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vindelllas · 4 years ago

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the beauty of jyeshta 🐇🏹:

🐇 alexa demie: jyeshta surya

*TW// i do discuss a few triggering topics i.e. abuse and drugs. some of the jyeshta natives i exhibit and talk about are known for terrible behavior and scandals. i do not condone their offensive and ignorant behavior. they are simply being shown to solidify my opinions on the nature of this nakshatra*

as you read this post, please listen to this jyeshta playlist i made for the full experience: https://open.spotify.com/user/a95141rv0vjdg8lqcggilvcxm/playlist/3gzS9sXWs71yb2i9EiBhSY?si=xtP4mnRnR7ahXfN09KwiRw

🏹 they key to unearthing the energies of jyeshta lie in studying it’s associative deities. before we dive down the rabbit hole of the jyeshta nakshatra, let us understand the representative mahavidya of buddha. it is traditionally believed that the tantric goddess tripura sundari is associated with buddha. tripura sundari is also known as the goddess shodashi. the goddess shodashi is said to be the most beautiful in all three worlds. the goddess shodashi is also known as lalita and rajarajeshwari. lalita means “the one who plays” and rajarajeshwari means “queen of queens”. the tantric goddess tripura sundari is a form of mahalakshmi and, therefore, symbolizes wealth and abundance. according to tripura sundari’s dhyana mantra, her complexion radiates with the light of the rising sun. she emanates a rosy color which is representative of her joy, compassion, and illumination.

🌌 tripura sundari is depicted with four arms and holds five arrows of flowers (remember this number for later), a noose, a goad and sugarcane for the use of a bow. her holding a noose represents attachment, the goad represents repulsion, the sugarcane bow represents the mind, and the arrows are the five sense objects. in the sakta tantra, she is depicted as the supreme mother who uses the gods as her instruments of passion. with the aid of the instruments of passion, she presides over the creation, sustainability, and destruction of the universe—the three phases of life. she overlooks the layers of our shadow states, self-concealment and self-revelation, that lie in-between these three phases of life (bhoo, bhuva, and swa). self-concealment is the predisposition to actively conceal from others personal information that one perceives as distressing or negative. self-revelation revelation of one's own thoughts, feelings, and attitudes especially without deliberate intent.

🔥tripura sundari represents the state of awareness that is called “sadasivatattva”. this state of sadasivatattva is said to be based on the belief that “i am this” (aham idam). that, as we evolve through our cosmic destinies, we have an outward flow of consciousness, or pravritti. spiritual practice reverses our state of physical consciousness and cause us to revert to our true being. the action of coming back to our origin and finding attainment within, is a theme of jyeshta’s scorpio rashi itself, the sign of realization. it is the divine understanding that our experiences in this universe lie within the unity of consciousness itself.

🌳many believe that tripura sundari is the beauty that precedes the three worlds. that she is divinity in its infinite meanings, embodying the different aspects of the phenomenal world. tripura sundari is the beauty that we see in the world around us. she is the beauty we find in everywhere we look. modeling the captivating beauty of tripura sundari, jyeshtas naturally are externally perceived as beautiful beings who, solely with their appearances, draw the collective desires of hearts deep within. this is the essence of jyeshta’s features. they enshroud you with an abundance of beauty and over-stimulate your senses to near exhaustion. because jyeshta is symbolized by the jewel or earrings, they adorn their features with jewels and sparkling products to appear otherworldly. most notably, jyeshta natives seem to pay great attention to the forehead, neck, skin, and tongue (as buddha is said to rule these facial features). jyeshtas love to particularly adorn themselves in gold chains (i.e. jyeshta native nicki minaj and her extensive gold chain collection). remember that scorpio is co-ruled by ketu, which is remedied by brihaspati (who is remedied by gold). so the adornment of gold will be very prevalent and calming to these natives.

🐇 fka twigs: jyeshta chandra

👅another interesting characteristic of jyeshta is tongue piercings. because buddha rules the tongue and scorpio rules the blood, we see these natives naturally have quite a great deal of emphasis in their tongue area. they are inclined to/consider piercing their tongues. some examples of this are, willow smith (jyeshta shukra atmakaraka) who infamously got a tongue piercing at eleven-years-old. christina aguilera (jyeshta buddha atmakaraka) had a tongue piercing during her most notably “promiscuous” time frame in her career (aka her “dirrty” years). in the movie “thirteen”, evan rachel wood (jyeshta shani 1H) plays a young girl who gets her tongue pierced as a sign of rebellion. one thing you will notice about these jyeshta natives is that they are always under scrutiny for the changes they make to their body. however, the vimshottari buddha-ruled nakshatras embrace rebellion in the gandanta knot of deadly restriction. after all, mercury was named “the trickster” himself. this correlates back to the trickster archetype of poking out your tongue to make fun of another person. jyeshta natives most frequently pierce their tongues as a clap back to societal standards or parental authority. in this sense, they are quite literally sticking out their tongue for the purpose of mockery. these natives also prefer sticking out their tongues in photography. examine the common photos of jyeshta natives like princess nokia, nicki minaj, and rosalía (jyeshta lagna). you will notice they prefer to playfully stick out their tongue when around others. in the bible, it states “death and life are in the power of the tongue” (proverbs 18:21). meaning the tongue can either be used as a weapon to harm and destroy others or as a tool to build and heal. this is the common unraveling of jyeshta...

♏️ jyeshta lies in the final portion of scorpio. scorpio’s ruling planet is kuja, the mahavidya associated with kuja is bagalamukhi. bagalamukhi is commonly referred to as “the goddess who seizes the tongue”. once, a demon named madan undertook austerities and won the boon of vak siddhi. anything the demon said came to be true. the demon abused this power and killed many people. the gods were enraged by the demon’s wrongdoings, so they began to worship bagalamukhi to invoke her help. baglamukhi stopped the demon by taking hold of his tongue, which was the source of all mischief, and silenced his words. however, she did not kill the demon, because he asked to be worshipped with her and she agreed. this is why the demon is depicted with her. she is repeatedly portrayed with holding the demon’s tongue with a club in her other hand. by stopping the demon's tamasic tongue, she exercised her power over speech and her power to freeze, stun, or paralyze others.

🔪 bagalamukhi is also associated with magical powers, which can sometimes be referred to as siddhis, "accomplishments" or "perfections." among her epithets in her hymn of a thousand names are she who gives the eight siddhis. the invocation written around the edge of an amulet containing her yantra in the tantrasara states: "o bagalamukhi, please arrest the speech of wicked people, paralyze their faces, fix their tongues and destroy their intellect."

⚫️while jyeshtas are fond of displaying and emphasizing their tongues from a physical standpoint, this emphasis does not stop here. as you may have noticed, most of the jyeshtas featured in this thread have gotten into some serious scandals and allegations. for example, jyeshta natives like nicki minaj who married a s*xual abuser/predator, tyra banks (jyeshta surya) and her many blackface scandals, sabrina claudio who has said many offensive racial slurs, brigitte bardot who was known to be heavily racist and abusive to her child, naomi campbell who has been linked to epstein, etc.. their interviews and words are often misconstrued and taken to the extreme, as the public takes every word of their’s as the truth, much like madan (who had the power to speak things into existence). because every word these natives say is treated as the truth, they become either hindered or freed by this power. jyeshta’s have the ability to thrive in the dark abyss of scorpio and yield their words to sway the minds of others.

💎we see the public grasping jyeshtas by the tongue, much like the tantric goddess baglamukhi, and holding on to every word they say. valuing the belief that the powers of life and death lie within the words we speak. once the dark abyss consumes a jyeshta native and they no longer rely on the glamour of the tongue, we truly see how flawed and sorrowful their lives can be (despite their abundant beauty).

🐇 sabrina claudio: jyeshta chandra

💔 jyeshta means “the eldest" or "the elder". she is the goddess of inauspicious happenings and misfortune. as her sanskrit name suggests, she is regarded as the elder sister of lakshmi (the goddess of good fortune and beauty). unfortunately, jyeshta is frequently associated with sinning, laziness, poverty, sorrow, ugliness and the crow. because of her inauspiciousness and crow symbolism, she is sometimes associated with alakshmi. due to jyeshta representing the bad wife and lakshmi representing the good wife, jyeshta is often worshiped for women who wish to keep her away from their homes, as she is said to cause marital disturbances.

🌊 most astrologers agree that jyestha's birth took place during the churning of the cosmic ocean. she was said to be born when the poison, halala, flows from the ocean, while her sister, lakshmi, is born when the elixer of life emerges. symbolic of jyeshta being in the debilitation rashi of chandra, modeling the shadow state of the new moon. whereas, lakshmi is symbolic of the plump, elxir-like full moon that lies in the exaltation rashi of chandra: taurus.

🌀 based on the linga purana, vishnu divided the world into the good and the bad. he created lakshmi and jyestha, both born from the same origin of the cosmic ocean churning. lakshmi marries vishnu, but jyestha is married to the sage dussaha. dussaha soon discovers that his jyeshta (described as his “ugly wife”) cannot bear her senses being exposed to any auspicious things. he then complained to vishnu or the sage markendeya (depending on the version). vishnu (or markendeya) recommended he take jyestha only to inauspicious places. jyestha is told to stay away from religious people. it is at this point, jyeshta became described as the "one who is inauspicious". dussaha became tired of her anti-social nature and abandoned jyestha in a place where heretical rituals are performed. jyeshta then sought out vishnu for relief. vishnu decreed that jyestha would be sustained by offerings of women who wish to keep jyeshta’s presence from homes.

⚔️ like the goddess jyeshta, jyeshta natives spend life lost and surrounded by inauspicious people and environments. they stick out like the symbolic jewel they are, moving around from one place to another. while we see jyeshta natives being intrinsic and extremely self-focused and determined, much like the antisocial jyeshta goddess, they feel at home in their wanderlust lifestyle. as their nakshatra yoni is the hare, an animal who is always on the run and quick-footed. the hare is always prepared to run from dangerous environments, which they frequently find themselves entangled in. they can quickly become surrounded by harmful environments like drugs, unhealthy relationships, and demonic presences. for example, jim morrison (jyeshta surya) was infamous for his hard partying lifestyle, filled with fast money, sexual pursuits, and hard drugs, as the bunny always craves more stimulation. but jyeshtas know how to use their gifts, their charming words and beauty, to their total advantage. buddha is considered to be the quick, discriminating intellect. this is why buddha’s overruler is vishnu (“the maintainer”). vishnu maintained a source for jyeshta to channel and tried to solve her marital issues. buddha needs the sandpaper-like energy of vishnu to buff out and refine the rigid nature of buddha. with buddha’s intellectual mastery and scorpio being symbolic of the motivation and ability to work on ourselves and to help transform others, we see these natives eventually learning from the unfortunate circumstances of jyeshta and growing to surpass even the three worlds (like tripura sundari).

🐇 sevdaliza: jyeshta chandra

⛓because jyeshta is described as the “bad wife” and scorpio is associated with the dusthana house of obstacles (eighth house), we frequently see jyeshta natives personify their issues with love and self-perception in their songs. in the chorus of “girl like me” by alexa demie (jyeshta surya), she sings: i think i need a present, man. i’m just out here doin' the best i can. you think a girl like me gon' be single for long. your wrong. you think a girl like me gon' be trippin' for long. dead wrong. you think a girl like me, goddess like me, gon' be trippin', you'll see with a girl like me.”. demie’s song describes a woman who was once mistreated in her past relationships and learned to embody the natural goddess she is and not settle for the inadequacies of her past lovers. she learned from her sorrowful and toxic past relationships (like the goddess jyeshta) and recognized her worth (the evolved state of the eighth house). this is similar to the character alexa played in “euphoria”. she played a teen in a broken and abusive relationship who continuously kept perpetuating the cycle of inauspiciousness and eventually learned to step back and realize the amount of harm she has experienced. in the song, “ego death” (starring skrillex, possibly jyeshta chandra) we hear fka twigs (jyeshta chandra) sing: i let my ego down and then I rise back up. i let my ego down and then I'll be stronger. i’m armed, to let a sucker step up and get bombed. by a beat created by my producer, i am losin' my mind 'cause your heart's so blind. when you left me outside, i’d be losin' my mind. i am losin' my mind 'cause your heart's so blind. when you left me outside, i'd be losin' my mind. it’s gonna cost you to be great. you will have to sacrifice something to be great.”. again, we see the jyeshta native falling into the cycle of mistreatment and harm and learning her worth. she eventually grasps the concept of sacrifice and realization. she thrusts herself into the purifying abyss of scorpio and hopes to never turn back. recently, fka twigs came forward and discussed the abuse she faced at the hands of her ex partner. in a recent interview with “elle”, fka twigs strongly told her story to the reporter and spoke with passion and truth. in the song “human�� by sevdaliza (jyeshta chandra), she sings “been in and out. and in front of my judgmental eyes, my precious disguise. business so cold. can’t cope with my own. how to not fail.”. in the entire song, sevdaliza realizes the cold disguise she once possessed, only to peel back the layers to find a mere human. a flawed being predestined for a life of more flaws. she finds artful peace in knowing this. in the music video for “human”, she is depicted as a temptress who lures men. she embodies the conscious choice of mastering buddha’s trickery. instead of breaking away from the cycle, sevdaliza finds enjoyment in inauspiciousness. this correlates to the dull state of the new moon.

☂ the umbrella is said to represent jyeshta. it is reflective of jyeshta’s state of reflecting what other’s project onto them. the full moon is associated with receptivity and harnessing light/energy. scorpio is the debilitation of chandra, as is cancer is the debilitation of kuja, because the energies of kuja and chandra oppose each other. kuja is rigid, hard, powerful, and tamasic. chandra is fluid, malleable, inward, and auspicious. with scorpio’s kuja rulership, we see jyeshtas acting cold and distant when they become used to harmful environments and develop the coping mechanism of allowing other’s energies to bounce off of them, much like how an umbrella protects you from the rain. rain is also symbolic of nourishment and bountiful energy, as it nourishes all the beings on this planet. this is why water is linked to feminine energy. in scorpio, a water sign, we see kuja blocking the receptivity associated with water and jyeshta bestowing this receptivity when it’s time. only when the jyeshta native distances themselves from a life of strife and never-ending cycles of abuse, may they learn to close their figurative umbrella and swim in the rain of multiple emotions and influences. an example of the symbolism of the umbrella is elle driver (played by jyeshta native daryl hannah) in “kill bill”. as she walks down the hospital hallway to kill the bride, she is adorned in a nurse costume and has an unopened red umbrella in her hand. the unopened umbrella represents her allowing the floodgates of outer influences to open. she no longer cares about her perception and is shown in her rawest form. she is no longer the illusionary and illusive character who hides in scorpio’s mystery. she is now revealed to be an evil cut throat being. the umbrella’s red color is symbolic of kuja and denotes her revealing her true tamasic nature and her carrying the collective blood of her enemies.

🐇 nicki minaj: jyeshta surya

🌩 the deity who rules the jyeshta nakshatra is indra. he is the deity of lightning, thunder, and rain. he is considered to be the king of all gods and heaven. indra rules the sky and and wields the power of rain as his weapon. he is also considered to be the god of battle. prior to each of his battles, he drank a vast amounts of soma. soma is a divine juice that strengthens him to accomplish his deeds in combat. it is he who defeated the serpent vritra who had swallowed all the waters of the world spurring a tumultuous drought. indra split the belly of the serpent with his thunderbolt, releasing the waters and generating life. by killing the serpent, indra separated land from ocean, and caused the sun to rise (this act of land separation is comparable to the god zeus and the christian god). indra slicing the belly of the serpent, recalls how jyeshtas must retire their umbrella to generate life in their lives. however, there is another item they will find to be particularly important during their journey in this lifetime.

🧿 every jyeshta i have ever met holds at least some significance for a form of the talisman. this is because jyeshta is also symbolized by the talisman/evil eye. this all correlates to jyeshta being the cosmic jewel, the shiny emerald who captivates their truest beauty. it’s green color honors the symbolism of buddha and is reminiscent of the blue or green evil eye. the concept of the evil eye exists in many cultures from hinduism to islam to turkey.

🔮 the overall concept of the talisman is called "apotropaic" (which is greek for "turns away"). talismans are believed to turn away or turn back harm, like an umbrella, bouncing off the influencing waters. disks or balls, consisting of concentric blue and white circles are generally representative of the evil eye in common talismans in west asia. however, this emblem is most commonly found in turkish cultures. this blue or green eye can also be found on some forms of the hamsa hand (which is also known to ward the evil eye of others). The word hamsa, also spelled as khamsa and hamesh, means "five" which refers to the fingers of the hand.

🤚🏽 in jewish culture, the hamsa is called the hand of miriam/mary and, in some muslim cultures, the “the hand of fatima” (fatima being the daughter of the prophet muhammad). it is primarily the muslims in the near east and mediterranean regions that believe envious looks can contain destructive power. the talismanic power of the nazar defends against this destructive energy. this is why the pure virgin mary or fatima is said to ward off these negative influences, recalling baglamukhi who was called to aid the other deities in the slaying of the demon.

🥚 the evil eye also heavily exists in hispanic and latinx cultures. it is referred to as the 'mal de ojo' and it is very prevalent in spanish culture throughout history. in most of mexico and central america, infants are considered at special risk for the mal de ojo and are often given an amulet bracelet as protection. this amulet bracelet typically contains an eye-like dot painted on the amulet. to also ward against the mal de ojo, it is customary to allow admirers to touch the infant or child. one popular traditional cure in my old hometown and in parts of central or south america involves a curandero (otherwise known as a folk healer). the curandero sweeps a raw chicken egg over the body of a victim to absorb the power of the person with the evil eye. once this is finished, the egg is later broken into a glass with water and placed under the bed of the patient near the head. it is usually checked immediately to see if the broken egg appears cooked. if this happens, it means that the patient did have the mal de ojo. after this ritual is completed, any pains or sickness from the mal de ojo is ceased. the concept of the egg is also closely linked to the bunny (jyeshta’s yoni) in some european cultures. most notably, the easter bunny.

🐰 easter is a religious holiday, but a great deal of its american customs are linked to pagan traditions. the egg itself is an ancient symbol of new life/re-birth. it has been associated with pagan festivals celebrating spring. many christians view easter eggs as a representation of jesus’ emergence from the tomb and resurrection. in orthodox christianity, it is traditional to have ‘the octave of easter’, essentially an eight day celebration of easter. during this celebration, the surya usually moves from revati (the final nakshatra) to ashwini (the first nakshatra). before i continue any further, i am not the first one to find this correlation, i believe the lovely @/shravishtamoo and @/365chimera were the first to talk about this on twitter. out of respect for not taking credit for their work, i will only lightly graze over this topic and solely share my opinion on this.

🌸 revati is under the vimshottari dasha rulership of buddha and the aries rashi of ashwini is ruled by kuja. kuja is overruled by bhumi, the cosmic mother or earth goddess. bhumi is usually depicted with four arms, holding a pomegranate, a water vessel, a bowl containing healing herbs, and another bowl containing vegetables. she is sometimes depicted with two hands, the right hand holding a blue lotus known as kumuda or utpala, the night lotus, while the left hand may be in the abhayamudra, this is a pose meant to mimic the tail of a horse. bhumi is symbolic of the cosmic flourishment. her pomegranate, healing herbs, and water vessel are symbolic of the fruitful tides and nature of the cosmic mother. much like how easter is linked to the pagan festival/celebration of the spring equinox (the day the surya enters into tropical aries). ashwini is the birth of the nakshatras, but bharani is considered to be the cosmic yoni. bhumi’s stance represents the horse ashwini and the cosmic egg. as bharani represents inward fertility, like the ripe pomegranate and cooling, feminine waters of the yoni. whereas, jyeshta, who is also ruled by kuja (rashi-wise), models this seemingly fertile abundance on the surface. like how the octave of easter combines the energy of buddha and kuja, we see this internal need to ascend their constant negativity, like how jesus died and arose from the death. jesus was betrayed and beaten brutally, similar to how many jyeshtas will find themselves continuously hurt by others. i understand this may sound redundant but look at the jyeshta goddess, baglamukhi, indra, tripura sundari, the octave of easter, and bhumi. they all required ascension, forgiveness or rebirth, which are necessary when such a tamasic planet like kuja and poltergeist-like spirit of buddha operate in their shadow state.

even bunny-like formations have been known to pop up on the planet mars itself: https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/mars/images/odyssey-image_feature_295.html

🐇 naomi campbell: jyeshta chandra

5️⃣ the number 5 is very important and reoccurring in the lives of jyeshta natives. the number five is said to be representative of buddha. as you have read through this post, you will notice the number five has reoccurred constantly. such as, tripura sundari’s five bows, the five-finger hamsa symbol, jyeshta natives like mick jagger and jay-z who are both life path 5s, and even some of the jyeshta names i have included in this thread total to the number five (such as, nicki/onika = 5 and tyra lynne banks = 14 = 1+4 = 5). because this number is symbolic of buddha, this number is said to denote intelligence, constant changes, and business success. however, the number five primarily shows a free-spirited and lucky nature. this is why the number sequence of five is said to be incredibly auspicious. i would like to focus on the fifth book of the bible: deuteronomy, a book filled with rebellion and imposing laws. a quote i think particularly describes jyeshta is deuteronomy 28-14: “If you fully obey the lord your god and carefully follow all his commands I give you today, the lord your god will set you high above all the nations on earth. all these blessings will come upon you and accompany you if you obey the lord your god: you will be blessed in the city and blessed in the country. the fruit of your womb will be blessed, and the crops of your land and the young of your livestock – the calves of your herds and the lambs of your flocks. your basket and your kneading trough will be blessed. you will be blessed when you come in and blessed when you go out. the lord will grant that the enemies who rise up against you will be defeated before you. they will come at you from one direction but flee from you in seven. the lord will send a blessing on your barns and on everything you put your hand to. the lord your god will bless you in the land he is giving you. the lord will establish you as his holy people, as he promised you on oath, if you keep the commands of the lord your god and walk in his ways. then all the peoples on earth will see that you are called by the name of the lord, and they will fear you. the lord will grant you abundant prosperity – in the fruit of your womb, the young of your livestock and the crops of your ground – in the land he swore to your forefathers to give you. the lord will open the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season and to bless all the work of your hands. you will lend to many nations but will borrow from none. the lord will make you the head, not the tail. if you pay attention to the commands of the lord your god that I give you this day and carefully follow them, you will always be at the top, never at the bottom. do not turn aside from any of the commands i give you today, to the right or to the left, following other gods and serving them.”. essentially, if you follow the teachings of your deity (operating in your light state), you will reap the bountiful crops of spiritual abundance and find freedom within (the theme of 5 in vedic teachings). the outer influences of others will no longer affect your inner being. jyeshta becomes the flowing waters of indra and bhumi, abundant in the freedom these natives onced crave. while jyeshtas appear to have an abundance of freedom, as they continuously bounce from one situation to another, it is insincere if they do not learn how to alter their surroundings, set boundaries, and learn to love again, reminiscent of the number four.

4️⃣ another number jyeshtas see quite frequently is the number four. the number four is said to be ruled by rahu, the head of the serpent god. recall in the aforementioned bible quote, “the lord will make you the head, not the tail”. this is the essence of the number four. it symbolizes the need for/ability of staying grounded, stability, worldly achievements, and secrecy. buddha was said to be one of the only deities to tame rahu. when a number of the nature of four occurs in a jyeshta’s life, it means the native must learn to tame their inner being and focus on staying grounded and not share their accomplishments with others. as discussed previously, buddha-ruled natives struggle with the immense power of their tongues. because they are able to have their words believed by the masses, if they say they will do something and it does not happen it brings a great deal of distrust around them. the art of secrecy is said to be something rahu thrives in, due to his natural illusionary background. embracing the illusion will help them ward the evil eye, with or without an amulet or talisman. if these natives do not share their plans or accomplishments, others cannot impose their hatred or jealousy against that native.

9️⃣ it is interesting to note that once the number of freedom (5) and secrecy/achievements (4) come together, they make 9. nine is the number representative of kuja. nine denotes strength, leadership, knowledge, and fire. it is a number described as “a man who walks with the torch of intelligence [buddha], in a road full of blood stains [kuja], not seeing the snake below his feet [rahu].”. modeling the fiery and strong spirit of indra, slaying great beasts in battle, much like how the owl is one of the only animals to beat the snake into submission (rahu).

🐇 mädchen amick: jyeshta surya

🦉 recall from the earlier paragraphs, jyeshta is considered to be linked to the goddess lakshmi (the sister of jysheta’s comparative goddess: alakshmi). lakshmi is depicted as sitting on an owl. this owl is why jyeshta is associated with the supernatural owl. owls are said to symbolize knowledge, wisdom, and dread. the owl is also closely linked to the dawn of death and misery. the differences of the spiritual associations of the owl is symbolic of the axis of jyeshta/alakshmi and lakshmi. due to their rare and majestic nature, many cultural myths associate owls with the presence of a higher being, such as guardians, spiritual guides, and vahanas. their ominous hoot is an anamnesis of being lost in a dark forest reeking of danger and the scent of pine. the owl may either be your beacon of light, carrying the auspicious powers of lakshmi into your life, or bringing detrimental, loss and death to your dearest beloved.

🐦 the name of lakshmi’s vahana owl is known as uluka. uluka is considered to be another name for lord indra (the deity ruling jyeshta). the combination of the goddess of wealth (lakshmi) and the king of heaven (indra) personifies the auspicious, wealthy, and powerful spirit linked to the owl. because the owl dwells in the night, it is also a symbol of the darkness of ignorance (avidya). the owl’s aversion towards the daytime is indicative of turning away from the solar path to embrace the feminine forestry of the night. the is why lakshmi is said to guide one to open the eyes to the light of wisdom residing within themselves. she is said to guide you to the goddess saraswati, who is said to rule our knowledge, alphabet, and the tongue (recall jyeshtas penchant for the tongue). uluka becomes lakshmi’s vahana when she blesses wealth and prosperity. the owl asks of lakshmi’s devotees to not be trapped by the illusions of wealth (444), warning against the dangers of arrogance and stressing discipline. when her wealth is used by humans for inauspicious activities, one is said to be blinded, like owl who can longer tolerate the bright rays of surya. it is then uluka embraces the antithesis of the axis and becomes a bird of ill omen flying the goddess of alakshmi around to your door-step, bringing darkness, disgrace, inauspiciousness and misfortune.

🏔 the show “twin peaks” is heavily influenced by the jyeshta nakshatra, as approximately 25% of it’s cast and four directors have prominent jyeshta placements (surya, chandra, lagna, or atmakarala). it centers around a small logging town filled with murder. in this show, nothing is as it seems, intuition is valued, and your dreams guide you. a common phrase in the show is: “the owls are not what they seem”. in the show, there appears to be two paranormal realms, the black lodge and the white lodge. these realms correlate to the lodge spirits, who are unable have physical bodies. because of this, they are limited in the ways they can travel outside the lodges and usually require a host/vessel. while other spirits exist in various mediums, like wood, electricity, and running water.

⛰ the owls are said to be a physical medium of the watchful eyes of the lodge spirits. the owls are theorized to control the entire narrative of the story, invoking harm or bliss. they serve as a barrier and channel between the illusionary twin peaks and the deeply uneasy spiritual lodge realms. in the show, they literally serve as a mask to cover the face of a harmful spirit. thus, the owls are not what they seem. they may channel the deity they please and bring the essence of lakshmi or alakshmi to your door.

♟the owls are reminiscent of the nature of scorpio. scorpio is representative of the eighth house of the zodiac. with kuja being it’s rashi lord, we see a strong amount of strength, energy, achievements and inheritance in the lives of these natives. because scorpio is the watery dusthana, they have a strong intuitive nature when they let their guard down. in twin peaks, you will see many characters try to appear strong when, in reality, they are some of the weakest and sensitive characters in the whole show. an example of this is shelly (played by jyeshta native mädchen amick). shelly married an abusive man who expected her to only do domestic chores and be subservient. she tries to appear fine and cover the bruises to protect her other lover, but quickly her illusion is shattered. she becomes lost and scared, only to regain her confidence via her other partner. another possible jyeshta co-star, kimmy robertson (who played lucy), struggles with handling her romantic endeavors and is quite stubborn. once she feels she has met the right partner, her stubborn nature corrodes like a boulder chipping away from a cliff, only to reveal a sweet, pleasant waterfall of love. due to the scorpio rashi’s strong intuition, they generally have fixed ideas and tend to relentlessly follow them out of faith in their perception of the unknown. the deputy chief (played by jyeshta buddha atmakaraka native michael horse) is known for following his intuition and, due to this, he eventually ends up saving the lives of many others. scorpios also tend to value a small, close-knit friend group. we see the small town of twin peaks frequently coming together to help each other in need.

🌟 the eighth house is associated with the unveiling of deep secrets. this is why scorpios feel the immense need to get to the state of raw purity (the cosmic egg) to examine the situation in it’s purest form. throughout the entire series, mysteries are repeatedly being discovered and solved. however, these mysteries do not solely require the analytical mind. they also require the help and guidance of outside and unexplainable sources. in order to solve these mysteries, you must channel the nature of the owl to evaluate both sides. the eighth house/scorpio is also said to rule the genitals, whereas, kuja is said to heavily influence the sexual organs. in the entire show, sexual pursuits, pr*stitution, and kundalini energy is rampant. sexual energy abundance and accumulation is the cause of adoration. this is why we see jyeshta natives, like the fictional character holli would, nicki minaj, or fka twigs, exciting the sexual passion within others and enticing the masses with their trickster nature. you will often notice many jyeshta (and other buddha/kuja natives) natives create a great deal of sexualized content to express their untamable and playful skill. they embody indra in combat and wield their bodies like a cosmic sword, exciting the virility in others with their sharp nature. however, jyeshta natives do not care for pleasing the average partner, they wish to dominate them with their seemingly submissive nature. they thrive in an environment of underestimation and want you to assume they are a surreal illusion. much like the ashlesha nakshatra, jyeshtas are either tamed or dominated, but—more frequently—they are the one’s to dominate, as many people do not know to handle such icy, hot energy and are simply in mere awe of their beauty. this issue with knowing how to work along with jyeshtas and rise to their level is something many people struggle with. instead of wishing to see the jyeshta flourish and glow with passion, they will try to drag them down to their own low vibrational level, reminding jyeshtas of their original gandanta point of sorrow.

🐇 princess nokia: jyeshta chandra

💧water and, thus, the color blue holds great power in the lives of jyeshta. the jyeshta goddess herself was adorned with blue-black garments and is said to hold a blue lotus in her right hand. the color blue is said to be associated with shani and the lotus is representative of the vimshottari evolution of shani. the many shades of blue are reminiscent of the azure of a clear sky. shani is the planet of hard work, determination, and respect. if you honor shani, you will likely be at the zenith of life. shani is debilitated in the bharani nakshatra (representative of the famale yoni). bhumi is said to mount the elephant and jyeshta’s nature is often compared to the elephant (the yoni of bharani). we see water personifying their internal struggle of diligence and sexuality. the element of water itself flows and crashes with it’s feminine luster. it denotes cleansing, rebirth, and vital energy. the practice of swimming and watery movement is said to excite the feminine spirit and remove all negative energies that encompass the individual. think of how you take a refreshing bath or wash your face. the act of cleansing and the alignment with the water element is energizing and refreshing. recall the christian practice of baptism. baptism is said to be a christian rite of admission. it uses the rejuvenating power of sprinkling, pouring, or entrenching the devotee with water to wash away their sins. this behavior parallels to the churning of the cosmic ocean to produce the elixir of youth, as christians believe baptism saves the youth/innocence of your soul.

🌿 jyeshtas are often forced to grow up quite early in their lives. the often harsh and toxic environments they are surrounded by do not yield a balanced and cleansed individual. it is destined for them to put on a mask or illusion cope with this (recall the demonic spirit who used the owl mask in “twin peaks”). it allows them to feel protected, as how harnessing their sexuality brings them great power. but deep down, they are innocent and youthful spirits. paralleling the goddesses jyeshta and alakshmi who lived lives of great strife but had a kind soul. their aversions to auspiciousness is something they could not control. it was their destiny. the life of jyeshtas are said to be incredibly karmic and destined. they cannot control the terrible and harsh energies of those who may come and go in their lives, but they can choose to walk through the smoky abyss or deep, cleansing waters to see if there is light on the other side of life.

🐇 brigitte bardot (left): jyeshta lagna

🐇 jane birkin (right): jyeshta surya

🚬 it is not uncommon to see jyeshta natives enjoying a good cigarette or cigar. as i once discussed in my magha exploration, natives of the gandanta points enjoy the symbolism and release smoke brings. this is because gandanta points are where the water and fire elements meet and cross. water is symbolic of the divine feminine (4H, 8H, 12H) and fire is symbolic of the divine masculine (1H, 5H, 9H). these elements are complete opposites. when water and fire collide, the water subdues the fire and we are only left with smoke. in the song “smoke on water” by deep purple (who has five members with prominent jyeshta placements), we see the nature of this smoky elemental intermingling under the co-rulership of ketu. the promiscuity of water and purification of fire combines and forms the infinite knot. ketu is the south node, representing our past lives and karma. whereas, buddha is the planet of awakening the discriminating intellect between benefic and malefic actions, essentially good and evil. the harsh, polar forces of water and fire (rashi elements) coupled with past lives and karma (ketu) and knowledge (buddha), create this need for escapism. the need for stimulation to calm the ever-present sense of anxiety or physical ailments gandanta natives are prone to. the use of cigars, cigarettes, or cylinder-shaped products of other smoky varieties (🌿) as a way to ease their anxious nature. as the dusthana houses are uneasy, ketu is unstable, and buddha plays tricks on the mind.

🌫 the cylinder shape of these smoky, stress-relieving products is symbolic of yang energy (the phallus). while this may sound odd, the intoxicating (yin) energy of tobacco and the yang shape of these products creates the perfect balance of water and fire to attract these natives. this is reminiscent of the nineveh cylinder. this cylinder is designed to be a message to the universal one and directs the eyes are set upon it. it is only the eyes that contain an energetic consciousness who will be able to understand the cylinder’s message. you must be able to feel and think to be integrated into the powers of the cylinder and hence the have the power to ascend. one’s energetic signature then changes and only then may the individual have the ability to receive it’s messages or symbols. this acts as a cosmic safety valve to prevent the duality of the lower dimensional worlds from contaminating the higher dimensions that reside in cosmic unity (indra). it represents achieving the human ability to go within your self and untie the knot/noose of tripura sundari within to balance one’s intention, focus and willpower. the symbol of latter is an upward or downward pointed triangle. this triangular figure is symbolic of completion, the three worlds tripura sundari transcends. the journey for jyeshtas is long and hard, filled with fire and water, smoke and mirrors, and lightness and darkness. the cylinder of nineveh invites jyeshtas to walk through the smoky abyss, through the yang passage of the cylinder to untie their inner knot of restriction to be finally free from the harsh realities of this world.

🐇 ‘holli would’ as played by jyeshta surya kim basinger in “cool world”

💋 as always, i am open to any constructive criticism! i tried to touch on the deities’ involvement in the appearances, manifestations, and symbolism of jyeshta. to be quite frank, studying the story of jyeshta brought me to tears. it’s unfair the amount of harm and difficulty they experience in their lifetimes, but their determination and wit pulls them through. studying these many deities, symbolism, cultures, and religions for this post has been so honoring and humbling. as i was making this post, a bunny approached my window and i do not live in an area where rabbits are common. i just thought that was a lovely sign, i’d be a fool to think this is merely a coincidence. if you are looking for more information about jyeshta, get to know the overrulers and supreme deities of kuja, bhumi (the earth goddess) and skanda (the war god), and buddha, vishnu (the maintainer) and narayana (the cosmic person). also—and i cannot stress this enough—familiarize yourself with the deity of this nakshatra: indra. if any of my placements or information are incorrect please feel free to let me know! also, i am fully aware of the origins of vedic astrology and if i was in anyway disrespectful to hindu culture, i will take down this post immediately. i am incredibly honored to know such lovely vedic astrology enthusiasts. you all mean so much to me xx

**all of these placements were found using astrotheme/.com and/or astro-charts/.com. it is important to note that some chandra (moon) placements may be off by up to 6 degrees and lagnas (risings) as well, due to the fact that many websites do not have 100% accurate birth times for the given celebrities.

**i take absolutely no credit for the invention of vedic astrology-based appearance profiles. please watch claire nakti on youtube or look into @/cn0bles, @/lovejustlied, @/dh4nishta, and @/vanillemercure on twitter for more in-depth analysis on vedic astrology xx

#vedicastrology #astrology #moon #nakshatras #budha #rahu ketu #mercury planet #scorpio #scorpio aesthetic #scorpio moon #jyestha #mars planet

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thinkingisadangerouspastime · 3 years ago

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Love of My Life

It was then Katara’s turn to stare up at the fiery sky, the multitude of clouds glowing in red and orange glory. “Aang,” she murmured, his name falling from her lips like a prayer. “Please.”

After the final battle, Katara and Aang reunite.

(Written for Day 3 of Kataang Week 2021: Missing Scenes/Post-Canon, hosted by @kataang-week. Read here on AO3, or continue reading below.)

Azula was taken away at some point, maybe by the Fire Sages, but her bloodcurdling screams and broken sobs were hardly a pinprick at the back of Katara’s mind as she kept her attention trained to the lightning wound blasted across Zuko’s solar plexus. Her hands glowed with the water she was continuously pulling from the now-burst piping system in the courtyard around them. She had no enhanced spirit water as with Aang, but fortunately Zuko’s injury was less severe and—thanks to her quick defeat of Azula—no longer life-threatening.

Zuko winced, and guilt flashed through Katara’s stomach for silently dismissing his pain. “Sorry.” She moved the water further upward on his chest, over a spot where the skin was more blistered. “Better?”

A low hiss escaped Zuko’s lips as the cool liquid skimmed the wound, and he managed a weak nod. “Thanks.” His voice was raspier than usual. To be expected. “For this, and for… and for stopping Azula.”

The urge to laugh rose in Katara’s throat, which she immediately suppressed because Tui and La, what was wrong with her? How was now an appropriate time for laughter? “Well, you’re welcome,” she said instead, giving him a weary smile, “but next time, how about you don’t taunt her about the lack of lightning, hmm?”

Zuko grimaced, and Katara knew that particular reaction had nothing to do with the wound across his chest. “Let’s just hope there will never be a next time.”

Katara couldn’t argue with that.

The following minutes were quiet as Katara slowly moved the water up, down, and around Zuko’s injury, her hands themselves hovering less than an inch above his chest. While she knew it was only a figment of her imagination, Katara could’ve sworn there was still blue lightning—Azula’s lightning—flickering across the wound, sparking at her fingertips and prickling across her skin.

Maybe, then, it was this lingering remnant of the Avatar’s slayer that had Katara so on edge. Maybe that was the reason why tension still thrummed through her body despite that she and Zuko were safe now, despite that they’d won.

“He’s going to come back.”

Zuko’s words broke the heavy silence, startling Katara so badly her concentration flew out the figurative window. The water around her hands lost its glow and splattered across Zuko’s chest like she’d emptied a full bucket on top of him. Frantic apologies spilled from her lips as she bent the water off his upper body with similar haste, but Zuko—wincing—pushed himself into a sitting position before she could begin the healing process again.

“Zuko, what are you—”

“Aang is going to come back,” he repeated, staring at Katara with an intensity that probably shouldn’t have been possible for someone in his grievously injured state. A testament to her healing skills, truly, and also to Zuko’s general stubbornness.

“I know he will,” Katara said after a pause, bending the water she’d again collected around her hands into the leather waterskin that hung at her hip. “If memory serves, I was the one telling you that on our way here.”

Zuko chuckled. “I know. Sorry. You just seemed like…” His eyes flickered across her face, searching for vulnerability Katara refused to bare. “Like you needed the reminder.”

Katara sighed, not meeting his gaze. “Look. I know Aang will come back. I know he’ll win.” Spirits, maybe he had won already. “I mean, he’s the only one who can. But I guess I’m still—” Katara cut herself off with another sigh, blinking back exhausted tears. “Fine, you’re right. I guess I’m still worried.”

Aang would return victorious, yes, there was no doubt in her mind. But at what cost? What price would he have been forced to pay? Sacrificing his body through the loss of a limb? Sacrificing his soul through the loss of that which his people valued above all else? Katara knew, she knew that if anyone could stop Ozai without killing him, it was Aang. But what she didn’t know was—was how.

Spirits, Katara wouldn’t be able to handle it if Aang returned to her broken in a way she couldn’t heal. She’d already witnessed him die once, watched his body go limp as life left it. She wasn’t ready to watch his spirit disappear, wasn’t ready to watch hope leave his heart, too.

Zuko opened his mouth, presumably to offer more words of comfort to her, but he was interrupted by Appa’s body stiffening—the sky bison was so large it was impossible not to notice the reaction. He’d originally been standing guard, for all intents and purposes, while Katara healed Zuko, but now his eyes were glued to the sky as he released a bellow that shook the stone of the courtyard beneath them.

Katara grabbed Zuko’s arm to keep him from toppling over, but instead of resettling himself, Zuko tried to stand up, as if the giant wound on his chest was nothing more than a mere papercut.

“It’s Aang!” was the only explanation he gave as Katara relented with a huff and helped him to his feet. “It has to be. What else would get Appa acting like this?”

Privately, Katara agreed with him. Hope beat in her heart so rapidly it ached. But since Zuko had wildly, unexpectedly, completely out of the blue transformed into an optimist—seriously, had the lightning gone through his brain?—well, that meant she had to be the one to temper his optimism with a little realism.

“It could be a threat,” she responded honestly, not releasing Zuko’s arm until she was certain he’d gathered his balance.

Zuko shot her a doubtful look. “You sure?” He pointed at Appa, whose tail had started shaking—okay, yes, probably with excitement, Katara would admit that much.

It was then her turn to stare up at the fiery sky, the multitude of clouds glowing in red and orange glory. “Aang,” she murmured, his name falling from her lips like a prayer. “Please.”

Seconds later, those otherworldly clouds split open to reveal a Fire Nation airship, and on the exterior Katara could see flashes of blue and green fabric—Sokka and Toph, it had to be. Spirits knew she probably should have been concerned about who was steering the balloon, but once it was clear the ship was heading steadily towards the ground and wouldn’t face a disastrous crash, Katara’s mind returned to its previous mantra.

Aang. Aang. Aang.

“Remember to breathe, Katara.”

Katara shot Zuko a mild glare at his wry tone, but exhaled, because he was right—she’d been holding her breath. In fact, she was still holding far more tension in her body than could be considered healthy, but Katara knew that overwhelming stiffness wasn’t going to ease until she saw her friends alive and well, until she felt Aang’s heartbeat in sync against her own.

Katara’s breath hitched as the airship came to a stop far from herself and Zuko, hovering above the stone ground of the courtyard. It was much larger up close—no wonder it couldn’t land properly. There was a deep rattle as a metal plank, of sorts, some kind of steel pathway lowered from the ship and scraped across the ground with an earsplitting screech. Onto it stepped—

“They’re alive!” Katara gasped, blinking back elated tears as Sokka, Aang, Toph, and Suki—and Momo atop Suki’s left shoulder—stepped out onto the platform. One of Sokka’s legs was in a splint and he had to lean onto Suki’s side for support as he hobbled along, but— “They’re all alive!”

Aang was alive.

They’d done it. A little bruised, a little broken, maybe all around worse for wear, but—

They’d done it.

“Come on,” Zuko urged, taking an unsteady step forward and immediately wincing. He didn’t let the pain stop him, though, powering another foot ahead. “Let’s meet them halfway.”

Katara rolled her eyes, ducking under Zuko’s arm to brace him against her side, careful to avoid his injury. “Idiot.” Standing on his own was one thing, but walking by himself was an entirely different matter. She could already tell Zuko was the kind of person who made a terrible patient.

But Katara walked with him all the same, slow and steady. As they got closer, she could better see the physical state her friends were in. Toph had only a few scrapes across her arms and face. Same for Suki. Sokka had clearly done a number on his leg, as he was hardly putting any weight on it despite the well-made split, and not to mention that Suki continued to brace him while he walked. Aang was—

“Appa!”

Well, Aang was getting smothered by Appa, Katara noted with silent amusement as the sky bison practically tackled Aang to the ground, nuzzling and licking him with unabashed eagerness.

“Buddy, I’m okay!” Aang managed to wheeze out amidst his laughter, giving Appa a tight hug. “I’m okay, I promise.”

He seemed to be telling the truth, at least based on what Katara could discern from afar. His orange robes were torn to oblivion, with only his Fire Nation pants remaining. She could see minor burns across his chest and one area on the left side of his ribs that looked to her like it would become a painful bruise, but overall—

“If you guys are here with no Azula,” Sokka joked as they all came to a stop, snapping Katara’s attention away from Aang, “does that mean Zuko finally gets to rule the Fire Nation?”

Katara allowed Zuko to keep some of his weight on her even as they stood still. He laughed at her brother’s comment. “Katara’s the one who technically defeated her in the Agni Kai. Maybe that makes her the Fire Lord.”

Katara groaned and rolled her eyes, ignoring the amused snickers of her friends. “Tui and La, no. I refuse. I resign. I—I abdicate. The throne is all yours, Zuko.”

She turned her attention to her brother’s injured leg as Suki began recounting the details of their battle in the air, including how they’d managed to pilfer an airship of their own. Up close, Katara was relieved to see that no bone had broken through the skin in Sokka’s shin or thigh—that would have made it much harder for her to heal. She made sure Zuko was stable on his feet before stepping away to study the injury further. But as she crouched at Sokka’s side and went to bend water out her flask for the preliminary healing process—

“Hey. That can wait.”

Katara blinked, staring up at Sokka in utter confusion. “Excuse me?” His leg was broken, she couldn’t just—

Sokka jerked his head towards Aang, who was busy freeing himself from beneath Appa’s weight. “Go greet the hero of the hour. My leg will still be here when you get back.”

Toph snorted. “Of the hour?” She shook her head. “Give him credit, Sokka—Twinkle Toes is the hero of the century.” Momo chirped before jumping from Suki’s shoulder onto Toph’s, as if agreeing with her.

Katara turned to look at Aang, her mind tuning out the rest of her friend’s teasing banter that followed. He was—Aang was more than the hero of the century, at least to her. More than the Avatar, more than an airbender, more than—

Aang must have felt her eyes on him, because he paused in petting Appa to turn around and give her a shy grin. “Hi, Katara.”

With those two words, the dam burst, and Katara sprinted over to Aang with all the speed of a roaring wave. Her arms crashed around his bare shoulders like water beating against the shore, and Aang wrapped his arms around her waist in return. Katara could only squeeze him tighter, his face pressing into her shoulder.

“You stopped him,” Katara whispered. Her words were shaky, or—spirits, maybe it was her entire body that was quivering. “Ozai. You stopped him.”

Aang nodded into her shoulder, and Katara slackened her grip just enough so he could lean back and reply. “Yep.”

Katara’s right hand instinctively rose to cup his face. She could see it in his eyes—tired, yes, but still so full of hope, the warm gray as rich as the shimmering moon. “You found another way, didn’t you?”

Aang smiled at her, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes, and spirits if that wasn’t an image Katara wanted traced into her memory for the rest of time. “Ozai is alive. But he can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Katara had a million questions, the first being the obvious How? How did you do it? But no query fell from her lips despite her overwhelming curiosity. Instead, all she could do was stare at Aang, tears of relief sliding down her cheeks as she smiled and smiled and smiled and—

“I am so proud of you,” Katara said, the words halfway to a sob as she pulled Aang into another crushing hug, marvelling at how perfectly his body fit against hers. “I knew you would do it, Aang, I knew it. Only you could.”

Aang laughed. “Must’ve been your belief that got me through it.” His arms tightened around her, as if he, too, needed the unspoken reassurance that Katara was there, that she was real, that they had won, the same way she needed such comfort from him. “At one point, I’m not even sure I believed I’d succeed.”

“It’s a good thing I never doubted you, then,” Katara whispered, and Aang laughed again.

“Yes. Thank you.”

Katara wasn’t quite sure what Aang was thanking her for—her faith then, her presence now?—and in truth, she had a feeling Aang didn’t precisely know, either. But what did precision matter? They were here, together, alive. Beaten and bruised but not broken beyond all repair. Neither of them had lost what they couldn’t live without.

For Aang, the vestiges of his peaceful people. And for her…

Aang.

Katara hadn’t lost Aang. Not like she had before, not like she couldn’t bear to ever lose him again.

“Alright, lovebirds! That’s enough time spent hugging the life out of each other. Come tend to the wounded, please.”

Katara rolled her eyes at her brother’s obnoxious interruption, but she released Aang after a final tight squeeze. She really did want to take a look at Sokka’s leg. Besides—she and Aang now had all the time in the world. All the time in a peaceful world, at that.

Aang followed her back to the rest of their friends, and Katara had just knelt down to examine Sokka’s injury when Aang burst out into loud, unprovoked laughter. The sudden sound made her jump, and it was only thanks to some quick thinking—and inelegant bending—that she avoided spilling the water from her waterskin all over the stone courtyard for the second time in the past ten minutes.

“What’s so funny?” Zuko asked, the apparent reason for Aang’s laughter. “What did I do?”

“No—you didn’t—” Aang cut himself off with a wheeze, and Katara couldn’t stop herself from glancing behind her to see what on Earth had him in stitches.

Aang pointed at Zuko’s chest, biting down hard on his bottom lip in a clear attempt to withhold further laughter. “That. Azula shot you with lightning, right?” When Zuko nodded, he said, “And Katara healed you?”

“I did,” Katara confirmed. Sokka gave her a disapproving look, probably because she was yet to begin healing his leg, but—well, this time Katara had no real excuse beyond her own intrigue. Whoops. But it wasn’t as if his splint wasn’t holding up perfectly. The expertise with which it was secured suggested Suki had been the one to fashion it, and that meant Sokka would be fine for a quick moment longer.

Aang’s laughter returned in full force, one arm wrapped around his stomach while his free hand gestured wildly behind him. “We—We match!” He turned around, and—

“Oh, for Agni’s sake,” Zuko groaned, and Katara found herself unable to contain her laughter. In a matter of seconds, they were all laughing at Aang’s revelation. Even Zuko, once he’d gotten over himself.

Tui and La. Katara loved her friends, she loved her life, she loved being alive with her friends by her side and—

Aang.

She loved Aang.

Oh, spirits.

#kataang #kataangtag #kataang week #katara #aang #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #atla fanfic #the gaang #amy writes

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sunlightnmoonshine · 3 years ago

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In the end (pt. 1)

It feels a little surreal that the show is over and I will no longer have anything to look forward to because the devil judge set such a high bar in terms of writing and character exploration that I will always hold dear to my heart. Given that its actually done, I found myself drowning in the realisation that we will never see these characters again and how I feel about where the show left them off. So this is me coming to terms with it:

1. Min Jung Ho - Snake lol. Something I admired about the writing was how they didn't try to make him all out some evil piece of shit but rather someone that had a very strong misguided belief off some strange frustrations against Yohan who was changing the legal system more radically but effectively. Which he could not come to terms with. In the end he villanised Yohan and ignored the actual problems that persisted and inevitably contributed to the problem all in a sense of self righteousness, ah sorry, hypocrisy is the better word. The show leaves him looking oh so pathetic, he can't even raise his head to meet Gaon, the boy he betrayed severely and he'll rot for the rest of his life going down in history as a hypocrite who did nothing to actually fix the system he claimed he would be the arm of justice for. Its a fitting end.

2. Heo Joong Se: Clown. The show really said he's a spoilt, stubborn arrogant joke until the end. Down to the way he insulted everyone but specifically insulted women. The way all he did in that court room was scream his head off without an ounce of remorse somehow still deluded by the fact that he's doing this for the country? But knowing fully well he's a businessman through and through and that was all he will be. I can not stress how phenomenal it is that it is Jung Sun Ah that shoots him dead. Its clear he's had it coming from her hand ever since she tried to suffocate him during the massage but it's just how randomly she does it. She's sick of him, she's aware she's going to be targeted, she's aware he's done too much behind her back and never once respected her and its in the midst of one of his screaming fits particularly screaming "I am the King" that the bullet goes through and there's silence. Perfection.

3. The rest of the clowns of the SRF : idle bystanders that turned an eye away from inherent evil and repeatedly benefitted off of their actions without an ounce of remorse yet again. But hilarious nevertheless because they really became jesters on that stage in a desperate fit to live, threw themselves away to get out a door. It's noteworthy that they spent most of their time trying to stop the other from leaving instead of quietly watching and just getting out. None of them of are capable of that, they only know to take from others. Crumbling under the systematic stage they built? Poignant. I don't really care what anyone says they deserved to die point in tow with HJS who saw human life as so unworthy of it wasn't their own. There's a reason why human trafficking is considered one of the worst of crimes, human experimentation falls closely next to it. All because they were poorer than them. Guess their greed really out did them. Tried to put on a show in a court house which was anyway all just a staged facade and ultimately they died on that stage with their masks out for everyone to see. For their people to see them throw each other away to live. If they were going to throw each other away - their own kind- what wouldn't they do to the lower class? Oof the show gave them what they deserved- humiliation.

4. Jung Sunah - I still struggle to come to terms with how she's gone and how painful everything about her was until the last minute. It's clear Sunah has been breaking for a few episodes now. She's so close to the top and she's realised how truly alone she is and she's realised Yohan will never want her the way she wants him to. She's realised every person she used to get to where she was, ended up being wasted stepping stones because she doesn't have what she wants all the way at the top and never will. The way the show has her quietly go to the experimentation centre and weep over the girl she saw herself in but someone she initially turned away from because she's not part of her bigger plan. The child she left to fall prey to the people Sunah has inevitably helped secure positions in her attempt to secure her own position. The way the show focuses on how the child has been repeatedly pierced with needles something Sunah hates the most and how she realises this is also her fault. She probably thought hey I'll get to the top and do things my way but as Yohan pointed out, ruling over trash isn't it, it'll never be worth it and she's essentially walking with a target on her back and she'll never be free because the weight of her sins will catch up to her and the rich will always be after her because she's not the same as them. She would be living on the edge forever. And she knows this.

Something I found very interesting was how she wasnt roped in on the crimes of the Dream House Project. Yohan only highlighted her crime as having killed K and Soohyun and its the frustration she feels in that moment that really gets me. It's also why I think she could never get out of the show because she killed innocent people which is highlighted repeatedly and at the time never showed remorse for it. BUT I love how the show somehow saves her from humiliation, until the end they paint her with regality and power because that is who Sunah is. Frankly she could have walked right out of the door while they were throwing a fit and Yohan would have let her because that was the terms of the game but he'd have come after her at some point and even if he didn't Gaon most certainly would have.

But it's the way the show brought it all back to how she feels about Yohan since he's the other half of what she's always wanted, the way she's happy he's alive, how she goes and stands in front of him and she's got her hand on the trigger of the gun while Yohan on the button of detonator. I believe, if Sunah had shot him Yohan would have detonated the bomb and died with them and I also believe deep down Sunah knew Yohan would somehow get out of this even if she didn't shoot him, so she really gave him the chance to get out and back to Elijah. I am not sure if Sunah couldn't shoot Yohan or if she didn't want to, and I lean towards the latter because she really liked him, it might have been ill placed desire but if things were different if she hadn't sided with the SRF in hopes of getting to the top she and Yohan might have worked things out and they would both be healing. If she only hadn't killed the innocent people to make a point... But at the end of it Sunah took her fate into her hands and I appreciate that the show gave her the agency over it, to decide not to shoot Yohan because she's finally letting go ( I stand by this but if Yohan had died Sunah would have lost - she never wanted him to die), because she won't do what the rest of the SRF scum want of her and because she's fine with going on her own terms.

That doesn't mean it didn't hurt though... I cry thinking about it because the show tried really hard to show how unfair everything was to Sunah and how if circumstances had been different, if the world had cared a bit more how she might have turned out differently. Her final moments the flashback to the one act of kindness she had needed in her life, the way Yohan really must have sparkled in her eyes, and how much she valued that moment all the way to her death because no matter what, in his own loneliness and difficulty he was kind to her. Jeez it hurts.

Ideally I'd have wanted her to live but I don't know how that would have worked out. At the end of it not all villains are evil. Some are products of the ills of the system that left them alone and let them become monsters but behind a monster there can also be a victim.

#the devil judge #kdrama #I was going to add my feels on everyone else's end #But this is already too long #and Sunah has me feeling sad

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hualianff · 3 years ago

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Distant Faces

The Lonely (Instrumental) – Christina Perri

After much deliberation, HC finally decides what to give XL on his birthday: a painted portrait of XL and his parents during Xianle’s most prosperous days. Even though HC tries his best not to remember his life during those times, he knows XL loved his parents despite how everything turned out.

It’s been over 800 years, after all.

XL had offhandedly mentioned he can’t even remember the details of his parents’ faces anymore. The way his mother’s eyes shone chocolate brown in the sunlight; the way his father scowled in disapproval but never in a malicious manner. The way his mother held him when he felt sad, let him cry on her shoulder. The way his father looked proudly upon XL as his son.

Admittedly, XL had a complex relationship with his father. They didn’t always see eye-to-eye, especially towards Xianle’s inevitable deterioration. XL can cry because he misses his mother, but with his father, it’s more than that.

It’s regret.

It’s shame.

It’s anguish for the tension that kept his father at a distance that now seems insignificant.

But being the kind of person XL is, he’d rather remember the positive aspects of his relationship with his parents than the hardships.

Especially because he feels like he failed them in the end.

HC cannot relate to XL’s experience of having loving parents who genuinely cared for him, much less the loss of such parents. An abandoned child like himself had to bear the burden of living from a young age. HC did not grow up nurtured or fawned over; HC endured his cruel existence by looking after himself.

After meeting XL again after his third ascension, HC now knows what it’s like to be loved–fiercely and unconditionally. To imagine losing XL gives HC a palpable semblance of what XL felt when he woke up completely alone on the day his parents passed. Over the decades, XL has briefly talked about that day, though never in full detail. Partially because XL’s mind has blocked out the trauma, but it is also simply too painful to remember.

Originally, HC heavily debated whether gifting his husband the portrait was even a good idea. The last thing he would want to do is upset or offend XL. HC wasn’t even sure he could properly replicate the king and queen’s faces.

Ultimately, HC decided to go through with his plan. He hopes that if anything, this painting can help XL recall his parents’ faces and the fond memories he had with them. Perhaps it could serve as an outlet for healing from the years XL suffered on his own. Everything HC does is for the happiness of his husband.

After going through one of his earliest memories via his butterflies, HC spent days sketching, outlining, and painting the portrait. He miraculously managed to portray the details as accurately as possible—MQ and FX themselves confirmed. The two heavenly officials failed to hide their teary eyes, MQ abruptly turning away while FX furiously rubbed at his cheeks. It’s one of the few instances HC holds his tongue when around the two martial gods.

There is no shortage of people who celebrate XL’s birthday when it arrives—heavenly officials, Ghost City, and worshippers alike. HC spends the entire day by his husband’s side, visiting as many festivals to witness the joyous ceremonies. Worshippers place extra lavish offerings on their altars while XL’s friends personally deliver their gifts at Puqi Shrine. (The designated location for heavenly officials.)

Once it’s evening and the festivities have calmed down, only two remain inside Puqi Shrine. HC has taken the liberty to cook a quick meal for them to share. He ladles soup into XL’s bowl, then scoops rice topped with fried fish onto his plate.

“Thank you for making us dinner, San Lang. It looks delicious,” XL says, eyes sparkling. HC smiles warmly.

“I would be a fool to not spoil Gege with wonderful food, regardless if it’s his birthday or not,” HC solemnly says. “Though I do hope he enjoys the fish and soup.”

“There are no doubts about that,” XL replies before eagerly spooning some broth into his mouth. His eyes visibly widen as he sputters a bit, spoon lowering back into the bowl. “Oh, that’s hot!”

“Careful, gege. Allow this dutiful husband to blow on it.”

They finish eating with satisfied slurps and chewing, keeping casual conversation between bites. Before XL can get up to clear off the table, HC snaps his fingers, every dish already washed and placed back in the cabinets.

They are finally alone, energy spent and stomachs no longer empty. HC’s eyes shift to the corner of the room where a covered, flat object is propped against the wall.

“Gege, I have one last present for you.”

“That’s been here this whole time? Wow, it’s so big!”

HC doubts himself even as he hands over the wrapped gift. He watches with bated breath as XL carefully works open the covering with nimble fingers to reveal what’s inside.

Once XL sees the entire painting in all its glory, his hand flies over his mouth. His initial excited smile upon tearing away the wrapping paper is replaced with a tense frown, the type when someone is trying their best not to cry.

A ragged sob escapes his lips.

XL can’t stop staring at their faces—his parents’ faces—who he hasn’t seen in centuries. Who he never got to say goodbye to. He touches the canvas, paints dried and glossed over with a finishing product that gives the image a sleek sheen. He touches their familiar faces, pleasant smiles etched onto their lips, and then his own, placed between his father and mother, smiling widely: happy.

XL hugs the canvas to his body, closing his eyes, and cries his heart out.

HC’s heart shatters at the sight of XL breaking down, though it was almost a guaranteed reaction. He doesn’t hesitate to rush forward to embrace his beloved from behind, nuzzling against XL’s temple as his smaller body trembles uncontrollably. But before HC can express his pitiful apology, he hears quiet, repetitive mumbling among XL’s broken sobs.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Gege-”

“Thank you.”

“-breathe, my love.”

“Thank you.”

Over and over again. Nearly nonsensical through ragged chokes and desperate gasps for air. HC shakes his head as tears wet his own cheeks, as if to say a thank you was not needed. He rubs up and down XL’s arm, occasionally pausing to massage his neck, anything to comfort him in his sorrow. XL suddenly grasps onto HC’s wrist, an anchor from the barrage of overwhelming emotions washed over him over the last few minutes.

HC eventually rasps out a remorseful, “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what for exactly. For triggering XL’s tears. For the death of XL’s parents. For the loneliness and grief XL has experienced and never had the proper closure to.

XL continues weeping without a sound. For the fear of ruining the portrait with his tears, XL carefully places the painting on the table. He gives the painting one last lookover, lower lip wobbling. XL bites his lip to suppress the whimper threatening to erupt from his throat.

How could he ever forgive himself?

“Me too,” a son whispers to his parents.

Half an hour later, XL and HC are situated in their bed at Paradise Manor. Per XL’s request, HC skillfully hung the painting up next to their wedding portrait. Two pieces juxtapose two different eras; one, a window to the past; the other, a relic that will remain timeless.

Someday in the future, XL will have the strength to commemorate his parents with more than just a fleeting prayer. He will describe them with words and stories that do them justice. He will honor their legacy not by following in their footsteps (for they have long disappeared against the force of time), but by practicing the values they bestowed upon him while simultaneously learning from their faults and mistakes.

However, for tonight, HC wraps XL in a snug blanket burrito, holding XL from behind as the former prince mourns in silence. HC doesn’t push his beloved. He merely squeezes XL’s hand to remind him he has someone to listen to him. The last thing XL requests before falling asleep is another portrait of his parents, this time with both him and HC sat in the middle.

“Father...Mother...if you could see me now...see how happy I am,” XL tiredly thinks, sleep beckoning him to surrender to the darkness. “You guys really...would have loved him.”

(Special thanks to @no-one-says-hi and @iaintnosidekick for listening/helping)

(Inspiration)

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #cerdrabbles #happy birthday Xie Lian !

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viltrumitesuperboy · 4 years ago

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The King of a People (Thor x Reader)

Back from hiatus. Gender neutral, can be romantic or platonic. I read longer fics than I write so I feel like I could definitely try to write more with a really good idea. So far I get things that I can write short, but I’d like to try my hand at longer works.

Requested by: anon Would you be willing to write a Thor x reader where the reader is also from Asgard and they’re in the refugee ship after the events of ragnarok and both of them just bond with each other? (Before thanos ruined the party)

Word Count: 1470

As you watched your homeland explode into dust, you could feel everyone in the ship deflate. Even through the crowd, you could see the king hang his head in silence. The ship began to move away to prevent getting caught in the blast, and Asgard became a dark spot amongst the stars. Eventually, the crowd dispersed when everyone lost sight of what was once their home.

Thor, the king returned to his place, stood from the throne and turned to his rocky friend, who spoke to him in a cheery tone. Thor pat his shoulder and turned to step away from the window. You had been helping a young child who had gotten hurt on the way to the ship. It wasn't a bad scrape, but you helped dress the wound anyway. When you reached to help them stand up, a hand on your wrist stopped you.

"Let me," Thor said.

He held his hand out to the small child, who smiled and grabbed his hand. Thor pulled them up with a gentleness that contradicted the build of his body, and put his hand on their shoulder.

"If you need to find your family, speak to Heimdall. You'll be alright," Thor promised.

The child rushed off to Heimdall, who was helping a few other people.

"Are you missing someone as well?" the god asked, now standing in your line of view.

"No, it's just me," you said. "It's been just me for a while now."

"May I ask why?"

"I was a warrior. Not anymore. I had a vision one night that a great terror would come to Asgard if I remained a soldier. And when I did, she came. I left almost instantly, but it seems it was my fault anyway."

Thor looked thoughtful, and gestured to the hallway that led further into the ship. You followed him in silence.

"Just before I came back, my father told my brother and I of Ragnarok, the end of Asgard. If anyone caused it, it was me. I had to destroy our homeland to stop Hela. Do not blame yourself for anything that has happened because you and every Asgardian are the reason that you have all survived," Thor sincerely told you.

There was a pause, mostly because you didn't know what to say.

"Also, thank you for your service," he rushed out.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you laughed.

"I've heard people on Midgard say it to their warriors. Asgard is so different and we have our traditions, but maybe we should start thanking our warriors. They've all just died to protect a planet that no longer exists. If you are one of the only few left, perhaps thanks are in place."

"Well, thank you for coming back to us. We needed you. Nothing against your brother. It was very peaceful when he ruled, actually."

Thor chuckled, his face now more visible because of his short hair.

"Sounds just like him. I'm going to search for him, if you wouldn't mind," he said.

You bowed and he gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes, continuing to walk down the hallway. He no longer had the regal stance of a prince, but a humbled one of shame and regret. Gone was the arrogant prince you served years ago. In his place was a man beaten down by so many things, but his hope remained.

———

"Thor. If you value your other eye, you will keep that away from me."

"I promise it's nothing bad! I just want to try something."

"I know what you're doing! And when you electrocute me, I am going to stab you!"

You walked into the large piloting room in the ship to see at least a dozen people spread out around the area, watching Thor and Loki bickering. Thor held a goblet of water, and Loki, who looked like he had taken a bath with his clothes on, was backed up in a corner and fending him off with a chair. Brunnhilde was sitting in the large seat, facing them as she played with some device.

"Hey, what's going on?" you asked, stepping up next to Thor.

"Ah, (Y/N)! Recently, I realised that my powers don't come from Mjolnir," he began.

"Don't listen to him!" Loki snapped. "He's trying to pour the water in a path to me so that he can use his powers on the water and electrocute me."

"Thor, do you have anything to say?" you asked, turning to him.

"In my defense, he's the best person to try it on! If we're both hurt, we heal quickly. And he gets to stab me in return, so it's fair," Thor said.

He didn't sound convinced of his own plan, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"So you're telling me you couldn't try it on an inanimate object?"

He paused, thinking to himself.

"I.. suppose not. Come, (Y/N)! We have things to do!"

He placed the goblet on the floor and marched off to one of the hallways. You looked to the prince, then to Brunnhilde, who had given him a towel to dry off with.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want Thor getting into any trouble," you said.

"Then hurry up and follow him. I'm not the one you should be worrying about," Loki replied, glancing at the Valkyrie. "Worry about her. She's an angry girl."

"Just go. Also, convince him to let us stop somewhere for supplies. And alcohol," Brunnhilde said.

You apologised again and ran off, catching a glimpse of a smirk on their faces. When you caught up to Thor, he was waiting for you outside a room.

"Your Majesty, how did you know my name?" you asked.

"Please, call me Thor. I asked Loki. He seemed to know a lot about you."

"Why were you asking about me?"

Thor froze, then began to stammer for a bit. He shut his mouth and walked into the room, as if you'd forget about it. It was funny to see the confident god flustered, and you laughed to yourself as you stepped in to follow.

———

The ship was quiet, as most people had gone to sleep. Because space was always dark, Thor had made set times for sleep to imitate the original night and day of Asgard, which people easily followed. He was their king, after all. Brunnhilde stood beside him as they both looked outside into the enmity space, with stars littered all around. You stepped up the platform to stand beside Thor.

"It's strange knowing that I only got to see Asgard one last time and aid in its destruction," Brunnhilde said.

"We served our people, and that's what matters most," you said. "Thor refuses to let me forget that it's not my fault that I survived and everyone else didn't."

"It's not your fault," Thor said.

"Then why are you blaming yourself?" Brunnhilde asked quietly.

The three of you were silent, until she let out an awkward cough.

"Alright. I'm drinking until I fall asleep. Bye."

She walked away. It was probably the most heart-to-heart you'd get from her.

"She's right. What happened with your sister wasn't your fault, and it wasn't yours either. Ragnarok was supposed to happen, whether we like it or not. And we still have the people, don't we? That's where Asgard truly is."

You turned to look at him. His face was hardened, but his remaining eye told you all you needed. He was so tired of losing people all the time. He lost his brother multiple times without knowing if he'd ever come back. If he lost his people, he'd lose his hope too. You took a step closer to him, leaving only a small space between the two of you.

"Thor, look."

He turned to you, then behind when you gestured to the ship and the few people still hanging around the area.

"Those are your people, and they're safe. They're looking forward to a new life. Even Heimdall understands that he must let go of his original position guarding the Bifrost and to guard his people instead. You need to let go of your past and be the leader that they need."

He turned back to you, and faced forward to the stars.

"There are so many worlds, and it had to be ours that was destroyed," he said, his voice rough. "I don't know what to do next."

"Well, look at all of this."

You gestured to the empty space full of stars and planets.

"You've chosen where we go next, and we have all of this universe to explore," you said. "You've given your people hope. Blaming yourself will not move us forward."

His hand reached for yours and grasped tightly. You held it back just as strong. After a few moments of silence, he exhaled shakily.

"Thank you."

#x male reader #thor x gender neutral reader #thor x reader #thor x male reader #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x male reader #thor imagine #thor odinson imagine #male reader #male reader insert #request

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tigerkirby215 · 3 years ago

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5e Sona, the Maven of the Strings build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Shilin Huang. Made for Riot Games.)

(Shit meme by yours truly.)

Revealing my Champion Mastery just to say that I play a lot of Sona. Don’t flame me for playing Seraphine and Yuumi I swear to god, and I have no idea why Teemo is in my top 10 highest mastery champs ngl.

Anyways you have no idea how happy I am as a Sona main that my girl is now top tier. I came to League of Legends from Overwatch (yes really) and I used to main Lucio in OW along with some of the more “techy” characters like Symmetra and Torbjorn. (Came to OW from TF2 where I mained Engineer and Medic.) Sona was a natural fit for me as a champion who was both easy to play and very similar to Lucio. It also helps that I joined the Rift during the single most engaging meta to ever grace this game. I was kinda too shit to play Janna but the Ardent Censer meta is also why I have such a high mastery on Lulu tbh.

youtube

But enough about my history with League: Sona! Honestly when I think of an archetypical support Sona pops into my head a lot sooner than Soraka: a champion based on empowering their teammates in as many ways as possible with heals, shields, movement speed, and CC to hold the enemy team down. I’ve always loved playing her because she feels like much more of a macro oriented character than other supports, with team-wide support as opposed to keeping one person alive like Soraka or Yuumi or focusing on CC like Morgana and Nami.

I’m going to build most if not all the champions eventually but man I am happy to tackle Sona now. She’s always been on my mind as my main but it was pretty difficult to think of how to make her. I think this build is good enough though!

Wow that was much longer of an intro than I’m used to. You can really tell which champions I’m excited for lol.

GOALS

Everything in harmony - Sona boosts everyone on her team with her songs as they fill the air.

Triple time! - Sona’s ability to boost her whole team into a good position is always beneficial.

Crescendo! - Fun fact: Sona’s ultimate is canonically extremely painful as she forces you to contort your limbs against your will. Why is Sona needlessly macabre? Well remember that Riot also wrote Volibear as an Eldritch old god.

RACE

Sona is Human but if you want to be cool you can make her a Kalashtar for resistance to Psychic damage and advantage on Wisdom saves. Regardless we’re going to be making what’s known as a dollar store Kalashtar with Variant Human. Increase your Charisma by 1 as well as your Constitution because we kinda don’t need much else. You also get proficiency in one skill of your choice which will of course be Performance, and a language which you can pick as you fancy: you won’t be speaking it anyways lmfao.

That’s because “Only you can hear me summoner; what masterpiece shall we play today?” Grab the Telepathic feat to complete this dollar store Kalashtar package. Increase your Charisma score by 1 and get a 60 foot telepathy to speak while being mute. You also learn the Detect Thoughts spell and can cast it once without using a spell slot. "Did he want... four autographs? I don't understand."

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - Charisma is tied to performance and all the other stuff a Demacian noblewoman is expected to be good at.

14; DEXTERITY - Something something medium armor; even if you wear a dress there’s no reason you can’t have some padding beneath it!

13; STRENGTH - Hey this isn’t something something medium armor!

12; CONSTITUTION - Sona may be squishy in League but I value not dying more than good skill checks honestly.

10; WISDOM - Speaking of not dying: Wisdom saves are more common, and Insight is more useful than most Intelligence skills.

8; INTELLIGENCE - We had to dump something so unfortunately Intelligence gets the short end of the stick. You may have studied under the illustrious Buvelle family but most of those lessons were music classes.

If you want a better stat array going 13 / 14 / 12 / 10 / 10 / 14 with Point Buy is perfectly viable, and if your DM is cool enough to let you multiclass without Strength then you’re more than welcome to dump it.

BACKGROUND

There’s two obvious backgrounds that fit Sona: the first is Entertainer for proficiency with Acrobatics and a skill of your choice (since we already took Performance lol.) You also get proficiency with Disguise Kits and your Etwahl! (That’s what Sona’s instrument is called btw.) Your background feature By Popular Demand allows you to play any stage once. "Some, just the once.” You can perform in exchange for a place to stay, and when you do so the local people will remember your wonderful performance!

But making an Entertainer Bard is kinda cliché, no? If you want to lean into Sona’s Demacian heritage go for the Noble background. This gives you proficiency with Persuasion and History as well as a gaming set of your choice: unfortunately Tellstones isn’t an option (unless your DM decides otherwise!) so a Dragonchess Set will do well enough. Oh and you get another language that you won’t speak: fun! Your Position of Privilege makes it easy for you to arrange meetings with other important people, and the commonfolk will be kind and cordial with you.

(Screenshot from the Tellstones: King’s Gambit trailer by Riot Games.)

I personally opted to go for Noble when making this build, but if you want to choose Entertainer go right ahead! Backgrounds don’t affect too much overall and it’s up to you (and your DM) to make your own Sona!

(Artwork from League of Legends Wild Rift. Made for Riot Games. RIOT PLEASE UPDATE MUSE SONA ON PC I’M BEGGING YOU!)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - BARD 1

I mean what else did you expect? Bards get proficiency in three musical instruments of their choice: a Lyre is the closest you’ll get to Sona’s Etwahl, though a Dulcimer is also pretty close. I’d also recommend grabbing a Lute since most magical instruments come in Lute variety.

You also get proficiency in 3 skills of your choice like Perception to watch wards, Insight to watch people, and Athletics for a bit of Tenacity to break out of grapples. (As well as potentially grab some people yourself! Although Acrobatics is also perfectly fine for escaping grapples.)

As a Bard you can boost your ADC with Bardic Inspiration, letting them add a d6 to attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. You have a number of these equal to your Charisma modifier and they come back after a Long Rest.

But of course the main reason to play a Bard is to do Demacian-banned Spellcasting! You learn two cantrips from the Bard list like Vicious Mockery for some diminuendo, making it harder for the enemy to hurt your allies while also cutting them down to size. (I don’t know if your DM will let you slap your Etwahl angrily and then point at them judgingly, but you may have to break your vow of silence every now and then.) You can also learn Prestidigitation for all sorts of general magic stuff that you really shouldn’t do in front of anyone important.

You of course also learn 4 Bard spells like Cure Wounds and Healing Word for the atypical healing spells, Dissonant Whispers for some Hymn of Valor damage, and Detect Magic which you’ll likely be expected to cast as the designated support. *Sigh* Always gotta buy wards.

LEVEL 2 - BARD 2

Second level Bards could be called a Jack of All Trades, as you get to add half your proficiency bonus to any skill you aren’t proficient in. This means even if your ability scores are bad the skills you don’t have proficiency in are still good enough! You also get Song of Rest, letting your allies recover an extra d6 of health during Short Rests. And if you have Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything Magical Inspiration will let your allies add their Bardic Inspiration to the damage or healing of a spell they cast!

And finally you can learn another spell: against as the designated support you’re expected to take Identify.

LEVEL 3 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two skills: Performance is an obvious must and Persuasion would probably be good as well.

But more importantly you get to choose your Bardic College and if you want to both shield your allies and speed them up look no further than the College of Glamour! That’s because Mantle of Inspiration grants 5 temporary hitpoints to a number of creatures within 60 feet of you equal to your Charisma modifier (which can include yourself by the way!) Additionally those creatures can move up to their movement speed as a reaction without provoking opportunity attacks, making this a great tool to reposition an ally who’s caught in a dangerous position!

You’re also capable of creating an Enthralling Performance: if you perform for at least 1 minute, you can attempt to inspire wonder in your audience. At the end of the performance you can choose a number of humanoids within 60 feet of you who watched and listened to all of it, up to a maximum equal to your Charisma modifier. Each target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be charmed by you.

While charmed in this way, the target idolizes you, and speaks glowingly of you to anyone who talks to them. They also hinder anyone who opposes you, although they avoid violence unless it was already inclined to fight for you. This effect ends on a target after 1 hour unless they take any damage, you attack it, or it witnesses you attacking or damaging any of its allies. If a target succeeds on its saving throw the target has no hint that you tried to charm it, and you can use this ability once per Short or Long Rest.

Finally you can learn second level spells like Hold Person, for a one-man version of your ultimate.

LEVEL 4 - BARD 4

Ah the first of many Ability Score Improvements. You may have noticed our deliberately uneven Charisma modifier: that’s because I’m going to be taking the Fey Touched feat for +1 to your Charisma, the Misty Step spell (for Flash, of course), and the Gift of Alacrity spell from Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount for a Song of Celerity! Accelerated movement? I concur.

You can also learn another spell as well as another cantrip! For your cantrip take Mage Hand for help warding those hard-to-reach areas, and for your spell take Lesser Restoration, because yeah it’s also your job to buy Mikael’s. *Sigh.*

LEVEL 5 - BARD 5

5th level Bards get a Font of Inspiration that lets their Bardic Inspiration come back after a Short Rest as well as a Long Rest. That’s good because your Bardic Inspiration increases to a d8, which also boosts your Mantle of Inspiration to grant 8 temporary hitpoints!

You can also learn another spell like Hypnotic Pattern: while it won’t do any damage and your allies can’t hit the dancing enemies it’ll still be the best recreation of your ultimate for now.

(Artwork by Katie “TeaTime” De Sousa. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 6 - PALADIN 1

I hope you weren’t expecting this to be a pure Bard build, because then I’d just be building Seraphine again! Grab your something something Medium Armor as well as a shield (well technically you need both hands free to play a musical instrument) it’s Paladin time, master of auras!

Paladins get a Lay on Hands pool equal to 5 times their Paladin level for some more healing. You can touch a creature to give them any amount of health from your Lay on Hands, or use 5 hitpoints from your Lay on Hands pool to neutralize a poison or disease affecting them. You also get Divine Sense to locate any Celestial, Fiend, or Undead as long as they’re within 60 feet of you and not behind total cover. Don’t worry it gets a lot more exciting later.

LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 2

Second level Paladins can choose their Fighting Style and you’re still more of a mage than a warrior, so Blessed Warrior will give you two cantrips from the Cleric list that use your Charisma! Guidance is an obvious must for a support and Toll the Dead is a great option if you want to go full AP.

Should you have options for attacks to target enemies who have high Wisdom? Yeah probably: Sacred Flame might be a good choice.

Of course cantrips also imply more Spellcasting! You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Charisma modifier plus half your Paladin level (rounded down) which is currently a freaking lot of spells. Let’s just go down the list, shall we?

Bless is great to buff your team and make them harder, better, faster, and stronger.

Command is a mostly harmless Enchantment spell that will force your foes to do as you, well, command. I’d argue “dance” is a reasonable Command.

Protection from Evil and Good is never bad to have in your back pocket in case you’re fighting either Kayle or Fiddlesticks.

And Shield of Faith will let you boost your ADC’s survivability with Ardent Censer!

I know you can prepare more spells but there isn’t much I want from first level of Paladin. I am contractually obligated to mention that you can also turn your spell slots into a Divine Smite if you hit an enemy with a melee weapon, but you aren’t really going to be using weapons in this build. That’s right boys hop aboard the caster Paladin train!

LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 3

Third level Paladins get to choose their Sacred Oath and Oath of the Watchers may seem weird but it’s really good at defending your allies. That’s because you get two different Channel Divinity options: Abjure the Extraplanar works similarly to the Cleric’s Turn Undead feature except it affects Aberrations, Celestials, Elementals, Fey, and Fiends.

Watcher’s Will meanwhile lets you choose a number of creatures you can see within 30 feet of you, up to your Charisma modifier. For 1 minute, you and the chosen creatures have advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws. This means that in a party of 6 this ability can give your whole party advantage on all mental saves, which is huge for keeping everyone alive against nasty casters! See? Demacia can use your magic!

Speaking of magic you get Alarm and Detect Magic as Oath spells. (Might want to swap Detect Magic from your Bard list with Mass Healing Word ty Tasha’s.) You can also use Harness Divine Power to regain a spell slot equal to half your proficiency bonus a number of times per Long Rest. And you get Divine Health, because you don’t take a sick day to stop complaining about Seraphine.

LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 4

4th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement: cap off that Charisma for maximum AP scaling!

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 5

5th level Paladins can finally prepare second level spells! As a Watchers Paladin you get access to Moonbeam as well as See Invisibility, both of which are very good for dealing with incoming gankers.

You can also prepare spells like Aid to boost your allies’ HP, Prayer of Healing (ty Tasha’s) for some out-of-combat healing, and Warding Bond for a Knight’s Vow.

Oh and you get an Extra Attack, which sure would matter if you were actually using weapons.

LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 6

6th level reasons get the main reason Sona’s a Paladin: Aura of Protection! All your saving throws are increased by an amount equal to your Charisma modifier, which is a full +5 currently! But what’s special about this ability is that it also applies to your allies within 10 feet of you, letting you give out auras a plenty to keep your allies safe!

You can also prepare another spell but again: not much I really want. So we’re going to be waiting a little while longer once again.

LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 7

7th level Watchers Paladins get Aura of the Sentinel, or as I like to call it: Song of Celerity. When you or any creature of your choice within 10 feet of you roll for initiative, they gain a bonus to initiative equal to your proficiency bonus. While this may make positioning a little difficult (everyone’s going to have to huddle around you) this ability guarantees that you can speed up all your important allies to make sure they get their powerful abilities off!

LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 8

8th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement or a Feat. You may have noticed your uneven Constitution score: grab good ol’ Resilient Constitution for a boost to your health and even more insurance on your Concentration checks. With your Paladin aura and proficiency you’d have a +12 total to your Constitution checks currently, meaning that if you take 24 damage or less you won’t even have to roll for Concentration!

LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 9

You are probably the only Paladin who cares about spells, so it’s nice that you get 3rd level spells now! Watchers Paladins get two very strong third level spells: Nondetection will help you deward and keep your allies safe from enemies that may try to sneak a peak at you, but Counterspell is the true best choice to stop danger from befalling your allies. What’s very good about Counterspell is that as a Bard you get to add Jack of All Trades to the skill check, meaning it’s far easier for you to deny an incomming spell than any other spellcaster! “Mages have enough problems without you.”

Of course you can prepare some more spells like Aura of Vitality for Aria of Perseverance, and Revivify for an ADC’s Guardian Angel. But having access to spells like Remove Curse, Dispel Magic, Crusader’s Mantle, and even Daylight on the Paladin spell list are all extremely useful to be able to prepare. Remember that you are doing yourself a disservice by not taking time to think about what the best spells to prepare would be for your current quest. "Every note is important."

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 15 - BARD 6

Now that we’ve got all our auras it’s time to go back to Bard for Mantle of Majesty! As a bonus action, you cast Command without expending a spell slot as you take on an appearance of unearthly beauty for 1 minute. During that minute you can cast Command as a bonus action on each of your turns without expending a spell slot. Additionally any creature charmed by you automatically fails its saving throw against the command you cast with this feature. You do have to concentrate on this feature (like a spell), and once you use it you can’t do so again until you finish a long rest.

You can also learn another spell but there isn’t much I want from the third level of Bard, really. Oh and you get Countercharm which is awful and I hate it, but since you didn’t take a 10th level in Paladin I suppose you have to use it. Spend an action to give allies advantage on their saving throws against charms and fears, I guess.

LEVEL 16 - BARD 7

7th level Bard; 4th level spells. Freedom of Movement will let you help either yourself or an ally with Mikael’s Crucible, and Dimension Door is great to get into lane fast, or back to base fast!

LEVEL 17 - BARD 8

8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement, and if you don’t like the look of something something Medium Armor then the Eldritch Adept feat might be able to help. Take the Mask of Many Faces invocation to be able to cast Disguise Self at will to change your skins as you please.

Could you have taken this earlier? Absolutely. Are there better invocations? Yeah probably, but by level 17 you can make some of your own choices. Build your own Sona: this is merely a guide and you can make your own choices.

Speaking of own choices: take whichever spell you want at this level. There’s plenty of great ones for a 4th level Bard and I can’t recommend anything in particular to you. Every musician has their own style, and it’s up to you to find your own!

(Artwork by Yan Li. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 18 - BARD 9

9th level Bards get to pretend that increasing Song of Rest from a d6 to a d8 by total level 18 is helpful.

You do get access to 5th level spells like Mass Cure Wounds, which is like Mass Healing Word but better! "Harmoniously."

LEVEL 19 - BARD 10

10th level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: Perception is an obvious must to watch over your wards but beyond that? Honestly pick your poison with whatever skill you want since by level 19 you can make your own choices. (Though my personal choice would be Athletics to hopefully give some more safety against grapples.)

But of course the main boon of reaching level 10 in Bard is the Magical Secrets! ...I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you again: there honestly aren’t any spells in particular I want as Magical Secrets. Sure I could recommend spells like Haste or whatever but are they really going to be that great by total level 20? To be honest even the spells on the Bard list like Animate Objects, Greater Restoration, Hold Monster, Rary's Telepathic Bond, Scrying, and Synaptic Static are very good (although I’d sooner replace some of your old spells with them.)

Again I know this is supposed to be a “guide” but most people won’t hit level 19 anyways, so I don’t think it’s that bad for me to recommend you take your own steps to make your own Sona. Hell, build some AP if you want! I know I would!

LEVEL 20 - BARD 11

Our final level is the 11th level of Bard and I’ll be honest: it’s just to add Otto's Irresistible Dance to your spell list. It can only affect one person but it’s still your ultimate by total level 20.

Oh and you were supposed to get a cantrip last level. Uhhhhh I dunno take Mending lol.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

The rhythm connects us all - You have dozens of spells to keep your team alive and active during a fight, not to mention that all your Paladin auras and abilities really help them give 110%. It’s worth mentioning that Gift of Alacrity combined with Aura of the Sentinel is a d8 + 6 to an Initiative roll, which will almost always guarantee that whoever you want to go first will be going first!

A true masterpiece should celebrate living - Despite your somewhat weird level split you maxed out the only stat which matters for you: Charisma. And woah holy shit turns out Paladins are really good with maxed out Charisma! +5 to all saves means even your lowest save is a +4, and the saves your proficient in vary between +13 for Dexterity and Constitution (both very common!) and a whopping +16 save on Charisma!

Curtains up; I'm ready - Jack of All Trades also does quite nicely to help your middling skills. Even though I dumped most of your mental skills you’re still proficient enough that you won’t be completely helpless when caught off guard. And when you’re in the zone with Persuasion or Performance you are easily the best girl around!

CONS

Don't make me get off stage - It was my intention to recreate Sona’s positional gameplay with this build but it does present some gameplay issues when trying to maximize your effectiveness. Where do you position yourself as a character who’s still primarily a squishy caster despite your good saving throws and AC? Can you give everyone in your party support, or are they too spread out to get value out of your 10 foot range auras?

Quiet, please! - You have a damn good concentration check, but what do you concentrate on? Not only do you have a ton of spells but they all scale very good with levels and you have spell slots that go far higher than your maximum level spell. It can be hard to choose what to do with those 7th and 8th level slots.

The world is cruel... Until that changes, I'll never stop playing - One of many “meta” problems with this build was my choice to focus almost entirely on support. Sure Toll the Dead is a great damaging cantrip but your only two damaging spells are Moonbeam and Dissonant Whispers. Again: you don’t have to follow my build point-for-point and while you’ll be flamed in League for building Sona full AP I don’t think your friends will mind if you take some damaging spells.

But if you can’t tell it was really hard for me to come up with those downsides. With the exception of the positional requirements a Bardadin is a very strong build and Sona is a very strong support. Boost your teammates with your own amazing power and make sure everyone’s alive and jamming! Your power may have been forgotten over the years but no one’s ever upset to have a great support at their side. And remember: Seraphine may be in K/DA but you’re in Pentakill, and you have your own label! No one can replace DJ Sona!

youtube

#dnd #dnd 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Sona #Sona #Seraphine didn't replace her #shut the fuck up #dnd bard #dnd paladin #music #Youtube

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simprisottowriter · 4 years ago

Note

I absolutely adored your head cannons for Giorno and Bruno! I’d love to see some similar ones for either Jotaro or Josuke 💜

I'd be delighted to write for both of them, rainfoxx! Both Jotaro and Josuke are wonderful choices! I have a soft spot for them! As always, hope you like these headcanons!

°Fluff Headcanons°

◇ Having built his career, his work takes a big part of his day. So even when he is in his office, finishing papers for hours, he always leaves Star Platinum to roam around the house, mostly being by your side. Star Platinum expresses every emotion that Jotaro doesn’t. It is so obvious that the stand is delighted to be with you! Being intrigued by every small task you do around the house, it is always very willing and excited to give you a hand. Even if Star accidentally ends up making a mess.

◇ Star Platinum loves learning new things, and treasures every time you read him a book. Though, whenever you leave the stand from your sight, it might end up bringing random things from outside. If you end up with someone else's drink or with a new kitten, it’s not your fault. Caring for Star Platinum is like babysitting an energetic and happy child.

◇ Jotaro loves staying at home. Crowds overwhelm him. Near you, he feels different than he does with other people. To him, you feel home. ♡

◇ He treasures the moments full of silence that you spend together. Sometimes, he likes not having anything to talk about. Just doing his thing and being near you is fine for him. Silence for him isn’t awkward. It’s a way of showing that he feels comfortable enough with you to be himself.

◇ The first time you met him, in a project regarding marine wildlife, you probably felt his overwhelmingly cold and intimidating attitude that everyone was telling you about. No matter what others were gossiping about Jotaro’s behavior, you wanted to learn more about him. Thus, you were the one who invited Jotaro to your group. Though, you were worried if he didn’t like your presence, since it was difficult to understand what he was feeling. Your worries disappeared as you listened to him answer so eagerly and softly to your every question about sea life. It was strange but comforting to see him with a much softer expression than before.

◇ Thing is, that he feels intimidating to others that cannot read him and understand him as well as you do. Jotaro is truly a thoughtful sweetheart, and once he loves someone he'll do everything he can to ensure they are safe. Even if he shows it a bit harshly and in an overprotective way, he truly cares. He even makes Star Platinum act as your personal guard.

◇ His ideal date would probably be a calm walk by the sea or a short stroll around town. Ideally, he’d like living in a small seaside town, away from the crowded areas of the city. Wouldn’t mind visiting the aquarium. Though, the exotic sea-life isn’t something that impresses him. He has already seen these rare species through his work and in numerous books. Steals soft glances at you, while you look at all the colorful fish that gather at your finger, while tapping on the glass. You can basically see him blushing through his hat, even if he tips it to hide his blushing-red face. ♡

◇ Jotaro truly falls for someone's personality and their sweet smile. Everything else is superficial. Appearances don’t matter to him a lot.

◇ At the start, he's very private about his hobbies. Though, he has many interests aside from marine biology. His hobbies don't always circle around his career.

◇ Not very good with affection or PDA in general. At first, he'd shy out from cuddling, and let Star Platinum keep you in its arms. But when Jotaro warms up to your presence, his hugs are more frequent and godlike. Full of warmth, unparalleled comfort and so protective, that you feel like you are safe from everything. You'll melt in his strong arms. ♡

◇ Avid fan of dad jokes. Says them anytime he can. Mostly says them quietly, as you are beside him, so that you are the only one who can hear them.

◇ Would cook for you whenever he has free time. He might be a workaholic, but he loves caring for you.

◇ Elegantly emanates a fragrance of body spray, paired with a soft scent of seawater and fresh air. His clothes always smell divine. Like they just came out of the drier. Generally, Jotaro feels like a gentle morning breeze.

◇ Sleeps with the dolphin plush you bought him for his birthday. Has even given it a cute nickname.

◇ He's not very accustomed to technology, but he’s trying his best! You're much more knowledgeable with devices than him, so he really admires you for that.

◇ Clean, very sharp and bold handwriting. Neat but plain. Mostly writes in caps. Never forgets punctuation.

◇ When he is in high spirits, he lets his favorite cassettes play in the background, filling the room with the gentle sound of jazz and blues. R&B is also a big favorite of his. He always makes sure to play his music not very loud, since he doesn't want to bother you. Though, you love listening to his fave songs! You always praise his good taste in music till he becomes red-faced. Adores every song you recommend him.

◇ His frequent visits to the sea are mostly work related. But even when he observes and researches sea life by the shore, he never forgets to bring home a small seashell for you. He says that its delicate and beautiful, which reminded him of you. ♡

◇ Summer in Morioh means relaxing hangouts with Josuke, full of his warmth and affection. Though, when the first leaves fall and school life is around the corner, the time you can spend together is more limited than before. That doesn’t mean he can’t go out with you after school!

◇ Loves going on study dates. The atmosphere of the cafe is relaxing. Even if he jokes with you most of the time, and doesn’t do any school work during your hangouts, he isn't as careless as he seems. Through these study dates he ensures that you are keeping up with your studies. Plus, he understands way better the subjects when you explain them to him! University is a bit difficult for both of you, but Josuke’s presence makes it much more bearable!

◇ Though, Josuke would prefer hanging out at home. Adores being in the safety of his room, where he could express his love for you through cuddles and any kind of physical affection. If I didn’t make this clear enough, Josuke loves PDA! Whenever he notices that you feel a bit down, he immediately squeezes you in his arms! ♡

◇ Whenever you are hanging out at home, Josuke’s stand loves being by your side! It is as affectionate as he is. Crazy Diamond always keeps you in his embrace while you are gaming with Josuke. Sometimes, it will take you in its arms just to ensure you are not harmed in any way, by checking if you have any wounds it can heal for you. ♡

◇ Josuke will always check on you, and make sure you are eating well, staying hydrated and getting enough sleep. Usually through text messages. He would prefer phone calls, as he likes hearing your voice. Josuke might not even care this much for himself and his health, but his first priority is taking care of his friends, and most importantly, you!

◇ He loves making you happy. Not only with quality time spent together, but also with small gifts! Whenever he can afford buying something extra for you, he will. He’ll spend his cash for you without second thinking.

◇ Emanates a sweet scent of cinnamon and lavender. The smell of his hair gel is very soft and characteristic.

◇ Always lets you borrow his clothes. You haven't realized how adorable he thinks you look in his outfit! ♡

◇ Delicate, legible and cursive handwriting. It looks a bit childish, but his letters are very clean! While taking notes (which is a bit rare on its own), he definitely doodles on each page. His textbook is filled with cute and messy sketches of stickmen, flowers and houses.

◇ Usually has a variety of pop, rock and R&B songs in his playlist, which is mainly filled with Prince’s songs. Always likes sharing with you any new song he finds. He is very excited to describe to you all the emotions he felt while listening to it. Really values a good melody! Is very bashful when you send Josuke a playlist you made for him.

◇ If you manage to wake up really early, Josuke won’t have his hairdo ready yet. His pompadour takes quite some time to do, so you always love helping him prepare his hairstyle. He finds it endearing how much you care for him, how carefully you brush his hair and apply his hair gel. Though, when its just you two, he doesn’t mind letting his hair down. His luscious, messy locks make your heart skip a beat, but Josuke has no clue. ♡

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shih-coulda-had-it · 4 years ago

Text

casualty report

my entry for @queenangst‘s bnha gen contest! Link to AO3, but also contained below the Keep Reading.

WC: 2,454

Summary: Hospitals are supposed to be places of healing. Yet whenever Toshinori sits in one with Gran Torino, it seems that Toshinori is always clawing at his own heart. Spoilers up to C305.

The air is cold, sterile, and silent, save for the low hum of machinery and intermittent beeping of the heart monitor.

Yagi Toshinori enters Gran Torino’s assigned room in a similarly muted fashion, sliding the door open and shut with barely a click. He finds the chair where he left it; the old man hasn’t gotten any visitors besides him and the nurses. Like Midoriya, Torino teeters on the knife edge of survival, and like Midoriya’s classmates, Torino’s colleagues are swamped with work.

Toshinori has the privilege to visit them both. So he splits his time between his teacher-mentor-father and his student-successor-son and waits. They are similarly stubborn about clinging to life; Toshinori is confident they will wake.

Whether they will be happy about it…

As he sits, Gran Torino’s eyes crack open. His already labored breathing stutters, resulting in a full-body twitch that eventually culminates in a pained groan.

“Take it slow,” Toshinori advises.

“Stupid lesson from a stupid teacher,” Torino snaps. Toshinori looks away to focus on the bright yellow fabric bundled on top of a cabinet, neither laundered nor repaired. He’ll have to do it later.

The silence between them is tense. Surprisingly, it’s Torino who breaks it.

“Izuku?”

“Coma,” Toshinori says, fingers curling into fists. Before Torino can curse, Toshinori adds, “I think he’s talking to the predecessors of One for All.”

“Not something you could do,” the old man comments. He’s peering down at his injuries with a detached fascination: the maimed leg, the thick compress hiding beneath his bandages. Toshinori is uncomfortably reminded of his own injury, and of his own convalescence. He had recovered quickly, and privately, though he suspects that One for All had assisted with the process.

However lucky Torino is to have survived, Toshinori thinks the aftermath will be so much messier.

“It’s not,” he agrees.

“How can you tell?”

“A feeling,” says Toshinori. He forges on despite Gran Torino’s disbelieving eyebrows. “I think oshishou had a point, about the predecessors’ spirits living on in One for All. I’m not able to channel One for All anymore, but I think I still have some connection to the Quirk.”

“Ghosts in the machine,” says Torino dryly. He studies Toshinori. “Oh. You’re not joking.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this.”

Honestly, Toshinori had thought Torino would be ecstatic (as ecstatic as the old man ever got, as he swung between smugness, serenity, and seething fury) at the possibility of reconnecting with Shimura Nana. He had also quailed at the thought of telling Gran Torino that Toshinori’s own connection seemed to be a one-way thing.

And Toshinori doesn’t know how to tell Torino that he feels betrayed, in a way.

When he was researching the previous users of One for All, an alien-like urgency had pushed him past investigating to obsessing. As though a whisper had filtered through his head and said: what else, what more, why now?

Shinomori’s case. The hypothesis that Toshinori’s Quirkless heritage had protected him from the pitfalls of a stockpile Quirk.

The harsh intake of multiple people breathing in at once, even though Toshinori had been alone, with only stacks of heavily-redacted reports to keep him company. All of Toshinori’s devotion, and it had earned him nothing but sleepless nights and silent vigils.

Torino sighs then, heavy with resignation. And just like that, he moves on. “Shigaraki?”

“Escaped,” Toshinori reluctantly says. He doesn’t want to talk about the current situation of society and its failure to stabilize in the wake of so many terrible revelations and events. He really doesn’t want to talk about Tartarus. Except, it will be impossible to keep Torino in the dark about it forever. “Don’t have a heart attack on me, but—All for One’s back on the field.”

One heartbeat. Then two.

Something like forty years ago, Gran Torino and Toshinori had sat in a hospital room, numbed to the core by the very real confrontation and consequence of baiting All for One into the light. The superficial injuries belied the grief suffusing Toshinori’s body, and although he hadn’t recognized it at the time, the terror in Torino’s.

White-faced, Gran Torino had told Toshinori that they could not afford to stop moving.

Sleep. Wake up. Go to school. Your internship hours are going to be spent sparring with me.

For the rest of the year?

Until I’m goddamn satisfied.

It was a miracle they had survived the first week without killing each other. In retrospect, Toshinori could see the value in Torino’s decision to forgo the mourning period. Toshinori had still ended up sobbing on the ground, confessing to his father what he could not to his mother.

And of course, without dwelling on Toshinori’s admission, Gran Torino moved on to the next point of business.

“Cockroach,” Torino says through gritted teeth. The heart monitor stays impressively calm. “Third time’s the charm, then?”

“Torino-sensei, the third time was Kamino Ward. It’s safe to say the odds are against us.”

Toshinori’s bleak assessment earns him a narrowed glare, and it’s a sign of how exhausted and bitter Toshinori feels that he is unfazed. He can afford to be scared of Torino when Torino is walking of his own volition, cursing up a storm about the fact that he can no longer eat a whole box of microwaved taiyaki.

“Casualties?”

“Multiple civilians,” says Toshinori. “Multiple pro-heroes. None of the students, thank goodness.”

Torino stares at him. “There were no students at the hospital.”

“Many were… encouraged to participate in the mansion raid.” It still leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Terrible, yes, to see Eraserhead bandaged up yet again due to Toshinori’s failures, but it was even worse to see his students file back into U.A.’s dorms, eyes shadowed with something more than grief. Midnight’s death haunts them still.

The old man breathes.

“What else?”

“A loss of trust,” Toshinori says, leaning his elbows on his knees, fingers pressed together like a prayer. “Civilians want to protect themselves, and the remaining pro-heroes of Japan are stretched thin. Some died, and many are retiring.” He offers Torino a mirthless smile. “Yoroi Musha is out.”

“Twenty years too late,” Torino responds.

“You never liked him.”

“Gimmicky cowards with a chip on their shoulder shouldn’t be in this line of work.”

Well. Either Toshinori takes that as a personal insult, an unintentional dig, or Gran Torino’s acerbic sense of humor. He goes quiet anyway. Now is a good time as any for a lull in conversation to occur, but Toshinori doesn’t get long to contemplate his next move.

“What’s eating you up,” Torino demands flatly.

“Nothing.”

“Pull my other leg.”

“It’s nothing,” Toshinori stresses. “And if there was something, I wouldn’t want to talk about it.”

“Toshinori. When you bottle up your specific brand of guilt, it has a tendency to backfire on you spectacularly,” says Torino. “I’m not walking away for a long time, so get it off your chest right now while I’m wired to half a dozen machines.”

Toshinori interlocks his fingers.

“Toshinori.”

“The Public Safety Commission has been disbanded,” he tries. “Their headquarters were attacked the same time the raids occurred.”

“Unsurprising,” says Torino.

“I don’t think anyone could have anticipated a direct attack, Torino-sensei.”

“I’m not talking about the Commission. I’m talking about you. Deflecting.”

Hospitals are supposed to be places of healing. Yet whenever Toshinori sits in one with Gran Torino, it seems that Toshinori is always clawing at his own heart.

“Do I disappoint you?” Toshinori asks, resigned to hearing an answer he already knows, staring hard at his hands. He’s pushing the wrong side of his fifties, less grizzled and more gaunt, more of a beanpole and less of a pillar. It’s impossible to remember all the things he did right when all Toshinori can see is where he went wrong.

And even though Gran Torino looks so fragile, tiny and bedridden, bandaged and hooked up to more machines than Toshinori can count on one hand—he still has the strength to look ahead.

Toshinori didn’t learn that. He had thought he did, those six years ago when he survived the fight with All for One, because in spite of the grievous injury, All Might had forged on.

“You can be honest,” Toshinori says. “Just like in U.A.”

“We’re a long way from that time,” says Gran Torino. His expectant and unimpressed expression hasn’t changed.

“It was a yes or no question, Torino-sensei.”

“No, then.”

He says it so simply. Toshinori blinks. Torino tips his head to the side, watching with half-lidded eyes how Toshinori processes his answer. Except Toshinori cannot fathom when this change of perception happened, because just as recently as Kamino Ward, Toshinori had still been reduced to sitting on his ass, listening to Gran Torino’s instructions.

“You’ve done more than anyone should have asked of you,” Torino says. “And you did it well.”

“I overlooked so many problems,” Toshinori protests. “So many people didn’t feel safe.”

“Brat,” says Gran Torino fondly.

“Torino-sensei.”

“There’s something more than that. You’ve been dealing with that insecurity for decades, and you know as well as I do that even a Symbol of Peace can’t catch everything. What’s going on?” Torino is ruthless when he wants to make a point; Toshinori circles back to his original impulsive question and thinks—

“Midoriya-shonen,” says Toshinori in a soft voice. “He’s talking to the predecessors.”

“So you said.”

“And I couldn’t. I can’t, even now, even though I’m connected to One for All still.” From there, the words come spilling out. “Oshishou told me from the beginning that One for All had some kind of spiritual essence. She might not have said outright about the voices, but she hinted at it. That we could meet again, somehow. And all those years… forty years, Torino-sensei, and—and nothing. Not a word, not a vision.”

Midoriya’s crybaby genes must have bounced over the connection, because horrifically, Toshinori can feel his face contort and his eyes water. He hasn’t cried in front of Gran Torino in decades.

“Like I wasn’t worthy,” Toshinori concludes, choking on the last word.

Here is what Toshinori learned on his own, independent of Gran Torino’s teachings: don’t cry. Smile through the fear and the pain, and don’t cry.

Conveniently, Toshinori has forgotten that all those decades ago, Gran Torino never censured him for his tears. So it is now, that Toshinori feels the unfamiliar prickle and the cooling trails sliding down his face, and Gran Torino says nothing.

Until he does.

“You’re everything Shimura stopped hoping for. Did you know that?” Toshinori jerks his head up from its bowed position; he can hear oshishou saying in her wry tone, typical Torino. Can’t make eye contact when communicating an emotion. “I saw her through almost every big milestone in her life. Her pro-hero license, her marriage, her pregnancy. The loss of her husband, and then her son.”

“You didn’t try and stop her.”

“She knew best.” Torino’s grin is painful. “I believed that then, and I believe it now. Kotarou survived longer than he would’ve if he stayed in her custody, which was ultimately her goal. So Shimura was right on that, never mind what Kotarou did with his life after. And you… I told you already.”

“You know me,” Toshinori jokes. He recalls his rusty impression of Torino’s lecturing tone, perfected during those golden hours of patrol with oshishou. “‘It takes twice as long for me to tell you something, versus me beating the lesson into you once.’”

“Then listen,” says Torino. “When Shimura met you, she was still hurting from giving up Kotarou. She couldn’t stop being a hero, but she didn’t want to stop being a mother. And every day, the news cycle spoke of a crime wave, fueled by something bigger than the injustices of the world.

“I was enough to keep her from drowning in work. It wasn’t until she met you that she started smiling again. That she had a son again.”

Toshinori scrubs his eyes. “Really could’ve used this talk forty years ago,” he manages.

“I wasn’t this emotionally intelligent forty years ago.”

“If Hound Dog ever managed to sit us down for therapy, he’d diagnose us both as emotionally-stunted,” he tells Torino. “You probably perpetuated a family cycle, Torino-sensei.”

“One of us cries, and it isn’t me,” Torino shoots back waspishly.

“It’s Midoriya-shonen,” Toshinori agrees.

Torino’s laugh comes out as a wheeze, and Toshinori winces in sympathy. The exhaustion that comes out of crying begins to settle in; he hasn’t allowed himself to cry for a while. Not in front of the students, and not in front of his colleagues. Gran Torino is situated in that blurred zone of family and teacher and co-worker.

Gran Torino is tiring as well. The conversation’s taken a lot out of him, and it surely doesn’t help that he was treated to a hint of Toshinori’s resurfacing insecurities.

“You asked if you disappointed me,” the old man says quietly, hoarsely. “Didn’t I disappoint you?”

His throat sticks.

Torino smiles, wry. “I know,” he says.

“Torino-sensei,” Toshinori attempts, horrified at his slip. He should fix this. He has to make sure Gran Torino knows that the past is past, and that his efforts haven’t been wasted on an ungrateful child. As Toshinori opens his mouth to reassure Torino, an urgent flicker of something calls out to him.

His head jerks to the door. Outside, down the hallway, in another room—

“He’s waking?”

Toshinori looks back to Torino, distractedly saying, “Yes,” before he freezes. Gran Torino has propped himself up halfway, teeth gritted with the effort it takes. He has reached out and clumsily pressed his hand against Toshinori’s forehead, fingers dipping into his hair.

It feels like a benediction.

“I am,” Torino forces out, “so proud of you. I could not be prouder. You were worth it, do you hear me, Toshinori? You are, still.”

The moment doesn’t last forever. Whatever burst of adrenaline fuels Torino, it dwindles with emotional vulnerability. He pats the top of Toshinori’s head and slumps back into his pillow, looking gray with exhaustion.

For his part, Toshinori stares, wide-eyed, like he’s fourteen years old again, meeting Gran Torino for the first time.

“Go,” says Torino. “Izuku shouldn’t wake up alone. He should have his family with him.”

There is a weak grin pulling at Torino’s mouth, familiar in its toothiness. Toshinori gets to his feet. He’s unable to return the smile, because he is suddenly terrified that if he leaves this room, Torino will somehow find a way to escape the hospital, hole up in his apartment, and—and—

“He’ll need you too,” says Toshinori. “Get better soon, tou—Torino-sensei.”

Gran Torino closes his eyes, and Yagi Toshinori moves on.

#queenangst gen contest #bnha #torino sorahiko #gran torino #yagi toshinori #all might #shih.txt #/DIVES THROUGH THE FINISH LINE/ TOUCHDOWN #found family feels #except the found family won't/can't acknowledge it #this is a long overdue conversation i hope we get in canon

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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 4 years ago

Text

In a college playing field, a red gossamer veil with intricate gold embroidery has been carefully laid out on the grass. A young woman takes a paint brush hesitantly, then starts to daub it with paint.

The bleak words she writes are at odds with the delicate fabrics in vibrant monsoon colours which gleam in the sun.

She is one of a group of students attending a workshop at a college in Lahore, Pakistan, for woman who have been sexually abused, in which they have been painting their #MeToo stories on to red veils.

They will be sewn together to make a huge veil which protestors will hold aloft during the Aurat March (Women’s March), which will take place across cities in Pakistan for International Women’s Day today (Monday, March 8).

The workshops were set up by Leena Ghani, organiser of the Lahore branch of the march who said she was overwhelmed by the response, as painted veils flooded in from across the country.

“The response was way bigger than I could imagine. It was sad that each one represented a woman’s trauma. It was very triggering for many women but also it’s a collective healing,” said Ghani, an artist and human rights activist.

“We built up a community by making our veils. It was a cathartic experience and many of the women felt it brought closure.”

The red veil, called a duppata, is a powerful symbol in Pakistani culture as they are traditionally worn by women on their wedding day and represent the bride’s sexual purity and honour on the biggest day of her life.

“Every day, people think #MeToo is dead in Pakistan and these duppatas are a visual representation that #MeToo is very much alive.

“People say the duppata is our protection, but the truth is, if a woman is raped, the first thing people ask is what was she wearing. Look at the words on the veil - that shows our bodies beneath the veil are being vandalised.”

For many of the women taking part in the workshops, it is the first time they have spoken about their experiences. Among them was Ayesha, 17. “I wrote about being raped by my grandfather.

“He tried to kiss me so many times. I would keep my lips in my mouth, he would suck them out so they bled. I felt so dirty after. I would spend hours in the shower trying to wash his touch off me. I kept everything bottled up and that trauma became my personality.”

“In our culture, elderly relatives should be honoured and never questioned. Women are always told to stay aware of the outside world. Nobody told me what to do when someone in your own home molests you. That’s why I painted my veil. Even though I can’t tell my family, I can speak out through my veil.”

For Shaista 19, painting her veil was particularly painful as after she gets home from the workshop, she will be going shopping for bridal clothes for the woman marrying her brother – the brother who molested her.

“I was 12 when my older brother first got into bed with me. When he lifted the covers, his voice and demeanour changed so it was like a stranger. I later discovered that he himself had been raped by some older boys at a madrassa (religious school) when he was six.

“It was difficult to process my feelings because in every other way, he was the perfect big brother. I felt sorry for what he went through, but also angry and hurt about what he did to me, yet I still loved him.

“He’s getting married in April and I have to act like the perfect groom’s sister, singing and dancing and smiling while knowing what he did.”

In its fourth year, the Aurat March started off as an informal gathering organised in a local park by women’s rights activists in the port city of Karachi, but has since evolved into a national movement as thousands of women from all backgrounds stand side by side to call for change.

Perhaps it was inevitable that any women led event which challenged the patriarchy would attract a backlash, but last year the level of vitriol took everyone by surprise as the slogan ‘Mere Jism, Meri Maarzi’ (my body, my choice) was seized upon by conservatives who accused the organisers of promoting prostitution and of being financed by the west to undermine the country’s Muslim values.

Ghani and the other organisers faced death threats and marchers were relentlessly harassed on social media and had their placards doctored and spread online.

However, as thousands of women take to the streets across Pakistan, for this year’s Aurat March, it shows that the battle for women’s rights shows no sign of being deterred.

And the women who have been silenced about their #MeToo experiences will finally find a voice, albeit, under the anonymity of red gossamer veil. “The veil will give me back some of my honour after all,” said Ayesha as she lay herduppata out to dry in the sun.

#Mere Jism Meri Maarzi #me too #metoo #terfs please interact #radfems please interact #radfem #radfems do interact #terfs do interact #terf safe #radical feminism #terfs please touch #radfems please touch #Pakistan #Pakistani feminism

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vkelleyart · 5 years ago

Text

For well-meaning white American friends/followers struggling to understand black anger.

Disclaimer: I’d like to begin by saying that this message should not in any way be interpreted as implying that all looting/violence has been committed by protesters, especially since criminal gangs, anarchists, and white power groups have been caught coopting violent protest with the intent to undermine the struggle for racial justice. Nor is it meant to diminish the tragic effect that looting/violent protest has had on the very marginalized communities that need the most help. It is simply a window into a perspective you might not have considered or explored, which I offer in hopes of cultivating empathy.

It may make you uncomfortable to read this. Please bear with me.

Systemic racism is a term you want to get familiar with. It's larger and more insidious than black people being killed and brutalized by law enforcement, which should give you an idea of just how big a beast we're dealing with. Now, this is important: We ALL are immersed in systemic racism every day of our lives and, especially if you are white, you will not be able to see the ways in which you benefit from the oppression of black people.

I can feel your tension from here––the voice within saying “not me.” This is not what you wanted to hear. You're not a racist, you think to yourself. You have friends of color. Maybe family, too. You'd never intentionally harm a black or brown individual on the basis of their skin color.

You're a good person. I'm not here to argue that particular point.

That said, please integrate this concept. If you are white, you are benefiting from systemic racism, which hurts black and brown people. It is sewn into the fabric of our culture. It's entrenched in everything you take for granted, from your property to your education to your access to healthcare and food. Moreover, systemic racism is specifically constructed to protect you from being able to see its effect on your life and the lives of people of color.

In other words, you have a blind spot, by default. It's not your fault you have it. You were born into this culture made to shelter you from its evils.

It also doesn’t invalidate any trials or injustices you have experienced as a result of any other marginalized facets of your identity, since discrimination can also happen due to class, ability, gender, orientation, etc. But it does mean that your skin color doesn’t compound your risk of being killed/brutalized/imprisoned within a definitively racialized justice system.

Now that you know this, it's imperative that you realize you are not an authority on the experiences of people of color. You have not lived it. You do not know. To pass judgment on the despair of black people is to reinstate and protect white dominance. Which is a definitively racist thing to do, even if you’re not aware of it.

Follow me here.

One way systemic racism oppresses people of color is by codifying the law in such a way that literally prevents people of color from overcoming their own oppression. By extension, law enforcement historically has functioned as the arm of white supremacy, enforcing laws that by and large serve to protect white dominance and insulate white culture from its own racial self-awareness.

Consider the ways police once functioned to enforce Jim Crow laws and segregation. These patterns didn't just erase with legislation. After the Civil Rights movement, bigoted lawmakers buried inequality deeper into the law, coated it in sanitized legalese, and assigned punishments designed to disproportionately imprison black bodies compared to whites.

This is the legal system that police enforce regardless of whether the officers themselves are white or black. That alone would be enough to indict law enforcement for their hand in perpetuating systemic racism, but it's clearly worse than that. "Bad apples" abound, with FBI investigations revealing the infiltration of KKK and other white supremacist organizations into police forces across the United States. There is very little leadership when it comes to finding these bad apples, prosecuting them, and preventing their existence in the first place.

Now try to understand that the problem is bigger than bad apples who will brutalize black individuals and execute them without a trial. You need only compare how meek entire swaths of police officers were in the presence of armed white men spitting in their faces demanding the end of the COVID lockdowns to the ferocious way they tear gassed and pelted with rubber bullets the black lives protesters who were on their knees.

When you lack ancestral wealth, when you are born into a world that resists your right to agency, independence, access and dignity in every single possible way, and then makes it impossible for you to stand up for your right to all those things, these are the conditions that spawn violence.

Looters who say this is about more than George Floyd are correct. It's not just about George Floyd. It's about forced subjugation in all ways, shapes and forms, being denied the right to exist in public, being denied access to wealth, prosperity, healthcare, etc.

It's about knowing, hundreds of years post-slavery, that your body still does not belong to you. To walk with a target on your back. Every. Single. Day. To struggle to protect your children from a world that does not value their promise.

In the comfort of your home, try now to imagine the despair. The hopelessness. The abject terror. The anger over trauma that began in your childhood but keeps happening over and over and over again and therefore can never heal.

White people can never fully understand because it is not our lived experience––it's theirs.

When you are white, you are safe, seen, protected, and included in a legal system built to insulate you at the *direct expense* of black individuals. That's why all this sounds so radical. Only people of color have insight into this reality, but instead of listening, we keep telling them to stop interrupting our lives with their desperation to be seen.

How many of you have either said or heard someone say these things? Each one reinstates white dominance:

"How could he kneel during the national anthem? That's so disrespectful!"

"How dare they stop traffic and make me late for work!"

"Listen to that thuggish language! If they want equality so badly, they should rethink the way they talk to us!"

Now is the time to silence your judgment. You have no right. You have no clue. People of color do not owe you their patience, their kindness, their time, or their obedience. You've taken from them your whole life and yes, you were unaware, but you were complicit.

What you can do (which will have the long term effect of mitigating violence) is amplify their voices. Support their businesses. Post their bail. Vote them into office. Use your protection, your privilege, your voice to demand change like YOU are the one in the crosshairs. Nothing will change without good white people owning the struggle for equality, and in a racialized world, we cannot expect the courtesy of being asked nicely.

ETA: This barely scratches the surface, I know. There is so much more to say regarding how racism overlaps with homophobia, ablism, sexism, transphobia, to oppress and endanger black lives. Wherever you reside on the spectrum of privilege, I just hope this provides an inroad to further introspection before you share a critical meme or pass a sweeping judgment on the anger of your POC neighbors. <3

#op-ed #black lives matter #long post #tw: racism

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allteacher · 3 years ago

Text

Eris has been thinking about Oryx.

This is what she tells the Vanguard, but it feels wholly inadequate. She feels half-consumed, again, burying herself in Toland’s letters and in the shorthand notes she’d carved into her armor down in the pit, contrasting her scraps of arcane knowledge with newly-classified Hidden reports of some alien brightness emitting from the depths of the Shrine of Oryx. All the information she has points her unerringly to that same place, that same desolate object in orbit.

She still has not been back to the Moon.

Ikora has not leashed her, but all of her missions have been strictly planetside, no more dangerous than the assignments of civilian intelligence agents. Eris knows this is because she is a civilian, now, no matter what Hunter-instincts still guide her. But she still feels stifled, trapped in the Tower, despite what the other agents whisper about healing and recuperation and trial periods.

Despite the hopes and fears of the Vanguard, she does not want to rush headlong into her final death; there is a reason she directed the Guardian like a blade across the surface of the Moon to hunt Crota’s brood. But something is stirring in the nearest seat of Oryx’s power, and she needs to see it for herself. They must learn more about the King before he sweeps into their little corner of the universe and kills them all.

After Crota there had been scarcely a night to celebrate, to sit quietly with her grief, before her work had continued. She can accept this if she can be of use once again, if she can follow her chain of vengeance up the royal lineage of the Hive until there is nothing left, no trace of the Hive left to burn.

The Guardian comes to retrieve bounties every morning, bringing Eris what scarce information she can find in the field. The Wolves are freshly escaped from their prison, and the Tower is in a frenzy. Crota is dead with his father a million lightyears away. They are of no importance, now.

“You destroyed the Shrine of Oryx,” Eris says over a handful of sticky idols. It is not a question: she has read the after-action report.

“Yes,” the Guardian says, her black hair hanging over her eyes. “Well— we did.” Her voice, always quiet, sinks lower. “I don’t understand why the Speaker had us chasing Osiris’ prophecies, after everything I’ve heard about the exile…” She is still newly-risen, but already she knows the value of a secret.

Eris leans in at that, curious. “Osiris?” There had been no mention of him in any of the mission data, though she can already guess that the Speaker had a hand in this. Few remembered Osiris’ prophecies about the Hive; they did not need reminding of their truth with Oryx hanging on the horizon.

The Guardian leaves shortly after, bond gleaming on her arm, promising to send her a recording of the mission in full. Eris suspects she has all the information she needs. There is, at least, one person she can trust as a traveling-partner.

She needs to get to the Shrine. The Vanguard are still fighting among themselves as to Oryx’s existence and importance, the Speaker furtively seeking information from the same man he exiled, so Eris considers her mission a Hidden matter. She sends Ikora a message and departs before she can ask too many questions.

It is still early enough in the day, so she takes her ship out of the hangar and flies it into the wilderness, somewhere she can sit without being bothered by any well-meaning Guardians passing by. She adjusts her radio until she finds the channel spitting out static cut through with the trill of a harpy. She hears numbers occasionally, two two seven…

Eris waits, but she is used to it. Eventually the static cuts, the harpy-song violently ended.

“Osiris,” comes the voice on the other end, brisk, like he’s still Vanguard Commander, fielding calls. As if anyone else could be on the other end, as if anyone else could be reaching out through the heavy curtain of exile to seek him out.

“Eris Morn,” she replies, then, “I have news of Oryx.” She is still newly-returned, still refiguring herself in the wake of her own personal catastrophe. Talking to Osiris is at least easier, because he leaves no space for anything but what is necessary.

She thinks maybe he has forgotten how to do anything but question, too, in an exile less excruciating but no less lonely. Here they both are, grasping at the edges of something.

“Oh!” Sagira gasps on the other end of the line, excited. Something in Eris, at the very back of her mind, shutters— not completely alone, she forgets. The emptiness over her shoulder aches in tandem with the ever-present burning in her eyes. Some things will always be only her burden to bear.

“Yes,” Eris says, pushing forward despite the feeling, because that is what she does. “The Shrine is awake again.” She suspects he already knows, may be watching it even now. “I want to know what we can learn from it.”

She knows they will find something. She also knows that there is more to this bone-deep desire for shared action, when she has been alone in her hunt since she and Eriana and the rest first sought Crota’s realm and died in the seeking. She is certain she would die before telling anyone. Some gnawing uncertainty of what may happen to her if she was completely, devastatingly alone in those tunnels again. All that blank terror and wordless desperation, still hiding somewhere in her mind.

Eris knows she is not mad, regardless of the whispers from the young Guardians burning shockingly bright. But her wounds are still seeping, not six months since she crawled out of the Moon. She still has nightmares of finding bodies in the dust, of being stripped of her Light, of being split open that first horrific night of the Great Disaster. These, she suspects, will never stop.

The thought makes Eris feel ridiculous, like a child that cannot take care of herself. But for this, for the fate of humanity, she is willing to submit to her own self-doubt. There is work yet to be done.

“The Shrine!” Sagira squawks over the line. “I told you it wouldn’t stay closed forever! That Guardian, what, shot at it? Eris, we’ll meet you in orbit. The signal!”

Osiris sighs, irritated. “Yes, we will. Bring any information you have.” The line cuts. Because no one can see her, Eris allows herself to think of Brya.

—

Sagira transmats Eris aboard their ship once she arrives. It is remarkable how utterly alien it appears, as if the Vex had terraformed it from the inside out. She has met with them a few times, in the search for Crota’s court, but never anywhere Eris could begin to grasp the full scope of Osiris’ obsession.

Osiris huffs something at her by way of greeting, splitting his attention between a terminal screen and an ancient book. Eris occupies herself with spreading her materials out on a little card table, conspicuous, next to the navigation controls: scrolls, notes and their translations, runes, her Ahamkara joint.

After a few minutes Osiris stands, tips his head toward her. “Toland’s things?” He asks, moving to sort through the Hive-lore Eris has managed to accumulate.

“Some of it,” she says, reaching for the book Osiris had been examining. It’s one she’s never seen before, a rambling theory about Hive communication logics. She digs through it in silence while Osiris and Sagira examine her own theories, Sagira occasionally making comments as she draws comparisons.

Eris tries to keep herself from growing too comfortable, too complacent, but in the dim light and the ship’s low static hum she finds it far easier to think. Especially in comparison to her place in the Tower, where even in the shadows she feels exposed, on display.

In time they go down to the surface of the Moon, the harsh architecture of the Hive looming over their heads. Eris expects herself to be more nervous, some paranoia still buzzing in her skull. Now, though, there’s only a sort of anticipation. Clarity in action, just as it had been hunting Crota.

Osiris enters the underground first, Sagira buzzing around his head. There are a few Thrall lingering around the moldering stonework of the entrance, all neatly dispatched.

“What do you expect?” Eris asks as they make their way down the long corridor to the entrance of the Gatehouse. It’s suspiciously empty, no acolytes making their rounds, no thrall kicking up rocks to search for worms.

“If the shrine is active again, it’s worth protecting,” Osiris says, stopping at the edge of the harsh cliff-face to glance at the stars above, the darkness below. “It would explain the lack of Hive on the surface levels.”

They continue, cautious, Eris stepping lightly enough that she doesn’t break the bones littered across the steps. There’s nothing as they creep ever downward, as the yellow glare of the lamps turns to the icy blue-green of the Circle of Bones.

Eris remembers such names from her first journey to the Moon, from when she and her fireteam were first racing screaming through these corridors. She wonders if they were translated or if Toland had made them up as he saw fit.

She almost startles as she sees a lone acolyte peering off its balcony, though she throws her dagger at it before Osiris can move to kill it himself. It drops silently; she goes to observe it, crouching down to retrieve her knife. The motion makes her knees ache.

Osiris comes up behind her, nudges its cleaved skull with his boot. “Not so graceful as the Vex,” he comments.

“But much more ravenous.” It has been months since she has killed any Hive, she realizes. In the tunnels, again, she feels almost as if she’d never left.

“The Vex devour entire planets without thought. They are less visceral, but no less dangerous.”

Eris stands, looks out into the dark hallways of the Hive to ensure they are not being ambushed. “And yet you live among them willingly.”

“Not so willingly as one may think,” he says, and then he’s moving again, trailing sparks, leading them both.

Some part of her wants to know what keeps him there, if it is anything like what draws her back to the Moon, again, after so much death and pain. But he has not questioned her motives, has not pitied her. She will not seek information she would not give.

The great tunnels of the Hall of Wisdom echo as they move through them, the sound distorting as it passes down the lengths of not-quite-stone. The answering echo sounds like something screaming.

When the shrine-room opens up around them, Eris expects something grandiose in its terror. But there is no immense shadow of Oryx looking down on them, only the simple cruelties of the Hive’s existence.

At the base of the shrine is a small coven of Wizards, all hovering above a lovingly-drawn spell circle. A half-dead Ogre, larger than any Eris had seen in the pits, lays bleeding oil within it. The room is, Eris notices, completely silent. The animal part of her brain, the part that kept her alive in the tunnels, wants her to run until she can see the stars again.

She drops to a crouch, scrabbling backwards to hide more fully in the empty tunnel. Osiris’ ambient Light goes out like a match as he joins her, surveying the ritual around a jut of stone. He looks at her, head tilted, a question. She shakes her head, presses herself flat against the wall.

After a moment, the chanting starts.

It’s not the overwhelming scream of the Deathsingers, but Eris wants to scream back, to chant the names of her fireteam again, to not lose herself in the dark. She grips the handle of her knife hard enough that her hand goes numb.

The wizards sing in turns, the shrine moving under the will of their voices. The ogre shudders as it dies, the circle glowing a sickly green underneath its hulking form.

Eventually, the wizards go quiet. Osiris reaches back against Eris’ shoulder, taps in Hidden shorthand: first opening wait for transmission. She doesn’t dare to move, to acknowledge.

They wait for a few minutes, still and silent in the half-dark of the tunnels. Then the great orb begins spinning, a low drone filling all the gaps in the room.

“Oryx,” Eris whispers, listening to the discordant hum and, through it, the great deep voice of the king of the Hive.

—

They spend the next four hours translating the message. The bulk is an edict on the new chain of tithes, now that Crota is dead.

The ending, though, is what she at once expected and feared: a declaration that Crota’s death will be avenged.

“We knew he would come,” Eris says, trying to stay composed. All the blood Crota spilled, a newborn in the eyes of the Hive, and now his father coming to rain devastation. “I’ve warned the Vanguard.”

Osiris scratches something out on the pad in front of him. “The Vanguard never listens in time. You know that.” It would be barbed, coming from anyone else.

“We have proof now. That might convince them that we are right.” She sighs. She had not expected to feel so drained, so completely bloodless, after such a short journey. “They are still focused on eliminating the rest of Crota’s brood, the Wolves. It will be a struggle.”

“This is not a battle that can be won alone. The Vanguard cannot ignore the Darkness to chase Fallen forever.”

“We may not need to fight alone,” Eris says. “The Queen of the Reef has opened their gates.”

Osiris snorts. “If you think she will listen.”

“Oryx is not just a threat to Earth,” she replies, too exhausted to bristle. She is learning the shape of Osiris’ knowledge, which lies in his challenges. “And we do not know where their knowledge lies. They may yet be able to help us.”

“It is an idea worth pursuing,” Osiris replies after a long few moments, “but it will be difficult to achieve an audience. First we must prepare.”

Eris has been preparing for disaster for as long as she can remember, has spent years guarding against some future ruin. She knows the shape of it, what is at stake if they fail.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches Osiris card through Hive dictionaries and Eriana’s blood-stained research notes. She had given everything to make it out of the Hellmouth, had become something monstrous to carry her warning back to the City, had destroyed Crota through the stares and the whispers and the doubt.

But she is out of the Hellmouth, now. The City may not trust her, but she has allies beyond its walls, those that can understand this drive to step into the Dark to understand it, destroy it so completely that there is no memory of it left. She will not live to see the end of this war, but the mantle of her vengeance will.

“Tell me about the Vex,” Eris says, arranging her own papers. It is only fair to take on this mantle in turn.

#destiny the game #eris morn #osiris #my fic #tumblr stop eating my posts

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pi-cat000 · 3 years ago

Text

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (4)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters: Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START / PREV / NEXT

Doctor Wada makes an unscheduled appearance the same morning. Kakashi has the doctor’s schedule memorised and knows the man usually spends his first work hour in his office before checking in with various patients. The change is not unexpected.

“Ms Iori finished her rounds, marked everything as normal and handed the ward off without incident.” Wada and one of the floor’s morning shift nurses talk, voices lowered, too quiet for a regular person to pick up.

“It was called in around 4:15 am. We confirmed it as a burst blood vessel behind his quirked-eye, but we don’t know what triggered it. Without examining the eye itself it is hard to draw any definite conclusions. Since we don’t know what his quirk does, we didn’t want to risk staff safety without a specialist on hand.”

“Nothing else? No other symptoms?” Wada asks.

“No external bleeding. No signs of irritation around the eye socket. Clear, coherent verbal responses from the patient. Vitals are stable. The dressings on the eye were changed yesterday, and nothing was flagged then either.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Depressed at the thought of what amounted to a forced long-term infiltration mission, Kakashi’s attention drifts away from the hushed conversation. Kakashi has never been assigned to any extended infiltrations. Long, tedious things that they were. Jōnin were usually too valuable to waste on them. Even before he had made jōnin, his skillset lent itself to tracking, assassination, ambush and one on one combat not undercover assignments. It was just his luck -or maybe it was karma-that he had been shunted into one. Three years of ‘mingling’ amongst these soft-acting civilians, waiting to build enough chakra for an attempt at a technique he wasn’t even sure would work. It was enough to make even the most battle-hardened shinobi depressed.

Maybe he should run off and hide somewhere. He would skulk around for three years avoiding the locals. Less of a hassle that way. Kakashi lets out a weary breath.

“See if you can bump up that MRI. We need to make sure this isn’t anything serious,” Wada’s voice breaks through his musing as the doctor starts in the direction of Kakashi’s bed. The nurse he is talking with nods and leaves.

“Well, you have certainly had an eventful night,” Wada greats when he draws near, leaning in to visually scan Kakashi, “Let’s see what we have going on. Can you close your left eye for me so I can unwrap it?”

He habitually pushes down his natural discomfort at having a stranger close to his sharingan as the doctor reaches to tilt Kakashi’s head to the side for better access. If he was going to be stuck here then he should maintain his complacent, harmless persona. At least, until he leaves the hospital. Besides, if they had wanted to hurt him, they would have done it while he was unconscious.

“No swelling around your quirked-eye and the bleeding has stopped, that’s a good sign. We’ll run a few tests and get to bottom of this, not to worry.”

“Yeah. About that,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head to look sheepish and apologetic, “I might have tested out my, eh, quirk. You know…I wanted to see what it would do…”

There is a beat of silence, the older man drawing away, too surprised to respond.

“I think it lets me memorise things it sees?” Kakashi continues. Even if he wasn’t 100% sure about what he would do next, he is not about to abandon his shaky amnesia cover story.

“Of all the reckless, irresponsible decisions!” the doctor snaps out of his surprise moving straight into anger, “I expressly told you to wait and not to mess with it. You had no idea what sort of quirk it was! What if you had injured someone or yourself.” The concern seems pretty genuine and Kakashi almost feels bad for manipulating him.

“Young people these days…honestly. No patience.”

Young? It had been a while since anyone has called him that. Kakashi is practically ancient by shinobi standards. The response prompts a semi mournful, almost amused sigh from him, “I know, I know. I just wanted some sort of clue as to how I got here.”

The doctor takes a frustrated breath, calming “Yes. I know it’s frustrating, being restless and hold up in this bed for three straight weeks, but there is a procedure to these things. You got lucky that the only side effect was a burst blood vessel. Next time you want to test your quirk we’ll make sure it is in a controlled environment with an expert on hand. I don’t care if you have some sort of passive regeneration, quirks can be dangerous. The hospital has offsite testing facilities for a reason.”

“Yes. I understand. I won’t do it again,” he says dutifully and gets a huff of disbelief and a head shake.

“You better not.”

A pause.

“So.”

“So?” Kakashi raises a brow.

“So what did you discover? Explain it to me again.” Wada motions, impatient, repositioning a nearby chair so he can sit comfortably beside the bed.

“It lets me remember things…” Kakashi had given a lot of thought to what he wanted his fake ‘quirk’ to do without giving too much away, “I’m pretty sure I remember anything it looks at perfectly.”

A somewhat true explanation, in that recoding information and prefect recall was one facet of the sharingan; a side effect of its primary function which was to copy ninjustu and taijustu. The explanation also played into the diagnosis Wada had already written into his medical files, making it more believable.

“Then, lucky for you, something good came of your reckless behaviour.”

Kakashi just smiles which elicits the beginnings of another lecture. “Not that you should ever take quirk safety lightly. Quirk licenses exist for a reason. People can’t go about throwing their quirks around willynilly. A licence, I might add, that you don’t have.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

After witnessing several televised reports on police arresting people for quirk misuse Kakashi knows the people here, for whatever reason, are leery when it comes to using their abilities. To the point where they actively outlaw it. He is banking on Wada being sympathetic enough not to push the matter.

Wada sighs again, “I’ll write it up as accidental use this time. Now. If your quirk lets you remember everything perfectly then what about your past memories. Any change on that front?”

“No. Still gone.”

“I see. That might mean the part of the brain linked to its memorisation function was damaged, disrupting the memories stored by the quirk,” Wada rubs his chin thoughtfully, “We’ll have to run a few more tests…a lot easier now that we know what it does I suppose.” Good. That was the conclusion he wanted Wada to come to.

“Alright, before we get to testing, were there any other side effects. Aches, pains, fatigue?”

Even as the man asks, he is pulling out a familiar penlight to shine in Kakashi’s regular eye.

“No. Nothing.”

What follows is his standard check-up routine. His vitals are recorded, his head checked over, the area around his sharingan examined thoroughly. Again. Well, as thoroughly as it could be examined without uncovering it. Next is an inspection of the chest wound he now knows is from Obito alongside a glance over his shoulder, arm and leg. Wada nods to himself as he goes, signalling that all is well.

“Your blood pressure is a little high for my liking. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep much last night what with how you were messing around with your quirk. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Wada instructs as he fits Kakashi with a padded eyepatch instead of the usual wrap of bandages. He pauses to wait for a nod of confirmation.

“I will,” he blatantly lies. Kakashi hasn’t had a proper night sleep since waking up the first time, dozing for shortened intervals only. With so many squishy doctors around he doesn’t want to accidently hurt one of them should he be woken from a nightmare. It did put additional strain on his body.

Doctor Wada peers at him, “We’ll give you another week of monitoring then get some authorised quirk testing done. A brain scan as well. Depending on what we find, we’ll see what we can do about getting you a diagnosis and then discharged.”

“Hmm,” he answers, noncommittally. Not like he has anywhere else to go until then. If this were Konoha, he would have taken off long before now and seen to his remaining injuries alone. This would be the first time in a long while that he is waiting for an official discharge.

Guess he would be finding out how the hospital dealt with amnesiac patients after they healed. In Konoha, a displaced citizen would be given a menial labour job as part of the village’s many reconstruction projects and sent on their way. But this wasn’t Konoha and he should really stop with the comparisons.

He needs to decide what he wants to do: Take off, find somewhere secluded and wait the years out. Or hang around to try and salvage the situation. This world did have a lot of interesting technology so there might be value in getting a better feel for the society here. Maybe he would find something useful to take back as an apology for abandoning everyone…

What a mess this all was.

...

The following week has Kakashi splitting his time between gathering supplies for a chakra storage seal and reading through Wada’s patient files to get a sense for his upcoming quirk tests and ‘brain-scan.’

He also takes the time to read through everything else Wada has in his office - mainly medical journals - to better understand the biological differences inherent in a place without chakra. Primarily, the people were physically weaker. However, there were a lot of mutations or ‘secondary quirk factors’ which reinforced the body to better deal with the stress of the primary quirk. All interesting and potentially relevant information to remember when he got into fights. Once he knew a person’s quirk he would be able to guess how their body was reinforced and act accordingly. A fire quirk would make someone naturally heat resistant but not impact resistant, is what Kakashi concludes as he re-reads the profile of current number two hero ‘Endeavour.’ The magazines gifted to him by Iori all contain a statistical breakdown of the top 10 heroes, their strengths, weaknesses, and their criminal apprehension and crime prevention rates. It is a list that rarely changes between issues. He commits it all to memory, idly planning out combat strategies that didn’t involve obvious ninjutsu or chakra use. It helps pass the time when he is not trying to make sense of what he sees on television or stalking various people around the hospital.

At the end of the week, he steals Wada’s fountain pen, adding it to his growing pen hoard which he stashes in a vent on the roof. The storage seal he wants to make is complex and would need ink to complete. A mix between a chakra-draining-seal-trap and a storage scroll, it is well on its way to completion.

The seal would drain his chakra at a consistent and manageable rate, store it efficiently, and give him a way to turn the chakra drain off and on at will. Also, as a precaution, he includes an emergency stop in case his chakra levels became dangerously low, so it didn’t accidentally kill him if he fell unconscious.

The seal would need to be positioned somewhere on his body in a spot where the doctors wouldn’t immediately notice. He doesn’t what to explain why he suddenly has a tattoo. If he had had access to properly made fūinjutsu ink, the seal would be invisible. Alas, he would have to make do with chakra-infused pen ink.

Kakashi manages to keep himself busy enough that he expertly avoids making any concrete decision on what he wants to do with the next three years.

Note: this is slowly turning into a medical drama

#bnha #naruto #CrossOver #my hero academia #hatake kakashi #kakashi headcanons #dimension travel AU #fanfiction #world building #culture shock

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