Before meeting you so many theories went spiraling around in my mind and then, I saw you. All my thoughts are vanished like they are never been there. Under the open sky, unaware of the crowd, your eyes searching for me, I love how imperfectly perfect you are. How beautiful adorned you are, covered in black top with blue jeans. My eyes refused to look anywhere else. I can smell the fragrance of your magic upon me, you are a piece of art, pinned into my heart as though a dart. Holding hands, a long drive in winters on Delhi roads. There is a peace, that fills the colours and make my each and every wound heal. You're not someone who I would confess to, more often, you're someone I wouldn't give up on. ( thank you for the gift 馃)
I met you in old Delhi, I left my mark in Delhi.. The moments which we woven with a golden threads. ( Ho tujhse milna purani Dilli Mai, chodd aaye nishani dilli mai馃挄)
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Finished your latest chapter, and I was at rge ended if my seat from beginning to end. Amazing!
And at the end of the chapter I thought of an inquiry:
What if y/n is a hunter/fisherman instead of a photographer? How would they have met, and what would the dynamics be like? Would they bring each other kills to give to the other to show off? Or in Eclipse's case, courting gifts? Still would figure y/n wouldn't realize what Eclipse is actually doing.
Oh, man, I just flashbacked to Fisher Y/N from Deep Waves but for an AP fisher? They'd be a bit disgruntled and grumpy. Very hard working, set on the task and won't stop until it's done. They've got a shell that rivals crabs. Very gruff but has a heart hidden somewhere under all those brusque layers.
Of course, you're spooked when Eclipse pops his head up (he's a lot more terrifying, not trusting humans on their boats with their harpoons.) Still, once he sees that you're alone and also, well, pretty, he tones it back a bit to actually talk to you while still dangling you halfway off your boat above the icy cold of the sea. You manage to yell at the siren to put you back. While Eclipse does so, he promises to bring you fine fish, the best of the best. You wave him off like "Yeah, yeah, as long as you don't ruin my nets and don't kill me."
The next day, he's got a fat catch. You thought you got rid of him, but like a stray cat that's been fed once, he's back. If he can chat, he can help you push the nets onto your boat so the fish don't flop out and get away. You might pick one cod out (the best one but you would rather die before admitting so) and toss it to Eclipse for his lunch, as thanks, or something like that. Eclipse would beam at the exchange of gifts so soon but you're too busy trying to not slip on the half-frozen, half-wet deck to notice.
You know sirens are bad news, but you have the mindset of 'Eclipse hasn't killed me yet, and there's work to be done, so I better hop to it.' That kind of attitude, however, is what gets you into Eclipse's mandated cuddle sessions as he decides you've been working too long and require a break. Guess who is getting yanked across the deck, forcibly cradled, and persuaded to take a twenty-minute break by a large, touchy siren? You, of course!
It's unusual to endure this kind of attention (and maybe you thought no one would touch you like this, make you feel like you're not just a ghost on the sea.) You put your shoulder to the wheel and get the catch while navigating Eclipse's hands of avarice.
You learn quickly that there's no use trying to get out of his arms once he has you. You also learn that he likes seals, but you try to catch squid and even, once or twice, small sharks for him to snatch on. He returns the favor with a bounty of fish and even guides you to better fishing spots. He's always eager to hand you the fish he catches to you personally. You don't think too much of it when you take it in your gloved hands and his grin widens. (You think he looks infatuated whenever you stumble upon an old seashell or half-plucked feathers or shiny, chipped scales and figure he might think it's pretty, but you don't take it to heart鈥攈e probably just likes trinkets.)
One day, when the sea is calm and the fish are nowhere to be found, Eclipse decides you are due for a break. You both lounge on the deck of your smelly boat. You don't even push away Eclipse's hands while precious work minutes slip by, resting your head on his chest to his great pleasure. Eclipse manages to coax a few confesses from your lips with a few slippery musical notes in his voice. You really don't know why you start rambling like this, like a fool. You tell him you don't have anybody, but nobody has you. Sometimes, you don't feel like a person because the only time you talk to another human being is when business over the fish is conducted. You're so used to not having anyone to talk to that when you talk to Eclipse, your voice becomes hoarse and dry, but you don't mind. You don't mind at all, lately.
He tells you in that way of his that is as true as the sun and moon that he has you. You don't believe him, but you pull out a little... gift you've been quietly crafting for the past while you've known him.
Now is as good as ever to give him a simple piece of jewelry you made with a cord and yet another seashell that's so old and pale pink that no one will notice or care for it, but he takes it from you with awe. He ties it around his wrist and shows you how pretty it looks against his black and white markings. He says you need to strengthen your voice. You need to talk to him more. He will listen, and he will listen when you sing, too. The mere thought of you singing of all things jars you enough to finally pull you out of this fancy and get you back on your feet, scouring the sea for fish to catch.
Eclipse is still wearing the seashell when he drops back into the water, and he doesn't let you out of his sights on the sea. You're left to wonder if you're a fool for giving a siren a gift or for feeling pleased that he wears it so proudly.
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I think there's this idea of privilege that people have where if you are privileged, you become a bad person, and the more privilege you possess, the worse of a person you are, like privlege is a nuclear bomb warehouse that you can add stock into.
This is an incomplete outlook on privilege because it places blame on individuals with privilege rather than the systems which give certain people privilege, while at the same time ignoring others to their detriment.
A cis person isn't bad because they have the privilege of not being trans. The system in place which prioritize cis voices, opinions, bodies, and, ultimately, cis lives over trans ones is bad. These are important distinctions because something like trans liberation will not be a reality if we don't dismantle the system which places trans people as lesser.
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"Amy's just an obsessive fangirl," then explain her reaction to Sonic in Unleashed? Most fans and paparazzi and whatnot ditch their favorite for a new favorite the second their favorite turns weird or ugly. But Amy still loves werehog Sonic as much as daytime Sonic. Once she understands, she's like, "Oh, this is who you are now. Cool. I hope you're all right. Now when can we have a date?"
Granted, she doesn't necessarily have her priorities in order there, but she still cares about him. She just got confused when she first saw him. I saw a translation of her Japanese dialogue one time, and she said something like, "But I know I felt Sonic's presence." As soon as Amy finds out it really is Sonic, she's by his side again. As far as any of them knows, Sonic could be like this the rest of his life, and she doesn't care, as long as she can be with him.
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