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#and not one individual form could encompass her at all!
kindledrose · 9 months
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just watched nimona feeling FANTASTIC
#hi friend who watched it with me if you see this <3333 i had a wonderful time i hope u did too#i am not good at articulating my thoughts in the moment but my brain was going BOING BOING BOING the whole time because THE SYMBOLISM....#(spoilers below be warned)#but the metaphors man. it's all about the metaphors#the colors and the dichotomy gahhhh (the black + white + pinkish-orange)#the blend of traditional medieval and modern in the setting because It Is A Changing Era#the fact that every one of nimona's forms was part of her identity! every time she was shown on screen it was very clearly her!#except in those last few scenes where she had Very Clearly Became What People Wanted To See !!!#and not one individual form could encompass her at all!#the mix of Individual People vs The System driving the story#the whole !!! the whole history being based on something inaccurate and one-sided and the walls literally breaking down.#(the fact that i didn't even notice when the director died lmao. i had to think back just now like 'wait what happened to her again')#the queer solidarity though auhhhh#the whole time at the beginning i was like 'OH IT'S BALLISTER ALMOST BEGINNING TO BE ACCEPTED... BUT NIMONA IS STILL TOO MUCH HMM?'#canonically gay & trans characters but they are a representation as well...#anyways. one of The Movies Ever i think#i am so so happy that it did get made!! and screw di sney for that i guess!!!#yeah. watch nimona i guess#i'm sad i didn't get to watch it through netflix though (my family lost the password). but when i can i just kind of want to loop it#so they know yknow#terra is rambling
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seagoober · 1 year
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A Different Kind of Human ( Step 1)
TFP Optimus Prime x Female Human Reader
Optimus had seen countless beings across the galaxy. But she… she was different.
For a desert climate Nevada became confusingly cool when the Sun left the sky to rest behind the mountain tops. The lack of sun rays left only moonbeams to touch the surface of the young planet. The softness of the slight chill in the air was accompanied by the sultry darkness that encompassed the deserts of Nevada.
The night was still and calm. Tiny bugs were serenading the sweet silence of the night. Their soft songs harmonized with the low buzz of the lone Cybertronian wheels gliding on the asphalt of the deserted highways.
Optimus cherished nights like this. Nights where everything is tranquil. His precious Autobots at the base recharging peacefully in their berth-rooms. The Decepticons hiding away in their ship, leaving the beauty of the earth alone for a single night. All around was serene and still.
Except the Prime’s own thoughts. His processor was running in overdrive: disturbing the hushed nature of the evening.
The electrowaves inside his processor refused to be still. Waves upon waves of thoughts coursed in Optimus’s helm as his alt-form went to the unknown. The chattering of his mind didn’t cease even as his tires slowly stopped and his physical form came to a rest.
Optimus simply sat there in his alt-form as another wave of intrusive thoughts filled his processor. Time was non-existent, the Autobots were nonexistent, the Decepticons were nonexistent, he himself was nonexistent. The only thing real was the hushed voice he filed far away in his deepest files every day cycle.
‘How much longer with this war go on’
‘Am I doing what’s right?’
‘Can Megatron truly be stopped?’
‘How much longer can we last without substantial Everton reserves’
‘Am I worthy of the title prime?’
‘Am I even enough-‘
Optimus’s inner voice was halted in its wake of self destruction by an ambrosial melody. The honeyed voice singing this sweet serenade was only accompanied by the gentle tune of what Optimus assumed was a string instrument. He didn’t know what it was, but he did know that it was lovely.
His optics inside his alt-form lightly closed as he basked in the heavenly symphony only he was present to witness.
Her ethereal voice easily rounded around the notes of the melody. Each staff of the music was delicately executed to create a lyrical wonder that had Optimus craving more of her harmonious singing.
The words of her song were sad but not entirely so. They were reminiscent of a sort of melancholy with a bud of happiness at the center. The lyrics were bittersweet but still had a comforting warmth that enveloped his whole spark.
As gently as it started, the sweet notes of the music died out as she finished her song with a delicate vibrato. His optics opened to bare witness to this human who calmed his never ending worry.
She was quite a bit away. Perched on the roof of (what he assumed was )her vehicle, her legs swaying back forth rhythmically as she began to strum her wooded strung instrument again. Her fingers skillfully switched positions as the notes changed and she began to hum.
‘How long has she been residing here?’ Optimus wondered. It was unusual for a young woman to be playing music to herself in an abandoned parking lot. Optimus only grew curiouser and curiouser.
Her gentle strumming stopped as she turned her head to the rising the sun. Optimus’s optics were basking in the beauty of her form as the sun-rays surrounded her. Humans were a wonderful species, one that Optimus swore to protect with his entire spark.
But she… she was a different kind of human. One that he couldn’t even begin describe with his vast vocabulary. Her hair flowed as she turned to face his alt-form.
Optimus was one who understood what the human standard of beauty was, but she was most stunning individual he had laid his optics upon. No bot on Cybertron could compare to her radiance. Her eyes glanced over his alt-form, nothing else present but serenity in them.
Oh Primus her eyes. They were like two stars plucked from the sky. Optimus had seen countless optics and some human eyes, but hers. They were otherworldly in their radiance.
Only then did Optimus realize that it was sunrise. It had just been the early whispers of the night, how did he lose track of time so easily? How long was his processor buzzing with worry and distress?
Ratchet would be rising from his short recharge soon. Optimus had to leave the human and her vehicle alone as to not raise suspicion or anxiety back at base. He was about to start his engine when the girl moved.
She gently climbed down from the top of her car with her instrument at her side and started walking towards him. Her footsteps were muffled, barely even making a noise.
She stopped a right by his driver side door and she climbed up upon him. Her actions startled Optimus to his spark. Did she know what he was? Did she see him staring?
His processor started to buzz with distress again when she placed a small sticky piece of paper on his windshield. She took out a decorated pencil and wrote something on the note silently. Putting her pencil away, she then placed a few bills under his windshield wiper, making sure to hide the money from any prying eyes.
“There you go. You must’ve been here for quiet awhile. Safe travels Mr. Trucker”
Her voice was like nothing he’s heard before. It was just as harmonious as her singing but more delicate. She carefully climbed down and went back to her car.
Her engine started and slowly her car left the parking lot. Optimus was unmoving. Stunned from the sheer kindness this human had given him.
Optimus checked his inner clock and cursed. He had to get back to base now or Ratchet will lose it and send everyone looking for him. He’s a prime and he has greater responsibilities than loitering in a parking lot.
He started his engine and pulled out of the parking lot. As he began the trip back to base, Optimus could only think of that human and the note she left him. That ethereal human that could be ascribed to myths of Cybertron.
She truly was a different kind of human.
Hi! This is my first fanfic on tumblr so I hope you liked it! Big daddy prime makes me very happy lol. I have a narrative in mind where I want this to go. Lemme know if y’all want more! I’m also open to doing other bots too. I love all the TFP bots!!!
Btw the reader was playing a lute and her car is a Chevy Spark LT. and yes the name is an Aurora reference. Her music is top teir. I was inauthentic reader singing black water lilies or this could be a dream but is up to interpretation.
See you next time fireflies!!
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dysthymiia · 10 months
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I can deny myself countless things to heighten his pleasure And I can risk for him what would be dearest to me without him But me, myself, I do not sacrifice for him But rather remain an egoist and- enjoy him
Dys wasn't a 'love' kind of boy.
Or, at least, the socially prevalent type of love.
The kind of love he grew up with, the love that came to others so naturally.
Platonic love, the comfort and vulnerability of being true and being harmonious with each other that Rex and Nomi shared, the feeling of being halves of a whole yet still whole as individuals.
Romantic love, the reddish tint that rushes through Cal's cheeks, and the darting of his eyes when Tammy tucks her hair behind her ear, the embarrassing stutter and stumble of words when Tammy smiles at him or taps his shoulder.
Familial love, the sparkle of admiration in Anemone's eyes when Kom comes back from an expedition with Security Chief Rhett with a curious scar on his arm. Though he feels as though must have felt something along the lines once in his earlier life before Vertumna.
And... whatever Marz was so keen and persistent on doing with Tangent when she ran her eyes and a single manicured palm over Tangent's body with hooded eyes, a look that Tangent reciprocated in her own way. Dys assumed that as another form of love.
These feelings were so persistent and so common, like natural behavior in humankind, this feeling of love. Yet Dys could never comprehend it nor how it comes so easily.
Dys understood trust. He understood loyalty, obsession, vulnerability, compassion, the need to feel, the need to commune, the need to sacrifice, to be cherished, among others.
Rather, what he couldn't decipher was how one feels all those things, does all those things, for just one equally small being besides themselves. How all these convoluted and needlessly cumbersome emotions manifest into a simple four-letter word. How that word is uttered so easily, thrown around like it's as light as a feather. How people let it take them over, brings them into such euphoric states, almost to a fault.
It was not as though Dys wanted to berate the people who felt this, that he wanted to rid the world of such an emotion. He had no business with how they went about their lives, he did not find the need to involve himself, either.
He was perfectly content, even, being someone different, some kind of 'outcast', as he was labelled. He relished in his own uniqueness, he did not feel any desire to conform even if that brought along with it an encompassing loneliness.
He wanted, but did not crave to be understood, to be heard and to be validated. He wanted love, but did not crave it, nor for him to be loved. He did not crave such fragile and often futile things. If he deserves such things, if he was destined for it, he would not need to search for it. He would want it and it would come to him.
Yet it was cumbersome. Unnecessarily frustrating, difficult. An arduous and vulnerable task to reach an uncertain happiness, a happiness that was more likely temporary than not.
His beliefs were not proven wrong when Sol came to him one night under the night sky, as though he had wished for him upon a star.
Dys didn't feel Sol's presence until he heard the soft rustling of the grass and skin brush along his fingertips. He turned curiously to the right, startled when Sol was spread out on the grass much like he was.
Sol didn't say anything, he knew he didn't need to with Dys. Dys found companionship in the simple act of presence, comfortable silence, sharing something without the need for words.
Dys turned back to the night sky, his thoughts wandering with every new star his eyes observed.
Sol was part of a small, exclusive few that Dys found he could get along with. He wasn't unreasonably headstrong like Anemone nor as meekly pleasant as Tammy. He wasn't as aloof and opinionated as Tangent or as prissy and narcissistic as Marz, and he wasn't as innocently boyish as Cal.
There was something about Sol that made him revolve less around himself like the rest of the kids at Vertumna. He seemed to revolve more around others, around those he cherished, what was around him. He was different, his uniqueness shone much like Dys' own, whether Sol was aware of that or not. What Dys felt for Sol was care, teetering on admiration, the only being he saw worthy of irrevocable love.
The tips of Sol's fingers brushed against Dys' own, and he felt himself tense against the grass. The touch was slight and fleeting, but electrifying, like a kid disobeying and defecting out of spite for the first time. An odd thrill, like the very sensation was wrong to think about, like it was wrong to desire for it to linger.
Dys understood, suddenly, what love was. Not to the world, not to the forming society of Vertumna. What the four letter word stood for to him.
To love is not to desire, but to have, the power of simply having, the power to let go, the power to rather hold on. The power to own, to own forever, to know you will own until you choose otherwise.
Some people might consider that ugly, to use words such as to own and to have when describing such a thing as love. Yet Dys found content in it, he found a meaning that spoke to him more than anything else, more than stories of butterflies and true love's kisses and happily ever afters.
In its essence, he found love transactional. The whirlwind of feelings and complications that came along were secondary to the simple action of giving love, and feeling the same in return.
To have someone who loves you as you love them back, to have them in the palm of your hand, to have their love, to own it. To use that love, their everlasting love for you, for better or for worse, for joy or sorrow, to experience it, to let it fill the gaps that are a cruel constant, though sometimes unnoticed.
Dys believed himself to have love most would call devotion, a love to give that was whole and true and irreplaceable. He believed Sol to deserve such love, a love he did not trust anyone else to give, anyone else to show to the lengths Sol merited, the lengths Dys would go, the lengths he would cross beyond.
To have Sol next to him in this very moment, a moment so still and small in the passage of time, was comforting. To know in this moment, Sol felt a love unique for him, and Dys returned one equally so. To know in this moment, they were inexplicably tied, by body and love, and perhaps soul, reality beyond what destiny could promise.
It was all Dys would want in this moment. All he would need for years until their bodies and bones wither back into nature's hold. In these few moments, moments so inconsequential, Dys was where he belonged. And that home would forever be, until he willed for it to go.
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cdragons · 7 months
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From the Beginning - A Persephone!Eternal Reader & Hecate!Eternal Reader Drabble
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Pairings: Persephone!Eternal Reader & Hecate!Eternal Reader, ft. Sephia x Ikaris, and Kaetlyn x Druig Word Count: 1.1k Summary: A lil' drabble idea to show how it all started for our favorite thinker and fighter, and how they would soon change everything for everyone. Warning(s): none it's so fluffy Notes: Once again, thank you to the most wonderful beta reader a new fanfic writer can ask for in the history of everything, @valeskafics! She is an incredibly kind and patient human and one of the best and most incredible fanfic writers for HOTD, GOT, and the Ewanverse on Tumblr! If you love any of Ewan Mitchell's works or are a fan of GOT/HOTD, I highly recommend checking her blog out! You will not regret it! Also, the BIGGEST thank you and shout of love to @ethereal-athalia, my good man in the storm, I have never clicked so well with someone on this platform when it came to crazy ideas, and thanks to her, I can write out my ideas and share them on this site! If you want to read more from this AU, please click on this masterlist!
“It is time,” were the first words uttered that would mark the beginning of a mission that would change their lives forever. Long gone were their lives on their home planet, Olympia. Now, their only priority was their mission on the planet Earth.  
Twelve individuals stood from their seats and made their way to their positions that marked their roles in humanity’s growth. Six on one side, and six on the other.  
Six Eternals would serve as “fighters,” protecting humanity from the hideous creatures that threatened their feeble existence known as “Deviants.”  
The other six would take on their roles as “thinkers,” guiding humanity to evolve in their intelligence so that they would be able to create wonders without assistance.  
But regardless, “thinker” or “fighter,” each Eternal was blessed with abilities that would play an integral role for their mission. Each Eternal stood in their place, golden streams of celestial energy encompassed their bodies as they could now wear the armor that marked their Olympian origins and culture.  
With their bodies equipped, and minds ready, each Eternal made their way to gaze out from the many windows that their starship, the Domo, was built with in preparation for their travel.  
As each Eternal introduced themselves to one another, hoping to gain common ground with the team to settle rattled nerves, only two individuals had no need for introduction. 
As one Eternal gazed out the Domo - bereft at the sight of the planet where her new life would begin – she wondered if Earth would ever be home the way Olympia had been to her despite her having no true memory of it. She wondered if her abilities would prove useful, and she was worried that she would be incapable of making any friends. Luckily, that fear would be one that would pass very, very soon. 
“Sephia!” 
Her name was all she heard before arms encased by iridescently dark blue with pearly ivory entwining into celestial bodies that wrapped around her nimble but powerful form. A wide smile grew as she registered the familiarity of the voice.  
It was Kaetlyn, her very best friend.  
Instant relief filled her body as she shifted her body to return the hug. Sephia’s joy knew no bounds as she realized that she would at least be in the company of one of the greatest warriors Olympia had ever produced. But even without her arrows, Kaetlyn was the best person Sephia could think of for as long as she remembered. The fact that she left her home and was aboard with too many strangers no longer mattered to her. So long as her beloved Kaet was by her side, Sephia would get through anything that came her way. It was if their bond was testified and bound by the stars themselves. 
“Aren’t you so excited? Look at it! It’s so beautiful! I wonder what sites we’ll see!”  
As Kaetlyn’s curiosity grew, so did her excitement. Her voice could hardly contain the sheer ecstaticity that was flowing throughout her entire body. The next words that escape her would mark the shadow archer’s true intentions.  
“Think of all the adventures we’ll have,” she whispered out so that only Sephia would be able to hear her, “The stories we’ll be able to tell!”  
If Kaetlyn was known for anything besides her skills in combat, it was her insatiable curiosity. For as long as Sephia had known her, Kaetlyn was never ever satisfied with only knowing whatever she currently knew. She always wanted to know MORE. Sephia smiled at a memory of Kaet once explaining to her that it was her solemn oath that she would never EVER be satisfied with only what anyone gave her, and that she’d always find her way to learn more. That oath felt like it was from a lifetime ago. 
These words were from another lifetime, in more ways than one. But that will come to light at another time. 
But despite Kaetlyn’s contagious excitement, dread began to course through Sephia’s veins. As her nerves began to eat at her, Sephia couldn’t help but pick at her fingers. A horrible habit that would always result in inflamed tissue, bleeding, and ugly scars.  
“I’m scared,” she timidly replied, eyes turned away so that she wouldn’t let her friend see her cowardice. “What if the life forms on this planet are horrible? What if they are beyond help?” As Sephia continued to list her concerns, Kaetlyn understood that it wasn’t the fear of others that terrified Sephia, it was the idea that she would be of no use to Arishem’s grand design. 
“It will be alright Seph,” Kaet declared in a tone that filled herself with confidence and Sephia with reassurance, “After all, as long as we’re together, nothing will be too terrible.” 
“…I suppose that’s true,” Sephia let herself agree to her most trusted companion’s advice, but her heart was still heavy with anxiety. 
Very softly, she dared ask the most stupid question that ever left her mouth. 
“Will we always be together?” 
Kaetlyn looked at her most cherished friend with so much warmth in her eyes that it was as if all the most beautiful things in the universe were born into the very person in front of her.  
“Sephie,” she began with love in her voice and stars in her eyes as she leaned forward to press their foreheads together, “As if you even need to ask.” 
Unbeknownst to either of the girls, two men from opposite sides of the room gazed at the loving embrace with curious eyes.  
One came from Ikaris, a fighter gifted with the ability to fly and emit optic beams of celestial energy, as well as a commanding figure and attitude. His watch was fixed on the beautiful Eternal, with flowing blush fabric draped across her lovely figure as strategically placed brass armor hinted at the curves of her physique. He could not stop staring at her, despite the impossibly lovely Sersi that stood beside him at that very moment. 
The other came from Druig, a thinker who was known across Olympia for his telepathic abilities, along with his quick wit and surly demeanor. But all somber thoughts came to a halt at the sight of the slim figure, who after donning her armor, disappeared into the shadows of the room. Only to reappear to embrace her friend with so much delight, it surprised him.  
Two very different individuals, but both somehow staring at the sight before them for so long, that it would set in motion the events that would be all four individuals’ joy, as well as their end. 
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Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @aphroditesmoon, @its-actually-minicika, @spacetalbot, @angelnyx, @vikingqueen28, @redheadspark, @siempre-bucky, @beananacake, @asa-do-your-thing, @heliosphere8, @bambiandbam, @sunphyre, @bryandechartisasmolbean, @getawaycardotmp3, @americanprometheuss, @karimac
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denmark-street · 7 months
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One of the key hallmarks of a fascistic/totalitarian movement, as defined in a brilliant essay by Umberto Eco on 'Ur-Fascism', is that it's syncretistic, which means it combines different forms of belief that may be contradictory. That artificial fusion enables the ideology/religion to claim it possesses an all-encompassing world view, a one-stop-shop for truth. I wanted the UHC to have incorporated religious practices from all over the world and to have appropriated aspects of other cultures, to give itself an attractive gloss of multiculturalism and diversity. I had an old copy of the I Ching on one of my bookshelves that I bought second hand years ago, and I don't think I'd ever opened until I was creating the UHC. One morning I walked past the book case and thought 'that could be interesting.' I immediately knew I wanted to use it, because the I Ching is in so many ways absolutely antiethical to the UHC, containing bits of philosophy and comments on human nature, sometimes oblique but occasionally quite direct, that contradict everything the UHC - and particularly Mazu - stands for. It seemed to me that the I Ching's conception of the 'superior man' - or person - as an individual of quiet strength, independent thought and wisdom couldn't be further from the UHC's determination to turn adherents into mindless automata fit only to parrot its talking points, effectively forbidding intellectual enquiry. I also liked the idea of Mazu posing as something she emphatically is not - biracial - and taking the I Ching as her own personal device of judgement and punishment, when it is anything but that. To tell you the truth, I became fascinated by the I Ching while writing the novel, and learned how to count out the yarrow stalks in the traditional way so I knew exactly how it worked (and when I say 'worked', I don't claim it's a divination device, but I do think it's a very interesting tool for meditation and reflection).
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repurpose-yourself · 4 months
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Santa's Objectified Helpers 2 (4/7)
"You have lived a life of existential crisis."
Sadie simply looked out the window, watching snowflakes swirl in the wind, "For years."
"This I know," Chris responded, standing next to Sadie, "You have begged me for purpose every Christmas, to understand who you are and why you exist."
Sadie glanced at Santa, "Do you have that answer?"
Chris looked out the window, "No. I'm not that powerful. But I can give you an opportunity to change who you are. It's not the answer you are looking for but maybe it might offer you some peace."
"What do you mean? Like leave this body behind?" Sadie asked.
"That's one way of looking at it," Chris replied, "This power of mine is often used to correct poor decisions by you mortals. But as Santa, it's my responsibility to grant wishes, which are often in the form of gifts. Though, in your case, I don't mind bending my own rules to satisfy a need. You're a good person, Sadie."
Sadie took a deep breath, "I appreciate that, Santa. I really do. But that's not enough to fix me."
"I know this too. And I intend to change that..."
***
"Finally. New socks."
Those words jolted Sadie from the darkness. Immediately her view was filled with the face of a young man who looked to be in their early 20's. While the individual was handsome, Sadie felt anxious as the man looked directly at her. It was then she noticed this person was holding her too.
'What is going on?' Sadie said internally, feeling her body being manipulated by this man's hands.
She didn't question why this person was handling her, though. It felt right, even if everything about this moment didn't make sense. Nimble fingers tested Sadie's quality, stretching her body in different directions.
"They stretch too. My feet need socks like these. The shit they bought earlier this season didn't cut it."
With her vision encompassing every direction, Sadie caught a quick glimpse of herself in a mirror directly in front of the young man.
'Am I... a sock?' Sadie thought, utterly confused now.
"You are," Chris' voice suddenly said, "Just like your partner, you are a durable and long lasting piece of clothing for an up and coming professional basketball star."
'But why a sock?' Sadie asked honestly.
Just then she felt herself lowering to the floor, hovering close to the man's foot lifted slightly off the ground.
"Sadie, I think you know why," Chris responded, "You may question your existence but you still exhibit wants and needs like everyone else. I'm Santa, after all. I see everything. And I know about that little foot fetish of yours."
If Sadie could have blushed, the former human would have. Five plump toes entered the living sock's opening and pushed in. Sadie's body expanded around the large appendage, accommodating the player's foot with ease.
'This feels right...' she thought, savoring the warmth radiating off the man's foot.
"I thought so," Chris said, "May you find peace and purpose in life now."
Before the player's sock covered feet were large hightop kicks. Sadie found herself plunging into the right shoe, immediately being consumed by a masculine odor that threatened the living sock's freshness. Familiar darkness returned as the man's foot locked into place, with laces being tightened overhead. Now sandwiched between two unmovable forces, Sadie encountered a feeling she didn't know could be felt.
'I belong to this man's feet now... I belong. I now know my purpose.'
The tall basketball player stood up, unleashing extensive weight upon the newly transformed sock. Sadie felt uncomfortable but not enough to deter the wave of uplifting emotions. Perspiration set in, soaking into her body while the player moved around, joining the other team members.
Before long Sadie would smell no different than her new owner's feet. Just like the man's shoes, the living sock would be marked permanently by the player's aroma. No question about who owned her. No question about her purpose in life.
'I am a sock. And I couldn't be happier...'
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sincerely-sofie · 30 days
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I love seeing your voice claims! It's so entertaining to hear how you would envision someone's voice, even if it isn't perfect!
But now i'm curious if you have any 'themes' for the characters. Like, something that would fit while playing in the background during a scene that focuses on them.
If you don't know what im thinking about (I REALLY hope that doesn't sound condescending) Thinking of your interpenetration of Skuntank makes Groose's theme from Skyward Sword play in my head. Something like that?
:00000 !!!! A FELLOW GROOSE’S THEME SKUNTANK IMAGINER!!!
Thank you so much! I catch your drift, and it wasn’t condescending at all! I have such a hard time choosing themes for characters because I have a very specific vibe for them all in my head, but its hard to find pre-existing songs out there that check all the boxes. I tried to pick songs (specifically instrumental songs because if I went into songs with lyrics we’d be here all day) that encompassed the general “feel” of the characters well enough. However, I’ll include some notes on what I’d try to include for the characters’ themes of if I were to make them from the ground up!
Also going to hide all the links and stuff under a cut because this post got big hehe
Twig
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Twig's theme would be light and peppy for the most part— a fast, jaunty tune that would be difficult to play in real life. There'd be points in it where it sounds like the musicians are struggling to keep up the pace and would fail to play the same notes as previously used— giving it a desperate element, like she's struggling to keep up with her own happy appearance. I think she'd have an acoustic guitar or mandolin as a major part of her theme, and maybe one of those toy pianos that give a very chaotic, enthusiastic vibe to songs? She'd have a stretch in her personal leitmotif that would form a beautiful melody when paired with Kip's.
Kip
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Kip would have a generally happy sounding song that incorporates the ukulele and maybe ocarina. He'd have a stretch in his personal leitmotif that would form a beautiful melody when paired with Twig's.
Sen
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Otherworldly voices harmonizing are a must for her, as are audio glitches disrupting and changing the flow of the melody that they're harmonizing in.
Dusknoir
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Dusknoir's theme would start off proud and almost boastful sounding when he's first introduced, then turn dark and intense when he's revealed as a villain, and would finally mellow out into something mournful yet soothing to listen to. I think he'd have cellos as a major piece of it.
Celebi
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Celebi’s theme would be very light and peppy— almost bouncy in sound, and definitely extremely cutesy. I can see the hum of insect wings or cicadas singing being used as a kind of atypical instrument that could be used.
Grovyle
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I'm not sure about instruments for him, but he'd have a very distinct leitmotif that would start off very aggressive and erratic sounding, then be slowed and softened in a way that makes it sound almost nostalgic later on.
Ark
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His theme’s instrumentation evades me— maybe a violin or clarinet? A harp? It would need to be an instrument that isn’t typically played alone. Either way, it would have several points where it would go oddly quiet and mournful. It’d be an all around very mellow, vaguely sad tune.
Cresselia
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Her theme would comprise of a piano— an instrument that is largely seen as a standalone in most compositions— and would layer perfectly over Ark's to make a complete song, the quiet parts of their individual themes allowing the other to stand out when they step back.
Opal
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She'd have music box-esque instrumentation for sure, and twist her parents' themes on their heads in a way that they become something unique— Twig's frantically happy notes would change key in such a way that they'd sound genuine, and Ark's quieter, melancholy stretches would be filled in by a lighter accompaniment.
This was such a fun ask hehe. I’ve always loved making pretend OSTs for my projects out of pre-existing songs, complete with alternate titles that would replace the original if the soundtrack were real— I should get back into that hobby and make a full one for TPiaG!
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hes-writer · 2 years
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Fine Line Series: Lights Up
summary: in which y/n can’t help but wonder where she stands in his life
warnings: angst, a bit of fluff, implied smut
word count: 2219 words
a/n: this is part of my FINE LINE series (IN PROGRESS!) where harry and y/n are fwb!
useful links: patreon masterlist | tumblr masterlist | part one, two, three | matt murdock masterlist
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If there was one word to describe what Y/N was feeling right now, it would be shame.
Her situationship with Harry was hardly wrong. They were both single, consenting individuals who came to each other in time of need. Affection and validation, to put it simply. It wasn’t like Harry was cheating on someone else with her, yet Y/N felt her shoulders slug her form because it felt like she was the other woman. The secret getaway you receive on the weekends; the ghost of a kiss tempting you on the side.
In a way, Y/N felt as though she was cockblocking Harry and his girl, Sloan. As though Y/N was the sole reason why they couldn’t get together; be together, because doing so meant having to break her heart. It was as if there was an unspoken word that they had given her the opportunity to move on first before essentially rubbing it in her face. Y/N knew it was all in good faith, even if it was not intentional. In fact, she kind of appreciated it–except there was no chance that Y/N would be able to detach herself from Harry anytime soon. Believe her, she had tried multiple times. With each time, Y/N only found more characteristics about him that she admired; that she loved with an inkling bit of annoyance because she wasn’t supposed to like him more. But somehow, her heart found a way to override the logical listings of her brain and overlooked each blaring alarm to stop falling deeper and to start climbing out of the hole she had managed to get herself in.
Sure, Harry was oblivious to her feelings–still perceiving her emotions as overemphasized showcases of her caring nature. Her feelings were friendly, her touches were friendly. It was all friendly. The way she dropped everything at a mere second’s notice because she’s always got Harry’s back was only amicable. Besides, Y/N couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because it was what they had agreed on some months ago.  When all of this had started, it wasn’t what you could call ‘heat of the moment’ because the pair of them continued on with little awkwardness. After that passionate night that had occurred between them, there wasn’t any avoidance–uncertainty, sure–but Harry and Y/N were so close that talking about it didn’t make a dent in their relationship.
So, they made ‘rules’; boundaries and limitations that not only included the sexual aspect of their budding relationship but it also encompassed the confines of their emotional capacities. It wasn’t like they weren’t allowed to catch feelings–they both recognized that controlling that realm was a lost cause because, well, you can’t really control them. It would just be preferable if they didn’t. And amongst it all, Harry and Y/N were both confident that these said hypothetical feelings had no possibilities of showcasing themselves. It was easy.
See, feelings made things complicated. For Y/N, it made her soft. It wasn’t a bad thing, per se. But what were once rough corners were now rounded edges that shifted her personality. Being with Harry–as a friend–made her see things from a new perspective; a way in which she saw the good intentions of people that attempted to get to know her. Y/N learned to smile at the small victories instead of scowling at how little she had accomplished. She began to view the glass as being half full and each millilitre as a stepping-off point to achieve a new height–no matter the difference.  It was refreshing for her. Y/N rarely thought about her thought process before Harry had come along with a set of eyes that had her comparing the two of them.
Y/N remembered the time when she baked chocolate chip cookies. It seemed simple enough to pull off; she was never really a baker in her years of living but Y/N figured that by paying meticulous attention to the instructions, there was no way that she could get it wrong. And well, Y/N had managed to get it wrong right off the bat. She had forgotten to grab a bag of sugar specific to the recipe so she was forced to use the one sitting in her pantry. The end result wasn’t that bad either. In fact, it was quite delicious but it wasn’t what Y/N was trying to pull off.
With such a mundane moment like that, Y/N would have usually beat herself up for not double-checking everything. But Harry was so enthusiastic about her cookies despite the mishap, going as far as complimenting her with a grin after taking a bite.  He was genuine, of course. Harry had said something along with the words ‘now, you know two recipes!’. Y/N laughed at his statement; it was so stupid and silly but damn if it wasn’t true. She just didn’t think of it that way.
See, feelings made things complicated. It muddled your mind and sparked a touch of idealized optimism as though nothing could go wrong. If there were any, it would be faced with calm positivity that encouraged someone that they could fix it with no problem. It was nice at times but now, it was really fucking annoying.
Y/N would find herself scoffing sometimes at how foolish she was being. How she wouldn’t even think of blocking a portion of her day just in case he’d call. She would spend hours at a time convincing herself that she had nothing to do anyway, so that if the time Harry ever did think of her as a first choice for once; she’d be there.
Always available, never too busy. For him, at least.
__
It was the third day this week that Harry saw Y/N at her place.
It was ‘the usual’ for them; to see each other often. Aside from their relationships, they were one of each other’s closest friends. So here Harry was, splayed on the couch of her apartment with a movie playing on the television screen.  Y/N attempted to remember the title and figure out the plot about twenty minutes ago but she had abandoned that ship since then. Something gnawed from deep inside her when the realization struck that Harry truly was only there for a movie, a chat, and some food.
He hadn’t even progressed from his position of closing in the distance between the two of them. Usually, Harry would encourage Y/N to lay her legs on his lap, his fingers tracing outlines of whatever image he could think of on her skin. That affection was missing. Y/N could tell because there was a waft of cold air bristling on her side, reminding her that there was a physical distance between their bodies; a sheer contrast from how this is usually projected.
It wouldn’t have bothered her if it was the first night she took note of it. Y/N would never force Harry to do anything he didn’t want. But when the second night came with no difference from before, Y/N had begun to feel an oozing feeling sprouting from her chest. Her heart dropped to her stomach, reacting to the acidity by making her feel sickly. Now, the third night was what confirmed everything for her. It was done. They were over.
“When were you gonna tell me?’
The soundtrack of the movie changed to an ominous one. How fitting, Y/N thought. Harry seemed to freeze in place, his eyes staying glued to the scene in front of him. Though, the stuttering of fingers told Y/N that he had heard her loud and clear.
“What?” He replied, inhaling deeply before shifting his body to face her. Y/N mirrored his actions.
Y/N didn’t even know what to say, didn’t know how to word it. So many thoughts ran through her mind, some more than others. She didn’t know if she was allowed to ask them. If someone were to come up to her and ask ‘do you know who you are to him?’. Y/N would say no because, at this moment, she represented nothing of relevance.
Y/N didn’t know who she was to him anymore.
“That this. . .” She gestured between them, the distance biting her with the emphasis, “This thing between us–it’s over isn’t it?”
Harry sighed, biting his lip. A nervous tick. Y/N hated that she knew that.
“I was going to tell you,”
“When?” Y/N pushed, “There is no time when you’re going to tell me without making me feel humiliated as I am now,”
It was true. Y/N felt like melting on the floor to avoid confrontation but at the same time, she really needed this to bring her peace.
“I-I didn’t know when but I was. Believe me, darling.”
She scoffed, “Okay, let’s say I believe you. What happened, then?”
Harry furrowed his brows at Y/N’s tone. His posture became defensive, more guarded.
“Why wouldn’t you believe me? I’ve been nothing but honest to you,”
“Have you? What about Sloan? Have you been honest to me about her?” Y/N raised her voice a tad bit. She was angry and frustrated, and Harry was looking at her was a crumpled face that resembled confusion.
“What–I don’t understand why you’re yelling at me. Frankly, I don’t appreciate it. I’ve been truthful with my intentions with Sloan and with you,”
Y/N stood up abruptly just as Harry let the last few words slip from his mouth. The television was too loud, causing her to swiftly grasp the remote and jam her thumb into the power button to turn it off. Y/N stared at Harry for a brief second before turning away from him, hiding her face away from his view. Why was she yelling at him?
She couldn’t upright say that she was jealous of Sloan; how she had harboured Harry’s romantic feelings towards her. Y/N couldn’t point out that it was the third night in a row that Harry had refused to touch her. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if Harry was in a relationship with someone that wasn’t her.
“Y/N?” A gentle touch was placed on her shoulder as Harry approached her with caution.  “Why are you crying?”
Y/N didn’t even notice tears brimming her eyes and wetting her cheeks.
She sniffled, “You’re so stupid,”
Y/N shook her head, staring up at his discombobulated face. “You’re so fucking stupid. You don’t even know,”
“What? Y/N, you’re not making any sense right now. I promise you that I have never lied to you,” He pleaded with Y/N to make her believe him.
He didn’t need to do that. She did. It was just another stab in the heart to hear and see him being so patient with her. Y/N hated herself for letting things go as far as they did.
“I know that. I’m just. . . crying like a baby because it’s not me that you want. It’s her, isn’t it? You love her.  You told me that you loved her after I told you how I felt. Do you remember that? God, I hope you don’t,” She muttered the last part under her breath, “You were kissing me, touching me, being with me–but it’s her that you want.”
“Y/N. . .” Harry began, words caught in his throat as her assumptions strangled him in a place of ultimatum.
Y/N took steps back away from him, now favouring the distance that was between them only minutes prior. She should have done this ages ago; detach and separate.
“You should leave.  I want you to leave,” Y/N held her head high after a moment of hesitance.
“We should talk about this,”
“No!” Y/N yelped, halting Harry in place before he got any closer to her. He was magnetic and she knew she didn’t stand a chance. “Please, leave. There’s–there’s nothing to say. I caught feelings when we established that this was. . only platonic. I fucked up. It wasn’t you; you don’t need to apologize. We don’t need to talk about it. You just. . you go be with her. I’ll call you when–if–I’m ready,”
Y/N winced at the numerous voice cracks that littered her monologue. Could she be any more pathetic right now? With that being said, Y/N felt her breathing get a little easier. There was no one to blame but her. He needed to know that for the sake of herself.
Harry mauled over what Y/N had said, his legs stuttering as he contemplated stepping forward or stepping back. He stepped away, nodding his head. He slowly gathered his things sprawled on the coffee table as if to give Y/N a chance to change her mind and let them discuss things. She didn’t.
He was walking towards the hallway leading to the door, lethargically as if the life had been drained out of him. Harry sighed just as the door handle was in his grip. He shook his head, a ghost of a sad smile splintering his face. Y/N wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t watching him closely.
“For the record, I wasn’t going to apologize,”
___
fin.
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randomnameless · 8 months
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"Like, Miss “I already sent my troops to conquer your lands even if you are not the one harbouring the evil lizard lady I’m trying to get rid off” would really stop her war of conquest if the evil lizard lady dies?" You could say Clout's reasoning smacks of naivete.
Clout? Reasoning?
lol
Imo, in GW, Clout is playing on levels after levels of PR (like an onion!), and this "let's kill Rhea so the war will stop" is imo a PR excuse to justify invading Faerghus and getting Rhea out of the board.
Now, why the hateboner for Rhea herself, your guess is as good as mine (at least Supreme Leader has her "negative views based on Rhea's race", but I don't know it that's any better...).
(ramblings about Claude/Clout under the cut)
Claude isn't stupid (uh...) and knows Fodlan created the locket and the Officers Academy to fight back invasions of Almyra, and yet he seems to really believe (in FE16 at least) that Rhea is the reason why Fodlan apparently doesn't like foreigners, before discovering water is wet.
Worst reading, but one I can get behind, is Claude doesn't understand and resents the fact that Rhea, who is not a head of state, is listened to and loved by the randoms in Fodlan, she can influence them (only when they want to be infuenced though!) and the CoS, as an institution, is part of Fodlan's history and DNA/backbone.
If Claude wants to shatter everything to bring a "new age" where Fodlan will welcome with open arms their very friendly Almyran neighbours, Rhea has to be "shattered" too.
Take VW's ending :
Country, faith, history... All that had once formed the order of the world was wiped clean. The heroes whose very hands saved Fódlan from a dark fate commenced with the building of a new society. The leaders of this new, unified Fódlan began their walk down a seemingly endless path—one towards a world that would cherish differences in race and belief, one where all life would be valued equally. Those leaders clung to the hope that their path would not end with Fódlan, that it would someday span the seas to Dagda, and beyond the Throat to Almyra...
You get rid of the old and existing society/structure, to build a new one, based on lofty ideals, sure, and yet, again, how can you cherish differences in beliefs in you wipe Fodlan's faith, aka the thing people believed in? What about their history and individualities/differences ? It's wiped clean too?
A bit like Tru Piss's mistranslated ending where people thought it will erase retroactively Faerghus from history books, are we supposed to understand , from this ending, that Claude will erase Adrestia, Faerghus and Leicester from memory?
And the ominous last paragraph, what does it mean, they hope to export their path of "wiping clean" the world of "country, faith, history" too?
If we take this reading, Rhea and the CoS are inherent parts of Fodlan's identity and History. If Claude wants a blank chessboard to play "melting pot" with and ultimately add it to his future pot including Almyra, Dagda and whoever else, Rhea and the CoS, but also, the different states from Fodlan, had to disappear. Supreme Leader helped him with the "get rid of 3 states" and arguably with Rhea's death, so in a way, Claude reaps what Supreme Leader started.
But not to MAGA, to create a new land encompassing everyone (whether they want it or not!) and being one of its heads.
This is, imo, the darkest take/reading on Claude's situation and plans, but bear in mind yellow units in FE Jugdral (the game tool inspiration from Jugdral per the devs!) are antagonists, add to that Nopes and even FE16's Claude who, albeit not on the level of Supreme Leader, keeps his plans to himself - and always mentions tearing down the "walls" that separate Fodlan from the outside world, without ever mentionning the fact those walls were built for some reason.
It's not important anyways, and if you think otherwise, it's because you were led to think otherwise, we should all be friends.
Sure, interacting with outsiders doesn't contradicts Seiros's tenets, but in the end, what is Claude saying?
If I can realize my dream, Fódlan will be reborn. The old age will end and we'll welcome a new dawn.
The current Fodlan, that is supposed to follow Seiros's tenets will... end? Seiros' tenets says something, but they still need to be ignored to build a new world that will promote the same thing those tenets preached.
Hm.
The issue, imo, isn't about what is being preached, but with the "Seiros tenets" in themselves.
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cheeseanonioncrisps · 2 years
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Nothing against Vampire Romance, but I really want to see more Vampire Found Family.
Vampires who were torn from their old lives when they were bitten. Who watched their families grieve from the shadows, and then watched them wither and die and grieved for them themselves.
Vampires who have loved and lost so completely and yet still, despite it all, decide to try again. Who find other people in the same situation and choose to call each other sibling/parent/child/etc. despite knowing how terribly it could all go wrong.
Vampires who start off presenting themselves as a family purely for convenience, because you need some explanation to give to the humans as to how this bunch of people are all linked to you and why you all look and act so similar.
("Red eyes run in the family. It's a genetic thing— it's a bit rude to point it out, actually." "Doesn't everybody's family sleep in coffins? Maybe you're the weird ones!")
Vampires who wake up one night and realise that it's not a lie anymore. That somewhere along the line they just started to forget that their 'sister', or their 'cousin' or weird Uncle Vlad wasn't actually a blood relation (at least not in that sense) and now they just think of them as family.
Vampires who don't bother to apply specific labels to their relationships, but enjoy watching the humans struggle to guess exactly how all these people are all connected to each other (blood relatives? Polycule? Foster family? Roommates?).
Vampires who keep up with the local gossip and deliberately toss out contradictory hints and give oblique answers to any questions just to fuel the fire.
Vampires who are the only immortal member of their found family, who fit in so effortlessly and yet sometimes leave their friends wondering exactly how many iterations of this they've already been through. How many times have they found a new group of people to call home? How many times have they sat in a bar watching everyone drink and making those exact same terrible jokes?
(How many times have they watched it all fall apart, watched their loved ones wither and die, and then grieved, mourned, got back up started the cycle all over again?)
Vampires who brush aside these kind of questions when asked, but who keep a collection of old photos, sketches, letters and trinkets in a box in their room that they won't let anybody else touch.
Alternatively, vampires who are so old and so lost to immortality that they end up attaching themselves to family groups more than individuals.
Vampires who will pop in for a few months to help with the new baby, vanish for nearly two decades and then come back to attend her graduation without really noticing the gap.
Vampires who have a habit of addressing everybody by their ancestor's names indiscriminately, and are often genuinely caught off guard to realise that the person in front of them is the great-great grandchild of the person they thought they were talking to. Whose family members are used to being asked "do you remember?" about events that happened decades before they were born, or having to finish conversations that were started with their grandparents.
Vampires who have complicated extended families based on who they were bitten by, who else was bitten by that person, who they then went on to bite, etc… that if traced back far enough can basically encompass every other vampire in existence.
Vampires who would have to consult several complicated family trees to explain to their human friends exactly how they're related to this person, "but basically he's my cousin Bill and he's sleeping on my sofa for a few days while he's in town."
Vampires whose relationships change over the course of their long lifespans. Who form family groups with other vampires that last maybe the length of a human lifespan, and then drift apart as everyone moves on to other groups with other people. Who can be as close as siblings one century and then merely close acquaintances the next.
Vampires consider this a natural part of immortality, and have words to describe ex-family members and the relationships between them.
Just… more Vampire Found Family, y'know?
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wonder-worker · 6 months
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What is remarkable, however, is not the amount of land Alice (Perrers) received passively as gifts of the king, but that she actually acquired the majority of her estate through her own initiative. Of her total landholdings, she independently obtained forty-three manors and twenty-seven other properties compared to the twenty-five manors and twenty-five other properties she received directly from the king. In terms of cash outlay, Alice spent an impressive £3,360 purchasing just fourteen properties. Moreover, because a large number of the lands from the king were granted as part of wardships, the number of manors therefore represents a much smaller number of individual grants. In contrast to this, each of Alice’s own acquisitions generally encompassed only one or two manors and associated properties at a time. Many of these lands were not held or acquired by Alice directly. Instead, she employed the legal mechanism of enfeoffment-to-use, whereby a select group of loyal men owned and disposed of the property on Alice’s behalf, taking the profits to her use. This process could be extremely complex, and in theory meant that the landowner could avoid feudal incidents from the crown and loss of land through forfeiture. Undoubtedly aware of the vulnerable position she would find herself in following Edward III’s death, Alice used enfeoffment-to-use on no fewer than seventy-eight occasions to either acquire or transfer property. Unfortunately for her, however, the greatest testament to Alice’s use of this device is the fact that the terms of her forfeiture were specifically expanded to cover property held in this form, something which set a precedent for all future parliamentary forfeiture and attainders. Although Alice undoubtedly used her position as Edward’s mistress to her advantage in these transactions—in terms of both influence and resources—this proactive, independent, and intelligent acquisition and management of her estate is, therefore, nonetheless remarkable for any individual, male or female, of her time.
-Laura Tompkins, '"Edward III's Gold Digging Mistress": Alice Perrers, Gender, and Financial Power at the English Royal Court, 1360-1377', "Women and Economic Power in Premodern Courts" (edited by Cathleen Sarti)
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hausofneptune · 4 months
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[the astrology of pedro pascal] - soft moon aspects (major) | moon trine chiron
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hey y’all! in this series we’ll be covering major soft/positive aspects (conjunctions, sextiles, and trines) to pedro’s moon. minor positive aspects to his moon (quintiles/biquintiles and septiles) will be covered in an upcoming series, as well as the rest of the major and minor aspects to the rest of his planets and asteroids in his chart! i also want to note that when it comes to these aspects, they have to be examined through the lens of the entire chart, as they’re influenced by a myriad of factors within it.
disclaimers | masterlist | ask
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moon trine chiron (within 10.0°)
in this aspect, the planetary bodies are harmonious and their energies are naturally and positively expressed. the moon represents our subconscious feelings, our feminine (light/yin) sides, how we show up emotionally, how we crave nurturement, as well as our home and familial dynamics. it’s also indicative of our mother/maternal figures, our relationships to them, and how we perceive them to love and nurture us. chiron is notably referred to as the “wounded healer.” it is representative of the strength we find through our pain and vulnerabilities, and our ability to empathize and pass on wisdom through our suffering.
with the moon trine chiron, there’s wounding surrounding the expression of our emotions that requires healing. these individuals are givers, but may struggle with receiving care or nurturement from those around them. fortunately, with the trine, the navigation of their pain tends to be easier, as they may have the capacity to give themselves more grace in their perceived flaws and faults. they should work alongside their emotional triggers, as they give them opportunities to process their chironic wounds and find healing. with the moon aspecting chiron, they’re gifted the inherent insight to understand how their subconscious affects their emotional expression.
there may have some form of wounding surrounding their childhood or upbringing, and they may have experienced turbulence in the home or within their familial dynamics. there could also be pain or trauma stemming from the relationship to the mother/maternal figure in their lives. they may have felt that she was either emotionally abusive or emotionally distant, and failed to give them the nurturement they needed in youth. 
although, because we’re dealing with a trine, this could’ve manifested in the complete opposite way. the mother’s own life could’ve been difficult, and she may have struggled during pregnancy/childbirth. she could’ve found healing through the nurturement of her child, and encouraged them to embrace their emotions and cared for them through their pain and strife. 
they can come off as sensitive or emotionally intense, as they typically feel things in a deep, all-encompassing way. they may find it difficult to accept care from others. they feel that no one around them can understand the depth and power of their emotions, and as a result may feel unsatisfied or like nobody understands them despite their ability to easily soothe those around them. 
these natives tend to be extremely intuitive, and feel inclined to make decisions based on their gut feelings. they also tend to be great artists or musicians. the way they approach both their and others’ emotions in adulthood is a result of how validated they did or didn’t feel in youth. despite their hardships, they acquire an innate empathetic and nurturing nature towards others, and may find “chosen family” through their friendships. 
as always, if anyone has any of the placements or aspects mentioned in this post i’d love to hear how it personally manifests in your own life and how it impacts your personality, or if anyone has anything to add in general feel free to reach out and let me know!
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fatehbaz · 2 years
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“We are all lichens.” The “shifting contours” of creatures as distinct species, and “what counts as an organism.” Entities are ”bound up” with other organisms and environments. Lichen are composite organisms, partially built or defined by environmental and/or “social” relationships with other species. What constitutes “human” is not a fixed entity. “More-than-human sociality” and engaging with creatures from “their” point of view.
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[B]ioindication [observing lichen as indicator species for health of an ecosystem] [...] gives rise to more specualtive engagements. By speculative [...]: the distributive capacity of organisms and environments to generate new modes of encounter together with new propositions for ways of being. […] Subjects, relations and milieus all have the potential to shift and transform, and are not pre-given, although they can be in-formed by sedimentations and inheritances. This is also to say that what constitutes ‘human’ is not a fixed entity, and can shift in relation […]. Here and in relation to lichens […], speculation also extends to the shifting contours of what counts as an organism […].
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Research focusing on the symbiotic characteristics of lichens suggests that even the notion of an organism as an individual is fraught with problems, and that a more ecological notion of subjects better characterises how entities are bound up with multiple other organisms and environments.
In this way, one group of researchers working on symbiosis has suggested […] that ‘we are all lichens’. […]
Although there are approximately 13,500 ‘formally described’ lichen species (and an anticipated 25,000 actual lichens), the contours of lichens as distinct ‘species’ are also shifting, since they are organisms made up of a fungus, alga or cyanobacteria, and even a third entity in the form of yeast. The fungal partner provides the structure and protection for the lichen, while the alga produces food in the form of chlorophyll that the fungus taps for sustenance. As composite organisms and relationships situated across multiple kingdoms, lichens are further entangled with vegetation since they both live on vegetation and make substrates available to vegetations by breaking down and weathering rocks and soils. […]
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One could encounter such a lichen garden in-the-making in the Arctic, for instance, where these organisms are not only pervasive but are also key to the ecologies found there. […] Lichens, for instance, provide sustenance for reindeer and by extension Indigenous people in the Arctic, an environment where considerable changes are underway due to resource extraction in the form of mining and logging. The disruption of lichens captures the emergence of environmental justice issues […]. In Kilpisjarvi, a location in the Finnish Arctic, a debate has unfolded over time about land use conflicts which encompass biologists, reindeer herders, lichens, conservation areas, and rare flowers […]. Extractive industries, recreational housing, as well as conservation areas and biological field stations, contribute to the shifting landscape of lichens and its relations to other entities. 
In this way, Tsing has discussed the ways in which organisms can be productive of forms of ‘more-than-human sociality’. A forest, for instance, encompasses not just […] individual organisms, but also materialises and sustains the more-than-human social worlds that are made through these organisms. […] The shared ‘phytosociological associations’ and ‘multidimensional relationships’ of indicator organisms are an area of speculative possibility […].
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The notion of engaging with organisms through their ‘point of view’ is one that now populates a wide range of environmental theory and practice. In her work on matsutake mushrooms, Tsing considers how to take into account perspective from fungal points of view, which might recast encounters with forests, where multiple overlooked ‘participants’ begin to have more marked roles in constituting ‘social relations with other beings’. […]
A lichen point of view, in this case, would take seriously the ways in which this environmental subject is taking account of, and forming experiences of, its world. […] This has further consequences for how we encounter ‘the ends of the world’ as an environmental event, as well as a remaking of the worlds that we might cultivate and care for. […]
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Text by: Jennifer Gabrys. “Sensing Lichens: From Ecological Microcosms to Environmental Subjects.” Third Text 32. 2018. [Bolded emphasis and italicized first paragraph added by me.]
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bi-kisses · 1 year
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hi may I ask what do you think about this tiktok? https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMY5UdYSV/ personally I find that they’re only trying to explain that NB/Queer people have always existed based on different cultural backgrounds but I wanted to ask what do you think of it
originally I was just gonna say what I always do about these ancient third genders being examples of homophobia, transphobia, and sexism. But I decided to actually prove that.
Their first point: Mesopotamia, 2000 BC. They had "neither male nor female" individuals who were "created by god".
In actuality: the gender roles were incredibly strict in their culture. Any form of deviance from "men stronk hunter, active and virile" meant you couldn't be a real man. If you actually look into their "neither male nor female" figures, you're met with:
feminine men who were forced under the "third gender" label to maintain strict masculine/feminine divide
an ambiguously-bodied cult god(dess), changing men to women/women to men as a way to again maintain masculinity and femininity's rigidity.
castrated castle servants
(source)
Second point: Egyptian "Sekhet", a third gender.
This one is SOOO funny because it just... isn't real? If you search for it online, the only thing that turns up is this absolutely referenceless "wikidata" article with a fun flag.
Did you mean: Sekhmet? Sekhmet is an Egyptian goddess, not at all ambiguously gendered, and not at all related to non binary genders.
Third point: Hijra, the Indian third gender.
I've talked about Hijra before but if you want the full breakdown;
This article's very first line says that Hijra are trans women. But the actual history of Hijra, the one that dates soooo far back historically, is of a god merging with his wife and becoming ambiguously sexed.
If you look at what makes someone Hijra, it's just... being LGBT. And in India, they're seen as vagabond and entertainers who roam around begging for money because of the discrimination and exploitation they face.
The New York Times goes into the modern Hijra, where their example is a bullied AFAB groomed into sex work at the age of 8. I'm not going to touch that. It is explained, however, that many Hijra exist in a sex work pyramid scheme with a top-dog Hijra getting all the money and offering protection to her many "chelas" and continue recruiting.
In fact, India legally recognizes all "transgender" people as being a third gender. Make of that what you will.
Fourth point: Scythians, a nomadic who heralded gender non conforming people as priests and warriors.
First of all, I'd like to say just how misleading the poster's segue into this point was? As if all Scythians were non binary? When that obviously wasn't the case. They had one form of "third gender", called Enarei or Anarya, which, I shit you not, translates to "unmanly". Telling on ourselves with this one.
From what I could find, this role was actually adopted by men who specifically couldn't have sex anymore for some reason. In legend, they came to be from an effeminacy curse from Aphrodite. There's very little information about this group and yet we can already see it's more of the same.
They also claim that Scythians had early HRT by using licorice root. I could find zero evidence for this, only an article that explained they used licorice root to stay hydrated in the desert.
Fifth point: Two Spirit, the native "umbrella" for non-"western" genders
I don't even want to explain at this point because it's such a dry topic, a long-beaten dead horse, but the term Two Spirits is a modern invention and the "genders" it encompasses are, likewise, ways to other or "explain" LGBT people.
You can look into any one of these genders for the proof, as I will do here: Take the wíŋkte, a contraction of a term that translates to "man who wants to be a woman". It's just... trans women. In the modern day, the same term basically just means gay man. Deviance from the typical male role meant you were classified as something totally other, as we can see, and if a trans woman wanted to, well, be a woman, she was instead ostracized from both sexes.
I've even had a native explain to me that 2S is a secondary role that has nothing to do with your sex or gender and is purely spiritual, not relevant to LGBT discussions whatsoever.
Their final point was literally "woman with a [penis] weapon", which derives from anglo-saxon history and was... insulting, from the little I could find. It wasn't an epic cool third gender, it was something to call trans/intersex people.
So we've reached the end. Now, the video itself isn't wrong, we've had the notion of non-binary genders and sexes for ages, but we also have the hindsight to understand these categories were sexist reinforcements of gender roles and a way to move the homosexuals and transsexuals into their own box that wouldn't disrupt the rest of society by trying to actually be perceived as, like, normal human beings.
Non binary today isn't overly different, unfortunately! For every person that claims it's a scientific phenomenon with androgynous dysphoria, there's a hundred more who describe it as not feeling like they "fit in" with other girls/guys.
Which is, again, just sexism and the enforcement of gender roles.
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anonymooseforever007 · 10 months
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Tag Lists For Fics
Hi Y'all❤️ I don't know if anyone's interested but I'm gonna start making tag lists for stories if anyone wants to be on them. Y'all can jump on or off of them whenever you want and I'm going to try to start adding them to the ends of my fics or in a reblogged list. Also some of the list are for series that aren't official/haven't been started yet, but I have a plan to make them. Those ones are marked with ** by them. The lists I'm gonna try to make are as follows with some examples/explanation of the stories they may be attached to:
GENERAL TAG LISTS:
Peaky Everything - Every Peaky Related Fic, even if it's platonic or there isn't a set relationship or reader insert at all (Ex: Romantic Escape, Field Deer. Forest Horse, Shadow by The Bed, Pictures on the Wall, etc....It's literally everything)
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Peaky Romantic - Every Reader/OC Peaky Fic that involves a stated romantic/ non platonic relationship as part of the big focus (Ex: Romantic Escape, I know Him, Whiskey Kisses, etc...)
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Peaky Platonic - Every Reader/OC Peaky fic that involves a platonic relationship as a big focus (Ex: Field Deer. Forest Horse, I know Him, His Aunt's Stories, anything from the My Girl Series, etc...)
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Pure Peaky Peaky - Any non Reader/OC based Peaky fic I've written where the main focus of the story is on the show's characters (Ex: Shadow by the Bed, Pictures on the Wall, A Tour to Remember, etc...)
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Totally Top Gun- Any fic related to Top Gun once I am able to start making my way through planning those ideas again. As of now most of them will likely be about snippets in the life of Mrs. Y/N Floyd from Wanna Buy You A Drink.
SERIES TAG LISTS:
My Girl Series - Any new chapters to the My Girl Series. This is the one that alternates back and forth over the past and present life of Tommy Shelby's daughter (reader) who was raised in America after he died in France during the war.
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Pictures on the Wall Series - While this three part mini series Finn and his relationship with the Shelby mother is officially complete, I recently had one more idea for a mini epilogue that I'd like to write at some point. So I'm opening this list in case anyone would want to see that part when it comes to it!
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**Sweet Oblivion Series - Not a series that's been officially started, but one I have plans for. It would encompass some more fics in the same universe as I Know Him about Finn Shelby dating Alfie's bouncy sunshine stepdaughter who isn't aware of the men's real profession.
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**Woo Me Mister Series - This technically also isn't a series I have ongoing at the moment because I'm currently stuck plot wise, but it would encompass the AU that fics The Proposal and The Engagement are set in. This whole series would be about the year Luca spends trying to win over the Shelby Sister who is determined to avoid an arranged marriage, but also isn't above trying to live her best romance novel life.
INDIVIDUAL CHARACTERS TAG LISTS:
*Note this would be for every fic romantic or platonic for when the character is one of the main subjects*
Finn Shelby
Alfie Solomons
Tommy Shelby
Michael Gray
John Shelby
Arthur Shelby
Luca Changretta
And yeah, those are the lists I would make for now if anyone wants to be one them. There may be a lot but I blame it on my ADHD induced desire to sub organise everything :D If you want to be on any of them just let me know through an ask, message, comment, or anything else you're comfortable with! (You could even try it on any other form of social media I have. If you do that I will be as impressed as I am terrified you'd obtained that information.)
ALSO! One more thing about them. So I know that even if someone really likes a character there may still be topics in a fic that just are not their thing. So if there really is a theme or topic that really bothers you feel free to let me know and I will try to make a note of it and temporarily take you of the list for those fics alone. (Ex: Hey, I want to be on your Alfie tag list but I am absolutely horrified of Cyril, please don't tag me in the fics where he's a big part." Can do! "Hi! I would like to be on the Peaky Romantic List but absolutely don't do pregnancy or OC kids." Sounds Fair. "Hello. Can I be added to the XXX Tag List? But I really don't like XXX. Is that ok? " Sure is!, etc...)
Let me know if y'all want to be on any of these list and have a great day❤️❤️
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eachlittlebird · 1 year
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I wanted to write something for Andor, so in lieu of any requested prompts I chose one from this list. Here’s a little piece about Cassian and Mon Mothma.
Sparkling + Andor
It was a beautiful view.
Coruscant spread itself out beneath the widest window of the Chandrilian Embassy like a sparkling multicolored sea, blue depths and silver heights lined and crossed by motes of color across the visible spectrum. Whole worlds that would have filled dozens of smaller planets were encompassed in the planet-city, squared off and stacked one atop the other like the rock cairns Chandrilian children built along river banks. Over the centuries these unique worlds, these enclaves of cultures from across the galaxy, had been further compressed, their edges melding into one another, some rising towards the stratosphere, some sinking towards the crust.
If she had had the time years earlier to stand at the window as she was doing now, Mon Mothma might have appreciated the view. Not that she had more time now: on the contrary, time was running out. It occurred to her that there were so many things she had missed, dashing from committee to committee, vote to vote. She had thought she was rushing to cover everything, to let nothing slip; now she realized everything that truly mattered had eluded her and fallen between the cracks, crushed like those communities in the substratum of the city, pushed into darkness by the weight of the loftier things up above.
The view took Mon’s breath away. But it wasn’t the breathlessness of awe that left her feeling as light-headed as a diver who’d ventured too deep, lungs aching in a panic for air. Despite the multitude of lights, thick as stars, all Mon could see was darkness. Coruscant was built on corruption: that was the material pushing the highest towers towards the sky. The corruption of the Empire was but the largest layer in a strata of rot that reached down to the very core of the planet. Perhaps to the core of every planet. Wherever sentient species built communities, developed commerce, formed governments to rule themselves and their neighbors, corruption wormed its way in, growing from a germ into a full-blown infection. Corrupt thoughts became corrupt deeds, small acts at first that merely bent the rules, cheated a neighbor, gained an edge over someone else’s honest toil. Like floors of permacrete, the corruption built: individuals joined a criminal gang that ruled a zone, criminal gangs linked to form syndicates that spanned systems, corporations threaded with corruption staked unlawful claims to vast swathes of resource-rich territory. And from the highest pinnacle, the Empire’s corruption pressed down and pulled up: extracting, pushing, draining, wasting, grinding up everyone and everything and exerting a weight so exhausting that people lost the energy required for rage.
Staggering amounts of corruption. Palpatine’s. The corpos. The syndicates. Her own.
Where had her corruption first taken hold? In the lie that was her marriage to Perrin? In all the times she’d turned a blind eye, buying aid for one planet by letting corruption oppress another for a little longer? She hadn’t thought of it as corruption at the time, but as compromise, holding her nose through unpleasant business so she could sneak some small good past the grasping hands and watchful eyes. She had always used her power to help others. But having power, and holding it, was itself an act of corruption in the present system. Living with wealth, sleeping in comfort, while tens of thousands could not, fed the slow growth of corruption in the soul.
Now she stood on the threshold of the greatest compromise she’d ever been forced to swallow, the highest stakes swap of one precious hope for another. The value of the commodities being traded this time were immeasurable and she could not look away from the seedy details of the transaction, not when it was happening within the very walls of her home. Was the good that might come of it worth the astronomical price? Could the salvation of billions ever make up for the sale of one soul? Maybe, but Mon could only consider it the ultimate act of corruption. There was no betrayal more damning than one rooted in love.
The lights of Coruscant merged into one dull indistinguishable blur beyond the film of Mon’s tears, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing to see outside that broad Embassy window except a dying city, built of venality and lies.
***
A sea breeze blew in over the sand, ruffling Cassian’s hair the way Maarva’s fingers had when, as a child, he’d sat bent over a data pad, learning his Aurebesh letters. He could still see, with startling clarity, the indulgent warmth of her smile, and he struggled to swallow. Melshi had already walked away and Cassian could let the tears flow. But he’d learned long ago that there was some pain too severe to even allow for crying.
Instead Cassian turned and looked out at the ocean. Rows upon rows of breakers rolled, mild and orderly, towards the beach. The sun of Niamos was setting, shading the sky a soft pink as it sank and sparkling on the edges of the waves like molten gold. He didn’t want to find anything to admire in the view - a single positive thought in the depth of his grief seemed like a betrayal - but Cassian couldn’t help it. He didn’t know how, couldn’t quite believe it, but there was something of Maarva there at that moment. Something in the unapologetic vibrancy of the pink sky. Something in the stubborn forward momentum of the waves. Something in the boisterous chatter of the seabirds out on the sand, the call of one to another echoing Maarva’s brash laughter.
Cassian didn’t know if Maarva had ever visited Niamos. But she was there now, with him. Wherever he went, he knew she always would be.
He faced the ocean squarely, drew the salty air into his lungs, feeling it expand his chest and brace him up, scrubbing the last of Narkina 5 from his skin.
Yes, it was a beautiful view.
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