I was here lady antebellum lyrics

Hey guys! I live in the Frisco/Plano area and I was wondering if any of y’all lived around here? I’m just getting into e-boarding and I’d love to organize a meet, or even get some sort of group going!! Thank you!

Tonight I was feeling really lonely thinkin about you again..like I always do. I've cried my eyes out so much i can barely see. So..I went outside and I counted the stars, laid down on the trampoline like I used to. And now I count stars alone. And I'm thinking of what could have been. ...I know in our last talk we said goodbye. But god..I wish you were here. Tonight I wanted to try to call you again because i love you so much but I know it's bad for me. But.
....
I miss watching the stars with you. You were my everything. You were my star. You were the reason why I fought hard every day. And every star that sparks up in the sky reminds me of you. I know I closed things off with you..but..We may never meet again, but we will never forget eachother. ...
I...
Love..
You....
I've always loved you.
My little star.

I’ve played every need for speed in the series, none have come close to the Forza Horizon series. My opinion might be unpopular but I feel as if NFS Heat was the NFS series’ final hope because Unbound is utter GARBAGE. That being said I know that FH4 is better than FH5, thé content was better, not like the lackluster hot wheels content which anyone only ever bought to get the extra festival playlist points easier in my opinion. But the reason I like Forza Horizon so much more than need for speed is because it feels like a celebration for cars, because it is! I love thé idea of having a big ass festival strictly to celebrate cars. One could argue that the cops being in need for speed brings it over Forza, but I would rather a festival like atmosphere strictly for cars than to just try and not get busted. I don’t know how « in line » my views are with others on here but I as a PC Forza player, FH5 is good and I want to accustom myself more with the series, so I’ll be getting FH4 soon! Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

I have 3yo Russian Bolonka bitch. She is from a good quality breeder and has her health tests done. She has had successful litter and easy mating before. She is very good mama. I planned to breed her this spring.
Her vulva git swollen 8th of March, that is 14 days ago. The bleeding started 14th of March, that's 8 days ago. She is playful and flirty and eager for male company.
I have this beautiful sire over. He came at Monday night. It is Wednesday morning now. First my girl was snapping at him and didn't let even sniff the back end. Next day she let him sniff, lick and mount for a little moment. The stud is experienced and does not push if the bitch says no.
The thing is, the stud is not very eager to try. Maybe it is not the right time, but my girl has offered him the butt and flagged. He barely tries.
So I am just little heartbroken and would like to know, is there anything I can do? They play together and sleep together (with pants on so that I will be assisting if they mate). My girl is super friendly to him and even affectioned. But mating, nope.
Any advice? I didn't take the blood test, because the stud could come only on Monday forward anyhow. He is beautiful, graceful, calm and friendly, around 5-6yo.
It is like my girl is teasing him a lot but jumpy when he tries to mount.
I feel like giving up, thought the stud will stay here more days. He seems tired.

I’ve got bp2, currently hypomanic and can’t turn my brain off at the moment. I’m hoping getting this question out of my head will stop it from spinning around so much.
I was wondering what other people’s experiences are with (hypo)mania and autism? Any good/bad stories? What’s your oveunder stimulation like when manic? I’m under stimulated normally, and it just gets worse the more hypomanic I get. Like, I’m lying here in bed on my stomach, knees bent 90 degrees, slamming my ankles together. Part bored, part trying to feel something I think. That resonate with anyone?
I also struggle with imposter syndrome a touch, both with bp2 and autism. Seems like every other week is a new reason to think the opposite of last week. When I’m hypo though, there’s no denying it. But when I’m one, (depression or mania), it’s like I can’t even fathom what the other side of it feels like. Like I’ve never been depressed/manic before. Except of course when I get bored, start ruminating, and flip a switch from happy to real sad real quick. I can def control it more when manic, but it’s not like I flip to manic when depressed; I’m just always depressed. But I feel “lighter”, and my masking is almost effortless right now.
Anyway, turned into a bit of a data dump, but again, bored, sleepless and all that. Thanks for reading.

Im crying out my eyes i feel like i lost my teenhood because i wasn’t able to come out when i was like 10 years younger i knew my parents would be everything but supportive due to their religious beliefs, so i bit my tooth until i was old enough to get therapy started and i did everything alone i had literally NO support when i started to get the psychological medical reports i needed in my country to start hrt and i really feel like im missing something i would have loved to have a supportive best female friend but life didn’t proceeded me with that opportunity Im on hrt since February 14 this year and i feel so much better than before but that kind of feeling that i lost something that i will never be able to get back, i don’t think it will ever go away and that kills me inside
Sorry just crying out my soul here Thanks for reading tho Much love

I literally cannot process this...so I'm going to post it on here.
Couple of months ago, a guy from my job asked if I wanted to hook up with him. I don't usually do hookups, but I did like this guy, so I said why not? We hooked up shortly after this and have hooked up maybe two or three other times since then. We talk almost every day, but it's mostly just normal conversations.
Today, I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was "at the hospital". I asked him why and he responded "Kid." There are only two things that came to mind when he said "Kid", and that was either an abortion, or that he was having one. I asked him to elaborate, and he told me that he was having a kid. I told my friend, and she couldn't process it either. She told me to ask him if he knew and he said that he did.
I hooked up with this guy less than two weeks ago, and at no point of any of our conversations did he tell me that he was having a kid or that he was maybe in a relationship. So, I did some digging through his following list and found the girl who had his kid. She seems really nice, but I can't really tell someone's personality from a picture. I don't want to ask her if she's in a relationship with him because she might tell him that I asked. The guy is nowhere to be found in her likes, or posted anywhere on her profile, and vice versa. So I assume that there not dating, or at least in a private relationship. Then again, if your relationship was private, you wouldn't have posted the baby on your story. My assumption is that they're not dating at all.
I genuinely liked this guy, and it hurts me to see that he will probably see me as nothing more than a hookup. It weirds me out how he was hooking up with people knowing there's a girl out there pregnant with his kid. I'm not going to say that its wrong for him to hook up with people knowing he had a kid on the way because I'm not really sure. I'm not sure if he's in a relationship either. I probably should've asked him that...what do you guys think?

I moved here last year bc I was living in a depressing place and now I feel kinda guilty honestly. The housing situation for renters is horrible and I feel like I'm part of the problem now. To clarify: I have a job and am paying for myself so at least I'm not a freeloader. I just honestly didn't realise how high the population density in Bristol is. When you look stuff up online about Bristol, what you're shown is basically all to do with how great Bristol is (which it definitely is btw), you don't immediately see the problems it has with housing and such.

Hello! Posting here before my doctors appointments because I'm just feeling a bit worried about it and would love to hear other people's experiences and perspectives.
I started 150 wellbutrin XL towards the end of August 2022. I was going through an extremely traumatic and stressful time in my life, and it helped tremendously for a few weeks. Then one day, I forgot to take it, and after that it became a habit to not take it at the right time or at all. I began to feel restless, and started drinking so much that I was afraid I was becoming an alcoholic. I ended up becoming a regular at some local bar in a shitty town and got involved with people I usually wouldn't, while engaging in toxic behaviors and constantly fighting with an ex of mine. It got so bad one day that my best friend had to take me to the hospital because I was experiencing the worst depression of my life. I was inpatient for around a week, and they prescribed me 10mg of lexapro along with my wellbutrin.
A little while after I got out, my psychiatrist increased my dosage to 300. I've been taking that since the end of December. Since the increase, I have felt so happy. So hopeful. So good. I stopped drinking, I stopped associating with toxic people I felt addicted to, etc. I haven't missed a dose or felt depressed or restless at all and have been more motivated and hopeful overall.
I've always been a spiritual person, and believed in things such as the law of attraction/manifestation, astrology etc. Recently, I've been trying to use manifestation as a tool to help me achieve my goals and writing down the things I'm grateful for every day. I listen to music that has affirmations in them, and have integrated them into my art as well. I genuinely feel like things are going to well for me in my personal, spiritual, creative, and business life.
Although I've been feeling so wonderful, I am starting to become afraid that I am slipping into or have been in a hypomanic episode. I've only experienced depression before, whether subtle or prominent, so I'm not really used to feeling this way for so long. Recently I haven't been able to sleep at night or stay asleep. I've been sleeping maybe 4-6 hours a night, while waking up in between. I feel a little tired throughout the day, but still have some energy (not enough to clean my entire house or anything usually). I have been feeling very confident lately, as I've started to dress the way I always wanted to, and I've been creating art that is well loved and doing in person markets while making new connections. I feel magnetic. I feel beautiful. I feel like I can tell when someone finds me attractive. I feel like I have amazing energy that causes people to gravitate towards me.
While I'm concerned about the lack of sleep and confidence, I am mostly concerned about the fact that I shoplifted an entire cart of groceries/clothes/home decor today. I had been reading up on it a lot recently, and I decided that I just wanted to do it. I didn't do it because I needed to or to sell the items, I think I just did it because I wanted some new things or for the thrill or because I'm tired of large corporations being so greedy. I just put everything in my cart, and walked out the door confidently. No one (that I noticed) looked at me any way or followed me or seemed suspicious. I assume because the entire time I acted like I wasn't doing anything wrong.
I don't necessarily feel morally guilty about it (although I'm prepared for the comments about why I probably should), it was nice to finally be able to get some new things for myself after working so hard, going through so much trauma, and having to put all of my money towards bills/back into my business. I'm not really afraid of getting caught because I know the laws, I know how their security works, I know the process of convicting someone for theft from that specific store (I used to work there years ago). I know the whole deal with the building a case until you hit a felony amount of money etc. So it's not like I did this impulsively without any prior knowledge or anything.
Anyways, sorry for such a long post, I just wanted to include everything so that you guys can get a better perspective. I'm just wanting to know if the lack of sleep could just be caused by the increased energy from the wellbutrin, if my confidence really is just the result of using positive affirmations and utilizing the law of attraction, and if me shoplifting really was just a one time thing and result of me wanting to 'treat' myself after working so hard and essentially being fed up with capitalism.
...or if all of these things really do indicate hypomania, and if I should be worried. I really want things to continue going well for me, I want to continue feeling good and better about myself and creating meaningful art and being in tune with myself spiritually. I'm trying to be as self aware as possible so I can hopefully prevent myself from slipping into any destructive behaviours again.

So, here I am. I don't really know what to write for this, a friend suggested I come out so I can be a little more confident about myself. So, I will start from the beginning. I'm a 21 year old closeted trans woman (born male). I tried to come out when I was 15 to my parents and to some of my friends but ass soon as I came out to them they all just turned their back to me and treated me like some evil/taboo yokai. My parents harassed me whenever I tried to cross-dress saying "get that shit off" or treating me like a human and acting really shitty towards me. Most of my friends weren't that different either. So, I decided to ultimately go back into the closet to try and preserve whatever relationship I had with my family and friends. That leads me to today. I hardly have anyone in my life now that cares about me and how I feel. I feel like I'm a failure to my parents for not being the man they wanted but I just cant go on in a limbo like this. I need to pass as a woman one day even if it is for a second before I die so I can finally feel happiness again. I don't know what I want to ask from this community but probably help. I've failed my life because I wasn't born in the right body and I dont know how to make things like they were before. My friend says I need to believe in myself but somedays I cant justify giving myself the privilege to be happy because I feel like I don't deserve it. I really want to cry on someone's shoulder at least while the last spreads of hope I had for being happy are ultimately going away and I don't know how to fix myself.

I need closure and wonder if there's a psychologist out there who might be able and willing help? After a lengthy marriage, my ex surprised everyone by starting a divorce and approaching it in the most horrid way. That is over, thankfully, but it cost me tons in legal fees, his behavior was erratic and frightening at times, and it all seemed to confirm what I've long thought: his therapy appointments haven't been just for stress. Rather, it seems to me and some family members that he probably has known that he has one or more serious mental health diagnoses that he has never disclosed to me or our kids.
I hope this isn't improper, I am at my wits' end in many ways and just trying to feel safer and better prepared to grow and move onto happiness and joy myself. If you are a psychologist willing to give me your thoughts on an informal, unofficial basis, just to help me cope with what may lie ahead, please DM me.
Please Note -- I am not seeking therapy for myself. I am seeking concise, limited scope guidance and a better understanding about which general type of diagnosis am I dealing with here. Thank you.

This has been a secret of mine for a long time now, I just want to air it out a bit.
I've suspected that I (25F) could be asexual (maybe demi/gray) for probably 10 years now. I've gone back and forth on it, thinking certain experiences mean I was wrong, but I keep coming back here.
It all started in high school. I've always desired a relationship with a male identifying person. I had plenty of crushes and was very interested in dating. But I felt I was different from my friends. They would show each other pictures of shirtless muscley men, or go watch the boys basketball team and scream and swoon over how hot they are, but I never understood. Seeing a shirtless man never made me feel anything. My friends thought I was weird, and I thought they were weird. I preferred the romantic side to relationships. But I also did have a "type" and enjoyed men for how they looked. But it was never sexual, just aesthetic ally pleasing.
I got my first boyfriend at 18. I loved him, but I never had any sexual feelings or desires to sleep with him. We dated for a year and I never did anything sexual with him because I felt uncomfortable.
For many years I struggled with what I called a "penis phobia". They really freaked me out, and thinking about seeing or touching one made my heart race (not in the good way). Though eventually I did get over it.
I lost my virginity at 21. This is where I started to believe I wasn't asexual. I had sex and even enjoyed it. I felt some attraction. But since then it's disappeared. I've been with the same man (different one) for the last 5 years. The relationship was sexual in the first year (when everything was new and exciting) but now I don't really feel any sexual desire or attraction at all. It's kinda like once I experienced it and learned what it was all about I lost my excitement. I had a few relationships in my early 20s where I did feel an attraction, sexual desire, and I did engage in activities that I enjoyed. But now it's all gone away again.
For a short while sex didn't bother me, but now I'm back to sex making me uncomfortable. Im uncomfortable with nudity, my own and others. I don't like being touched in sexual areas but I force myself to relax so my partner can get some enjoyment. I hate kissing on the lips. I think it's slobbery and gross. Being eaten out is so uncomfortable, I get no pleasure from it at all. I feel uncomfortable and anxious just talking about it. I've tried hard to get over it, but I've also come to the conclusion that why should I change so other people will like me.
However, the one place I do experience sexual desire for is my vibrator. I can think about my vibrator and get turned on just by thinking about it. That's never happened to me for any relationship or human male.
I've also experienced sexual attraction and arousal to men and women online, like social media influencers. Sometimes I'll masturbate to them. Which I find particularly odd because I have never felt that way about a real life male or female. Because of this I've also wondered if I'm bisexual. I think women certain women are beautiful and attractive. However, I don't desire a relationship with a woman, or to have sex with a woman. I also have never felt that way about a woman I've met in real life.
I find it interesting that I've experienced sexual attraction to things that aren't real people (sex toys and online figures). As far as I know, I don't have any sexual trauma.
I know my discomfort and disinterest in sexual activities are hallmarks of asexuality, which is why I keep coming back to it. But yet that I've experienced it briefly in my past makes me question it.
I've only had two sexual partners and I've been with the same man the last 5 years. I often wonder if I just haven't met the right person, but I am very happy in my relationship and I have no reason to feel unsafe or insecure.
Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

I'm not sure if this is okay to post here but I wrote this to help me with some sad emotions I was going through. Tell me if you liked it!
Have you ever felt like you were, devoid of emotion, carefulness, dedication, love, attention, direction?
In the eyes of the world
it's a state of emotion that all humans have felt since the dawn of love
it's funny to think that my problems are so little
I am so small, insignificant
in a state of wishful existence
in a world of blissful ignorance
after leaving the gates of childhood, the door behind eternally locked by time
and that's when I wonder
is my life emotionless? careless? lazy? hateful? ignorant? unguided?
do these emotions ever disappear? or do they simply change?
Is there a veil before my eyes? is my questioning misinformed by the cadence of my hormones?
emotion is the state of my body that tells me how to feel.
the feeling to care of her
the feeling of wanting to stay by her side
the feeling of impatience
the feeling of butterflies fleeting
the feeling to be noticed
the feeling before going on an adventure
it's all too much for me.
I sit here and wait for a savior
the one that my hormones chose
the one that my brain decided
the one that my heart demanded
exasperated, I sigh in relief
trying to subdue the feeling
I tell my friends
I want to sleep
I want to never wake up
But I also tell them
see you tomorrow
see you next week
bye!
And sometimes I wonder if that's the last thing I will say to them
wishing for it to be over
this feeling
this common chemical reaction
it feels so special
but at the same time, it's not.

So since my son was born, my MIL has given us some parenting advice. Not all bad, like to make sure to do lots of skin to skin. But some stuff has been a little crazy. Like give the baby chamomile tea for gas, or put a wet piece of wadded up paper on babies forehead for hiccups. She tries to insist we bundle the baby up. We were at her house a few months ago and she kept saying my son was crying because he was cold. It was 75 degrees in her house and he was red and sweaty. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt and pants and a hat because it was cold outside but I stripped him down to his diaper because she had the heat up so high. We went out to eat a few nights ago and she was flipping out because he wasn't wearing a hat. It was 50 degrees and we had a literal 30 second walk from the car to the restaurant. She kind of chased me around with his blanket even after I told her he was fine. I didn't give in. It's just annoying! Her only other grandchildren are from her own daughter who was 16 when she had her first. She did a bunch if stuff that those parents didn't like with her grandchildren but the parents are too young and respectful to say anything i guess. Im in my 30s. I keep hearing how it's my turn to hear it from her. Am I crazy for not appreciating the advice? I ask for her advice when I need it but I hate how she keeps on insisting on certain things. I also let my baby eat and get pretty dirty and just clean him up all at the end. She keeps trying to wipe him after each bite which he hates. She's an older hispanic lady. Can anyone tell me how to put my foot down without offending her? Is there even a way to go about it respectfully or will she just be offended either way?

I am the 'head protector' of the system as I like to call myself. These last few months have been a real rollercoaster as we discovered that we are probably at least plural (definitely past childhood trauma) and then an alter outing us within the first few weeks of realization and then some shit surrounding parents and not believing us.
I have been thinking about how to say this for a while, but here I am. I don't know how to say this other than this is very confusing and we honestly don't know if we're lying to ourselves or not. When we went to see a psychiatrist with our parents about this she said it like it was something like DID without expressly pointing DID out as an option. Just that "there are fragments that need to be put back together."
Some days it feels right. Like this is us, and we are really here. Other times it genuinely feels like we're just faking it and we honestly don't know why. We've been put on anxiety medication by our parents with them hoping it would "calm the voices" despite us just knowing that each other exists and that won't do shit. (It's been 3 weeks and nothing has changed.)
Ever since we first suspected that we had this, it was like floodgates opened as we went from a system of 5 to 20 in 2 months or so. I don't even know if this tells anything about us. We've tried to go about life as if nothing had happened a couple of times but it feels impossible now that we know.
I just want to get this out there. I don't know if I'm confusing this with something else, but it feels as real as it can get. I'm just looking for general feedback and to be pointed in any direction really. Anything will be appreciated. If anyone wants elaboration or wants to know more I'll see if we feel up to making a new post or smth like that.

I have applied to Toronto Metropolitan University wanting to transfer here as a new applicant coming from college. I was wondering if I were to failed or not do so well on a course while currently doing in college will that affect my admission to getting in. and also do they look mainly on your high school grades than your college grades

i’ve never been so upset in my life as i have been today. i’m on spring break and my dad left me home alone while he was at work. we have a dog, she’s a pretty big pit bull and a lot of people think she’s mean, but she’s just energetic. today i let her into the back just as i would any other day. i heard her jumping on the fence, which she already put a small hole in but it wasn’t anything that’d concern us too much. obviously we were going to get it fixed. so i went into the back to bring her inside and tell her not to do that. she wasn’t coming to me when i called her over, so i followed her to probably grab her and bring her inside. then she jumped though the fucking fence. i panicked and ran inside so i could grab her from the front, she want over to the neighbors yard. she bit the shit out of my neighbors wife, three fucking times. once on the arm, leg, and hand. she bit her really bad on the hand and that was all i saw. i didn’t see her attacking her but her husband was yelling at my dog and saying she bit his wife. i genuinely couldn’t believe it. i was having trouble grabbing her because she wasn’t wearing a collar, but he was yelling at me to grab her and i was apologizing. she bled all over the place, even getting some on my dog. she’s never done this before, even after her husband came out she was being all playful, same thing for when i brought her back inside. they immediately drove off and i was panicking. nothing like this has ever happened before, genuinely. i had this ladies blood on my hand, and that disturbed me so much. the first thing i did was call my dad. i was crying, i still am. he got home from work and waited until they came back. obviously they don’t feel safe with her around so the only option is to get rid of her, they have a young daughter and what if she breaks through their fence? it’s get rid of the dog or face some legal trouble according to my dad. i know they don’t feel safe and i feel so bad, but i don’t wanna get rid of her. she’s been with me for what feels like my entire life, but it’s been about 5-6 years. she was there with me through my parents divorce, she sleeps with me at night, she’s there when i cry about whatever and keeps me warm. it’s unfortunate but this was something i immediately realized when i took her back inside after what happened. the neighbors feel bad, but it’s fine, i understand why this needs to happen. i just don’t want her to go, i love my pets, they mean the world to me. this is my last night with her, tomorrow around 2pm is when my dad is taking her to the pound. to be honest, i don’t think she knows she did anything wrong, but i can only imagine how she’s going to feel when my dad drops her off and she never sees us again. we’ve had her since she was a baby, and now she has to go.

You Matter to Her in a Way No One Else Could
When you died and were reborn, you became divine. You were love, and you were violence, and you were my miracle. A God sprung forth from the decaying machinery of your broken body. Koishi, the God of Love and Hate—have mercy on us all.
Down by the shore of one of the great Lunar seas, there sat a lonely shack thatched with feathers. Inside, there was a massive wani no less than eight leagues long… and her infant son. To that crocodile who had never known true familial love, that delicate little child—who cooed and smiled at his mother’s every move—was nothing less than a miracle. Such a delicate life in her claws, who knew nothing but unconditional love for his mother—to the crocodile, it was proof there was still good in the world.
She was tired, but the crocodile forced herself to stay awake. There was something she needed to do—a memory she wanted to share with the most important person in her life.
So, with all the caution and tenderness in the world, she picked up her child with her jaws and coaxed him into her throat pouch. The newborn child, perhaps having some shared instinct with his crocodilian mother, did not cry or struggle. Instead, he let out a giggle as he poked his head out from between his mother’s jagged teeth. With a snort, the dragon climbed out of her thatch hut, and crawled along the shore, drawing a meandering trail in the sand as she went.
When she reached the point where the water came to shore in gentle waves, the crocodile set herself down in the sand, letting the waves wash in and lick at her child in gentle sprays. Her child giggled as the Lunar sea’s tickled him with its pure waters, and as he did, his mother couldn’t help but feel at peace.
Nothing. Nothing at all would be able to take this from her.
Her miracle.
Toyohime opened her eye to clear blue skies.
She flexed her fingers, and instead of feeling the cold steel of the ship she started to tear apart, she felt so many tiny pebbles, warmed by their time in the sun. Sand? She brought a fistful of the stuff into her vision, before letting it fall through her fingers and run down her face. It was too real to be a dream.
Toyohime sat up to observe her surroundings. As far as the eye could see, there were infinite stretches of sand collected into wind-swept dunes that obscured the horizon. It was hot. Unbelievably so for what was supposedly the void. She felt a gentle gust of warm wind pass by her and toss her hair. This place… this impossible place… was she dead?
She rose to her feet, fighting biting aches and pains from her battle not too long ago. No—not dead. Somehow, she had survived—there was no other explanation. And as she looked down to assess the damage she had taken, her suspicions were only confirmed. Her right arm was missing, and in its place was nothing but a healed stump. The nasty cuts and bruises she had received in the fighting had all healed over for the most part, the only evidence they happened at all being residual scars that were yet to disappear. The ground was covered in dried blood. She must’ve been laying here in this sand trap for hours.
She brought her free arm, completely healed, up to the general space where her right eye was to find an arrow still protruding from it. Wrapping her fingers around the shaft, Toyohime tore it out in a fluid motion, causing the wound to reopen and drip blood onto the sands below. But, through some miraculous action, it was mere moments before the flow of blood stopped as the wound healed shut. Her right eye was still inoperable, but this healing ability was downright uncanny, even for a god.
She flexed her fingers. It felt like there was a hole in her head from which memories and feelings poured out. The mystery of how she got here, who she killed, and whether she could even trust her own senses had no answer—Toyohime knew she herself had made sure of that. She supposed there was a good reason. The less she knew, the better. That was something she could trick herself into believing.
Though no matter how much she forced herself to forget, she had the horrible feeling she had done something unforgivable—something she would kill over. In a sea of atrocities however, she could hardly even begin to suppose what that might have been. Maybe the heat was starting to fry her brain.
After spending a few minutes snapping the arrows lodged in her body by their shafts, Toyohime looked to the horizon, and then up. Ahead, there was a massive sand dune, no less than five times her height, and beyond the crest—a black pillar of smoke. Toyohime was not alone.
As she made her way up the shifting incline, Toyohime got to thinking about her next course of action. If this wasn’t a hallucination, then it most certainly had to be some extension of Koishi's will. Land in an impossible space… the creation of something impossible like that could only be a factor of a deteriorating mind, or God. And Toyohime had no time to consider the possibility of a crumbling psyche—not when she had a duty left unfulfilled.
But then… that would mean this was the paradise of Koishi’s mind. Surely, by her side is where she would find her salvation. She had already come to terms with it—that there was nothing left for her in the old world. Koishi could pervert and corrupt reality in whatever twisted ways she wanted—as long as it was the creation of her heart, it would be sufficient. Everything beyond that was not worth saving to the former princess.
… But that also meant there would be more enemies. More people she had to kill. She was ready. Ready to kill and ready to die in the name of love.
And as she planted her boot upon the peak of that sand dune, she saw the whole world become bare before her. A fair distance away was the crashed wreck of a golden ship, releasing plumes of black smoke as it burnt away. From this distance, it was difficult to make out any finer details, but she was sure the occupants had escaped. Satori was resourceful and stubborn, if nothing else. Dying in a crash was an impossibility.
She then traced a line from the ship through the shifting sands—to a city upon the horizon. Massive towers of glass and steel pushing against the sky, half buried in the sand, bending light around them as they reflected the intense heat of the sun. It gave the sight an unnatural fuzziness, as if the city was threatening to disappear at any moment.
As she traced the decaying visage of those buildings upwards, she saw a thin line reach beyond and into the sky. The line separated into two before converging back on itself. Above the city, etched upon the sky itself, was a pitch black gap in reality, opened and filled with so many eyes. And above still, the object of Toyohime’s desires and her sole driving factor—Koishi Komeiji.
Though the God’s eye was open, as well as the myriad collection of smaller eyes and drooling jaws that had lined every square inch of her squirming appendages, it was hard to tell if she was awake or conscious. Toyohime knew Koishi best, and if she had any guess as to what Koishi had been doing in the time they spent apart, it was receding back into the numbing comfort of her own mind. Even now, Toyohime figured she was still dreaming, avoiding the cruel weight of her responsibility. What manifested outside of her mind must’ve been some sort of twisted runoff.
Down there, hidden in the dunes, Toyohime knew there were those who would take this dream from Koishi. Those who would hurt Koishi. Those people would’ve done just as well to dig their own graves and build their own coffins. Because so long as Toyohime drew breath, she would protect Koishi with everything she could muster—that was her promise and the nature of her impossible, unconditional love.
Koishi was Toyohime’s second chance.
This time, one way or another, there would be no opportunity for a third.
Mima, on the other hand, had woken up quite a bit earlier than Toyohime had.
She had not suffered any fatal wounds or debilitating strikes leading up to the point where the reality around her started to crumble and distort—but she had briefly lost consciousness regardless. She figured that might’ve been a good thing; an action so absurd and so against everything she knew, perpetrated by an impossibly powerful being… even if a mere glimpse didn’t physically tear her mind to ribbons, she had no interest in trying to understand such a nonsensical event.
Mima awoke not in a desert, but in a grand sprawling city of seemingly human construction. Though the sun still hung overhead, the impossible hills and mountains of sand that caged the city in, always seemed to shift and move in the most calculated way… such that the sun was always put out. Caught in the shade, the city looked like it was in a perpetual night, in spite of the blinding yellow of the endless desert just beyond its limits.
Though that was the case, the city was far from dark. Street lamps, blinding neon signs, blinking traffic lights, apartments and houses with windows illuminated by the fluorescent lights within… It gave the impression the city was alive. It seemed exactly as a real bustling city at night, with its breathing and blinking—but there were no people. No matter how far Mima walked, no matter how many buildings she popped in, she would encounter no souls. She would find, in those buildings, immaculate setpieces filled with lived-in charm, hints and implications of life—but not people. Not even Yukari, who she wandered the streets in search of.
She recognized this place. This city—Tokyo. It couldn’t have possibly been, but it was the same Tokyo she grew up in, back before the Moonlight Descent and before the Kaiju. Before her chance meeting with the youkai who used to be her friend. This city, trapped in the middle of the desert, caught in an artificial night that obscured the flow of time—somehow it managed to be the perfect recreation of a long lost city, as if someone had taken a scalpel to the part of Mima’s brain that held onto the precious memories of her past life. It was comforting, being back in familiar territory, but it also carried along a pervasive uneasiness. The nostalgia said it was real, but the rational mind knew better than to buy into an impossible mirage—made all the more uneasy by the deathly silence of its streets.
After wandering around for a dozen minutes or more, Mima eventually came to find Yukari in a 24-hour fast food joint. She was sitting, out of her suit and miraculously healed, on a stool that faced the street outside, with her head down and a small pool of drool collecting at the point where the corner of her mouth met the countertop. Renko always said Maribel could fall asleep anywhere.
Mima floated back and forth around the gently snoring form of Yukari for a bit, considering her options. She changed back into her Renko form for a second, and after adjusting her hat a little, she reached over to tap Yukari on the shoulder… but then shied away. Glancing at Yukari, then back to her bag, she rummaged through its bottomless contents and pulled out a whole host of items: hand mirrors, makeup kits, two liter bottles of listerine, mints and peppermint breath spray and assorted beauty products.
She stole a quick glance back at Yukari to make sure she was asleep before going at it—in one go, she dumped every minty product she could into her mouth before swishing the unholy mixture in her mouth. It was not a moment later that she coughed out all of that liquid ice with a retch and a gag. Sheepishly, she turned her head to see if Yukari had woken up in all the commotion. Luckily, she was still knocked out something fierce. Mima might’ve guessed she was dead, if it weren’t for the occasional snore.
Undeterred, she opened a hand mirror and began to apply her makeup. Carefully. There was a subtle art to it—she only needed enough to hide any unsightly blemishes she might’ve gotten from her rather shut-in lifestyle as a ghost. Anything more, and Maribel was bound to notice Mima was purposefully fixing her appearance around her. None of that. Mima was trying for a more subliminal approach… It’s what worked in the past, after all.
Well, upon further thought, Mima figured “worked” was too strong a word. She did die before she saw any results, after all. But enough of that, Mima thought—now that she regained her memories, she’s finally gotten another shot. This being the apocalypse and all, she figured she should probably make it count.
She clicked close her portable hand mirror and, along with the rest of her stuff, threw it back into her field bag. She stole one last glance at Yukari, who was still sleeping soundly, before straightening her hat and clearing her throat.
“Maribel…” she said in a quiet, sing-song voice. She placed a hand on Yukari’s shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. “Maribel, wake up.”
No response. Mima pouted as she shook her around again. “Merry? It’s so scary around here—I need someone super strong and amazing by my side. Maybe we could hold hands?”
Nothing but more snoring. Mima’s expression fell. “... Okay, seriously. Wake up.”
“Don’t make me break out the big guns, Merry,” Mima said, digging through her bag and pulling out an airhorn. “I’ll do it. You think I’m bluffing?”
A tense beat passes. Mima stows away the airhorn. “... Ah, I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t do something like that to you. You’re too cute, hehe.”
“I’m not above this, though.” She reaches back into her bag and pulls out a spray bottle filled with water… before giving Yukari’s face a couple of quick spritzes.
That quiet, tranquil expression to Mima seemed almost a timeless representation of the relationship she shared with Maribel quickly contorted into one of disgust. After a moment of being pelted with spray after spray of water droplets, Yukari finally was roused from her sleep, a squinty, grouchy mess.
“Who..? Urgh…” She mumbled with a groan. When Yukari saw Renko, immaculately constructed before her with enough accuracy to convince her she came straight from her memories, she froze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “... Renko?”
“Hehe… Yep, it’s me! Your best friend. Best girl-friend, even. That is, a girl who is also a friend. Not a girlfriend, you know? Aha… Unless? Kidding, kidding.” Mima flashed an easy smile. “Glad you’re awake. Hey, before you say anything else—how do I look? I look cute, right? I know we’re in the middle of saving the world and everything, but I’ve actually been spending a lot of time taking care of my appearance.”
As Mima continued to ramble on and Yukari continued to wake up, her expression made a slow and gradual pivot. Where at first Yukari couldn’t hide her bemusement from her face—as well as that strange pained expression someone would have, seeing a loved one they have long since finished mourning appear upon their doorstep—she eventually came to settle on an empty stare and a neutral, apathetic expression. It hurt Mima a little, seeing such a radical turn in her demeanor.
“Oh,” Yukari muttered. “It’s just you.”
Mima didn’t think she intended it, but there was a layer of latent annoyance in her words. Or maybe it was disappointment? A thousand years or more apart did a lot to shift their relationship. That much was clear—and it hurt.
Yukari took a moment to look Mima up and down. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she delivered an unceremonious answer. “You look fine.”
Mima sighed in response. “Hey, I’ll take it.”
“More importantly…” As Yukari continued, she craned her neck around to absorb every detail of her surroundings: everything from the light fixtures above to the tables that were so meticulously set and prepared. “... Where are we?”
Her eyes naturally gravitated toward the front counter and the kitchen section that was just behind—meticulously wrapped burgers and fresh fries, set underneath heat lamps… it was as if they were all made recently. But that wasn’t even the strangest detail Yukari’s eyes were able to pick out. Upon one of the tables was a tray, filled with half eaten food—as if the patrons ceased to exist in the middle of their meal. This was beyond a mere liminal space, where it gave the impression of once being a place where people gathered—it was closer in relation to the scene of an ongoing disaster, where people had left in a hurry.
In that way, it didn’t carry much of the surreal quality of a place no longer meant for humans—it more so felt like a place with a cursed history, its sinister and mysterious narrative etched into its skin and flesh through the vestiges of human presence. Mima could tell, being a ghost herself, there was more to this place than the physical construction. As to what ‘more’ was, she could not place.
She could tell Yukari was thinking something similar by the way she walked around and took in the feeling of the place. Her posture was rigid and cautious, but not necessarily ready and waiting for danger. There was a quiet dread to the things that weren’t, but should’ve been.
“I’m trying to figure that out myself,” Mima replied, following Yukari around with her arms folded behind her back. “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but… I think we’re back in Tokyo.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Yukari replied. She walked over to the table with the food and traced a finger across its top. No dust clung to the surface of her finger, as if the tabletop had recently been cleaned. She brought the back of her palm close to the food. It was still radiating just a little bit of heat, as if it had been freshly served. “That’s the part that scares me.”
“... Assuming this is all very much real, this must be Koishi’s doing,” Yukari declared, taking a moment to look down at herself. As she flexed her fingers, her eyes narrowed. Mima figured she might’ve just realized she had been healed and mysteriously back to her usual outfit. She still looked younger and weaker than she once was, but there was an undeniable, albeit subtle increase in the vitality she seemed to convey. As Yukari’s eyes wandered to the empty city street outside, Mima couldn’t help but notice that expression—that idle, faraway gaze that looked like Yukari had trapped herself in a vivid daydream. She couldn’t help but realize how much Maribel had changed—and yet stayed the same.
“Whatcha thinking, Merry?” Mima tried, shuffling up to Yukari’s side.
“Yukari.”
“Oh. Right. Ha, that’s my bad. My bad…”
“I’m thinking: why Tokyo specifically?” With a wave of her hand, Yukari opened a gap next to her. Through that little tear in reality was a bird’s eye view of the whole city, as well as the infinite desert that surrounded it. “... There must be some significance to this location, but I couldn’t possibly imagine what it could be. Not right now, knowing what we know.”
“Hey, I grew up in Tokyo, you know? Maybe it has something to do with that? And… y’know, we were teaching in Tokyo before…” Mima gestured vaguely around herself. “... Everything, I guess. Maybe Koishi’s reacting to our memories.”
“Could be. Could just as easily be something related to Koishi. Could be nothing at all.” The view through the gap eventually fizzled out, leaving nothing but the inky blackness of the pocket dimension Yukari held dominion over. She let out a sigh before stitching the gap closed with a wave of her hand. “I’d suggest we keep on moving. Collect as much information as we can about this place. But only what we need—the plan is still largely the same. There’s no telling when she will appear again. Best be as quick about it as we can.”
“Oh. Uh… Alright. That’s cool.”
“... What?”
“Hm?”
“What’s wrong? You disagree?”
“Oh no, ah…” A sheepish grin crawled across Mima’s face. “I was just thinking about how much you’ve changed, is all. It’s just… you know, a huge city missing all of its people is pretty mysterious, huh? Don’t you want to do more exploring? Poke around a bit and take in the sights? Like we used to—just one last time?”
There was an unsettling period of silence where Yukari stared straight through Mima with that flat look. She averted her eyes for a passing moment. When Yukari returned her gaze to Mima, it was steely and cold. “No. Neither of us are kids anymore. We have duties and responsibilities that we can not abandon. Not for anything.”
Yukari brushed past Mima. The gesture wasn’t very rough at all, but Mima felt it come at her hard. As Yukari opened the door, she looked back at Mima and gestured to her to follow.
“Let’s go.”
Orin did not want much from life.
There was Satori, her master, who she cared about deeply. There was Okuu, her best friend, who she loved. There was Koishi, the younger sister of her master, who she felt obligated to take care of. And of course, there was her job of transporting corpses, which she could do endlessly and without tiring. Those things more or less encompassed everything she cared about—Orin was a simple person.
So as she crawled out the emergency hatch located at the top of the ship her master had so recklessly buried into a sand dune, she couldn’t help but feel so hopelessly out of her depth. With a groan, she hoisted herself over the lip of the hatch before losing her balance and tumbling over.
As she tumbled downward, bumping her head against every little edge the ship had on her way down, the visor to her suit cracked and then shattered. But as she flopped down into the warm sand, her arms and legs spread in a state of absolute fatigue, she couldn’t really bring herself to care about the warning tones in her helmet—or the fact she was able to breathe the air here, in what used to be the void. Frankly, all she could think about was how much she wanted to go home.
“Orin! Are you okay?” A familiar voice called from somewhere outside her field of vision. It was followed by the hasty clattering of boots on metal as they no doubt clambered down the ship in a hurry.
All Orin could offer in response was a weak grunt and the extension of a thumbs up.
“Are… are you insane?” Another voice called soon after, all breathless and hoarse. It cracked with exertion, as if it had already been worn out by so much screaming. “Satori, what form of devil possessed you to do that? We could’ve all died!”
Satori, of course, didn’t respond. Not before she entered Orin’s field of view, her own helmet long since thrown away. Her face was etched with a rare look of concern, and she breathed a deep sigh of relief when she saw Orin manage a weak smile. Wordlessly, Satori jostled off the smashed helmet from Orin’s suit and brushed away any remaining debris… before pulling her into a tight embrace.
Orin, dazed and shocked from the crash, could manage little else than to rest her head upon her master’s shoulders as she was pulled in. But through whatever stores of energy she had left, she managed to raise her arms and wrap them around in loose reciprocation.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
Satori pulled back from the hug, but stayed kneeling by Orin’s side. Cautiously, she looked to the horizon, as if she had caught a vanishing glimpse of something stalking them from behind the shifting sands. She extended an elbow for Orin to grab on to. “Let’s go. Can you stand?”
“I… I think so,” Orin mumbled, hooking one of her arms around Satori’s elbow and placing a hand on her shoulder for support. Her master lifted, and in response Orin tried her best to stumble onto her feet, with mixed results. As she straightened herself out with the help of Satori, she heard her bones shift and crackle in strange ways—followed by an absolute lightning strike of localized pain in the leg and the fuzzy static that came to replace it.
After a sharp intake of breath and a pained wince, Orin settled into a decidedly unconvincing posture—she plastered a smile on her face and shifted all of her weight onto the other leg in a poor imitation of nonchalance, but Satori’s face only got graver. It broke Orin’s heart. For a moment, Orin tried to separate herself from her master so she could stand on her own—but Satori only squeezed her in closer, as if she would’ve lost Orin the second she let go.
That didn’t surprise Orin much. She knew better than anyone that the events one year ago were still fresh in her master’s mind. Even now, it haunted her every action, and now the consequences were starting to catch up with everyone involved. But to Orin, that didn’t matter. It never did—not so long as Satori was her master, and Orin was her pet. Satori could march to the deepest pit of Hell, pick a fight with a God, oppose reality itself… and Orin would march along right beside her, no matter what.
Patchouli, on the other hand, did not share the same sentiment. She marched up to the two, at least temporarily uncaring of the fantastical environment they found themselves in, and went straight to airing out her grievances.
“Recklessly engaging with Toyohime like that, against all better logic… one day, and this day might very well come sooner than you think, your obsession with that cursed woman will hurt someone you care about,” Patchouli snapped. As she looked to Orin, whose body was riddled with evidence of blunt trauma, her expression softened. “... It already has.”
“As if we had any other choice. It was our best shot to kill her, once and for all,” Satori replied, stone-faced and cold. “... Besides, let Orin speak for herself. As if you know what she does and doesn’t wish for.”
“... Orin wasn’t the only person who got hurt. Or killed.”
“It just so happens that Eirin conveniently falls outside my definition of ‘people I care about.’ I fail to see the issue.” Satori snorted with disgust, as if offended by the mere implication. Orin wanted to speak up and cut between the fighting, but couldn’t find the strength to oppose her own master. “That aside, who says I was the one who got her killed? She got herself killed, following her own incomprehensible mess of half-baked ideas and strategies. What are you coming at me for?”
“How could you be so cold toward someone like her? Especially since we were all fighting out there together, as comrades? Have you no shame?”
“I’ve no love for her. Not after what she did to my sister.” Satori stared straight into Patchouli’s eyes. Sometimes her master was like this—staring straight ahead through a person, as if judging the content of their soul itself. Sometimes, this was literally the case, given that she made liberal use of her opened third eye. “We might be fighting beside each other, but we’re fighting for completely different things. Yukari, Eirin, Kaguya, even you and I—we’re all fighting for something different. Those are just the facts. Just as it was a fact that Koakuma had darkness in her heart. It’s that kind of fact.”
“How cynical. Aren’t we friends?”
Satori fixed Patchouli with a steady glare as she thought through her answer. Even with an open eye, Orin found her master’s thought process difficult to parse.
“... No. We aren’t,” Satori settled. “It’s not a secret—I’m fighting to get my sister back. I’m fighting to kill the person who turned her into a monster. I’m fighting to protect my family. You are doing none of those things—you’re fighting for a more abstract reason: protecting the world, or preventing human suffering, or whatever other justification you assign to your actions. It’s admirable, but recognize that It’s only by convenience that we’re here, helping each other out.”
“... Is that right?” Patchouli muttered under her breath. “Then if it came between Yukari, or Eirin, or me, or anyone else… and your family. Who would you choose?”
Silence.
“It’s best to be honest with ourselves. It saves us the heartache.”
“I see.”
In the silence that came after, the atmosphere seemed to become heavier. Orin spent each passing beat being suffocated by the pressure. Her eyes darted from Patchouli to her master, and then back again.
“Er…” Orin started. “Let’s ah… could we just figure out what we’re going to do next, maybe? Without fighting—that would be nice.”
“Good plan, Orin,” Satori said. Though strangely enough, she wouldn’t take her eyes off of Patchouli. “I’m not quite sure what we would do without you.”
Patchouli looked away. Orin couldn’t help but feel vaguely responsible—though the second the thought even popped into mind, Satori squeezed a little tighter, as if in reassurance.
“... There’s no use in arguing,” Patchouli said with a heavy sigh. “Or rather, it’s a subject for later, when we aren’t all in danger. For now, I agree—we should figure out our next steps.”
The guns had long since run quiet.
Those satellites—their powerful bodies forged by the greatest minds, cast in the strongest metals, and mounted with the fiercest weapons humanity could muster—how could they have possibly matched the horror of God’s wrath? They could never, and for their hubris, their bodies and their souls were scattered and broken as a million glittering lights upon the ocean.
Those were the kinds of things Kaguya Houraisan thought about as she sat beside a flickering fire, her only source of light deep in the darkness of a desert night, not a few meters from the turned and battered wreckage of the CNS Beyond the Sun. In the void, It was battered by unseen force, turned three times—and upon the fourth, struck down and consumed by the void, as was the divine will of God. To its crew, it might have seemed like nothing less than a castigation of divine nature—but Kaguya knew it was nothing more than the temper tantrum of a child. As infant children must necessarily cry, Koishi must necessarily kill—it was her unconscious will.
Woe upon humanity, as its greatest accomplishment was brought low and made worthless before a child. Her own child. What a dubious honor it was—being the mother of such a terrifying, omnipresent killer.
Kaguya was on the ship when it was attacked by Toyohime. She was there to see Eirin march on to meet her. And she was there to see her die. It didn’t bother Kaguya too much—after all, she had watched Eirin die countless times. She will likely watch her die countless more, before all is said and done. But it was there, seized by the temporary shock, that Kaguya lost consciousness. When she woke up, she was deep within the fresh wreckage of humanity’s greatest weapon—alone. On what happened to her crew, and why Kaguya was spared, she could only make guesses.
With no direction and no plan, Kaguya spent what felt like hours wandering the claustrophobic halls of that great metal cage of a ship. But she was alone. Alone in such a way that not even the impression of humanity remained. Even the spot where she saw three men become atomized by Toyohime’s attack, which had burnt dark impressions of their silhouettes into the steel, was mysteriously void of any sign they were killed at all. The damage remained, but the people were gone—erased from existence in a way only God could manage.
When she eventually emerged from the dark recesses of the ship into a darker night, with nothing but the stars above and the inexplicable ground below, she could do nothing but start a simple fire. The night was cold, and she had a feeling it would be long. Warmth would be needed.
This, alone and huddled by a dying fire, must have been the end. Kaguya shifted closer to the flame, and held her knees closer to her chest. She didn’t know what to do. When her own daughter had sought her out, she didn’t know what to say. All she could do was recognize—that in pursuit of an easy life, she had made things so much worse. She wondered if it was too late to make things right between herself and Koishi. If Kaguya had looked up to her daughter now, and said sorry, would she hear? Would she care?
She wasn’t sure. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out.
As she stared at the stars above, Kaguya heard the shuffling of boots displacing the sand. The sounds came in an irregular, halting motion. When it came to a stop, Kaguya lowered her gaze to the figure who stood at the edge of her fire’s light.
A moon rabbit in a pilot suit, all ripped up, tattered, and blackened by combat. In the gaps of her suit, her skin had melted away from severe burns—and froze in place, creating large patches of gangrenous tissue that covered her body. As Kaguya’s eyes drifted downward, she noticed a patch of body that had a view to the other side. Somehow, by some miracle of medicine, the wound remained stable and closed.
Her face was concealed by her helmet, tinted and patterned by a spider web of cracks, but by the way she stood, so still and lopsided, Kaguya had the impression of an empty gaze just behind the facade.
The moon rabbit carried in her left hand a revolver, its chambers empty and on display as the mechanism that connected the grip to the top half of the hung loose. In her other hand, was an ax, splintered in half at the handle from excessive use and its blade caked in a thick layer of blood.
Without a word, the moon rabbit collapsed into a heap by the fire.
Kaguya rushed to the moon rabbit’s side and, upon removing her helmet, froze.
Atonement—she wondered if it was even possible.
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