his back as you two embrace, and you feel an odd churn in your stomach.

"What's this…?"

Your hand floats across the embossed, white ridges that crisscross his back. The collection forms an entire mountain range, and it's chilling because you've only brushed the space between his shoulder blades.

"A reminder. To trust no one."

"No one…?"

"No one."

You remain a coward and refrain from asking for more details. You doubt he would even share them.

"I made you breakfast," you lower your gaze to the colorful palette you've gathered on the plates. Is it some sort of an instinct to want to feed a man after they've fucked you so good?

"So I see," he says, ever more approvingly. Then you're lifted on the table, next to the plates, like you're the breakfast.

Soon you're only wearing his shirt and your tiny socks, which Simon decides to leave on, too busy with getting his face between your legs. 

No one has done anything like that before… No one has chosen you over breakfast; an entire abundance of delicacies laid out. 

He licks you until your legs are trembling on that tortured back. You're pure, you're untouched by evil, and he carries your naivety on his shoulders like it weighs nothing. He flattens his tongue on you, sucks your flesh, tortures you on that table and doesn't even mind his teeth all too much. The peak stubble he hasn't yet shaved stings and burns as he moves across your folds. 

Saying that the coarse chin on your silk feels good would be an understatement. You come undone next to the breakfast, clad in golden light shining through the small window left uncovered.

You feel alive, and raw, and stellar. A shooting star, a comet high above the sky, although the space through which you ignite consists of golden rays of sunlight and the scent of orange juice. 

He takes the shirt back after he's done. After you're done and try your best to return back to earth with shaking legs. The only thing you're wearing is your socks, but you feel completely naked before him, dopey and dumb before the day has even started. Simon only licks his lips, throws that shirt on, and grabs his plate.

He dares to comment that there's no hot water. You put the kettle on with a wobble, feeling hotness on your cheeks while he sits down to eat his second breakfast like it's the most natural thing in the world: to wreck you first thing in the morning.

…............................

Simon.

He fixes the door on your fridge. He helps you clean your garage and fucks you on the table. Oily, dusty, filthy table. You go to shower after, together. You're giggling; he's smiling. Fully, now.

You want to ask him, Is this free of charge too…? Not just his cock... But his smiles. His assistance and support. The looks he grants you when you come out of the shower, ready to be licked to ruin.

He calls you his Princess to tease you just right. To get you in a state where your eyes flash with half-rage, half-lust, just before he slips inside you. He knows exactly which strings to pull – and then calls you love just when you're about to give him a piece of your mind.

You end up on the table, on the counter, on the floor. He takes you while your jaw slowly falls open from his audacity and his cock, splitting you apart with slow love. The first time he takes you in a missionary, you squirt. It's like his cock was made for you. And he dares to tease you about that, too.

"Did ya just squirt all over my cock?"

You have tears in your eyes, shame on your cheeks, and he's wetter than a wet dog down there… then he makes you squirt again, high on the lewd, obscene praise you just gave him with your pussy. 

Your cunt can't lie; he knows it by now. So it's futile to keep your lips sealed either.

Kiss me. 

That's what you would've usually ordered. But after an exceptionally quiet and passionate and desperate fuck that leaves you both catching your breath, leaves him hovering only inches from your sweaty upper lip, you whisper…

"I want to kiss you."

You expect him to laugh or mock you, at least crack a stupid joke or two. But he doesn't. Instead, his eyes drop to your lips, and he swallows with a heavy roll, then closes the gap between you two. Covers your mouth with his, uses that strong jaw to open you for devouring.

The kiss lasts long enough for you to begin breathing through your nose. Your inner walls grip him, still buried deep inside, and the gusts of exhales passing through his nostrils hit your face with pure bliss. He’s a little breathless when he parts – withdraws just enough to look into your eyes.

“Will that do...?”

There is a drunken vigor in his eyes of crushed amber, but to your shock, you hear your own question laid out before you. The one you asked when you were going to that party.

Will I do…?

Your hands find his jaw and cup his face from both sides, drawing him back to your lips.

“Yes." 

You will more than just do. 

And then you say… 

"I want more.”

He chuckles a soft scoff on your face. 

"Greedy little thing." 

Then he swallows you again. You kiss for a good few minutes while he grows half-hard inside you. It's the most romantic kiss you have shared with anyone, ever. He tells you how spoiled you are between the breaths you both catch, then spoils you some more with his mouth and tongue and cock. 

You start to curl together in the evening. Just to watch a comedy. He massages your feet and smiles more every day. It's kind of domestic, how he wrinkles his nose at your fine white wine and asks what it is in that decanter you have in your study. When you say it's just some old bourbon, he goes and gets himself a glass like he's finally made himself at home. 

It makes your heart grow thick from love. You almost forget why he's here in the first place.

When you ask him about the plan, he explains it to you in detail while kissing his way down your ribs and navel. He takes his sweet time while doing it, kissing the inside of your thigh, the hollow place below the knee, the tender skin under the knee. He kisses your calf and the ankle bone while holding your leg up for his lips with just one hand. Then he does the same to your other leg, but this time, kisses his way from ankle to thigh until he reaches…

You.

You've forgotten half the plan by then because you realize Simon hasn't looked at you like you're a steak or garbage in a long, long time. 

He looks at you like you're a queen. You could say he worships you, but the thought alone makes your heart flutter with the anxiety of a fragile hummingbird. 

Simon gets you your groceries and gets himself only a beer as a reward. You would happily offer him a case if you knew it would make him happy.

But you don't really know what would make him happy. You don't know anything about this man. You know he likes it when you're dolled up and angry. He likes you when you're sleepy, without makeup, wearing only his shirt. He likes to fuck you from behind and hold you close after. He likes to give you a wash, likes it when you wash him. He likes to watch the two tall trees outside the window sway when there's a strong wind. 

"What makes you happy?" You ask one night after you've had him in your mouth.

"Blowjobs," he answers with a straight face, and you shove him in the shoulder. Nicely. Softly.

"No, for real."

"I dunno." He sighs and turns to stare at your ceiling with a bothered look. It's a tricky question, perhaps. Or weapons, not willingly gifted. 

"Dogs," he shrugs after a while. "A day of silence. Good whiskey."

He doesn't grant you weapons. You get some rope, but not enough to choke him with it. He trusts no one.

"Why don't you like missionary…?" You continue roasting him while curling your fingers around the pale hair on his chest.

"I never said I didn't like it."

"Don't avoid the question, Mr. Doggystyle."

You prop yourself up on your elbow and place your palm flat over his heart. His stare slowly drifts from the ceiling back to you.

"Simon. Why do you always fuck me from behind?" 

He raises his eyebrows like he's innocent of the crime he's being accused of. "Not always."

"Seriously, Simon."

The smug look returns; it gives his eyes a delightful little spark and tugs at the corner of that kissable mouth.

"I like your ass."

"But not my eyes?"

The smile dies, and he gulps down a short surprise, caught between truth and dare. But then his eyes settle like the calming sea under a full moon. Stern, but not remorseless. Bold, but not heartless. If anything, he's naked and bare.

"Darlin'. Love your eyes the most."

Your heart does a backflip. You've been a fool because what else has he done but search for your eyes first thing in the morning? Given you flashes of mischief over breakfast, made love to you with those eyes as you cum around his cock? That liquid fire and smoke hasn't left you since he stepped inside this house.

You breathe together; you can feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. There was a time when you thought this man was incapable of love, but now you fear he has never been allowed to love enough.

"We never talked, you know," you whisper. His heart swells underneath your palm like a sail.

"What'ya wanna talk about?"

"Us."

"So talk."

Walls are raised so quickly you feel them knocking the warmth out of your body. It's cold, it's Antarctic, the technique he uses to withdraw. Your room turns into a kingdom of ice from the cruel, emotionless indifference he emits. 

You've been a fool, yes... And a child.

"You're making it hard," you say, noticing how the man starts to tense up under your fingertips. This is not the way, but you're not smart enough to stop your rampage.

"What happens when you've done your job?"

He doesn't sigh. He doesn't even think twice before giving his answer.

"I go back to the base."

You know now why he's called a ghost. You wonder if he was ever even here. Simon becomes a reminder for you, a reminder to trust no one.

"...Right." You pull your hand away slowly. As if it somehow helps with the pain to pretend you haven't just touched a hot stove and ended up getting your fingers burned.

He notices how you tense up far more than he. The arm around your waist goes tight, and you wonder if you've always been a bloodied steak to this brute, a stupid little princess with your wines, sighs, and wet eyes. He just doesn't want to let go of the last bites of his fine, delicious meat.

"I never thought you wanted a relationship," he says with a hollow voice, and the red rage nearly blinds your sight. You're too riled up to even yell at him.

"Love…" he tries for the last time.

"Get out of my bed."

…............................

His musk still clings to you as you descend the stairs the next morning.

He's sitting at the end of the steps with hunched shoulders and a tense back, exiled into the man he was the first day you met him. Your heart bleeds from the sight, wondering whether Simon has waited there the whole night after you kicked him out of your bedroom. But the boiling bile in your stomach forces you to lift your chin and draw your shoulders back as you walk down those steps with an audible clatter as your heels clack across the parquet.

He must've heard you before you make a racket fitting for an angered queen, but rises only after you've made it halfway through the staircase. You won't allow yourself to even look his way as he draws a deep breath.

"Love. Sweetheart."

But with that, you flash the man a stare full of despise as you walk past him.

"Don't."

"Let me–"

"Don't say a word," you take a sharp turn and raise a hand to shield you from whatever brutality he would like to stain you with. "You don't talk to me. You just do your job. Ok?"

His chest swells with another deep breath, but otherwise, this man is still as a statue again.

"Ma'am."

It takes you a while to notice he has regressed back to that term again, and you tilt your head. The movement is that of a warrior who swings her sword to a guard before a fight. He crosses his hands over his crotch as if to shield the most vulnerable parts from a low blow, but his eyes are full of hateful hurt as he gives you his most pretentious, mocking tone.

"Miss."

Your heart skips a beat – Simon becomes the thing you miss. 

A hit and run.

You have to resist the urge to grimace at the pure venom in his voice - it doesn't matter what he calls you because that tone seeps straight through your skin like lye. It hurts; it burns to see him even more withdrawn to his shell than when you first met. He retreats far beyond the front line, he goes further than the rear, and it's a bitter defeat for both of you. 

This man has rubbed your feet while you've laughed at a stupid joke in a sitcom. The same man has been inside you – night after night after night. It rips your heart to see a distant, perfectly blank expression on his face after you've seen him give you a plentitude of relaxed and wicked little smiles. 

You share the breakfast in funeral-like silence. You wish you could pay him to stay home so that you can go through your day filled with terror and longing without Simon Riley following you around.

"I've been meaning to update you on new intel about the target," he breaks the silence, and your heart feels like it's being put through a wringer. Simon hasn't even touched his breakfast. "Turns out he received training in a sniper unit."

"So?"

"There's a high chance he might prefer to use long-range weapons."

He's professional, curt, clinical. Even more so than when you first shook hands with him. And all the while, those eyes burn you; they examine you like you're the most challenging puzzle he's ever tried to solve. He's cold as ice with his words and hot as hell with that stare. Those eyes seem to pierce your clothes, they even reach under your skin.

"Right," you say without giving him a single look back.

"We have to update our protocol asap."

Our…

We.

"The protocol…" you whisper and finally look up at him. His lips draw into a thin line as he sees how your walls crumble; they didn't last even half a day.

"Simon, I can't do this," you say, your voice breaking. The tears are only seconds away. They blur your sight, but as he rises from the table slowly and takes a hesitant step towards you, you turn your head back to your toast with a snap.

"I want to change bodyguards."

From the corner of your blurred vision, you see how he raises a hand. If you didn't know any better, you could say that he's at his weakest. But the hand falls straight back and gives a twitch by his side. You wonder why he even bothers to disguise the spasm so lousily as a stretch. It's as if he wants you to see that he's in tumult too.

"I'll stay until–"

"No. Get out."

"Miss. I'll just get my things," he says, and you nod briefly. No exchange of gazes is probably the best policy after informing him you no longer need his services. It's better to rip the band-aid off with one yank than try to pretend that this relationship was something more than sexual. 

You know he came to your house with minimal belongings, a duffel bag full of spare clothes and a large case which you supposed was a container for different weapons. That is why you notice he takes a surprisingly long time to get those things and leave your house.

When he finally emerges from his room – no, not his room, but the guest room, you remind yourself – he places the luggage in the hallway and comes back to you, probably to say his polite farewells.

"You won't let me speak to you, so I wrote you a fuckin' letter."

You turn to solid stone as he places an envelope between your water glass and cup of coffee. You sit with your heart thumping in your chest as he picks up his things, walks to the door, walks out of it and out of your life.

It's one of those moments you wish you could freeze and rewind. Do everything differently so that it wouldn't have to come to this. Instead, you listen how the front door clunks shut.

Then you send your trembling fingers up from your lap and onto the pure white thing that holds his secrets. You pry it open and find yourself reading the lines, scribbled with surprisingly sophisticated handwriting, through a round of hot tears.

They cloud your vision, but they don't cloud his words.

You skim through the letter in a frenzied hurry once, then again with more control, and try to remember how to breathe.

He shares shrivels from his past, ugly, horrid things which make your breakfast nearly push up your throat. He tells you he stopped dating eleven years ago for a reason. He writes that he would rather be tortured again than make you suffer from his past and incapacities.

There are certain lines that enter your heart like a thief with the most delicate crowbar. Lines like I'm not good with words and You must know by now that I'm a broken man.

Lines like I'm not a fucking poet but I'll miss your warmth even under the desert sun.

Some lines make you want to tear the letter to pieces. Lines such as Don't throw your diamonds in the dust and I can't give you what you deserve.

He thinks you can't take his darkness, so he shelters you from it. He says he would come back to you if he could. You don't know what the hell he means by that. 

If he could? 

What the fuck prevents him?

You sit inside your empty, lonely house, confident of the fact that it is not you who prevents it. It was not you who just sent him out that door. Who commanded him to leave because you didn't need his services anymore.

The letter makes you cry, and then it makes you boil.

Such sweet words, and so many empty sentences. If only, if I wasn't, if I could.

You get the feeling that he's mocking you again. If only you weren't a princess and a spoiled brat, then perhaps he could reconsider this relationship.

You leave the letter there; you leave your coffee and your breakfast. You almost wish someone would shoot you and put you out of your misery as you call a taxi and go to the heart of the city.

You're completely numb as your fingertips brush silk and linen and all the newest designs. They curl around tiny bottles of bright nail polish and touch the perfumes made from the last free wildflowers of a burning world, but you feel nothing stir inside.

You're emptier than the echo that rings through the malls and corridors of stone; you feel poorer than all the beggars on the street. Shopping always makes you feel better. But now you want to burn all your money, throw your jewels out the window, torch all the fucking stores like some bloody anarchist. You leave every store without buying a thing and try to remember what it was to have lunch without drowning in tears that can't be cried in public.

"I can't give you what you deserve."

That's the line that scalds you most. You know what he meant when he wrote those words, seemingly humble. But your bleeding heart twists that sentence until his words are a testimony of pure rejection.

You have money, so you don't deserve love, is that it?

You want to find him and shake him. It's not about what you deserve or what he deserves. It's not about what anyone deserves. And if the bloody man thinks he doesn't deserve love only because he's made his home in suffering, then he's the last person who should be allowed to decide who deserves what.

You walk through the crowds and streets like a small whirlwind, on the verge of yelling your heart and loneliness out in the air until your vocal cords are raw. You're so riled your mind doesn't even register the gunshot.

The only thing you hear is a glass shattering next to you just before an entire boulder hits you.

His scent envelops you like a safe, warm blanket, even if that blanket weighs a ton and causes your jeans to grate and tear as you two hit the asphalt. Simon gives you bruises, scrapes and burns all across your left side as your body grinds through the dirt. 

Another shot is fired; this time, a car's glass is shattered above you, and the body surrounding you tenses until you worry your bodyguard has been hit. The bodyguard you fired this morning, who's still doing his job, who never even left you…

People are screaming and running in different directions all around and above you, but time comes to a halt as Simon rises only an inch or two.

"Stay down," he gruffs in your ear. "Don't move. Don't you fucking move, ok?"

The whole world could've gone silent from the way you only hear his voice. His words. His distress. You remain still as a stone and look up at him – your lips part because he's looking at you with impatience that's not just pressing; it's demanding.

"Yes," you stutter, "yes, of course."

Someone's pissed because a third shot sends him right back over you, and only then do you notice you're clinging to him, to his jacket and his shirt, like he's a human shield. Then the human shield speaks again, and the words that come out only make you grip him tighter.

"He has to change the magazine soon. You stay right here, ok? I'm going in."

"No, don't," your fingers curl around his clothes and try to keep him on top of you. "Don't go. I'm afraid."

I'll get you a dog. 

A day of silence. 

I'll buy you some good whiskey. I promise…

"I'll be right back," he murmurs, more softly now. "I promise." 

Then he rips himself off you. Your body misses his heat like the desert sand must miss the sun, and you realize you've ruined everything as you finally get to watch him in his element. He's agile and beautiful as he reaches for his gun, takes it out, and prepares it in a few seconds to fire death upon your faceless enemy. You've ruined everything because if Simon goes in, he might get killed – he's a human, not a shield, he's not even a weapon – and all the things you never said will haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Don't leave me," you want to reach for him, but don't dare disobey his orders. It should send you laughing: that you're finally doing precisely as he says. You finally trust your life with him, just before he leaves you, leaves you, leaves you. 

"Simon–"

"Sweetheart. I never left you."

He looks straight into your eyes. You gulp the tears now.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper, and someone is screaming; everythings a buzz, cars whir by as you tell him all the things you meant to say weeks ago. "I never wanted you to go. I always liked you. I– I think I love–"

"Shh. Don't you do this to me now."

The words are so soft you have to struggle to hear what he's saying under his breath. It's like he's talking to himself, and you realize you're an asshole, saying things like that to him when he's trying to concentrate on his mission and his job. But you just can't help yourself sometimes. No one in your life compares to him. No one has caused such a ruckus, such turmoil, such devastation and such love.

"Do what?" you whimper there, motionless on the ground as he gives you a last, painful look before his stare fixes on the piece of glass still unshattered, the dim, transient mirror of a store window he uses to locate movement in one of the buildings. 

Then he takes a peek over the car, and you hold your breath – he's the bait now, and ducks his head immediately as two more shots are fired. You don't even have the strength to scream; your whole body simply shudders from the echoing sound of pure fear – how can he play tag with death like that? 

And then he leaves. 

He rounds the car and darts for the building and the sniper; he disappears from your vision so quickly you wonder if these past weeks have been but a dream.

A hit and run.

"Do what…" you repeat on the ground and curl into yourself even though he said you shouldn't move. You figure it's not that big of a crime to go into a fetal position when you don't know if he's ever coming back to scold you for breaking the rules.

You want to close your ears from the sounds that follow – you fear you'll jinx something if you listen too closely to what happens in that building. You try to concentrate on your breaths, slowly bringing you back to your body. You haven't even noticed that there's blood running down your arm.

It's funny how you only notice the pain after seeing the flowing crimson that makes small rivers around your fingers. You don't want to look at your burning shoulder because the shock is already here. 

The searing pulse gets worse as you hear another shot, then another shot. Those sounds pound inside your shoulder and send more fire down your arm. Minutes or hours pass and you think how strange it is that everything's completely still, how bizarre it is that there are no sirens, no cars, no screaming. They've finally closed off the roads.

You only start to cry when you see that he's alive.

You try to rise from the ground to meet him – a bleeding princess, waking from her beauty sleep and realizing everything's just been a bad dream, greeting her knight in a black pair of fitted tactical pants and a pistol on his waist. Diamonds and darkness…

He rushes to you in what seems like desperation. You find it oddly beautiful that he's not only relieved to see his client is still alive and well, he's also relieved to know you're still there. That his princess has waited for him.

He falls on his knees and prevents you from rising. You're quickly wrapped in his arms, feeling so happy and safe that you don't even bother to tell him you're injured. It's just a scratch anyway. Even if your leg was blown off, you wouldn't complain about being picked up in his lap like this. 

"Shh. I got you. I got you."

He's cradling you like a child while tears stream down your face, but there's no audible sounds of crying. You weep a whole river of tears and your nose is clogged, forcing you to breathe through your mouth, but there's no wailing, no screaming, no bawling. The first words that roll off your tongue are a child's moody complaint.

"You left me," you mope as he caresses your head.

"Only for a little while."

"You came back."

"I said I would."

More tears flow, and this time you sniffle and sob. He rocks you gently back and forth as you cry in his embrace. Simon would make a good father.

"Is he…?" You whisper, then look up at him. He just nods and gives you a quick scan, drawing a sharp breath when he notices the wound on your arm. 

You're placed back on the ground as he inspects your shoulder and tells you the bullet managed to scrape some skin but has mostly just ruined your jacket. You're almost sorry that the wound is not as severe as it feels. You thought the burning sensation meant shattered bones and scarred flesh, but the scratch is no deeper than if you had accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife.

"No, I don't want… No hospital," you beg as he offers to take you to ER. You're not spending the rest of the day in a frigid treatment room where tired medical personnel only clean the wound and put a big plaster on it. 

"Just take me home," you plead like you're his daughter who doesn't want to go to school today. "Please?"

"Sure. Whatever ya want."

He makes a few phone calls, arranges things with the local police or something. You don't want to know anything about it. You don't want to know who got shot in that building and how.

It's not a taxi that drives you back this time. You don't know where he got a car and a driver, but the vehicle is big and black, and your head is in Simon's lap when you lie in the backseat. There's a panel between the driver's seat and the rear, so you don't even know who's driving, but you're only grateful for the privacy after the crazy morning followed by a murder attempt. You look up at Simon, who looks back at you for the first time while you're in a car together.

"Why did you become a soldier?" You ask, not knowing why you're whispering. He's holding your hand – a simple, wholesome thing to do, but his grip on you is solid and warm and feels equally as intimate as the times this man has been inside you. 

"I wanted to help people." 

"By killing them?"

"By saving those I can."

He keeps a hand on your cheek too. Simon has spoken softly ever since you were fired at, has been humane and caring and tender, and you realize… This man is naked before you; he's stripped bare from all pretenses. 

And he's not darkness. He's not a skeleton or a dead man or even a soldier.

He's a beacon in the night.

"You did a good job," you squeeze his hand softly.

The last glass-like veil in his eyes shatters, but far more softly than those windows shot at with a rifle.

"I live to serve, Ma'am...–Miss."

"Don’t… Simon, please don’t call me a–"

He descends. He doesn't need that hand to lift your chin up to meet him in a kiss. It's not a hungry devouring this time, but a soft promise, a lover's seal. You feel the rest of the shock leave your body in his embrace. There's no more coldness, only a fragile burning.

"You never look me in the eyes," you whisper as a tear escapes from the corner of your eye. It's a silly thing to say when he looks at you with all the love in the world.

"Yes I do," he gives you a soft brush of a thumb across your cheek. His lips are right there, an inch away from yours. "How could you have missed that?"

He's right, as always. The dark love almost swallows the brown of his eyes as he looks at you, shining light on you as he has shined for days, for weeks now. How could you have missed that, indeed? You raise a hand to cup his cheek, not caring about the pain, not even mourning that your blood stains his chin. He doesn't seem to mind at all, so why would you?

When you arrive at your house, he drives away the loneliness, sorrow, everything a rich girl can fear by carrying you in his arms, stepping over the threshold with you like you two are married now.

He peels your jacket off with affection and tenderness, tends to your wound and wipes away the blood that has caked dry all over your arm. The gash has bled a lot for such a small wound, and you purse your lips from how accurately it reflects your feelings for him.

He ties the wound, checks at least two times he's not tying it too tight. His care breaks your heart, because you don't know whether he will leave you after this. There's nothing that keeps him here anymore – there's no way you can keep Simon Riley to yourself. So you abandon him first for the second time, ascend the stairs to your lonely domain while he cleans up the small mess in the bathroom.

It's a small miracle that he follows you. He opens the door to your room without knocking – not because he's entitled to your privacy, but because there are no more barriers between you two. You're gathered in a stout embrace for the second time this afternoon, and you wrap your arms around him to hold him closer.

"You'll leave me soon," you speak to the wall before you, to the man behind you, holding you so gently against his chest. "I'll miss you."

"Love," he murmurs behind you, you feel the words against your back as a warm rumble. "I'll come back. If you want me, I'll come back to you."

"You will…?"

"I promise."

You have no more tears to cry, so you settle for examining the stab inside your heart, the wound that will bleed you dry if no one ties it tightly enough. 

"I don't believe you."

"It's not a matter of whether you believe me."

He turns you around and lets you bathe in his warmth again, the same golden light that came through the window when he placed his mouth on you in the kitchen. It's almost frightening to know that there's nothing that can keep him from you. Nothing, except you. The only thing that has stood between you was only and ever pride.

"Simon," you breathe, a soft attempt to introduce him to mercy. "It's not a matter of what we deserve."

He blinks a few times, the chest against your side collapses a little. It's a hard reset. The corner of his mouth tugs, a beautiful betrayal of his surrender, a sign of being hit by a boulder – your boulder, finally bringing the rest of those walls down.

"You think so...?"

"Yes. I think so."

He brushes his knuckles across your sternum – a familiar motion that always manages to lift your heart. You used to think it was foreplay when it was in truth, an attempt to touch the organ said to be the house of love.

You think about the times his harsh breaths have hit you just before he cums, the urgent praise he's peppered you with merely seconds before you've cried from pleasure. Can't get enough of you pet, you’re fucking perfect, 'm gonna make you cum, sing for me, just like that... 

You always thought it was a catalogue of shallow lust when it was an offering of naked devotion. 

He was as vulnerable as you when you drifted through space together, when you drowned in his stunning midnight sea. He was catching fire and burning too, again and again until you were both satisfied and sweaty. He always held you close after, panted desperate love on your skin, planted kisses on your collarbones and neck before resting his head on your heart. Settling there, over your pulse, like he had finally found his way home…

The hand glides between your breasts and molds itself over your waist. It fits there like a second skin. You're relatively sure his hands were made for holding you. 

"You asked what makes me happy," he says, completely naked and bare. The heavy love surrounds you with warm safety; your breath flows freely as you await his confession, the last secret revealed. "I think you know, love."

You know. It has finally dawned on you. What you didn't know was that tears of hope could feel like fire too. You've never been more eager to burn.

"Now keep those pretty eyes on me."

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hey, I wanted to ask, do you have any tips for numbers and their meanings, For example: what does the number 5 represent?

Writing Notes: Symbolism of Numbers

In symbolism, numbers are not merely the expressions of quantities, but idea-forces, each with a particular character of its own.

The actual digits are, as it were, only the outer garments.

All numbers are derived from the number one (which is equivalent to the mystic, nonmanifest point of no magnitude).

The farther a number is from unity, the more deeply it is involved in matter, in the involutive process, in the“world.”

The first 10 numbers in the Greek system (or twelve in the oriental tradition) pertain to the spirit: they are entities, archetypes and symbols.

The rest are the product of combinations of these basic numbers.

Below are the most generally accepted symbolic meanings of each number.

ZERO

Non-being, mysteriously connected with unity as its opposite and its reflection; it is symbolic of the latent and potential and is the “Orphic Egg.”

From the viewpoint of man in existence, it symbolizes death as the state in which the life-forces are transformed.

Because of its circular form, it signifies eternity.

ONE

Symbolic of being and of the revelation to men of the spiritual essence.

The active principle which, broken into fragments, gives rise to multiplicity, and is to be equated with the mystic Centre, the Irradiating Point and the Supreme Power.

Stands for spiritual unity—the common basis among all beings.

Guénon draws a distinction between unity and one, after the Islamic mystic thinkers: unity differs from one in that it is absolute and complete in itself, admitting neither two nor dualism.

Hence, unity is the symbol of divinity.

Is also equated with light.

TWO

Stands for echo, reflection, conflict and counterpoise or contraposition; or the momentary stillness of forces in equilibrium; it also corresponds to the passage of time—the line which goes from behind forward; it is expressed geometrically by two points, two lines or an angle.

It is also symbolic of the first nucleus of matter, of nature in opposition to the creator, of the moon as opposed to the sun.

In all esoteric thought, two is regarded as ominous: it connotes shadow and the bisexuality of all things, or dualism (represented by the basic myth of the Gemini) in the sense of the connecting-link between the immortal and the mortal, or of the unvarying and the varying.

Within the mystic symbolism of landscape in megalithic culture, two is associated with the mandorla-shaped mountain, the focal point of symbolic Inversion, forming the crucible of life and comprising the two opposite poles of good and evil, life and death.

THREE

Symbolizes spiritual synthesis, and is the formula for the creation of each of the worlds.

Represents the solution of the conflict posed by dualism.

Forms a half-circle comprising: birth, zenith and descent.

Geometrically it is expressed by three points and by the triangle.

The harmonic product of the action of unity upon duality.

The number concerned with basic principles, and expresses sufficiency, or the growth of unity within itself.

Associated with the concepts of heaven and the Trinity.

FOUR

Symbolic of the earth, of terrestrial space, of the human situation, of the external, natural limits of the “minimum” awareness of totality, and, finally, of rational organization.

Equated with the square and the cube, and the cross representing the four seasons and the points of the compass.

A great many material and spiritual forms are modelled after the quaternary.

The number associated with tangible achievement and with the Elements.

In mystic thought, it represents the tetramorphs.

FIVE

Symbolic of Man, health and love, and of the quintessence acting upon matter.

Comprises the four limbs of the body plus the head which controls them, and likewise the four fingers plus the thumb and the four cardinal points together with the centre.

The hieros gamos is signified by the number five, since it represents the union of the principle of heaven (three) with that of the Magna Mater (two).

Geometrically, it is the pentagram, or the five-pointed star.

Corresponds to pentagonal symmetry, a common characteristic of organic nature, to the golden section (as noted by the Pythagoreans), and to the five senses representing the five “forms” of matter.

SIX

Symbolic of ambivalence and equilibrium, six comprises the union of the two triangles (of fire and water) and hence signifies the human soul.

The Greeks regarded it as a symbol of the hermaphrodite.

It corresponds to the six Directions of Space (two for each dimension), and to the cessation of movement (since the Creation took six days).

Hence it is associated with trial and effort.

Shown to be related to virginity, and to the scales.

SEVEN

Symbolic of perfect order, a complete period or cycle.

Comprises the union of the ternary and the quaternary, and hence it is endowed with exceptional value.

Corresponds to the seven Directions of Space (that is, the six existential dimensions plus the centre), to the seven-pointed star, to the reconciliation of the square with the triangle by superimposing the latter upon the former (as the sky over the earth) or by inscribing it within.

It is the number forming the basic series of musical notes, of colours and of the planetary spheres, as well as of the gods corresponding to them; and also of the capital sins and their opposing virtues.

Corresponds to the three-dimensional cross.

The symbol of pain.

EIGHT

The octonary, related to two squares or the octagon, is the intermediate form between the square (or the terrestrial order) and the circle (the eternal order) and is, in consequence, a symbol of regeneration.

By virtue of its shape, the numeral is associated with the two interlacing serpents of the caduceus, signifying the balancing out of opposing forces or the equivalence of the spiritual power to the natural.

It also symbolizes—again because of its shape—the eternally spiralling movement of the heavens (shown also by the double sigmoid line—the sign of the infinite).

Because of its implications of regeneration, eight was in the Middle Ages an emblem of the waters of baptism.

Corresponds in mediaeval mystic cosmogony to the fixed stars of the firmament, denoting that the planetary influences have been overcome.

NINE

The triangle of the ternary, and the triplication of the triple.

It is therefore a complete image of the three worlds.

The end-limit of the numerical series before its return to unity.

For the Hebrews, it was the symbol of truth, being characterized by the fact that when multiplied it reproduces itself (in mystic addition).

In medicinal rites, it is the symbolic number par excellence, for it represents triple synthesis, that is, the disposition on each plane of the corporal, the intellectual and the spiritual.

TEN

Symbolic, in decimal systems, of the return to unity.

In the Tetractys (whose triangle of points—four, three, two, one—adds up to ten) it is related to four.

Symbolic also of spiritual achievement, as well as of unity in its function as an even (or ambivalent) number or as the beginning of a new, multiple series.

According to some theories, ten symbolizes the totality of the universe—both metaphysical and material—since it raises all things to unity.

From ancient oriental thought through the Pythagorean school and right up to St. Jerome, it was known as the number of perfection.

ELEVEN

Symbolic of transition, excess and peril and of conflict and martyrdom.

According to Schneider, there is an infernal character about it: since it is in excess of the number of perfection—ten—it therefore stands for incontinence; but at the same time it corresponds, like two, to the mandorla-shaped mountain, to the focal point of symbolic Inversion and antithesis, because it is made up of one plus one (comparable in a way with two).

TWELVE

Symbolic of cosmic order and salvation.

It corresponds to the number of the signs of the Zodiac, and is the basis of all dodecanary groups.

Linked to it are the notions of space and time, and the wheel or circle.

THIRTEEN

Symbolic of death and birth, of beginning afresh.

Hence it has unfavourable implications.

FOURTEEN

Stands for fusion and organization.

And for justice and temperance.

FIFTEEN

Markedly erotic.

Associated with the devil.

OTHER NUMBERS

Tarot

Each of the numbers from sixteen to twenty-two is related to the corresponding card of the Tarot pack; and sometimes the meaning is derived from the fusion of the symbols of the units composing it.

There are two ways in which this fusion may occur: either by mystic addition (for example, 374 = 3 + 7 + 4 = 14 = 1 + 4 = 5) or by succession, in which case the right-hand digit expresses the outcome of a situation denoted by the left-hand number (so 21 expresses the reduction of a conflict—two—to its solution—unity).

These numbers also possess certain meanings drawn from traditional sources and remote from their intrinsic symbolism:

24, for example, is the sacred number in Sankhya philosophy, and

50 is very common in Greek mythology—there were fifty Danaides, fifty Argonauts, fifty sons of Priam and of Aegyptus, for example as a symbol, we would suggest, of that powerful quality of the erotic and human which is so typical of Hellenic myths.

Repetition

The repetition of a given number stresses its quantitative power but detracts from its spiritual dignity.

So, for example, 666 was the number of the Beast because 6 was regarded as inferior to seven.

Contained within a multiple

When several kinds of symbolic meaning are contained within a multiple number, the symbolism of that number is accordingly enriched and strengthened.

Thus, 144 was considered very favourable because its sum was 9 (1 + 4 + 4) and because it comprises multiples of 10 and 4 plus the quaternary itself.

Lastly: Dante, in the Divine Comedy, has frequent recourse to the symbolism of numbers.

Sources: 1 2 3

More: On Symbolism

Hope this helps, would love to read your writing if it does!

[howtofightwrite]

Was reading through your torture tag and noticed a lot of stuff that was being said seemed to contradict things that were said on the scripttorture blog... do you have any suggestions on how to clear things up? Im not sure which things to trust

And you're asking us, because they've posted once in the last two years?

I'll admit, I have a fairly low opinion of them, and that's not directly their fault. For years, one of their fans, would regularly send some pretty incendiary asks our way. In fact, some of the less hostile ones were answered, and may be the posts you were looking at. Understandably, the ones simply accusing us of being torture apologists, demanding we redirect all our asks to their blog, or insisted that we should sit down and shut up, did not make the cut. With that in mind, please understand, I'm not going to go digging through their blog to refresh my memory, so some of this might be slightly skewed by the aforementioned deranged fan.

Look for the blog that does not constantly contradict or misrepresent their authoritative sources. Which is to say, if you actually pay attention to Shane O'Mara's work, it's basically what we've been saying all along.

If you're unfamiliar, O'Mara is a Neurologist who was (last I time I checked) working at Trinity College Dublin. He published a, frankly fascinating piece, called, Why Torture Doesn't Work, in which, he set about trying to answer why torture is an ineffective tool for intelligence gathering. O'Mara also had the misfortune of being the only expert who said anything close to the perspective Scripttorture wanted on torture.

An open secret about torture is that it is completely worthless for getting accurate information. This has been widely understood for centuries, if not millennia. O'Mara's question was, “why?”

It turns out, that the neurochemical trauma associated with torture, seriously interferes with your ability to accurately access information. For example: If you're being tortured, you can't tell your torturer where you planted the ticking bomb, because your brain literally can't access those memories.

Torture is evil. Yeah. No shit.

And, this is where ScriptTorture stops. “Torture is bad,” and Jack Bauer is an incredibly unrealistic fantasy, end of story.

Except, this is not the end of this.

Now, generally speaking, I don't blame anyone who wants to get off the ride here. Torture is an unpleasant subject, and wanting to stop at, “oh, it's evil,” is entirely reasonable... unless you want to write on the subject, or if you do political analysis and need to understand why people break out the torture implements.

More than that, this is where my academic background in political science actually comes into play. I'm not saying this as an Eagle Scout who had a couple overly enthusiastic hand to hand instructors when I was a kid. This is (part of) what I studied in college, and I have kept an eye on it since then.

If torture didn't work, you wouldn't see state-sponsored torture pop up repeatedly throughout history. It would not be one of the favorite tools of dictators and despots. However, because it does, and it is, simply saying, “it doesn't work,” isn't instructive or meaningful because it's clearly untrue. Someone is finding value in this, so it becomes important to understand what they are doing, and why they are doing it.

When you torture someone, the information they provide is basically madlibs of whatever leaked through their brain. They want the pain and stress to stop, and they'll say anything they can to make that happen. That often takes the form of what they think their torturer wants to hear. O'Mara's research does explain why they don't simply cough up the truth.

So, why do it?

Torture is a very labor intensive process. You (as an individual) can't, realistically, torture multiple victims at a time, and it is a very drawn out process. Some elements can be automated, your torturer doesn't need to be present at every moment, but they're going to spend hours, if not days, working on one victim. Worse, this is actually a technical profession. It's not like you can just pull in anyone off the street and get the results you want. (Though, technically, this doesn't seem to be as true, however, amateurs do have a shocking capacity to screw up torture. So, the point remains valid.)

The value of torture has almost nothing to do with the victim. It's about the message it sends to everyone else.

Torture is about mass coercion of the population. When you are the state (meaning, the government), and you torture someone, you are telling your citizens that you are willing to do the same to them, if they oppose you.

State-sponsored torture is specifically a tool to suppress political engagement. It is, quite literally, state-sponsored, domestic terrorism.

This even holds true in cases where the state employs torture to extract confessions from criminal suspects. The message sent into the general population is that dissent of any kind will not be tolerated, and that the state has the willingness and power to turn these tools on you if you draw their ire.

I get that this is outside of ScriptTorture's area of expertise, and in fairness, I probably would not have studied this with any intensity, if I hadn't taken multiple classes on revolutionary theory.

Torture from private organizations (which is to say, organized crime, and religious institutions, though cults and some other groups might fit this description as well), follows roughly similar patterns. These tend to do the same things, discouraging dissent, and establishing the organization as having power over the population (or community.) (The technical term would be to “establish capacity.” Which is to say, the organization's capacity to enforce its will. The same term applies to states, though in those cases, the state's capacity is often overestimated by its population. It's only when it starts to falter, for example through military defeats or serious civil unrest, that they really need the capacity boosting part of this equation.)

Zealotry or stupidity can create situations where you have a torturer (or, more likely, someone in a position of power ordering the torture) who believes that it is effectively compelling the truth from the victim. This (or amateurs) can easily lead into a distinct problem, which is that all of this has diminishing returns. Torture one person, and you send a loud, clear message. Torture ten, and all you've added to it is that you're willing to keep going. However, as you start stacking up the victims, you do start sending a new message to your enemies, that being, you're going to get to them sooner or later so it's in their best interest to respond now, mobilize and retaliate proactively, before you get to them. This means that a state which leans heavily on torture can easily instigate the civil unrest that exposes their limited capacity leading to a political death spiral. Alternately, if the state does have the capacity to put down the resulting unrest, it further reinforces their position (which does happen with depressing frequency in the real world.)

You're also going to create new enemies in the friends, family, and loved ones, of the people you tortured. This means that any organization that relies on extensive use of torture will, eventually, start tying a noose around its own neck. (Granted, there are a lot of social dynamics that I'm skimming over here, so it's not exactly as simple as “if the state tortures lots of people, it will result in increasing unrest.”)

If you want a partial citation for the above, you can (ironically) find it in a podcast interview with Shane O'Mara, when he explained why torture has been employed repeatedly through history. (Specifically I think it was episode 15 of Your Welcome, by Michael Malice. Though, I'm not 100% sure off hand.) Though that doesn't cover some of the more in depth elements I just discussed. Some of this is coming from a textbook on revolutionary theory I can't locate (it disappeared in a move a few years back.) Though that was more interested in the general structure of a state destabilizing into internecine conflict. Ironically, my preferred citation on torture, Fear up Harsh by Tony Lagouranis is mostly uninformative in this case, because his experiences were on the ground, rather than from a structural understanding of what his job was really doing. However, he does illustrate my comment about amateurs making even more of a mess, both through personal experiences with a few, and also through the eventual trajectory of the invasion and occupation of Iraq.

But of course, torture is evil... again, no shit. Was that really a question? And, I'm apparently a torture apologist for having a structural understanding of why evil people do evil things. Cool. Evil people don't do evil things because they're evil, they do them because they gain some tangible benefit from those acts, and they do not care about the consequences to anyone else. If you ask someone, “why do people do this?” and their answer is, “it's simple; they're evil,” that person is lying. They may be lying to themselves, but they are lying to you.

Why do people use torture? It's a lot more complicated, and unpleasant, than you'd expect at a simple overview.

-Starke

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[batbabydamian]

DC July 2024 Solicitations - Comics Featuring Damian! 🦇

BATMAN AND ROBIN #11

7/10/24

Written by Joshua Williamson

Art by Juan Ferreyra

Cover by Simone Di Meo

Variant Covers: Juan Ferreyra, Travis Mercer, Christian Ward (1:25)

Bruce and Damian plan the perfect father and son getaway…to DINOSAUR ISLAND?! When the dynamic duo uncovers a deadly family secret, their investigation takes them on a fun-filled adventure to rescue one of Batman’s greatest enemies!

THE BOY WONDER #3 of 5

7/3/24

Written by Juni Ba

Art and Cover by Juni Ba

Variant Cover: Khary Randolph

The cunning Tim Drake has always been the smartest of Batman’s sons…and the most comfortable matching wits with the most sinister geniuses on Earth. Damian Wayne doesn’t like feeling outsmarted—to him, no smugly-written insult could ever be sharper than his sword—so when he’s forced to infiltrate a super-villain gala alongside the sneaky Red Robin, the biggest danger the two of them face might not be Lex Luthor but Damian’s own temper!

*John Timms Variant Cover appearance(?) + potential cameo

ABSOLUTE POWER #1

7/3/24

Written by Mark Waid

Art and Cover by Dan Mora

DC’s epic summer event kicks off with a bang, as the combined might of FAILSAFE and the BRAINIAC QUEEN has at last given Amanda Waller the ability to steal the metahuman abilities of every hero and villain on planet Earth. As chaos erupts in the streets and a massive misinformation campaign sways public opinion to her side, the founder of the Suicide Squad methodically targets each superhero dynasty one at a time, starting with SUPERMAN. But even in this darkest of hours, a resistance is forming…and BATMAN is out for vengeance. It’s a shocking blitzkrieg across the globe that is decades in the making—and will shape the course of the DC Universe for years to come! Brought to you by the superstar talents of MARK WAID and DAN MORA—it all starts here!

*John Timms Variant Cover appearance(?)

ABSOLUTE POWER: TASK FORCE VII #1

7/10/24

Written by Leah William

Art by Caitlin Yarsky

SUPER NO MORE! With the assault on Metropolis’s heroes complete, Amanda Waller’s latest living weapon, the Last Son, sets his sights on the other most powerful supers in the DCU…the Marvel Family! Will their combined powers be enough to survive this terrifying threat? In this biweekly series we'll see the ABSOLUTE POWER event through the eyes of evil—as told from the point of view of the TRINITY OF EVIL!

*Rian Gonzales Variant Cover appearance

NIGHTWING #116

7/17/24

Written by Tom Taylor

Art and cover by Bruno Redondo

Everything Dick Grayson has built is crumbling around him. His life is spiraling out of control and Heartless is at the center of all of it. Now Nightwing must leave his city. Can he take back the power he’s lost? Or will Blϋdhaven and its citizens be lost to Heartless forever?

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Recs 77

This week's fic recs! :D

every cat has its day by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Batfam, wip. More shifter cat Bruce! This time, it's bath time for some of his shifter children. Shenanigans ensue.

Blood and Honey by RedFive - Superbat, wip. Mershark Bruce and his pod of killer whales are hunting yachts. Marine biologist Clark is there to investigate. Featuring my new favorite tag "Appetizer to Lovers."

Parts of a Whole by Anonymous - Superwonderbat, complete. Omegaverse Trinity with Dom Diana? Yes please.

misty by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Superbat, complete. Survival horror my B E L O V E D. Clark was extra creepy in this one, I loved it :D

A kindred bond by Nyszu @theocddiaries - Superbat, wip. I about shrieked when I saw this fic updated! It's more of the fic where Bruce gets kidnapped by evil Superman and rescued by his Superman. So much angst and hurt/comfort, I love it!

Smoke and Mirrors by Sunshineandmoonlight9 - Superbat, complete. Battinson and Cavil Superman team up!!!!!

it runs wide and it runs deep by Goldmonger - Superman & Batman, complete. Superman gets dosed with fear toxin, Batman is there to help.

Triple Chocolate Ice Cream by A_Hamilton - Superbat, complete. Clark is sad that his boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, flirted with Superman (never mind that he's Superman too), and stops talking to him. For some reason, Batman is upset with Superman now too. What's a guy to do? :(

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier @sig-nifier - Poolverine, complete. Part of the carmine and bumblebee series. Wade gets stuck in a time loop (kinda like the movie Edge of Tomorrow!) and tries to get unstuck while keeping Logan alive. It's a lot harder than you think.

Soft Kitty by pomegranatesushi - Poolverine, complete. Logan purrs. It's SUPER ADORABLE.

Home is a four-letter word and it's spelled W A D E series by Curupia @curupia - Poolverine, latest fic in series is wip. What happens after the world saving. Plenty of angst, lack of communication, and feels. So, my favorite :) The current fic being updated in this series is Logan being Domestic while Wade flirts at him (and breaks his brain). I've been enjoying the heck out of it.

i swore hands were made for fighting by WhatIsAir - Poolverine, complete. Logan and Wade are dating. No one told Logan this. Shenanigans ensue.

only you can me (scream and beg for more) by yellow_crayon @yellowwwcrayon - Poolverine, wip. An update to the Omegaverse Poolverine fic that I am absolutely in love with. The sass that Logan gives Tony in this fic is top tier, I was giggling so much.

Relationship Advice by fir_forest - Poolverine, wip. Wade needs some relationship advice, so he goes to the best possible place to find it: Reddit. Shenanigans ensue.

shattered glass by anarkissed @anarkissed-ao3 - Poolverine, complete. All the sex scenes, kissing, and general horniness the movie should have had :)

Men and their Problems series by capitalismwasamistake @capitalismwasamistake - Poolverine, complete. These two fics made me Unwell (affectionate), I will most likely reread them again this week. These fics convey how these characters have the most fucked up romance while being funny and cute and soft and sharp and freaky and I LOVED EVERY WORD OF THEM. I partially blame my love of this fic on the fact that my first fandom was Hannibal. Make sure to check the tags, both stories get a bit bloody :)

Happy reading!

[mastercrownmonday]

You know how everyone shows Magolor, Taranza, and Susie as besties?

Well do you think the Master Crown, Dimensional Mirror, and Star Dream would also be besties?

Ok this ask reminded me of a shitpost I've been meaning to make so let's get that out of the way:

You see, I always envisioned the Ultimate Evil Trio as Star Dream, Queen Sectonia, and Traitor Magolor. (I guess the Master Crown and Dimensional Mirror are technically along for the ride in this case?)

Anyways: you might be clairvoyant! I've been thinking A LOT about Star Dream in particular lately, including how it might feel about other Ancient Artifacts---like the Crown! (Note: okay the Star Dream brainrot is extremely obvious on my main account now but I swear that wasn't the case when I started writing this answer, ever so long ago. Lol)

I never considered a sentient Dimensional Mirror though... maybe someone else in the fandom has really juicy headcanons (feel free to share in the tags), but at the moment, I only have theories on its magic properties and relation to the magicians of the Mirror World. For example, I like to think that Simirror is from that world, and so they know a lot about the Dimensional Mirror.

As for the Master Crown and Star Dream: they would, theoretically, have a lot to commiserate about together, but I don't think they would actually get along. I won't reveal too much (since I'm still hoping to post some tangentially-related comics and stuffs in the future), but basically: their motivations and sympathies are completely different.

If we are going to make a trio of Ancient Artifacts/eldritch abominations from the distant 10s, I would make it the Crown, Void Termina, and Star Dream. (this way we can preserve the holy domesticated trinity of cat, dog, and bird)

PS: Since you mentioned it, I'll give a small disclaimer... I actually prefer grouping Magolor, Taranza, and Susie as a bestie quartet with Marx. He may not be a 2010s girlie, but I think he balances the rest of them out and makes the dynamic more fun :)

[talonabraxas]

“Like all magical mysteries, the secrets of the Great Work have a triple meaning: they are religious, philosophical and natural. Philosophical gold in religion is the Absolute and Supreme Reason; in philosophy, it is truth; in visible nature, it is the sun: in the subterranean and mineral world, it is the purest and most perfect gold. Hence the search after the Great Work is called the Search for the Absolute, and this work itself is termed the operation of the sun.” ― Éliphas Lévi, Transcendental Magic: Its Doctrine and Ritual

Eye in the Triangle Dale Keogh

Eliphas Levi: The Triangle of Solomon

The perfect word is the triad, because it supposes an intelligent principle, a speaking principle and a principle spoken. The Absolute, revealed by speech, endows this speech with a sense equivalent to itself, and in the understanding thereof creates its third self. So also the sun manifests by its light and proves or makes his manifestation efficacious by heat.

The triad is delineated in space by the heavenly zenith, the infinite height, connected with East and West by two straight diverging lines. With this visible triangle reason compares another which is invisible, but is assumed to be equal in dimension; the abyss is its apex and its reversed base is parallel to the horizontal line stretching from East to West. These two triangles, combined in a single figure, which is the six-pointed star, form the sacred symbol of Solomon’s Seal, the resplendent Star of the Macrocosm. The notion of the Infinite and the Absolute is expressed by this sign, which is the grand pantacle – that is to say, the most simple and complete abridgement of the science of all things.

Grammar itself attributes three persons to the verb. The first is that which speaks, the second that which is spoken to, and the third the object. In creating, the Infinite Prince speaks to Himself of Himself. Such is the explanation of the triad and the origin of the dogma of Trinity. The magical dogma is also one in three and three in one. That which is above is like or equal to that which is below. Thus, two things which resemble one another and the word which signifies their resemblance make three. The triad is the universal dogma. In Magic – principle, realization, adaptation; in Alchemy – azoth, incorporation, transmutation; in theology – God, incarnation, redemption; in the human soul – thought, love and action.

There are three intelligible worlds which correspond one with another by hierarchic analogy; the natural or physical, the spiritual or metaphysical, and the divine or religious worlds. From this principle follows the hierarchy of spirits, divided into three orders, and again subdivided by the triad in each of these.

All these revelations are logical deductions from the first mathematical notions of being and number. Unity must multiply itself in order to become active. An indivisible, motionless and sterile principle would be unity dead and incomprehensible. Were God only one He would never be Creator or Father. Were He two there would be antagonism or division in the infinite, which would mean the division also or death of all possible things. He is therefore three for the creation by Himself and in His image of the infinite multitude of beings and numbers. So is He truly one in Himself and triple in our conception, which also leads us to behold Him as triple in Himself and one in our intelligence. This is a mystery for the faithful and a logical necessity for the initiate into absolute and real sciences.

The Word manifested by life is realization or incarnation. The life of the Word accomplishing its cyclic movement is adaptation, or redemption. This triple dogma was known in all sanctuaries illuminated by the tradition of the Sages.

The primeval Sages, when seeking the First of Causes, behold good and evil in the world. They considered shadow and light; they compared winter with spring, age with youth, life with death, and their conclusion was this: The First Cause is beneficent and severe; It gives and takes away life. Then are there two contrary principles, the one good and the other evil, exclaimed the disciples of Manes. No, the two principles of universal equilibrium are not contrary, although contrasted in appearance, for a singular wisdom opposes one to another. Good is on the right, evil on the left; but the supreme excellence is above both, applying evil to the victory of good and good to the amendment of evil.

The principle of harmony is in unity, and it is this which imparts such power to the uneven number in Magic. Now, the most perfect of the odd numbers is three, because it is the trilogy of unity. In the trigrams of Fohi, the superior triad is composed of three YANG, or masculine figures, because nothing passive can be admitted into the idea of God, considered as the principle of production in the three worlds. For the same reason, the Christian Trinity by no means permits the personification of the mother, who is shown forth implicitly in that of the Son. Hence, in the trigrams of Fohi, the three inferior YIN correspond to the three superior YANG, for these trigrams constitute a pantacle like that of the two triangles of Solomon, but with a triadic interpretation of the six points of the blazing star.

Dogma is only divine inasmuch as it is truly human – that is to say, in so far as it sums up the highest reason of humanity. So also the Master, Whom we term the Man-God, called Himself the Son of Man. Revelation is the expression of belief accepted and formulated by universal reason in the human word, on which account it is said that the divinity is human and the humanity divine in the Man-God. Paracelsus and Agrippa did not set up altar against altar but bowed to the ruling religion of their time: to the elect of science, the things of science; to the faithful, the things of faith.

In his hymn to the royal Sun, the Emperor Julian gives a theory of the triad which is almost identical with that of the illuminated Swedenborg. The sun of the divine world is the infinite, spiritual and uncreated light, which is verbalized, so to speak, in the philosophical world, and becomes the fountain of souls and of truth: then it incorporates and becomes visible light in the sun of the third world, the central sun of our suns, of which the fixed stars are the ever-living sparks. The Kabalists compare the spirit to a substance which remains fluid in the divine medium and under the influence of the essential light, its exterior, however, becoming solidified, like wax when exposed to air, in the colder realm of reasoning or of visible forms. These shells, envelopes petrified or carnified, were such an expression possible, and the source of errors or of evil, which connects with the heaviness and hardness of animal envelopes. In the book Zohar, and in that of the Revolution of Souls, perverse spirits or evil demons are never called otherwise than shells – cortices. The cortices of the world or spirits are transparent, while those of the material world are opaque. Bodies are only temporary shells, whence souls have to be liberated; but those who in this life obey the flesh build up an interior body or fluidic shell, which, after death, becomes their prison-house and torment, until the time arrives when they succeed in dissolving it in the warmth of the divine light, towards which, however, the burden of their grossness hinders them from ascending. Indeed, they can do so only after infinite struggles, and by the mediation of the just, who stretch forth their hands towards them. During the whole period of the process they are devoured by the interior activity of the captive spirit, as in a burning furnace. Those who attain the pyre of expiation burn themselves thereon, like Hercules upon Mount Oetna, and so are delivered from their sufferings; but the courage of the majority fails before this ordeal, which seems to them a second death more appalling than the first, and so they remain in hell, which is rightly and actually eternal; but souls are never precipitated, nor even retained despite themselves therein.

The three worlds correspond together by means of the thirty-two paths of light, which are as steps of a sacred ladder. Every true thought corresponds to a Divine Grace in heaven and a good work on earth; every Grace of God manifests a truth, and produces one or many acts; reciprocally, every act affects a truth of falsehood in the heavens, a grace or a punishment. When a man pronounces the Tetragram – say the Kabalists – the nine celestial realms sustain a shock, and then all spirits cry out one upon another: ‘Who is it thus disturbing the kingdom of heaven?’ Then does the earth communicate unto the first sphere the sins of that rash being who takes the Eternal Name in vain, and the accusing word is transmitted from circle to circle, from star to star, and from hierarchy to hierarchy.

Every utterance possesses three senses, every act has a triple range, every form a triple idea, for the Absolute corresponds from world to world by its forms. Every determination of human will modifies Nature, concerns philosophy and is written in heaven. There are consequently two fatalities, one resulting from the Uncreated Will in harmony with its proper wisdom, the other from created wills in accordance with the necessity of secondary causes in their correspondence with the First Cause. There is hence nothing indifferent in life, and our seeming most simple resolutions do often determine an incalculable series of benefits or evils, above all in the affinities of our DIAPHANE with the Great Magical Agent, as we shall explain elsewhere.

The triad, being the fundamental principle of the whole Kabalah, or Sacred Tradition of our fathers, was necessarily the fundamental dogma of Christianity, the apparent dualism of which it explains by the intervention of a harmonious and all-powerful unity. So is the Apocalypse the book of the Gnosis or Secret Doctrine of the first Christians.

‘The sacred word MALKUTH substituted for KETHER, which is its kabalistic correspondent, and the equipoise of GEBURAH and CHESED, repeating itself in the circles of heavens called eons by the Gnostics, provided the keystone of the whole Christian Temple in the occult versicle.

MALKUTH, based upon GEBURAH and CHESED, is the Temple of Solomon having JAKIN and BOAZ for its Pillars; it is Adamite dogma, founded, for the one part on the resignation of Abel and, for the other, on the labours and self reproach of Cain; it is the equilibrium of being established on necessity and liberty, stability and motion; it is the demonstration of the universal lever sought in vain by Archimedes. A scholar whose talents were employed in the culture of obscurity, who died without seeking to be understood, resolved this supreme equation, discovered by him in the Kabalah, and was in dread of its source transpiring if he expressed himself more clearly. We have seen one of his disciples and admirers most indignant, perhaps in good faith, at the suggestion that his master was a Kabalist; but we can state notwithstanding, to the glory of the same learned man, that his researches have shortened appreciably our work on the occult sciences, and that the key of the transcendent Kabalah above all, indicated in the arcane versicle cited above, has been applied skillfully to an absolute reform of all sciences in the books of Hoene Wronski.

The secret virtue of the gospels is therefore contained in three words, and these three words have established three dogmas and three hierarchies. All science reposes upon three principles, as the syllogism upon three terms. There are also three distinct classes, or three original and natural ranks, among men, who are called to advance from the lower to the higher. The Jews term these three series or degrees in the progress of spirits, ASSIAH, YETZIRAH and BRIAH. The Gnostics, who were Christian Kabalists, called them HYLE, PSYCHE and GNOSIS; by the Jews the supreme circle was named ATZILUTH, and by the Gnostics PLEROMA. In the Tetragram, the triad, taken at the beginning of the word, expresses the divine copulation; taken at the end, it expressed the female and maternity.

Tetractys. The Tetractys (also known as the Decad) is an equilateral Triangle formed from the sequence of the first ten numbers aligned in four rows. It is both a Mathematical idea and a Metaphysical Symbol that embraces within itself - in Seedlike form - the Principles of the Natural World, the Harmony of the Cosmos, the Ascent to the Divine, and the Mysteries of the Divine Realm. So revered was this Ancient Symbol that it inspired Ancient Philosophers to swear by the name of the one who brought this gift to Humanity --Pythagoras.

[lizardsfromspace]

The ending of The Matrix: Neo is killed by Agent Smith, but Trinity telling him of her love & revealing what the Oracle saw for her not only revives him, but causes him to finally accept that he is the One. Using his newfound mastery over the Matrix, he destroys Smith effortlessly. Later, he tells the Machines he's going to liberate the Matrix, before flying away, revealing how far his powers have come, until they made sequels and retconned that those were the two things he could do bc otherwise fights would be too easy

The ending of The Third Eye, by Sophia Stewart, which The Matrix stole from directly: I-Khan flies his space pyramid to the planet where the pyramid energies of the Third Eye are found. If his heart is impure, even his powerful hybrid body can't stand up to the Eye. They land on an alien planet, where all of his followers are vaporized horribly by a golden light, (continued)

the Third Eye vaporizes I-Khan's clothes, because he needs to gain the power naked, which lets golden light destroy his human side and he is reborn, which revives all of his followers who just died in a mass cult suicide in his name, while his blindness is instantly cured by his eyes becoming golden lights, (continued)

and his followers are now an immortal Superrace that will follow his whims eternally, a power he uses to return to Earth and defeat the evil Rothfeller bankers who control the Earth in a completely undescribed final battle,(continued)

and the actual end of this proposed sci-fi blockbuster is a bunch of rambling about how the Energies of the Universe have shifted, Bible quote, CGI pyramid ship render, the end

...just like The Matrix! Bring it to court babes!!!

Love how the overtly Christian movie is the one that adds the deeply weird detail that their Jesus-allegory gains his powers from the deaths of his disciples. How did studios possibly reject a pitch for The Next Star Wars that ended in mass suicide and extended nude scenes but did not include any big space battles

[ahopefulbromantic]

I was thinking about the great flood in Genesis. And suddenly I thought:

What if all the waters of the flood were His tears?

"They're hurting..." God said to Himself. "I wanted them to be so happy, but they're hurting each other... Destroying themselves! Every day they cry out to me, beging for this torment to stop... There's too much pain, too much suffering, My Son, they cannot take it anymore, I cannot take it anymore!..."

Humans were made in the image of God. For example, like God they would weep when they saw evil and injustice. Like God's, their eyes would well up with tears that streamed down their faces. Like God's, their hearts would break.

God's face became grim. "I regret creating them."

"But..." it softened at once, "I can't just destroy them, I-I can't, I love them! Oh, Noah! My dear Noah, he's good, he, he doesn't deserve to die! We can't have him die...!"

"We won't."

God decided to talk with Noah. He told him how to build an ark, down to the exact measurements that would surely save him. And Noah did all that the Lord commanded him.

It didn't completely soothe the heaviness in God's holy heart. It didn't stop His eyes from stinging, His chin from shaking. But at least His Noah would be safe, and that's what mattered.

After many years of trying to keep it together, of silent, secret goodbyes, the ark was finished.

"Dad..." the Word approached His Father, as tearful as Him. "It's okay, You won't hurt them. You don't have to hold back anymore. You can let it out now."

And God began to cry.

All the fountains of the great deep were broken up. He cried for 40 days and 40 nights. He cried with the whole Trinity. He cried with all the tears of those who were hurt by the evil in the world. He wailed and weeped with grief as His tears flooded the whole Earth.

Every living substance was destroyed which was upon the face of the ground.

Only Noah remained alive, and they that were with him in the ark.

[theofreakingbell]

LWML fans who saw my other post, I GOT THE BOOK

it is in shockingly good shape for being so old. the pages feel sturdier than some modern paperbacks. It belonged to someone named Mildred in 1893 (inscrbed). thanks for the book, ma'am.  

it also has a sticker indicating it was sold in Australia at some point before ending up back in England (and then on to me in California)

my theory was partly right and partly not. While the book is deeply mistaken about many things it was actually very mixed about Loki, there is no one central page calling him evil. I find it super interesting they chose to include the Loka Tattur, a Faroese story where he is very kind, and theorise about why he may have been seen differently over time. there IS one page that makes him sound like a ticking time bomb though which I have included below as I think it resembles the book the most, in addition to a few other interesting sections about Loki that I found in the book, true or not. 

there's random lil illunstrations of birds and stuff throughout to decorate the pages it's adorable. illustrations in general are very cool, however this is not a good norse mythos book overall and author is WAY too happy veering into race science at random and using the word Aryan and stuff, so please do not use this book as a source. lol

EXCERPTS AND IMAGES BELOW

From the gods profiles section

Loki, the father of terrible Hel, the Fenris-Wolf and Midgard-Snake; Loki, the crafty god who is ever devising evil, now steals forward that we may observe his corrupt practices and his real character. In primeval times he was Odin's brother by blood, the god of life-giving warmth, and in particular of the indispensable household fire. As a destructive conflagration arises from a hidden spark which gradually increases in strength and volume, until at last it bursts out furiously and consumes the house and all that it contains, thus, as we shall show later on, the conception of Loki was developed in the minds of these old races, until he was at last held to be the corrupter of the gods, the principle of evil."

From a section on the different mythological races

"The first divine trilogy given us was that of the sons of Bör, ie.

Odin, Wili and We; and these correspond to the elements, air, water and fire. The last of the three gave the newly created human beings blood and blooming complexion; he was therefore a beneficent god. Nevertheless he was also represented as a giant in the trilogy Kari, Ögir, and Logi, another form of air, sea and fire. That he belonged to the race of giants is proved from further evidence, by which it appears that his father was the giant Far-bauti (oarsman), and his mother the giantess Laufey (leafy isle), the former of whom was perhaps the giant who saved himself from the flood in a boat, and the latter, the island to which he rowed.

At the beginning Loki was a helpful and a great god, as the pretty Faroe-island song of the Peasant and the Giant shows. He was not regarded as the principle of evil, until he had been completely separated from the element to which he belonged, and had been developed into an independent personality. The idea of the destructive power of fire was equally connected with the giant Muspel, but he never showed himself as an active agent of harm.

His sons, the flames, alone threatened evil in Glow-heim or Muspel-heim, and finally mustered in great force for the Last Battle on the field of Wigrid."

Musings and biography after the Loka Tattur

"The above story is still told on the Faroe Islands, and in fuller detail than we have been enabled to give it. It shows us an important fact, that Loki was not always looked upon as the principle of evil, as the enemy of gods and men.

Originally he was the god of the indispensable household fire, the god of the beneficent, kindly hearth; therefore he regularly appears in the trinity: thus the sons of the primeval giant Ymir were called Kari (air), Ogir or Her (water), and Logi (fire); and similarly on the creation of mankind the trinity appears, Odin, Hönir and Lodur. Loki also accompanied Odin and Hönir on their travels to the giant Thiassi.

The father of Loki was Farbauti and his mother was Laufey (leafy isle). The former was probably the same as Bergel-mir, the giant who escaped drowning in the Deluge by taking refuge in a boat, as another name for his mother was Nal, ship. Logi, the element of fire, was distinctly separated from Loki, for we saw that when in the balls of Skyrnir or Utgard Loki, the two were rivals in a wager as to which could consume the greater quantity of food in a given time. At first Loki was held in high honour as the giver of warmth and god of the domestic hearth, and was looked upon as the brother of Odin and Hönir, for the elements air, water and fire are intimately connected. He therefore belonged to the Ases, sat in their council, and often helped them out of difficulties by means of his cunning. As fire is not always the friend of man, but is also the element of destruction, the Loki of the myth developed ever more and more the dark side of his character. He showed himself as a cunning adviser, a false, traitorous comrade, and lastly as the murderer of all that was pure and holy. He destroyed innocence and righteousness, became the blasphemer of the Ases or their evil conscience; and although he received immediate punishment for his wickedness, he yet succeeded in bringing about the universal destruction.

The name Loki has been derived from the old word "liuhan," to enlighten. It therefore has the same origin as the Latin lux, light. Thus he was also related to Lucifer (light-bringer), a title of honour which was given to the Prince of Darkness. In like manner as the northern tempter was chained to a sharp rock, Lucifer was believed in the middle ages to be chained down in hell. Saxo Grammaticus describes his Utgarthlocus (Utgard-Loki as laden with chains in Helheim, which proves that the myth of Loki and his punishment was believed long after the Christian era.

As has been said before, Loki had three wicked children by the giantess Angurboda (bringer of anguish), Fenris, Hel and Jörmungander. But he also had a lawful wife, the faithful Sigyn, who brought him two sons, Wali and Narwi, and who remained with him during all the misery his punishment brought upon him. He had no servants or subjects, for the Salamanders or Fire-spirits which played a part in Roman and Oriental mythology were unknown in the north. But he had other mighty relations, namely Surtur of the Flaming Sword and the sons of Muspel, who helped him in the Last Battle when he had got rid of his bonds. The Dwarfs and Black-Elves that needed fire for their labours were in alliance with him, but were not subservient to him; indeed, as we have already seen, they were often his enemies.

Apologies for any errors, I am very sensorily disabled and was unable to read the book in full or take more pictures. But yeah here is a book that would have existed for Theo and Loki to read!

(the entire book is also available for free as a pdf if u want to look at it on archive.org here. again, do not use as a source lol given the problems but it was fun to look at)

[aahanna]

The Story of Solah Shringar

The Indian bride is the epitome of grace, elegance, and beauty. Her attire and traditional Indian bridal jewelry catch every eye and leave a lasting impression on everyone. While her wedding outfit accentuates her best features, her Indian bridal jewelry adds a subtle shine and a touch of sophistication to her entire look.

As per tradition, the Indian bride embellishes herself with 16 adornments on her wedding day. These adornments are called Solah Shringar. This ritual has been practiced since ancient times and is an integral part of bridal preparations.

The story behind the Solah Shringar features Rati, the wife of Kamdev, the Hindu god of love. Rati engaged in severe penance to appease Goddess Lakshmi. She was then blessed with the 16 adornments from Lakshmi and wore them to impress and marry Kamdev.

16 adornments (16 sringar)are

1. Sindoor

The first adornment is Sindoor, also known as kumkum or vermillion. Sindoor holds a special place as it marks the beginning of a woman’s new journey as a bride. Sindoor is applied by the groom on the forehead between the hair partition of the bride. The bride then continues to wear sindoor throughout her married life.

2. Hair care (Kesh Sringar):

We now focus on the ‘Kesh’, or hair. The Indian bride embellishes her hair using fragrant flowers and glittering headpieces. Traditionally, the bride made three braids that represented three holy rivers, Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswati, and the trinity of the Hindu gods Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahesh. The fragrance of flowers keeps the bride fresh throughout the day and her Indian bridal jewelry embellishes her hairdo, adding another layer of elegance and beauty to her overall look.

3. Maangtika

The part of the forehead where the maangtika rests is believed to be the home of Ajna Chakra or the third eye. When the bride wears the piece of Indian bridal jewelry on her special day, she is believed to be connected with her third eye and has the ability to control her emotions and activate her knowledge, wisdom, courage, and willpower.

4. Bindi

The bindi also takes us to the third eye. Bindi comes from the Sanskrit word bindu, which means ‘point’ or ‘dot’. The bindi is closely associated with improving concentration and retaining energy. It is one of the most popular adornments worn by the Indian bride and is known internationally.

5.Kohl or Kajal

From the forehead, we move to the eyes. Kohl, kajal, surma, kanmashi, kaadige, kaatuka, and kan mai are some names for one of the oldest natural beauty products in the world. Kajal accentuates the eyes of the bride and is believed to ward off the evil eye in various cultures. The darkening around the eyes also protects the wearer from the harsh rays of the sun.

Kajal is an essential element of the solah shringar and makes the eyes look more prominent. It is undoubtedly a beautiful way to enhance the natural beauty of the bride.

6 .Karn Phool or Earrings

A wedding day look cannot be completed without a set of dangling earrings. Karn Phool is a Sanskrit term that translates to ‘flower of the ears’ and is an essential part of the solah shringar.

7 .Nath(nose ring)

The nose ring is another beautiful element of the Indian bride’s attire and is a symbol of valor, fertility, and spirituality. The large nose rings hooked onto the hair with a chain take the bride a step closer to creating her ideal look. It is one of the most ethnic elements of Indian bridal jewelry and a wedding day look is surely incomplete without it.

8 .Haar or Necklace

The one thing that brings the whole look together is the necklace. Necklaces are said to represent safety and abundance and are believed to help the wearer control their emotions better. Some necklaces feature specific motifs or gemstones that are believed to bring good luck and ward off evil spirits.

9 .Bajuband

This element of traditional Indian bridal jewelry is worn on the upper arm. The bajuband is believed to keep evil spirits away and protects the wearer. The Indian bride can embellish her wedding outfit with all sorts of armbands that are encrusted with diamonds and other colorful gemstones.

10 .Bangles, Bracelets, Choodiyan

Bangles and the Indian bride are inseparable. They’re a part of traditional Indian bridal jewelry that a woman always wears. It is believed that bangles and bracelets bring health, luck, and prosperity to the wearer and are more than a jewelry item or accessory for the traditional Indian woman. There are various wedding ceremonies related to bangles and bracelets across cultures that show us their significance in Indian culture.

11 .Hathphool and Aarsi

The hathphool is a clever mix of a bangle and a ring. Bringing the best of both together, this element of traditional Indian bridal jewelry embellishes the hand and wrist of the bride. The interesting crossover of the two pieces surely adds more flavor to the wedding day look.

A thumb ring known as Aarsi is also worn by some brides. Aarsi contains a small mirror. This mirror allows the bride to catch a glimpse of the groom since she is covered in a veil and cannot see the groom’s face.

12 . Mehndi

Henna, commonly known as mehndi, is undoubtedly one of the most amusing parts of a traditional Indian wedding. It is believed that mehndi brings good luck and joy to the bride. The darkness of the mehndi represents the strength of the bond between the bride and the groom. The solah shringar of the bride is incomplete without her hands and feet embellished with beautiful mehndi designs that add to her overall wedding day look.

13 . Kamarband (waist band)

The use of the kamarband, or waistband, is scarce in North Indian weddings but it is an important part of a South Indian bride’s trousseau. The piece of Indian bridal jewelry is adorned with gemstones and is used to accentuate the female’s body and keep her bridal saree in place.

14 . Anklets and Toe Rings

Commonly known as payal and bichhu, these elements of traditional Indian bridal jewelry embellish the feet of the bride. Payals can be recognized by the beautiful chime sounds they make whenever the bride walks. Toe rings are seen as a sign of marriage and a bride wears them until the death of her husband.

15 . Itar

Itar is the perfume that a bride applies to freshen her aura and stay fragrant throughout her special day.

16. Wedding Outfit

Finally, the one thing that clubs every element together and brings the bride’s imagination to life is the wedding outfit. The traditional Indian bride wore the classic red wedding outfit but with the evolution of Indian weddings, other colors have started to take center stage as well.

Source

[butcherlarry]

hello! I got your blog recommended to me by frownyalfred when I asked for whump bruce recs, and I have already put sooo many of your recs in my "to read" list, they all look so good! That poly lois/clark/bruce one especially!!

If you ever feel like it, could I humbly request a bruce whump rec?

It's your lucky day Anon! You ask is my weekly fic rec list! Everyone clap for Anon!

Weekly Fic Recs 79

I've had an ask before wanting some Bruce centric fics, here is a link for you! Some are angst-y with a bit of whump, but let's see what else I can find for you ;)

A Bat with a Broken Wing by agoldengalaxy @agoldengalaxy - Battinson, General, 3048 words, complete. Battinson gets injured and Jim helps him find medical attention. For some reason, Batman want Jim to take him to Wayne manor. Weird.

A Sacrifice Love Demands by second_hand_heaven @second-hand-heaven - Trinity, General, 1453 words, complete. Bruce gets hit with fear gas. Good thing Clark and Diana are there to help.

A kindred bond by Nyszu @theocddiaries - Superbat, Mature, 76,971 words, wip. Bruce gets kidnapped by an evil Superman from another universe. He Does Not Have A Good Time. Bruce's Clark (and Justice League) save him, but struggles with his mental health after.

The Xenomorality Hypothesis, Revisited by MaskoftheRay @ray-gurl - Superbat, Teen, 4508 words, complete. A different first meeting of Batman and Superman in BvS: Dawn of Justice.

control by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Bruce & Clark, Not Rated, 2008 words, complete. Bruce gets roofied, Clark is there to help.

pull out the pin by TheResurrectionist - Superbat, Not Rated, 4488 words, complete. The Justice League get stranded on a supposedly empty planet. Bruce gets possessed. Shenanigans and feels ensue.

Bruce Wayne and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Sleepyhollow_101 - Superbat, General, 4104 words, complete. Bruce as a civilian gets kidnapped and Has A Bad Time. Clark is there to the rescue.

Worth It by Noknownname @allgremlinart - Superbat, Not Rated, 845 words, complete. Battinson falls into Gotham Bay. Clark helps warm him up.

Bruce Wayne Being a Good Dad (Bonus Whump) by WhumpTown - Batfam, General, 4170 words, fics complete, series not. Bruce gets injured while Batmanning. His kids are there to help while he recovers.

Monday, You Can Fall Apart (It's Friday, I'm in Love) by BatsAreFluffy @silivren-vera - Superbat, Teen, 6487 words, complete. Four times where Bruce gets injured and is Not Having A Good Time. Good thing Clark is there to help. Very whumpy, very hurt/comfort, a favorite reread of mine :)

Tropical Vacation (Sun, Sand, Sea, and Superman) by cattyk8 @cattyk8fic - Superbat, Mature, 12,279 words, complete. Three times Bruce is forced to take a vacation because of his injuries, and one time he goes on vacation on purpose (with Clark).

Maybe You'll Learn to Live with What's Inside Your Head by not_whelmed_yet @notwhelmedyet - Batcat, Teen, 8410 works, complete. Hey, remember how in the The Batman movie, Battinson at shit after trying to use his wingsuit to escape from the top of GCPD building? Or when he got shot in the chest point blank with a shotgun? Or when he cut that live wire and fell into the water below? And then just got back up and did some rescue work like he was fine and nothing was wrong, no bodily injuries to worry about, at all? Well, this author remembered and wrote a fantastic fic about him dealing with all those injuries in the aftermath. Don't worry, Selina is there to help :)

Happy Reading!