#rain world stars in the sea

[fortunatelyperfectcreator]

[whereipostnotes]

How do I tell people that I love solitude but I also want to explore the world with a group of people, I love solitude but I also want to enjoy the campfires, I love solitude but I also want to travel the world with my loved ones.

The rain comforts me, the cool breeze, the noisy calmness and the water drops falling on me but I also want to cherish the warmth and beauty of the sunrise.

That I'm talkative around my people and kind hearted ones but immensely quiet around others.

How can I tell you that I love to see the stary nights but I also love to see the bright blue skies.

How do I explain that my heart lives between calmness of a quiet sky and the chaos of a stormy sea?

[dragonpropaganda]

something I love about rain world lore is that it gestures towards the sky being solid like two times and doesn't elaborate at all

[rainworldhourly]

[windtooth-plane]

{Hey there!}

{I'll just get right into the rules and notes. Below said rules and notes will be lore, extra stuff and reference sheets.}

{1. Uploading may vary from time to time as my motivation is rather silly if you want to put it that way. Please do not expect updates in small periods of time, and please do not pressure me to upload anything.}

{2. This blog is run by @nixii-sabre , however, multiple other characters belong to @chaoticgoober and chickenboi on discord- and non-frequently a few other folk. If you have any technical questions or other questions feel free to ask me.}

{3. Suggestiveness is occasionally allowed, however please do not overdo it. No complete NSFW. Most heavier suggestive asks will be deleted or answered if the ask belongs to one of my closer friends who actually know the lore as well as various other inside jokes.}

{4. If your question specifically takes place at a different time of the story, please say if it does. If you don't say, I will immediately assume where it is in the timeline.}

{5. Please do not antagonize me or other askers. Anonymous is always allowed however please do not send any negative stuff or hate.}

{6. Some asks will be answered with simple text, some drawings or doodles here and there, or sometimes full illustrations and/or comics. Please do not expect absolute top-notch with every ask.}

{7. Fanart and giftart is completely always allowed. If you can. @ me (the moderator) whenever you make it! I'd love to see it. However please do not claim any of the characters here as yours, do not copy designs or trace any artwork shone. Just simple art rules n' stuff.}

{And finally, for lore and reference sheets, read under the cut!}

Endless Moving Nights He/They 3rd Gen Endless Moving Nights is usually referred to as "Nights" or more commonly "Endless" as for short. He majors in Biological mechanics and his facility status is currently collapsed after Hidden Niche of Pearls sent a large squad of scavengers and used highly reactive explosives. Before the collapse, Endless had severe insomnia and tended to stay up late into the cycle to work on finding the solution to The Great Problem. He (somewhat) found the solution to, but it was far too dangerous without testing. He had contacted his friend, Witch of Twin Stars to test it out for him- as it was technically a way to save her from the immense rot in her superstructure. She was dying, and what Endless was offering was a body switch into a slugcat subspecies. The subspecies being the only bipedal smart enough in Endless' facility that could be rewired to comprehend the ability to bodyswitch- Bottomfeeders. He sent one of his Bottomfeeders to Witch's can- in which Witch enacted on the instructions Endless had given to her. It was a success, however due to the 'solution' being far too close to being against the self-destruct taboo itself- they both kept it a secret. One of Endless' personal logs stored in a data pearl was 'accidentally' delivered to Hidden Niche of pearls- the iterator being extremely lawful. After the collapse, Endless' half-dead puppet was brought to Pines' can where he was hooked up to an emergency port for an umbilical.

Clock of the North She/Her 3rd Gen Clock of the North- formally known as Clock that Forever Points to the Northern Sky or a simpler short name just being Clock. She used to frequently learn more and more about botany and alchemy- however one time, her potion created The Rot in her superstructure. It spread, and she eventually soon collapsed. The rot had gotten partially cleaned up by a squad of slugcats sent by Green Pines, however, when Clock was kidnapped it simply invited itself back in. A large prehistoric slugcat named Memory had taken Clock to an iterator's facility from another local group, which has since been resolved. She was taken to Pines' can for a short amount of time before deciding to leave to beeline from there, to Chime's can, to her own can to finally get back to. She's close friends with Emerald Leaves of the Pines and Endless Moving Nights.

One Last Chime He/They 2nd Gen One Last Chime, commonly known as Chime or Chimes. One Last Chime is best friends with Endless Moving Nights, WAS friends with Howling Winds over Bronze Seas, and is either neutral to everybody else or hates everybody else. Ever since Clock of the North was created, it was rather obvious Chime had a big fat crush on her. He talked to her almost every cycle trying to engage her in conversation, frequently showing that he cared about her and just liked talking to her in general. That was until he accused Pines of simply wanting to use clock and claiming he was untrustworthy- and also accidentally slipped out that he loved her. Clock cut off all communication with him for many cycles. They only started talking again- just as friends- when Clock was transported to Pines' can. Chime still has often arguments with Pines, however, he is beginning to become good friends nowadays. Chime is now beginning to realize he has a crush on Endless now which is gonna end fine and dandy! (it's not)

Hidden Niche of Pearls She/They 2nd Gen Hidden Niche of Pearls- normally known as Pearls or more commonly as Niche. Niche is an extremely lawful neutral iterator with a high sense of regal and betterness. She understands her place in situations, however enjoys being formal- especially with other iterators. Niche likes to indulge in cultural study from the ancients to her own scavenger colony. Her colony of scavengers respect her and see her as their caretaker and leader, however, there's one particular scavenger- Cookie- she has a direct bond with. Cookie is a young scavenger working to become an elite with her siblings Sylvester and Natalie, and she occasionally pays Niche a visit. They'll talk a lot and Niche lets her guard down whenever with the little scavenger. She feels like a mother figure to Cookie, and Cookie feels like a child figure to Niche. Pearls is slightly antisocial as she would rather spend her time studying or talking to Cookie- and she also has mild paranoia due to a certain fallacy from another iterator which had lead to her breaking her morals.

Emerald Leaves of the Pines He/Him 2nd Gen Emerald Leaves of the Pines- almost always referred to as Pines. Pines is an authoritive yet layed back iterator with a set of his own code and morals. He frequently got into heavy arguments with the iterator Howling Winds over Bronze Seas- one day Winds sent him a file that was supposed to help him find the solution. Pines was grateful but suspicious of the hospitality- and rightfully so. The file contracted rot that quickly spread through Pines' superstructure. He was silent for a long time, however in that time had been readying a slugcat colony. The slugcats had cleared out almost all of his rot, and 40-50 of them had been sent to take out Winds for what he had done. Only one of them came back alive, however the mission was successful. After word was out that Pines had murdered Winds, most iterators banned him from chats and/or simply resented him. However Clock of the North believed his intentions were good. She didn't have a good relationship with Winds either, as he tended to be rather hostile. Later on in time, Pines began to rebuild his reputation back up and became friends with most iterators in his local group. He cares dearly for his colony of slugcats and hopes for them to continue advancing without the constant threat of rain above the clouds on his superstructure.

Witch of Twin Stars He/Her 2nd Gen Witch of Twin Stars- the slugcat now encompanying her puppet is referred to as Kasume, however the iterator who body switched with the slugcat is simply reffered to as The Witch or just Witch. After being body switched, Witch set off to head to the Void Sea where she would then attempt to ascend and see if the solution was truly plausible. Along the way, she met a fluffy yellow slugcat named Sunny- and the pup they took care of, Junior. While travelling, Witch had not told Sunny about her intentions, nor was she sure if the slugcat friend could comprehend it. She began growing a close bond with Sunny, and when it came time to dip into the void sea, she came back up. She couldn't do it. She couldn't leave what she had behind. She headed to Endless' can without telling Sunny or Junior where she was going only to find he had since collapsed. Witch found a pup of her own that she treats as her son- Smoky. They have since been living in Pines' colony.

Karmic Obnoxious Inaccuracy She/It 1st Gen Karmic Obnoxious Inaccuracy, almost always referred to as Koi. She isn't technically a part of Windtooth Plane as she's a bit farther away with no local group of her own, though was originally created to be a part of it. She has no communications with the local group, however she does have communications (occasionally) with her brother Endless. Her facility is submerged underwater, so her arrays and different parts of the superstructure constantly get flooded- making communications somewhat unreliable a lot of the time. She's a bit of an aggressively caring iterator with a strong protectiveness over her brother. She doesn't talk to many other people, however, she has had a word or two with One Last Chime.

Howling Winds over Bronze Seas He/Him 2nd Gen Howling Winds over Bronze Seas, sometimes referred to as just Winds. Winds is a highly 'lawful' iterator who frequently antagonizes most others. Despite having administrator privileges before he was murdered, he worked in illegal arsenal manufacturing- weaponry, essentially. Most iterators were neutral toward him, however he had a personal vendetta against Emerald Leaves of the Pines. The only two people he conversed with as friends were Endless Moving Nights and One Last Chime, however Chime moreso tolerated him than not.

(FYI, the second and third image are NOT alternate outfits. The second one is what's underneath the cloak.)

Angel of Dominance She/Her 3rd Gen An iterator who was kidnapped by an iterator of her own local group. She had many experiments done on her and eventually was found dead by Pines' slugcats. She was brought to the facility and temporarily revived but due to a large surgical cut from her hips to her chest, she was in constant pain. The temporary revival was taken away as they did not have the resources to keep her puppet maintained. Eventually, her puppet was rehooked up to the structure when Endless effectively left. She hopes to one day go back to her can in Loveless Meije, however with it being left unattended for some time there's a chance it'll collapse soon.

OTHER ITERATORS

Eight Islands Under Storm Clouds He/Him 2nd Gen An iterator in Windtooth Plane who's extremely antisocial. They haven't said a word to the local group other than Niche. He was created for the purpose of making explosives.

Two Rocks Eroding He/Him 2nd Gen Another iterator who's not necessarily in Windtooth plane, but is in the area. They haven't spoken to anybody.

Pristine Snow, Twisted Mountains She/They 2nd Gen An iterator who was previously conceived as dead from a power surge. Their facility was built on top of a snowy mountain that has heavy snowfalls. They have spoken to the local group a few times here or there but has mostly talked to Emerald Leaves of the Pines. Their 'death' was soon discovered as faked. She has broken many taboos- almost all of them, to be exact.

Misguided Information Any/All 3rd Gen INFORMATION CLASSIFIED

{ Clock of the North and One Last Chime both belong to @chaoticgoober . Emerald Leaves of the Pines, Howling Winds over Bronze Seas and Pristine Snow, Twisted Mountains all belong to chickenboi on discord. Two Rocks Eroding belongs to King STAZE on all platforms (mostly). Eight Islands Under Storm Clouds belongs to my brother, SomethingUnusual (on all platforms). Everyone else belongs to me. }

[ask-pakistan]

OP How has Umer been as of recent? We send our sincerest regards of concerns to you both.

He has become a firm believer of sleeping your problems off. "Everything's fine", he says as he laughs a little too hard. Domestic Pakistani politics have been a joke recently =_= and it doesn't help that climate change has begun to rear its ugly head in Pakistan :( , This last year has been particularly tough and unkind to Pakistanis. Inflation in particular, has me seeing tears :') I've gotten plenty of asks in the last few months asking if Umer and Mun were okay and I'm fine! Thank you so much for asking! To all the people who dropped by to check up on how i was doing, i appreciate your concerns a lot and you've got no idea how touched i was while reading those. <3

[FUNFACT]: "Khes" is the name of the thin cotton blanket that's wrapped around Umer. It's a piece of textile that derives its origin from Rural Punjab :D

[of-the-stars-and-the-sea]

Darkness of a Secret World

Hey.

It's been a long time, hasn't it? I'm going to guess you weren't expecting to hear from me. It's a rare day when the dead come back to life, after all.

I let you dig my grave, firefly. Some of it's hard to remember, but even now, I can picture the way you crumbled as you buried me deep into the ground. Your face, tear-stricken. Your hands, nerve-wracked. You can't hide anything from your eyes, you know. Your eyes are like windows. And on that day, I've never seen something more haunted.

To tell you the truth, firefly, I've written this message to you nearly a million times. I've written in my head from limbo. I wrote it aloud to the starless sky as I crossed the desolate landscape. I've traced it over and over onto paper until it disintegrated into scrap. I should’ve said something far sooner than now, but no matter how many times I've tried to put words to how I feel, I haven’t been able to.

I'm not angry, firefly. Maybe I should be. I've tried to be. Despite all our original intent and all of our purposes, you ruined everything that I had. There would be no breath in my lungs if the abyss had not come for me and ripped me from the ground to leave me to the nothingness of freedom. But the simple truth is I'm not. I can't be. Because in the end, firefly, we were both just kids. Kids who ran on fences and believed we could never fall in a way that mattered.

Truthfully, all I really am is sad. I am sad for all you felt forced to sacrifice. Sad for all all we were. For all we could've been if the darkness did not swallow us both. But more than anything, I am sad for those little, scared kids whose innocence was left behind and buried beneath the darkened soil of an unmarked grave.

Do you think that maybe our fall was inevitable? We ran so far that we never gave a thought to what could've been behind us. Maybe that darkness had been chasing us the whole time, and we had just never turned to look behind us. Could we have avoided it, if we had just turned around? I don't know what's worse. If we could've stopped it, or if we were always doomed to let it consume us.

You better be alive out there, wherever you are. Gods curse me, if they really do exist, but after everything I could never forgive you if you weren't. The shovel was in your hands back then, firefly, but I was the one who told you where to dig. You may have been the one to set me aflame, firefly, but it was with my lighter that I was burned alive. The darkness was there for both of us.

This isn't forgiveness. I don't know if it ever could be. But if you see this, firefly, please, come find me. I'll be at the tree we carved our names into, all those years ago. I can climb it now.

~~~

And on that tree I’ll carve your name

‘Cause in years to come we both know we won’t be the same

You asked me to climb, I never learned

But if you ask me for my fire

Just watch me burn.

(Secret Worlds, The Amazing Devil)

[andromeda3116]

also like. they found so much stuff out there that it was like "okay, either pluto isn't a planet and we have only eight* planet-planets in the solar system, or there are an uncountably huge number of planets in our solar system, which stretches out to ???? billions of miles away and perhaps even as far as a light-year"

like rewriting the definition of "planet" to exclude pluto was by far the lesser evil, and so by the updated definition of the word, pluto simply wasn't ever a planet to begin with. we just didn't know enough about the outer solar system when we discovered it to know that our definition was inadequate

*something something planet nine??? probably exists? maybe exists? maybe just weird math in the model? absolute hair-pulling nightmare to ever actually confirm or image?? may have been a rogue planet whose own star died billions of years ago and left it still hurtling along in the interstellar void? maybe small ice giant, maybe super-earth that got flung out to the fringes of the solar system by that regina george-ass planet jupiter? something possibly beautiful hiding in the math and invisible against the far stars, or a flaw in our math that makes it all just a fool's errand?

wow pluto reclassification discourse is exhausting. here I thought doing a poll that highlights some of pluto's cool lesser known dwarf planet friends would put things in a context where it can't possibly go in that direction but nope a bunch people really do just hold a hard stance against a classification system entirely out of a sense of nostalgia

[kindlerofstars]

Rafayel who is a literal sea god with vast riches and powers, yet all he wants is the everyday joys of being around you. He wants to explore all the fun and interesting parts of the world by your side and listen to the rain falling on the sea with you, and it means much more than the riches of Lemuria and his titles.

Xavier who has lived for centuries and traveled the stars, yet all he wants is the quiet domesticity of being with you. He wants to read books and try out the new hot pot place that opened down the road, and this makes these moments with you so meaningful in the midst of his long span of life and experiences.

Zayne who carries the burden and guilt of being unable to save so many people (and even you in another life in another time), yet all of that eases when he sees the cheerful texts you send him during his shift. He wants to treat you for dinner despite your busy schedules and plan little weekend getaways just for the two of you to make for all the lost time missed between you two.

Sylus who is the most powerful and infallible leader of Onychinus, yet all he wants is to use this power and money to take care and provide for you. He wants to buy you whatever clothes you had your eyes on and indulge in whatever game has taken you fancy, because regardless of all that power it means nothing if he cannot be around you.

[mononijikayu]

immortal sukuna who — in your second life (1).

immortal sukuna masterlist

when he saw you again, immortal sukuna thought he lost his ability to breathe.

you were as beautiful as the day he saw you, that's what immortal sukuna thought.

sure, some things were different to him. but those were bound to change, immortal sukuna knew that all too well.

the way you kept your hair or your height. even the color of your eyes or the shape of your lips. even then, you were still you. you were still the love of immortal sukuna's life.

immortal sukuna lets himself stop for a moment, as though to try and memorize how you are now, the beauty you were now.

the changes didn't matter to him. immortal sukuna doubts it would ever matter to him.

but you were living and breathing, so full of life that immortal sukuna had truly missed.

ever more beautiful than before, ever more vibrant of a life to immortal sukuna than before.

and it filled immortal sukuna with delight. for you were here again, as though his prayers were finally answered.

immortal sukuna waited patiently, he waited to be able to even glance at you again.

it's as if the gods finally vindicated him. immortal sukuna was finally favored by the gods. and he was happy. he was happy because it was you.

immortal sukuna took his first steps towards you, breath still as a stone waiting to be moved.

immortal sukuna felt your eyes bore against his, like its the first time again.

immortal sukuna could feel his heart pounding against his chest like a drum.

he couldn't describe the feeling, it was overwhelming. it was like the crashing of the sea against his skin, the rain whisking him away with a roaring tear. it was all too much for immortal sukuna.

and yet when your lips quivered into a tender smile and your eyes beamed brightly like the bright stars in the night sky, immortal sukuna could feel himself lost in you again.

"hello." you whispered to immortal sukuna with that same cheerful tone.

immortal sukuna felt frozen in place as he let your words simmer into his reality, your reality. this reality.

immortal sukuna could feel his dark scarlet eyes water, as though they were the overflowing river in a raging surge.

you looked at immortal sukuna with concern, almost identical to that look you gave him in that mountain top. he felt shivers pass through him.

"are you alright?" are the next words you muttered back to him with all the warmth in the world. warmth that btoke his long suffering winter.

immortal sukuna wiped his tears, looking up to you and felt his own lips raise upwards. more genuine than ever before.

"yes." immortal sukuna whispered back to you. "because you are here."

[pasukiyo]

A PLACE IN THE SEA OF STARS

anakin skywalker x f!naberrie!reader word count: 10.4k (my longest yet... i'm so sorry) warnings: two idiots pining, pining, reader is padme's younger sister (whether biological or adopted is up to you), first time having sex, soft smut, angst synopsis: a life spent in padmé amidala's shadow and never once did she ever think she'd be envious of her sister. that is, until anakin skywalker walks his way into her life and she finds herself praying that one day, he'd look at her the way he does at padmé, that she'll be given a place in the sea of stars, that her destiny will include him.

read on ao3

 It came as no surprise that Anakin Skywalker would be enamored with her second-to-oldest sister.

 After a life spent behind Padmé Amidala’s shadow, she’d grown accustomed to it— being overlooked. But for once, just this once, she wished history wouldn’t repeat itself, wished the prophecy could be rewritten and for once, let it be her who was chosen, who was noticed. 

 But of course, it’s futile. 

 You can sink to your knees and pray to whatever higher being is in the sky but at the end of the day, there are millions of lost souls just like you doing the same. You can have faith, you can believe that someday you’ll be heard but with each silent day that passes, your voice still falls on deaf ears. 

 She’s done her time playing the fool who sinks to her knees and pleads with the night sky to find her a place in the sea of stars, so that she may fit in a constellation too. She’s been the statue who's been made to wait— and she’s started to crumble. 

 She remembers the day she started to pray like it was yesterday. It was the day she first met Anakin Skywalker, back when he was only a Padawan, still searching for his own place in the world. Her parents were restless then, having heard of the multiple assassination attempts on their dear second oldest daughter. Of course she was worried too, but she still could feel the guilt that settled into the marrow of her bones when she found herself pondering whether her parents would react the same way if it had been her life at stake instead. 

 She remembers helping her eldest sister, Sola, and her mother with dinner in preparation for the arrival of their sister Padmé and her Jedi escort. She’d been tasked with bringing a bowl of fruit to the table and she remembered nearly being trampled over by her nieces, Ryoo and Pooja, as they squeal Padmé’s name, sprinting for the door. 

 She remembers huffing, mumbling a curse in an alien language beneath her breath just as their guests step inside, looking up from where she leaned over the table, dropping the bowl down onto the surface. She remembers her breath catching in her throat when her gaze found a sea of blue that put the Naboo waters to shame. 

 Padmé’s lips curved into a grin as she exclaimed her sister’s name, circling the table to capture her in an embrace. Her sister wrapped her arms around her and her chin found Padmé’s shoulder as the blue that took her breath away crashed into her and she swore everything changed in that moment. 

 She remembers the first time Anakin Skywalker looked at her. It was a brief, friendly locking of the eyes but a fleeting moment for him felt like lightyears for her. His eyes were the blue of the water where the sun’s reflection gently ripples and warps. They were the blue of the sky after it rains and the sun begins to spill through the cracks of the wall of clouds. 

 She’s never understood what it meant to be speechless, for something to literally steal the breath away from her lungs. But from the moment her eyes met his, she began to understand. 

 “Anakin! This is my youngest sister,” Padmé announced, pulling away from their embrace. Her spine stiffened when her sister introduced her and she watched as his full, pink lips moved to form her name. His voice is like nails scraping against the itch she can’t reach on her back, his voice is like velvet she can swallow, deliciously soft and rich against her throat. 

 “It’s nice to meet you,” Anakin dipped his chin in greeting, the silly, little braid falling off his shoulder. She drained the lump that had formed in her throat, bowing her head. Her lips trembled and her breath was shaky as she prepared her salutations but her words fell dead on the tip of her tongue when Padmé’s squeal permeated the room. 

 “And my eldest sister Sola!”

 And just like that, all attention rolled away from her and onto her eldest sisters but she still watched him, heart beating against her chest. 

 And that was the moment she began to pray. 

 She prayed, even though the looks he’d given Padmé didn’t go unnoticed. The way he watched her, even when she wasn’t the one speaking, the way he’d soak in every word, every praise for her that fell past her parents’ mouths. The way he stared longingly at her sister when he was certain nobody was watching— and no one was, for their attentions were on Padmé, save for hers. 

 It was typical. 

 It should come as no surprise that everyone would worship the ground her sister— the former Queen, current Senator of Naboo— walked on. She’s not surprised that someone young and benign like him would fall in love with her sister— she’d only seen it happen more times than she ever really cared to count. 

 And she’d never really cared about all the suitors on their knees at Padmé’s feet before— they were her sister’s problems, not hers. She’d never even really envied her sister, at least in that sense. 

 But everything changed the moment Anakin stepped through the door. Everything changed the moment their eyes met, if only for the most fleeting of seconds. 

 So she prayed. 

 Inside the inner realms of her mind, she sinks to her knees and stares into the void above her, the stars that beamed down at her twinkling, almost as if they taunted her. She swallowed her pride, folding her hands together and raising them to her chin, brow dipping as she pleaded with the higher being in the sky to hear her cry. 

 ���Please, hear me, Maker,” she whispered into her mind, externally staring at Anakin, internally losing her gaze amongst the stars as if the Maker himself would appear between them. “Hear my plea. Whatever destiny you’ve pre-written for me, please be sure it includes Anakin Skywalker.”

 She didn’t see Anakin Skywalker again for another year after that. 

 Apparently, being a Jedi means he’s constantly from place to place, but next time they do end up in the same place, it’s even more fleeting than the last. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever see him again, if she was foolish to continue hoping that he might notice her, that he might even love her. But she still remembers the way his eyes flickered in recognition when they caught hers across the courtyard of Theed Royal Palace. His hair was longer and he didn’t have that ridiculous braid or tiny ponytail on the back of his neck anymore. The Chancellor was speaking to him and another Jedi with umber hair and a matching beard, but his attention was on her. 

 He looked… darker. As if the years of war had finally begun taking its toll on him. But he’s still the same man he’s always been, still the same one she’s dreamed about. He even looked better.  

 They don’t get the chance to talk, only share knowing glances, as he was on duty and their paths unfortunately didn’t cross. But that gleaming in his eyes, the one that blazes with knowing is all the kindling in the pit of her belly needs to bloom, to blossom into a raging wildfire. 

 So, she prayed again. 

 “Maker,” she said into that night sky inside of her head. The stars shone brighter, as if to laugh at the foolish girl beneath them. She ignored them of course— because she truly believed that one day, she’d prove them wrong. “Please. Hear my plea. Let Anakin Skywalker see me again. Give me a place in your sea of stars and make sure it is in Anakin Skywalker’s orbit.”

 She doesn’t see him again for another two years. 

 But still, he lingers, just like a phantom weaving through every corner she passes, cloaked in shadow. She sees Anakin Skywalker everywhere she goes— in the lakes of shining waters out in the country, in the rain that falls on a dark, cloudy day, in the litany of stars that idle in the sky. 

 She sees him in her dreams, staring the way he did at Padmé. Only, in her dreams, his gaze finds her. Almost like he had that day in the courtyard, but in her dreams, his eyes would linger longer. 

 His voice calls out to her whenever she’s sleeping and it lingers in gooseflesh on her skin, frosting over her bones. She’ll open her eyes when he calls but she’s never truly awake. Alas, if dreaming is the only way she’ll see Anakin Skywalker again, she’d gladly succumb to her sleep and trick herself into believing it is real. 

 Except tonight, she does not think she can take it much longer. 

 “Anakin,” she whispers one day when she peels her eyelids open after he calls. She says his name like it’ll be the last time she ever will. That look is on his face again— the one she’s seen so many times directed at her in her dreams, she’s nearly forgotten it wasn’t meant for her in the first place. 

 She used to wake and long for sleep to come again, just so she could watch him look at her like that. 

 But three long years of waiting and foolishly praying to beings who do not hear have begun to rust the illusion she’s deluded herself into hopelessly believing in. Three long years of silence and she’s finally cracked. She is broken— she sees it now. She’s grown weary of hoping he’d be the one to fix her. 

 His lips curve to form a smile and for three years, she’s fooled herself into believing it could be for her— truly be for her, outside of her dreams. But to be forthright, she’s tired. She’s grown tired of pretending, tired of clinging onto the dying embers of mere memories of how a man looked at someone that wasn’t her— but rather her sister. She’s grown tired of hoping, waiting, praying that one day, he may wander back into her life and thread his way into the tapestry that her destiny’s been woven into.

 Tonight is the night she forfeits with her palms to the sky, tonight is the night she yields to the stars that have taunted her for far too long and admits her defeat. That they were right all along. Tonight is the night she blows away the ashes she’s desperately held so close to her chest and sealed away in secret urns inside for far too long. 

 Tonight is the night she lets go. 

 When she wakes the following morning, birds chirp outside her window. Sunlight spills into her room as it rises over the mountains across the lake and she yawns, stretching her arms over her head. Today is merry— it is the day her sister, Padmé Amidala, marries. 

 Today is merry but instead, she feels dread seep into the marrow of her bones. She’s happy for her sister, really, she is, but it serves only as a reminder that her time is ticking, and time has turned vexing. It serves as a reminder that she must make haste to find her own purpose, to find someone who will cherish her the way she’s spent many fortnights dreaming about. Sola’s already married and found her purpose, and Padmé’s had her entire life laid out before her since she was only fourteen years of age. 

 Sola, the wife and mother, Padmé, the Queen and then the Senator, and then there’s her. Unsure. Undecided. An ellipsis. 

 She’s envious. How could she not be? She’s envious that she’ll never be the perfect mother like Sola, envious that she’ll never live up to Padmé’s legacy, she’s even grown envious of the stars: they simply idle in the night sky but even their idleness has a purpose because their places have reason, to create constellations that in turn, tell stories. 

 She knows that after today, the pressure of fulfilling whatever destiny’s been written for her will only further suffocate her. She will suffocate beneath the weight of this pressure and she will be expected to continue breathing. She’s tried for so long to keep the air in her lungs but it’s so hard when with each day that passes by, the darkness grows more appealing. 

 She’s tried so hard to find the right path she’s supposed to take, but there are so many roads, so many choices and so many consequences. She’s afraid— and it’s why she’s allowed herself to hide in her sisters’ shadows for so long. But it feels so stifling now. 

 She sighs and blinks up to the terracotta ceiling. And then of course, dread wears her bones for an entirely different reason. Because it’s inevitable that she’s going to see Anakin Skywalker today. And things will be different. 

 It’s been lingering like an annoying, little insect since Padmé announced she’d invited her Jedi friends to the wedding, ever since she heard Anakin’s name being read off the list. Things were certain to change because he is but a mere guest, and not the groom. 

 It may have come as no surprise that Anakin would fall for her, but it certainly came as a shock that Padmé wouldn’t fall for him. 

 It makes her flesh blaze with a strange anger she’s not quite sure how to describe. How could her sister have something she so desperately wanted but not pursue it? How could she reject Anakin when he would willingly break and bend to her every whim? Why must her sister take his infatuation for granted— why could it not be given to her instead?

 She thinks it must be some cruel trick the Maker is playing on her, dangling Anakin in front of her like that, cursing him with an unrequited love when she was right there. She thinks it must be the Maker’s— damn him— cruel way of taunting her, as if the sneering stars had eyes, his eyes. Even if part of her is relieved Anakin is not marrying her sister, it still feels like a blaster wound to her chest, puncturing her skin and searing her insides. 

 She hears her name called from outside her room’s door and groans. 

 “What do you want?” She replies in displeasure as the door slides open. Her eldest sister, Sola, steps into the room and glowers at her youngest sister’s tone. 

 “Well, good morning sunshine,” Sola remarks and she rolls her eyes. Sola makes her way towards the bed, dropping a dress the color of fire onto the mattress. “Is there a reason for your ill-temper today?”

 She pushes herself to sit upright, wrinkling her nose at the dress as she takes a fistful of it in her hand. “Orange?” She scoffs, tossing it back down onto the bed. “I thought we were wearing blue?”

 Sola shrugs, plopping down onto the mattress. “Padmé changed her mind last minute,” she says. “I suppose if we wore blue, we’d mesh with the background, don’t you think?”

 She sighs and flops back down against her pillows, one arm folded over her stomach, the other folded behind her head. Sola pokes her forefinger against her knee and she grumbles, narrowing her eyes at the ceiling. 

 “Now, answer the question,” her oldest sister insists. “What’s the matter with you?”

 Her eyelids flutter closed and she wishes more than anything that she could simply wink out of existence. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be here for Padmé, she does, but she’s uncertain how she could possibly explain how she feels to Sola in a way she could understand. It’s exactly this that’s made her feel so alone all these years. 

 She’s never had someone who could understand her, really get her. She’s always been different from her sisters, even before marriage and coronations and political promotions. It’s something she’s certain her sisters have known, that even her parents must’ve known. She’s never been jovial and nurturing like Sola, or clever and independent like Padmé. She’s always preferred silence and privacy, and maybe that’s been her problem. But it’s all she knows, being alone. 

 Sola’s never spent years yearning for a boy who yearns for another, so she couldn’t possibly understand. She doesn’t think she could even make her understand. 

 She sighs, lolling her head to the side until her gaze finds Sola’s. 

 “Not looking forward to wearing that dress for the entire evening,” she says instead. Sola’s eyes roll and she leans over to pinch her calf beneath the covers. She hisses and swats her sister’s hand away as she clicks her tongue, moving out of the way. 

 “Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Sola tries to reason. 

 “It’s hideous,” she deadpans. 

 Sola deflates with the acceptance of her defeat. She grabs her sister’s knee, giving it a shake. She glares at her older sister. 

 “Come on, that can’t be the only reason why you’re in such a foul mood,” Sola insists, her bottom lip rolling in a pout and she swears it’s almost comical how her eldest sister can act like such a child. It’s a wonder how she has children of her own. 

 She blinks at Sola as a sort of realization creeps onto her eldest sister’s face and she blinks, internally grimacing. For she knows that whatever is bound to come out of her sister’s mouth next is going to be completely and utterly wrong. 

 “I think I get it now,” Sola’s tone is softer, her face falling to match it. “You’re upset you’ll be the last of us to be married.”

 And there it is. 

 She internally cringes at just how wrong Sola is but she says nothing, further prompting her sister to lean forward, reaching for the hand that rests on her stomach. Her muscles stiffen when she takes it and she wills herself to stay still. It was better to let Sola say whatever she had to say than recoil and deny it— it’s not like she had any better excuse anyways. 

 “I know it can be tough,” she begins. “Feeling like you’re left out. Believe me, I had my fair share of it. I was so jealous of yours and Padmé’s relationship when you were younger because I was so much older, I felt like I just didn’t quite fit in with you two.”

 Her eyes finally meet Sola’s and she begins to see her eldest sister in a different light. All this time, she’s believed she’s the only one who’s felt this way— lost, left behind. While this isn’t quite the same context, she still feels her heart tremble in her chest for her sister, still feels like something’s shifted. It’s at least one thing they can understand each other on. 

 “But then, I found my husband. And then I had Ryoo and Pooja,” Sola continues. “And it was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

 Sola’s grip tightens around her hand and she leans forward to place her other one on top. “I know it must seem hard, seeing as both Padmé and I are married— well, almost anyway.” Her lips curve into a soft, reassuring grin. “But you’ll find that same happiness one day. I just know it. So don’t fret, little sister.”

And there, she fears, is where her sister misses the plot. 

 She almost wants to laugh at how ridiculous this all sounds. She remains silent, however, and Sola gives the back of her hand one last reassuring pat before she lets go, sliding off of the mattress. 

 “Anyways, I’m going to breakfast. You should come too before all the blue waffles are gone.”

 She watches as her eldest sister slips out of the room, the door sliding closed behind her and she sighs, digging her knuckles into her closed eyelids until the galaxy shimmers before her. How could Sola have come so close to understanding her one minute only to read her so wrong the next?

 She doesn’t make any effort to get out of bed and in all honesty, she wishes she could simply stay here forever, or at least for the rest of the night. At least long enough that she doesn’t have to face Anakin Skywalker. 

 Because even though she’s already promised herself that she’d let him go, she wasn’t entirely certain she could hold true to her own word when she sees him again.

 The day goes by in a blur. In the blink of an eye, she’s wearing a satin dress in that deep orange she finds hideous beside Sola who stands beside Padmé. Padmé stands facing her husband-to-be, fingertips delicately placed in his palms as they recite their vows. 

 The sun paints the villa’s terrace with an orange glow and she watches it sink beneath the mountains across the lake from the corner of her eye. The sunlight looks like fire rippling in the gentle waves of the water below and she has to look away because she thinks of Anakin, how his eyes glimmer just the same. 

 She’s determined to keep her gaze away from the audience, however, because she knows he’s there, the incarnation of all she’s ever wanted, of all her bad ideas, of everything she cannot trust herself with in one. She searches the ground below, watches the way her dress ruffles with the breeze, like fire askew in the wind. 

 Padmé says something that makes the audience erupt in laughter and it startles her, so much that the hair on the back of her neck erects. When she flinches, she makes the mistake of blinking up— right into the eyes she’d been bound to avoid all night. 

 The world around Anakin Skywalker seems to stir until it’s all wet, blurry hues of orange, green, and white. Anakin is the only one she sees in high resolution— she can see every lock of wavy, dark blonde hair, every rippling wave in his irises, the scarlet line that slices just beside his right eye. She’d never seen this scar before— it must be new. 

 But what’s the most peculiar of all is that she meets his eyes— she meets his eyes. She’d blinked up to find he’d already been staring, already transfixed on her by the time their gazes met and his eyes had illuminated with that same knowing gleam she’d seen in them that day in the royal courtyard. 

 Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she is not in a dream. It’s both momentous and utterly devastating all the same.

 She isn’t quite sure whether to look away or not. This is what she's mooned over more times than her pride will allow her to admit. She’s dreamed this many nights, for Anakin Skywalker to simply look at her and now he is. Anakin Skywalker is looking at her and she should feel elated but instead she feels… conflicted. 

 Does her heart flutter in her chest? Sure. 

 Does her stomach twist itself into knots? Certainly. 

 She felt so confident just the night before when she threw her hands up in surrender to the black sky, admitting her defeat to the stars who spent many moons mocking her that she was done. She felt so confident that she was ready to move on, to let go of this desire she’s harbored for Anakin for so long. 

 With the simplest of looks, Anakin Skywalker has proven capable of crumpling the paper walls she’d placed around herself. She was left feeling feeble, exposed and any sense of courage she thought she had was now lost. 

 Because three years of waiting and praying to higher entities who did not hear her pleas could not cease overnight. Her attraction to Anakin Skywalker could not cease in hours. She thought she’d extinguished the last flames of her withering hope but, as it turns out, a single dying ember remained. It means a part of her still yearned for him. A part of her still burned for him. 

 She wonders now, that he’s still looking at her, what possibly goes on inside his head. Why does he look at her now? Why does he stare, why do his lips twitch before curving in a smile when their eyes meet, why do they irradiate the longer her gaze lingers on his? Why does he not look sad at the wedding of the woman he loves? Why does he not even look at Padmé?

 Her mind swirls like a tempest— churning with unhinged, vicious anguish. She has to look away before the acid that bubbles in her throat can come to fruition but she can’t, and Anakin seemingly can’t tear his gaze away from her either. It’s all the more sickening and earth-shattering nonetheless. Her heart swells and pounds in her chest, the border of her vision beginning to blur with the familiar sting of tears. Her head is aching and it’s all just too much— she needs an escape. 

 “I now pronounce you, husband and wife.”

 She blinks away her emotion to the best of her ability, using the end of the ceremony as an excuse to look away as the crowd around her thunders with applause. Her mind is reeling and she feels like her head is spinning as she subconsciously claps her palms together, the sound muffled like water in her ears.  The watercolor around her stirs until it’s clear again and the entire world suddenly seems to move again— it’s her, this time, that’s in slow motion. 

 The cheering sounds like thunder, the applause like rain pelting against a window, and her mind begins to crumple, just like metal. She longs for escape, to flee and to be beside herself for the rest of the night. Padmé and her husband begin walking back down the aisle as their guests congratulate them, tossing flower petals into the air above them. She thinks that this is her chance to escape, she thinks everyone is distracted enough that no one will notice her leaving. 

 They never cared to notice her before anyways. 

 She begins to shuffle away but she doesn’t make it very far before her stomach lurches when someone clasps a hand around her wrist, tugging her forward. She snaps her head to the source to find her eldest sister, Sola, with her face illuminated by a grin. 

 “Come on!” Sola exclaims, dragging her down the aisle and back inside the villa. “It’s time to party!”

 Dread drains the blood from her cheeks but she’s given no time to protest before she’s being dragged down the aisle, right past Anakin Skywalker. She doesn’t dare look up but she feels him when she passes by, a mere brush of the arms, the feeling of his elbow brushing going just as fast as it came. 

 And it’s still enough to make liquid of her insides. 

 She drowns in a sea of people as she and Sola find Padmé, wrapped in their mother’s arms. She can hear her heart drum in her ears as Sola releases her hand to draw Padmé into an embrace, tears streaming down the apples of her cheeks. Everyone around her is so happy and she should be too— but she still feels like she’s beside the altar, caught in the trap Anakin has seemingly laid out for her. 

 A tear that’s been painfully dormant in her eye falls and she’s certain her distress shows on her face but it must be easily mistaken for tears of joy, because Padmé pulls away from Sola to turn to her, drawing her in for a hug. Her sister’s arms wrap around her body, a palm on her back, the other cupping the back of her head. Even Sola reaches forward to give her upper arm a reassuring squeeze, undoubtedly thinking back to the conversation they’d had earlier. 

 “Don’t cry for me, baby sister,” Padmé laughs tearfully beside her ear. She can feel Padmé’s smile against her shoulder. She pulls away and rubs her palms up and down the length of her arms. “I’m still the same Padmé I’ve always been.”

 She’s unable to reply— again, she’s misunderstood. But it’s her sister’s wedding day, she won’t burden her with her own confliction. So she swallows the boulder-sized lump in her throat, curving her lips just enough to form a tight-lipped smile. 

 “I’m just… happy for you,” she manages. Padmé cups her cheek and soothes the pad of her thumb over her skin before Ryoo and Pooja draw her attention away. Padmé’s hands fall from her arms and finally, she can breathe. 

 But even that is momentary. 

 “You make a perfectly fine bride if I do say so myself, Senator.”

 Her spine stiffens. She knows that voice. And she knows exactly who is near when she hears it. 

 Padmé laughs and tosses her hands. “Obi-Wan,” she greets him just like an old friend would, pulling him in for an embrace. “And little Ani.”

 How is it that she’s already seen him more tonight than she has in the past three years? She sees Anakin’s dark boots from the top of her vision, not daring to tear her gaze from the ground. 

 “Padmé,” Anakin’s deep, enriching voice sounds and rumbles deep in her belly. She shifts uncomfortably where she stands, desperate to flee. She thinks she can manage it now— Obi-Wan and Anakin are engrossed with Padmé now, right? 

 She begins to make her first attempt of escape, taking slow, careful steps to the side until her second effort crumbles when Anakin speaks her name. 

 Ice frosts over her spine and she’s no choice but to acknowledge the man she was so intent on avoiding the entire evening. Padmé and Obi-Wan are engrossed in their own conversation but Anakin’s gaze remains on her, eyes even sparkling when she finally meets them. 

 Her mouth is a desiccated oasis and her throat feels like a desert as it constricts painfully when she swallows. Still, she manages to breathe out, “Anakin.”

 It’s the first time she can ever recall having a true, proper conversation with him. The last time being when they said their goodbyes that very first time before he and Padmé left for the Lake Country. It’s confusing how this is everything she’s ever wanted yet, she feels an urge to push it all away. 

 Anakin clears his throat and his eyes flicker to his feet for a moment as if he could possibly be nervous before they find hers again. “You look good,” he says and her heart stops beating in her chest. “That dress is beautiful on you.”

 She thinks she could punch him. 

 Or kiss him. 

 She has to look away, or she may very well do the latter. 

 She wonders if this is some cruel, senseless joke the Maker is playing on her. She wonders if she’d upset him by unlatching herself from his hook and this is his way of reeling her back in. She hates that it has the potential to work. 

 “I…” she stammers and closes her lids frustratedly, willing air back into her lungs. She shakes her head— she cannot be here any longer. She may very well explode if she has to succumb to this torture for even a second more. “…thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

 And then, she bolts. 

 She’s lost track of how long she’s been locked in her room, sitting in the window, staring at the moonlight that ripples in the water below. It was long enough for the chatter downstairs to quiet to murmurs until it finally ceased altogether. The villa is now quiet and suddenly, her room feels suffocating. 

 With a sigh, her feet meet the floor and she pushes away from the window seat, cupping her neck to roll it around her shoulders as she pads towards the door. It slides open and she slips through, making her way down the hallway leading towards the main foyer. Her dress flows behind her like flames in the wind, the satin cool against her legs as she walks. Fresh, night air greets her and she inhales, letting it flood her lungs as she saunters to the wide terrace ahead. 

 She stops at the stone arches of the railing and exhales, feeling the wind sift its fingers through her hair, breathing on her skin like a lover in the throes of passion. It caresses her neck and rolls down her back, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. 

 She’d spent many nights just like this one. Staring at the moon rippling through the water, at the stars that twinkle overhead, the sky that blackens behind them. She’d spent many nights praying, releasing her pleas into the air and letting it drift away with the breeze. 

 She does not pray this time. When she lifts her head to brave the dark that faces her, she merely asks why. 

 “Why, Maker,” she whispers beneath her breath. There’s an edge, a strain to her voice that stings her throat, that feels like daggers to her chest. “Why must you be so cruel? I have done everything, I have given you everything. Why wasn’t it enough? Why do you mock me now?”

 The stars overhead gleam as they cackle, sneering at the misfit below. “You’ll never have a place among us,” they seem to say. Tears well in her eyes and she drops her head, fingernails scraping the stone edge of the railing. She leans back on her heels and wills herself to breathe before a sob could wrack her body. 

 She feels lost and utterly alone, and she truly begins to feel like the weight of this prolonged pain has started to fall on top of her. She’s lost and alone and her entire world has started to crumble around her. And then she hears her name. 

 It’s like the call that haunts her every time she closes her eyes, the same velvety voice that caresses her ear every night when she lies down in bed. But it is not a ghostly whisper this time, because it is real. 

 Footsteps sound behind her and she further scratches her nails against the railing. 

 “I was wondering where you wandered off to,” Anakin remarks as he approaches and she can feel him beside her, like a whisper of shadow creeping along her skin. She rolls back onto the balls of her feet and stands straight, sniffing. 

 “Anakin,” she says, steadily, methodically. As if it took great effort to say it without stammering. She can see him out of her peripheral, dark blonde curls falling when he leans an elbow against the railing, tilting his head in an attempt to meet her eye. 

 She does not move. 

 “I was looking for you, you know,” he continues. “You must’ve found a good hiding spot.”

 She rolls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I was in my room,” she replies simply, a steely, monotone in her voice.

 Anakin inhales and hums. “Then it makes sense why I could not find you. I would never barge into a lady’s room.”

 It’s an attempt at humor but she feels anything but. She’s stuck between a rock and a hard place with seemingly no clear solution in sight. She could walk away. She should walk away. She shouldn't spend a single second more in Anakin Skywalker’s presence— she simply couldn’t trust herself to not betray her own vow. 

 Or she could stay. She could stay and once again succumb to the fool’s game she’s been playing. She could stay and let Anakin Skywalker tie another noose around her neck, allowing him to drag her along for another three years. 

 She knows what is right. She knows what she should do. 

 But she’s frozen. 

 She cannot move, cannot even bring her lips to move so she can speak. She instead wilts, like a rose who once stood beautifully now losing its color, shriveling in on herself until she inevitably withers away. 

 She can feel Anakin draw himself just an inch closer beside her, and he’s like a single drop of rain that’s enough to somewhat salvage the husk of who she once was. 

 “Why do you avoid me?” He asks and it’s a question so simply but so damn infuriating all the while. She’s been a volcano in dormancy up until this point, but there’s a rumbling deep within her, threatening to erupt. 

 “Why are you doing this?” She questions, snapping her head towards him, brows dipped and drawn. Anakin blinks and draws back, a dent forming between his own brows. 

 “Doing what?” He asks and that feeling of wanting to ram her fist into his face comes back. She turns to fully face him and he pushes off the railing, uncertainty warping his features. 

 “This,” she gestures between them. “Staring at me. Talking to me. As if we’ve spoken more than hellos and goodbyes to each other.”

 Anakin raises a brow, the one his scar pierces, and it warps with the movement. 

 She continues. “And then you have the audacity to tell me I look beautiful in this gods-awful dress just to spite me.” She is a volcano, no longer dormant, no longer overlooked. She is exploding and Anakin is unfortunate enough to be in her wake. 

 He shakes his head. “Spite you?” He repeats. She begins to pace, a hand on her hip, the other rubbing her chin. Anakin follows, exactly like a lost puppy. “I wasn’t— I would never—“

 “Don’t say you’d never,” she turns on him, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. He blinks from it back to her, that ocean in the irises of his eyes raging, lightning cracking in the sinkhole at its center. She drops her hand and it curls at her side, her fists two shaking balls of fury. Blood bites her cheeks and she thinks of all the times she’s imagined speaking with Anakin Skywalker, of being alone with him. 

 This certainly was not how she’d ever imagined the scenario playing out. 

 She inhales. “Don’t say you’d never do anything to spite me while you are actively using me to get over Padmé,” she exhales, braving the stormy sea in his eyes. The tide shifts and his manner does too and she believes she’s already cracked him. She thinks she’s already shattered the illusion he was trying to create, that she’s lifted the wool he’s tried to veil over her eyes.

 She thinks that he believes whatever game he was trying to play was over. 

 Anakin straightens. “You have no idea what you are talking about,” he says and she scoffs, backing away. 

 “Don’t I?” She retorts. “You don’t think I’ve noticed how you’ve always looked at her? How you’ve always loved her?” 

 It brings her great pain to merely mention it. Her palms wipe at her face as tears begin welling in her eyes again, her cheeks warm as she desperately tries to quell the beginnings of a sob that stutters through her chest. She realizes now that by keeping all of these emotions, these feelings she’s harbored for Anakin for so long bottled has made her restless, has made her tick like a time bomb. 

 And her time to detonate has come. 

 He says her name again and tries to step forward, reeling back when she steps away from him. His hand wrapped in a leather glove hovers in the air between them and he drops it with an exasperated sigh. 

 “Your sister means a great deal to me, yes,” he begins. “But it is not—“

 “My sister is the sole reason why you torment me!” She snaps. “And you have no right to use how I feel against me just because she does not love you back.”

 Her words are an arrow meant to strike, to pierce through his chest, his heart her target. Her words are meant to cut deep, to draw blood, to make him bleed just like she has everyday since they met. She thinks they will, she thinks her blows will etch deep, will even leave scars in their wake. Part of her longs to see that pained expression upon his face, just like the one she wears now. 

 But her arrow merely grazes, soaring past until it sinks in the shining waters below. 

 Anakin’s face shifts but it is not in the way she thought it would, not in the way she hoped it would. His brows dip and his eyes swarm with a pained sort of desperation she’s never seen before in someone. She certainly never expected to see it in someone like him. His chest rises and falls with his breaths as he steps forward again. She stands still, unable to move. She is stunned— Anakin Skywalker has surprised her. 

 “Padmé does not love me,” he admits. “I met her when I was only a child. The only girl I’d ever seen before her was my own mother. So, of course, I felt drawn to her.” Her jaw tightens and her lips fall together in a firm, thin line. Anakin’s brows knit closer together and there’s a flicker in his eyes that she swears looks like the predecessor to tears. 

 She doesn’t quite want to believe it. He could not cry. 

 “And I spent a decade pining, a decade praying that I’d one day see her again, a decade hoping she’d been counting down the days until she saw me again, just like I was.”

 She doesn’t believe what she’s hearing. It’s a reflection of her own story, her own foolish pining, her own foolish praying but not hers, but Anakin’s. Her heart stutters in her chest and she forgets to breathe, having to gasp to gather air back into her lungs. 

 She’s never once felt like she could be understood. She’s never once felt like anyone else could experience the inner turmoil she has, the seemingly fruitless yearning she has. 

 But she’s realizing now that that's not true. Not anymore, at least. Everything is changing right before her eyes. 

 “And then I did,” Anakin shakes his head, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. “And I felt nothing. But I tried. I tried to convince myself I loved her. But I just… didn’t.”

 Her brow furrows and Anakin’s gaze darkens as it finds hers. 

 “I spent a decade obsessing over someone I didn’t really know, and how could I? I was a child.” His eyes search hers, searching for something unbeknownst to her. But she lets him. “I didn’t know what love was. All I knew was infatuation. I didn’t know what it meant to truly feel seen, to truly feel drawn to someone.”

 Anakin pauses and she gets the feeling that whatever he says next will be calamitous. 

 “Until I saw you again, that day outside the palace.”

 Her lips tremble and her breath shudders, an icy chill frosting over her skin. To think he’s thought about her everyday since their eyes briefly met in the midst of a crowded courtyard was hard to believe yet, when she looks at Anakin Skywalker now, she sees the softening of his brow, the quiver in his lips, the honesty in his eyes. 

 She’s only ever imagined one look in his eyes. Desire. 

 But she looks at him now and finds an entire galaxy— there’s longing, there’s earnest, there’s optimism, there’s burning. As it turns out, living creatures are not black and white like she initially thought them to be. Anakin Skywalker is a complex creature, made of flesh and blood and of an intricacy she’d never stopped to consider before. 

 He’s even better than she’s imagined he’d be. 

 Every moment spent under the stars, praying that she’d one day have a place among them, that she one day would sit among them with purpose rather than in an ellipsis suddenly begins to feel like it wasn’t all for nothing after all. Every prayer she’s whispered into the night breeze with Anakin Skywalker’s name in it suddenly feels like they begin to matter, like they begin to come true. 

 Still, she is wary, and Anakin seems to recognize this caution. 

 He takes a step closer and he steals the breath from her chest, just like he had the first moment she saw him. Her fingers twitch, itching to find his, her palms tingling with the desire to feel his skin, her lips buzzing with yearning. She does not touch him, she does not kiss him, she does not do anything. She simply waits for the rest of his story to unfold and her brain aches with the hope that it will unravel into hers. 

 “I saw you that day at the palace to find you were already looking at me. That you were already seeing me,” he mutters, a little breathlessly. “It may have been for… for only a moment but when you looked at me, I felt…” he trails off, a furrow in his brow as he searches for the correct word. “…I felt… like something shifted.”

 She watches as he rolls his lips together, watches as the moonlight catches how they glisten with spittle. Her breath catches a little bit, her gaze lingering there, her desire to lap it all up flaring. 

 “It felt like there was a string there between us I’d never noticed before,” he continues. “There was a connection I’d never realized until the moment our eyes met. I felt you, and I felt you see me. There hasn’t been a day that’s passed by since where I didn’t feel you, where I didn’t feel like we were connected, like we were two stars written in the same constellation.”

 Her chest rises and falls to the erratic beating of her heart as Anakin draws nearer, the hand with his glove meeting her cheek with a tenderness she’d felt from no one before. She’d never realized how starved of touch she’s been until now and it feels so invigorating. Her stare drops to his lips and she feels that string Anakin must’ve been talking about, feels it drawing her closer into his mouth. 

 “Padmé does not love me back, and I do not care,” he says in just above a whisper, his voice rising and falling in a way that jellifies her knees, that makes liquid of her insides. “Because I am burning– foolishly, maybe, yes– for you.”

 She inhales sharply and it truly feels like all her prayers are finally being answered, like she’s being inducted into her rightful place in the sea of stars. And in her constellation, Anakin Skywalker resides too. 

 She reaches up with a hand to hold the crook of his elbow that’s strung between them as he brings his other, ungloved hand to rest on her other cheek. She feels his skin on her cheek as the pad of his thumb soothes over the warmth of her flesh and her body quakes with shivers that roll down her spine all the way to her toes. He begins to lean in, his breath hot where it fans against her skin but she tilts backwards, just enough for him to halt, a quirk in one of his brows. 

 “I will not let you settle for me, Anakin Skywalker,” she whispers, admitting that insecurity still lingers, despite his words. Anakin’s eyes narrow as he uses his hands on either sides of her face to draw her in, his lips but a mere whisper away from hers when he murmurs, “settle? This is not settling. This is binding.”

 Then, his lips are on hers in an electrifying bind that shatters her spine with cracks of lightning and she falls into him, her hands on either of his forearms to keep herself steady. 

 Anakin kisses her with an ardor she could never even dream up in all of her wildest of fantasies. He kisses her and she feels like she finally fits in her dress, as it is the color of fire and she’s engulfed in flames. He kisses her and he is the flame that lights her candle, the flame that melts her from the center, that makes heat course through her that washes all the way down to her toes. He kisses her and she is melting, right into him. 

 His tongue pirouettes over hers and she hums into his mouth, feeling his fingers thread through her hair. Her heart is pounding and her lips are buzzing but all she feels is Anakin, she feels the muscles in his arms, the warmth that radiates off his body and spills into her. She feels the push and pull of the passion, the yearning he’s kept inside all this time. She feels her own longing and fervor pour into him and they are floating, two clouds that collide into one another to become one. 

 Anakin steps forward and steps backwards until she hits a wall. When they pull away for breath, she realizes he’s backed her into one of the pillars, a vine caught in the hair on the back of her head. Their chests heave with the weight of their breaths and she watches as Anakin’s hand, not the gloved one, but the one with skin rises, following it as it reaches for her neck. She shudders when he touches her collarbone, exposed from the side of the fiery satin of her dress. His fingertips sear her skin as it drags to the neck of her dress, following the satin where it wraps around her throat, all the way to the back of her neck where the lace falls. 

 Her breath catches when his fingers find the small strings keeping her dress together. Her gaze finds his again to find he’s already staring, a narrow, earnest look upon his face that darkens his eyes and hardens his features. There is a silent question that hangs in the air between them: “do you want to stop?”

 Maybe they’re moving too fast. Maybe this is crazy, maybe they’re simply caught up in the moment, high off the feeling of burning for someone who burns for them too. But after years of pining, of waiting, of praying, it only feels right. 

 But still, she asks, “what if someone sees? Someone like Obi-Wan who can get you in trouble?”

 Anakin shakes his head, “they won’t. Now, I don’t want to talk about Obi-Wan. Do you want to stop?”

 The shake of her head is all Anakin needs to see before he unlaces the strings holding her dress together, the satin falling like a spark blazing down the frayed edges of a rope until it pools at her elbows. Her breasts spill from the dress and the night’s ghostly whisper chills her skin, peaking her nipples. 

 Anakin’s eyes devour and she is prey. 

 His stare pierces through her skin to the marrow of her bones that catch a chill and she quakes. He meets her eyes again as his hands drift lower, dipping until they finally find her chest. A sharp gasp escapes when his palms cup either of her breasts and she arches into his touch, already aching for more. 

 “Anakin!” She gasps in a breathy exclaim when he dips his chin to press a kiss over the top of one of her breasts, heat blossoming in his lips’ wake. His eyes catch her again, a little warily. “Is this okay?” He asks, his voice low and gravely, scratching the itch in her brain she didn’t even know she had. It makes her knees feel weak and if it hadn’t been for his body pressed up against hers, she would’ve crumpled straight to the ground. 

 “Yes,” she breathes, chest heaving into his palms. “I’m sorry, I’ve just… never…”

 Anakin’s lips curve and she can see a flash of white peek between them. He shakes his head. “Me neither,” he admits with a breathy laugh and she titters too, grateful for the fact that she’s not the only one who’s a little green. 

 “Can I keep going?” He questions and his voice is liquid desire, melting straight down to her core. She swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat, nodding. “Please,” she adds, feeling her heart beat straight into his palm. 

 Anakin’s head dips again and she watches, cheeks warm as he places an open-mouthed kiss just above her nipple. His palm kneads the other breast as his lips venture just an inch lower, finding the peaked bud that awaits, suckling it into his mouth. 

 It’s like electricity flooding through her veins. 

 She throws her head back, lips falling agape as her eyelids snap closed, soaking in the pleasure of Anakin’s lips on her nipple. He cautiously flicks his tongue against the bud, watching through his lids as a moan falls from her lips, encouraging him to do it again. He flattens his tongue against her nipple and licks a long, fat stripe from the underside of it up, feeling her tremble in his arms. He lets go of her breast with a wet pop, trailing kisses through the valley between them to make his way to the other. 

 Touching him, feeling him, kissing him is somehow even better than she’d ever imagined, even after all those years of dreaming for moments like this. She can’t believe she’s gone so long without feeling him like this, she doesn’t think she can ever stop touching him. 

 Anakin suckles on her breast, flicking his tongue against her nipple as his hand not wrapped in a glove ventures down her body, past her waist, down her hip. He pulls the satin material of her dress up until his arm can sneak his way beneath it and she shivers when his fingers find her center over her underwear. Her nails dig into his sleeves above his shoulders, holding her breath as he finds the wet spot in her underwear, gently pressing against it. 

 Her hands tighten on his shoulders and ceases all movement, peering up at her. “You’re wet,” he says rather matter-of-factly because of course she is, how could she not be? She nods down at him, swallowing thick layers of saliva down her throat. “Can I touch you here?” He asks and his voice drops to that silky, velvety tone that makes her core ache. She presses her lips together to stifle her groan, head vigorously nodding up and down. 

 “Gods yes, Anakin,” she moans, slowly rocking her hips against his finger. “Please.”

 She feels filthy in a way for asking, for needing friction so desperately. She’s only ever taken her own fingers when she’s too lost in pleasure at night to sleep, never been touched by anyone else but it’s all she craves now, for Anakin’s fingers to touch her, for him— whatever part it may be— to be inside her. 

 A flame had been ignited in the pit of her belly long ago, back when Anakin first stepped through the door the day they met. It’s sat stagnant for too long, waiting for its moment to further bloom and now it has. It blossomed when her eyes met Anakin’s that day in the courtyard but it’s now in full bloom, now that they burn together, now that his kisses have seared her skin, now that his fingers are pulling her underwear down her thighs, just enough that he can reach her center. 

 When his fingertips brush her clit, she bursts. 

 Anakin’s arm wraps around her waist as she practically collapses into him, his middle finger drawing circles against her clit, his breath hot as his lips rest on her brow. 

 “Is this good?” He asks against her forehead. “Do you feel good?” He questions again as he adds his forefinger to the mix, applying just a little more pressure and it makes her eyes roll. 

 “Yes, just… just don’t stop,” she exhales, feeling her stomach twist itself into a knot, his fingers against her clit threatening to pull it undone any moment. 

 So he doesn’t. 

 He’s unrelenting in the way his fingers press to the aching bud in her center, tracing tight circles until her eyes squeeze closed so hard, milky-ways shimmer behind her lids. He dares venture lower, gathering her slick on the pads of his fingers as he teases near her entrance. It’s a foreign and strange feeling, it’s a pattern she’s traced many times with her own fingers but never been touched by someone else. Even in spite of how many nights she spent trekking that path wishing it was Anakin’s fingers instead, but it’s still strange feeling him there now. 

 She clutches his arm tighter and he slows, beginning to retract his hand. She stops him, lifting her head until their eyes meet again. 

 “No,” she pants, shaking her head. “Don’t stop, just… just take it slow.”

 He nods, his finger a little unsure as it circles her entrance, unintentionally teasing until she begins to crack. She’s panting, trying to wiggle her hips so that she can draw his fingers in, seeking that feeling of being full. Anakin dips his forefinger into her hole and she tosses her head back, her lips parting for an “oh” to emit. 

 He watches her face, even if she can’t see it, she can feel his gaze behind her closed lids. He is testing the waters, learning what makes her moan, what makes her squirm, what makes her come. Slowly, he sinks his finger further in and she feels every single millimeter that drags along her walls until he’s knuckle deep. Her legs feel like jelly and her knees begin to wobble, nails clinging to his sleeves like they were her lifeline. 

 Pressure builds in the pit of her belly as Anakin carefully retracts his finger, just to sink it back in again, a slow, cautious rhythm that leaves her mind spinning. His fingers are so much bigger than hers and she already feels so stuffed despite it only being one finger. Somehow, it’s too much and not enough at the same time. 

 “Ana… Anakin,” she gasps, peeling open her lids to find he’s already looking. His finger slows but picks up its pace again when he realizes she’s not in any pain. “Another.”

 His brow dips and his head tilts in confusion, uncertain what she means. She gathers moisture on her lips, trying to speak through the pleasure-driven haze in her mind. 

 “Another finger. Please.”

 Their eyes lock and there’s a flicker in his, a hint of doubt. 

 “Are you su—“

 “Please.”

 So, Anakin gathers her lips with his and she mewls into his mouth when he presses his middle against his pointer, sinking them into her cunt until they reach as far as they can. She’s trembling against him but he keeps her upright, with his arm and with his lips. 

 Just one of Anakin’s fingers had made her feel stuffed but two of his fingers made her feel full to the brim. Her walls clench around his fingers and she gasps his name like the beginning of a prayer, pleading for more. 

 It’s a twist on the prayers she recites to the Maker every night. It’s rewriting her every broken hymn, transforming it into something entirely new. She moans Anakin’s name and his fingers turn it into a song so that she cries like a dove into the night. The Maker may have left her feeling broken, wasted, unimportant but Anakin has found her, patched her up, polished her until she’s brand new. 

 The tangle in her belly begins to rupture, slowly unraveling and so she pushes his arm away, his fingers sliding out of her cunt, her walls pulsing with the loss. They both pant and Anakin’s face hardens in question as his chest heaves. 

 “What is it?” He asks, searching her face. 

 She gathers air deep in her chest. “I want…” She trails off, her embarrassment washing over her cheeks in blood. Her gaze drops and Anakin tilts his head to find it again, their eyes locked. He says nothing, only the nod of his head encourages her to continue. “…I want more. I want… I want you to…”

 She purses her lips in frustration. For heaven’s sake, she’s talking to the man who just had his fingers inside of her mere moments ago. Why does she feel embarrassed now?

 She takes another deep breath, mustering the courage to tell what she truly wants. “…I want you to feel good too.”

 Something shifts in Anakin’s eyes. It could be easily mistaken as a trick of the light but she sees it, she feels it. Anakin is burning just the same as her, his pupils becoming a backdrop behind the fires of desire, and she burns within it. 

 She watches as Anakin’s hand sinks below the belt around his middle, all the way down to the waistband of his trousers beneath his dark tunic. She watches with her breath lodged at the base of her throat as he pulls down his pants, just enough for his cock to be set free and oh, it is just like her dreams but even better. 

 Nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight of Anakin Skywalker’s cock. Not even the wildest of her dreams could ever capture the essence of the art of Anakin Skywalker. He is handcrafted by the gods themselves— he is the physical embodiment of masterpiece. 

 He steps forward and towers over her, his breath like smoke rolling over her face. She peers up at him, her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. His hands find either side of her face and she stops breathing altogether, wondering what he will do next. 

 Then, “put your arms here,” he whispers, guiding her arms over his shoulder. “And hold on.”

 She squeals when he drops his hands to the undersides of her thighs, lifting her off the ground so that her ankles lock behind his back. Her arms tighten around his neck as he presses her back against the pillar, his chest pressed into hers. She can feel his length as it’s squeezed between either of their bodies and her walls clench around nothing, practically sobbing to feel him inside. 

 For a moment, the world stills around them and it’s like when she sees him in the audience during Padmé’s wedding. The night stirs and blurs until it’s dark watercolor, but Anakin is what she sees in high resolution. It’s the perfect mirage— she and Anakin feel like two stars in the middle of the black abyss above, forming their own little constellation. 

 And when Anakin finally slides himself inside of her, she feels like her place in the sea of stars has been cemented. She finally feels like she’s where she belongs.

a/n; SO! MY LONGEST IMAGINE YET.... may or may not have gotten a bit carried away (more like a little too wordy...) BUT! i really hope some of you enjoy and i truly appreciate anyone who reads this all the way through. i know 10k words is a lot 😭 also i hope this doesn’t seem too insta-lovey… this idea just came to me in a dream so i wrote what I dreamt lol

💫 if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

TAGLIST

@your-nanas-house

@chaoticevilbakugo

@k1ttenmittonz

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What Will Your FS Admire Most About You?

⚤ “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.” - Pablo Neruda

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, disregard any pronouns that do not apply to you.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✠ Pile One ✠ (King of Cups,Page of Cups,The World,7)

✧ Cards went wiillldddd. You stir up so much emotion in this person, it’s crazy. Your heart chakra is front and center here. You are picture-perfect harmony and universal love to your spouse. Your love can’t be contained, you love them, your friends, your favorite mug, worms out in the rain, strangers, the moon, and all the stars in the sky.

✧ All I see is a wide-ass smile, the biggest, wateriest eyes, and full cheeks. Your spouse thinks you’re sunshine-incarnated.

✧ This will sound corny, but your heart and love for the world and all its diversity make you appear angelic; God’s gift to humanity. The emotional depth you have is nothing shy of divine. Your ability to understand and reconnect your person with their inner dreamer makes you irreplaceable in their eyes. 

✧ I feel like your future spouse had to navigate around a lot of emotionally stunted people who left scars that prevented them from forming healthy relationships. Your empathy and desire to make space for peace and unity in this world give them hope that true love is alive and they are the lucky son of a bitch who gets to call an angel, theirs.

✧ I smell salt and hear waves. (I bet you’re tired of the cheesy poetry but HEY, me and your boo are OBSESSED with your energy) You truly are as beautiful and powerful as the seven seas.

✧ You know the Ouroboros, and how it's sometimes depicted as a snake wrapped around the oceans, holding onto its tail to keep the world together? Yea, that. To your future partner, you hold the key to their world. You add so much color and vibrancy. You turn over their inner ocean and awaken so much repressed child-like wonder within them.

✧ Wow. Your spouse loves the depths of you.

✧ Check for water placements, signs, and houses, in your natal chart. Some of you have insane intuition and have clairsenses. Clairaudience to be specific.

✧ Some of you are active in charities or aspire to make a difference in society. Maybe you’re into esoteric practices or anything else metaphysical.

✧ I even have a few philosophers here. Okay, KANT! (somebody please get this joke)

She Excites the Seven Seas

✠ Pile Two ✠ (Ace of Pentacles,8oW,The Emperor rev., “I Want”)

I love the kind of woman that will actually just kill me

✧ Of course, you don’t have to be a woman but that TikTok sound SCREAMED at me. Your future spouse is lowkey intimidated by you and they love it.

✧ You have big dreams. Big plans. But most importantly, a million and one ways to get you where you need to be. Your ability to say “I want this,” and then actually go out and GET it?? Your spouse is like the meme that goes “I’m a little scared, but I’m turned on.”

✧ I also see that you’re unconventional. If people have been doing whatever you want to do a certain way for years, you'll find ways to do it differently, just cause. You’re a true trailblazer. Your self-conviction is so damn alluring. Even for the people who struggle with insecurity sometimes, once you get over that hump and decide that you desire something, you fucking get it. Your partner sees you like magic. They are impressed by just how quickly your desires are set in motion for you. They feel that you are powerful and bring a great deal of power to them from just being in your proximity.

✧ You are also the “I don’t take shit from nobody” type. Not from strangers, not from your friends, your family, not even from your partner. In their eyes, you know your worth and have a strong self-foundation that nobody can tear down. There is genuine admiration and respect here. I even get the “I want to be like you when I grow up” mentality.

✧ There is a speediness to you they find very attractive. Either the way you behave, speak, or just stress about time, your pacing holds a special place in their heart. (or maybe, despite all of your responsibilities, you manage to find stillness in the chaos and slow down when necessary)

✧ The way you speak drives this person wild. It's like your voice narrates their thoughts and is the source of all of their arousal. Do with that information what you will...(don't be cruel, you make this person so nervous).

✧ I shuffled through a playlist and E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE!! by Corpse came on and one of the lyrics goes,

She just look into my soul with them Shinigami eye Coke in my nose and a blade on her thigh. Man, I think this girl is really trying to plan my demise

✧ Yea, you put the fear of God into this person, but in a good way! Your presence can be chilling sometimes. Fire energy for sure. There are definitely people here from pile 2 of my first pac, “What are your most alluring qualities?”, check that out if you want to.

✧ Okay, this energy has me needing to take a LAP, bye.

"Man, I Think This Girl Tryna Plan My Demise"

✠ Pile Three ✠ (10oW, 9oW)(no other cards wanted to come out, real stubborn)

✧ Okay so, this feels specific?... and maybe even a lil off topic but I feel called to say this

✧ I sense that you and your person are psychically connected and share the mutual feeling that the two of you are meant to cross paths. The both of you have gotten your fair share of fuckery in this lifetime and this union feels like divine justice.

✧ This sounds a little fucked up, but you guys flourish amid trauma. Dark energy alchmaziers. You best wield your potential while you’re going THROUGH it.

✧ You had to “die” and bury yourself a dozen times to get where you are today.

✧ You are a very evolved individual. Throughout your life, traumatic events and relationships have forced you to bear a lot of weight on your back and it’s like the pressure has forged you into a diamond. With each curveball life threw at you, you stood tall and pushed to make something of yourself, proving your worth after a lifetime of strife and instability.

✧ Scorpio/Capricorn and 8th house/10th house placements. (check midpoints).

✧ A lot of you have tense shoulders, upper back, shoulder, and neck pain from the unease and anxiety your body carries. You have insomnia and may even struggle with nightmares.

✧ This person you’re coming into union with is so healing.

✧ This is something the both of you broke down and prayed for on your darkest days. This is a true partner, the soul that kept yours warm when the world was so cold. You had to put your dreamier side on the back burner to survive. This person will make you feel safe to dream again.

✧ I don’t have anything specific to say because you and your person feel so secretive  You two recognize each other’s pain and are the only people you guys trust. Like not even lil ol’ me can really get through to y'all. Y’all ride AND die for each other, in this life and the next.

✧ If you’re into astrology and already have a feel for who this person is, check your guys’ composite chart. Strong Scorpio energy here.

✧ Coming into union with this person will feel like a wish fulfillment.

✧ (short pile, it felt like a quick message for those of you who feel this connection telepathically. This is probably a secondary choice.)

"I Want To Caress The Piece of Me Within You"

✠ Pile Four ✠ (Queen of Wands, 9oP rev., 7oP, 4oP rev., the high priestess, queen of cups, “I will”)

✧ You’re a bad bitch, truly. Your fs isn’t calling you a bitch, buuuttttt she a baddie, she know she a ten! She a baddie with her baddie…. wait a minute…

✧ You may not have a lot of friends? You keep your circle tight-knit because you have been deeply hurt in the past and you guard your peace fiercely. For some of you, your home life was quite tumultuous and you struggle with financial security and inner happiness. It seemed like the world did not want you to feel good about yourself or succeed.

✧ Do you know that viral display of a deer’s ribcage with a spear through it, and how even though an attempt was made on the deer’s life, he managed to survive and lived for years after that event; all while still growing bone marrow with a giant fucking spear through its ribcage?

✧ “A close encounter with a hunter left the deer with several broken ribs and part of an arrow embedded in its body. Remarkably, the animal survived, and bone grew around the shaft and arrowhead lodged in the creature's side."

✧ "The deer lived with the arrow inside its body until years later, when another hunter killed the animal, cut the deer open, and discovered its amazing secret…As the tough tissue formed over the arrow, it acted as a splint for the damaged rib cage, strengthening the deer's injured body.”

✧ I highlighted some words that needed emphasizing. That’s how your partner sees you. They are in complete awe of the resilience and sheer tenacity you hold. They look at you and can’t believe the person before their eyes. The troubling history you usually try to hide from your romantic partners is exactly what allures this person. 

✧ You won’t ever lay on your belly and cry about life passing you by. You aren’t the type to victimize yourself and “woe is me” your way out of self-improvement.

✧ You are quite ambitious and aim to push forward, even if the odds are stacked against you.

✧ I get the message that some people in this pile have struggled with self-harm over the years. Your partner wants to kneel down and kiss your scars like a white knight, and vow to protect you emotionally and physically for as long as you’ll have them.

✧ The spear-deer imagery is so interesting. The deer represents virality. It is a symbol of piety, gentleness, devotion, and fertility. Especially with the queen of wands, the high priestess, AND the queen of cups, you provide profound love, passion, and insight to this person. However, even as a deer, you are quite badass???

✧ You are as gentle as a strand of hair but as strong as wool. Dainty but unbreakable.

✧ They have no desire to infantilize you because they know you are already your own greatest warrior. But they don’t want you to feel that you have to fight alone. Whatever burdens are on your plate, they take away as much as possible because they want to be a piece of the paradise you fight for.

✧ This is meant to be a short pac, a Tumblr post won’t do the unbelievable strength in your character much justice. Just know that your fs is so fucking in love with you and wants to spend their life by your side because of just how awe-struck they are by you.

✧ I mean c’mon… will YOU ever forget the story of the coolest fucking deer in existence??

"I Yearn To Be the Name You Call Out in Victory"

[cupidlovesastro]

𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 #𝟏𝟓 (𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

earth sun, moon, venus, or dominant people can have a love for nature as a whole, the animals, the plants, the sky, etc

water sun, moon venus, or dominant people have an attraction to lakes, rivers, oceans, ponds, rain, etc. they may even have a love for sea animals

fire sun, moon, venus, or dominant’s love the sun, summer time, drier weather, lava, campfires, etc

air sun, moon, venus, or dominant’s love the air, the sky, clouds, the stars, space, birds, butterflies, moths, etc

sagittarius in big 6 or stellium individuals are very free spirited and love being adventurous. they are very open minded and try to hear all perspectives

aquarius in big 6 or stellium people have a need for freedom and independence. they don’t like being tied down or held back

inner planets in the 6th house or 6h stelliums can have a love for animals and living creatures in general

uranus in the 1h means you are openly rebellious and go against the societal stereotypes. you question the rules and push boundaries while also being humanitarians

taurus in 2h can shows that you value the physical things in life. taurus is also an earth sign, meaning you enjoy the feelings of grass, the sound of the water, the smell of flower, etc

venus in 2h means that you value music, love, peace, and harmony

venus in 11h can show that you enjoy being around groups of people who share a love for the desire of peace, love, and music

uranus in 9h means that you go against the culture, the worlds views, and beliefs

aquarius moons/ uranus aspecting moon people find comfort through the rebellion and change

aquarius mars/ uranus aspecting mars people have a deep passion for change, especially when it comes to betterment of society. they are willing to take the risk if it means creating a difference

𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤

8h stellium- lots of sexual activity happening, people feeling deeply connected, dark things happening

8h sun- one of the thing that woodstock is notoriously known for at its core, is the amount of people engaging in sexual activities

uranus is 9h- going against social norms, the law, religions, the american culture at that time

mars in 11h- groups of people being aggressive, sexual, violent. also passion about their hopes, dreams, wishes, and the future

neptune in 11h- idealizing the idea of people being all together and groups of people being delusional and easily impressionable

pluto in 8h- lots of karmic energy, people wanting sexual power fama conjunct eros- famous for sexual activity

jupiter conjunct uranus- large amounts of rebellion, lots of unpredictable behavior/events, growth through change

mercury sextile venus- communicating love, peace, and harmony instead of war

makemake conjunct sun- woodstock was made to make a change to the idea of war and violence and was known as an attempt to protect the environment and idea of peace

vesta conjunct venus- love, music, harmony, was what kept people going during woodstock. they were devoted to their beliefs of peace

fama conjunct venus- famous for being about music, love, peace, harmony, etc

makemake opposite karma- although wood stock was an attempt to restore and maintain peace. it took a turn for the worse and lead to many horrible incidents

[rainworldhourly]

[grunckle]

On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.

One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.

For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.

He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.

“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”

But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.

So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.

The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.

"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.

"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."

You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.

We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.

"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."

And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!

So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.

For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.

But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.

You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.

For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.

For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.

But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.

And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.

"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."

Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...

[just-some-user-hunny]

Balerion bonded to bastard! Reader

~ In this Scenario, Balerion is still alive and breathing- albeit barely, and with little enthusiasm. He'd remain still in the sand, seafoam lapping at his scales, yet he feels little reason to move. He's old. Ancient, and tired. The rise and fall of his breath is gradual and laboured- slow like the moving tide. Ever since Viserys drew his last breath, Balerion felt as cold as the sea. His days of glory and war are memories grown old, and he is tired. He feels like sleeping forever now, listening to the faint call of seagulls and the noise of crashing tides.

~ Bastard! princess reader captures glimpses of him from her windows view, watching the old beast wither and fade upon the beach like he were a memory fizzling away into the seafoam. At first glimpse through the rain speckled glass pane- she had mistaken him for a large mountain of black rock.

~ now she's frightened, but, intrigued. She is still a child, a scared and desperate one, so she hatches a plan to reach the beach and perhaps ask the dragon nicely if he'd take her back home. (Besides, dragons do look scary, but Caraxes was nice to her. Maybe he'll be nice too?)

~ like a slippery little mouse, one day she escapes during dinnertime. Fueled to seek out the dragon after a one-sided argument with Daemon across the table. Whilst the servants and knights searched the castle grounds for her, she finds herself on the coastline, and beelines towards the mountain of a dragon, Balarion. She doesn't know who he is, all that he's a dragon. Dragons have wings. They can fly. He could take her home, away from these mad people.

~ her courage burns like a wavering candle, tears streaming down her face in distraught and desperation. The sounds of dragons roaring in the dragon pit fizzle her blood, she can hear the troubled songs of Caraxes and syrax in the distance, and it stirs her on to waken the sleeping dragon. Despite her little trembling hands and accelerated heartbeat.

~ Balarion is awoken- disturbed at the sound of a sobbing child. It is such an odd and peculiar sound to his ears, it startles him enough to raise his heavy head from the sand and look down upon a child he has never seen before. Inhaling deeply, he also doesn't recognise their scent. But there is some trace of dragon blood within her.

~ "excuse me, can you take me home? I need to go home, my mummy is there!". She proclaims as loudly as she can. As clearly as her choked up voice allows her.

~ Balarion feels himself grow soft at the sight of the little child- as soft as a dragon can be.

~ He blinks slowly at her, gently lowering his head to move closer. The sudden bravery of a mere child to approach him intrigues him greatly, and a rejuvenation overtakes his body. Suddenly his aching body doesn't feel so tired anymore- his stiffly folded wings that once enveloped the moon, suddenly feel spry and strong.

~ like a mountain unearthing itself from the earth, his massive body groaned and shuddered like a rolling thunderstorm- lifting from the cold evening sand and bubbling salty seafoam. The little girl stumbles backwards clumsily, afraid that maybe she has just prodded a sleeping angry beast, but she is met with no fire or teeth. this large, monstrously large dragon, is bowing his head to her. Like a mighty stag would do for a little fawn.

~ anxious- and brimming with excitement, her hands clasp upon the rough black scales of the sides of his neck. She climbs higher and higher, until she finds herself clambering onto the back of the beast, where an ancient and worn saddle remains. Roughly woven rope that has seen better days, and a simple leather seat awaits before her- and she climbs on.

~ her whole world seems to tilt and shift, like the earth was moving right beneath her feet as Balarion rises with a steady and heavy rumble. The stars are glittering above in the skies, and the cool evening air laps at the waves till they form foamy hills of white upon the dark sapphire waters. her heart is beating loudly and wildly in her chest now, her blood fizzling like lightning, and she stares across the ocean with determination soaring inside her. she's on the dragon now, and he seems eager to fly.

~ grappling the worn thick reins between her small hands, she recalls a word that the pale haired man called out to his crimson scaled dragon before he took off into the sky. The word is foreign, and doesn't quite suit the roll of her tongue. But she speaks it, a command that holds no hesitation.

~ "Sōvēs!".

~ Bastard! Princess had risen high into the sky, clutching for dear life upon the reigns that were held so tight in her hands, her knuckles had turned pale. The wind rushed and soared, and her ears felt like they had popped as they ascended higher and higher across the sea. Balerions' wings were unsheathed like the night sky as they beat against the wind, and although his body was aching and old, he was not brittle or weak.

Salt air rushed over her face like a splash of icy water as they flew over the ocean, and she watched the castle grow smaller and smaller as the wind carried them away.

~ they flew and flew, but Balarion grew weary from the sudden flight, and turned back towards the shoreline. Bastard! princess was at a loss of what to do- for her own stomach was churning at the realisation that she didn't know where she was trying to go. The old dragon seemed to also sense that, and made the decision for the both of them to head back towards the cold stone castle.

~ Awaiting upon the shoreline, was a small army of armoured men, and the white haired man, who wore an astounded expression. His eyes wide, and jaw slack in what could only be described as euphoric horror. The king, Viserys, despite his weak and brittle body, had ordered to be escorted outside to see with his very own eyes as to what was happening. They had heard the uproar of Balerions' wings from within the castle, Daemon had at once thought a sudden hurricane had hit amidst his search for the little girl he had stolen away, haste in his step as Rhaenyra attempted to sternly reason with him - until the unmistakable shrill deep noise of rumbling dragon-song erupted in the distance like thunder. Both adults stilled- their expressions still and astounded.

~ it was until the sudden and panicked cry of a knight that confirmed everyones hesitant thoughts.n

~ "Balerion the black dread has arisen! And the princess is with him!"

~ that was all Daemon needed to hear before he bounded for the exit. With haste.

~ Balerion had returned to the beach, just as the knights had suspected. They fell speechless at the sight of such a large and imposing dragon land back upon the sandy coastline, his energy low, but not gone.

~ Viserys was in utter disbelief, and excitement. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He had believed he would be the last rider of Balerion the black dread- the last targaryen to mount the beast that once was ridden by Aegon the conqueror, and many other infamous names.

~ The princess's little head of hair and frightful eyes peered down from her towering view upon the dragons back- eyeing the army of knights. Balerion grumbled a growl so low and frightening, it rattled the knights bones in their bodies. Their braced weapons could only serve as emotional support against such a beast.

~ "Dohaeras! Balerion!" Viserys roared in his deep and broken voice, his command did not hold as much power as it used to- but Balerion acknowledged it with an absentminded glance.

~ Eventually, through carefully worded coos and reassurances from young frightened handmaids that beckoned towards the bastard princess- she yielded. Wordlessly, Balarion lowered his head and allowed her to clamber down. Right into the shaking arms of a young woman in servants cloth, who had stood so close to the dragon, she felt her skin take heat and sweat profusely. The frightened and frustrated little girl was exhausted, and hungry. She has eaten very little earlier, picking at breadcrumbs like a little bird, and sipping only a little water. Her head lolled helplessly into the crook of the maiden's neck, weak and tired. the anxious woman backed away quickly.

~ Half asleep, and very upset, the little princess was placed into Rhaenyras' awaiting out-stretched arms. Her own little boys gathered around her like lambs as she petted the girl's back to comfort her. She fell limp, and asleep not too long after, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

~ Balerion watched them closely as they took his new little rider back up to the castle, even following as close as he could reach whilst still on the sand.

~ Viserys was white faced and trembling, a wry smile on his face, whilst Daemon was left expressionless. His palm cradled at the handle of his sword, troubled.

~ "The black dread yielded to her word Daemon- I had not thought that was possible". Viserys muttered.

~ "Neither did I". Daemon uttered back. His voice was even, and calm, yet his eyes held a thousand yard stare.

~ This was not supposed to happen. She was so young- and now with the black dread within her command? There was no saying of what may happen.

To be continued...