#mahia

[thechaoticcform-archive]

“ Why am I here? ”

@rubiesintherough

"You are in the Summer Kingdom, lady." Oberon smiled and lead the woman deeper into the garden. "I heard you were a healer, we could use one like you in the council."

[inkymink]

Cliffs and waves. Near Kaiuku Marae, Māhia, Aotearoa. 13 Oct 2022.

[jeanhm]

[rubiesintherough]

‘Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep again?’ (Morgan to Mahia)

@painofhumanity

" Please... "

Murmured out in quivering breath. Gaze not lifting from her dagger in scarred palm, engravings traced by trembling thumb... the weight of it the only material thing helping to keep her calm. That, and his presence. At least here, when the nightmares came --- as they always did --- she wasn't alone when she bolted awake, panicked and shaking. Wasn't alone.

" If... you do not mind... "

She doubted she would sleep, again, this night. But, just to have him there, beside her, she still needed... as her heart finally began to slow from its frantic pace, and muscles uncoiled from a fight not coming. As the terror faded.

" Please, stay? "

[halofcrged]

@rubiesintherough mahia sent a meme.

[ DISCOVER ]  for sender to see receiver’s scars for the first time

Even you can't kill what's already dead. He'd had to remind himself of that fact repeatedly in the course of the last day or two as he'd done what he could to help nurse the young woman back to a state the might resemble normal. Healthy. Not stick and bones. The jumpiness, the trembling, that he couldn't fix, couldn't help, couldn't soothe, that would take time, and treatment, and counseling. Things that he couldn't give her -- but he'd still found himself reluctant to turn his Condor back towards the heart of UNSC territory. He'd considered contacting Miranda Keyes to see if she could set up some kind of safe place for the woman - he was more inclined to believe that Miranda would keep her safe than Halsey would have, but he'd held off. With Ackerson and Parangosky inserting themselves more and more into the Spartans' business, what small sense of control that John had about his fate and his fellow Spartan's fate grew slimmer with each passing day.

He wasn't particularly inclined to hand over someone as fragile as his passenger over to them. So, he lurked, skating the fine line between running over mission time and awol. Cortana had been playing hopscotch with their signal to keep ONI off their back and he'd done his best to keep himself busy by putting in additional time into his training in the hi grav gym, needing a way to expel the pent up energy and frustration, and he was heading towards the restroom to grab a shower, stripping off the damp shirt to chuck into the wash when he heard her, the distinct whisper of the rub of feathers against feathers that accompanied her light steps. "Do you need something? -- Did I wake you?"

[factiousfcrged]

@rubiesintherough / mahia sent a meme.

( clean ) : sender washes blood of off receiver

"You don't have to do that." It wasn't that he was ashamed of the blood. His blood. Their blood. It was hard to figure whose was whose after a certain point. But whoever's blood it was, it shouldn't be on her hands, in any sense of the words. She didn't approve. He knew that. But it wasn't the first time. And it wouldn't be the last time. If they wanted her, they'd get her over his dead body and a mountain of theirs.

[whileiamdying]

Review: ‘A Tale of Love and Desire’ a rich, if jumbled, look at a young Algerian in Paris

BY CARLOS AGUILAR MARCH 10, 2022 7 AM PT

Erotic verses from ancient Arab poetry enrapture a painfully inhibited young man in the sensual coming-of-age drama “A Tale of Love and Desire” from Tunisian director Leyla Bouzid. Insecurity plagues Ahmed (Sami Outalbali), the 18-year-old son of Algerian refugees studying literature at the famed Sorbonne in Paris. There, he falls for Farah (Zbeida Belhajamor), an open-minded girl from Tunis who challenges his sexist hypocrisy.

In touch with her own carnal desires, Farah repeatedly tries to free Ahmed from the emotional blockage imposed by patriarchal norms. Bouzid makes the case that before religious restrictions maligned hedonism, Arab art and philosophy advocated for physical pleasure.

But despite having connected with words that exalt romantic lust, Ahmed still sees sex as an impure act that taints love and not as a manifestation of it. In the disenfranchisement he feels from his heritage, there’s something lost about himself that‘s replaced with an opaqueness of spirit and a defeated demeanor.

Ahmed’s personal struggles mimic the oppression in Algeria and throughout the Arab world. While scenes at home broaden this context, showing his uprooted father’s influence on him, the intermingling of all these ideas lacks strong cohesion. There are lyrical touches in the form of dance and magical realist inserts that act as a visual escape valve for the pressure that builds from the protagonist’s overwhelming uneasiness.

Throughout, we share in Farah’s frustration, as Ahmed’s behavior suffocates the film, exponentially raising the necessity for a narrative catharsis. And in that regard, the director’s intent is effective, given that she waits until the very end to provide this release. Outalbali’s apprehensively quiet portrayal of this repressed individual, out of touch with his Algerian identity, feels deliberately one-noted until a liberating turning point.

Intellectually rich even if jumbled, “Tale” plays like a spiritual continuation of Bouzid’s 2015 debut, “As I Open My Eyes,” in the prominence of Arab music, its political undertones related to the Arab Spring, and because it also focuses on a defiant young woman named Farah with vaguely similar characteristics. Both pieces convey a yearning for an individual and collective freedom that begins with control over one’s own body as a means of expression.

‘A Tale of Love and Desire ’ In French and Arabic with English subtitles Not Rated Running time: 1 hour, 42 minutes

[laviexenrose]

send in " take it easy. you're safe now, but you need to relax. " for the sender to greet a waking receiver after having found them badly wounded and on the brink of collapse at their doorstep.

Isabelle came to, gasping softly. At once, she checked the gunshot wound to her flank. Though her tank top was stained with her own blood, there wasn’t any trace of the injury on her body. Her eyes widened in shock as she examined her other side, even if she already knew that it wasn’t where she’d been shot. There was nothing, nothing at all. Not a single scratch. And then, she recalled the angelic face which had seemingly appeared from thin air, with a comforting voice that reminded her of a mother’s tenderness towards her child...You’re safe now. But even if she was safe, that didn’t explain how the wound had magically healed itself. Isabelle didn’t have the slightest idea where she was, save for what evidently was a small cabin in the woods. Hesitantly, she rose to her feet from the bed and made her way towards the door, slowly walking out. “H-Hello?” she called out, unsure if anyone was there to answer back, straining her voice to be loud and clear. @rubiesintherough​

[radicalrascals]

@rubiesintherough asked:

❛  are you bleeding?  ❜ ( mahia / muse of choice )

"It's not exclusively my bl-," Tom bit his tongue and shook his head slowly, feeling his achy brain throbbing inside his skull with every movement. "Yeah. Just a little disagreement. You should see the other guy." She absolutely should not. Nobody should. Nobody would, hopefully, in the next couple of days.

The merc let out a pained groan as he sat down. "Who am I kidding? They really fucked me up. You don't happen to have an aspirin, do you?"

[thechaoticcform-archive]

" What do you want? "

@rubiesintherough

The dragon's eyes bulged as he watched the girl from his throne. "I want power, birdy," he cackled, "I am not the god I once was. The mortals depowered me, put me in a box. Now I cannot escape my humanoid prison."

[worldchampionpeccobagnaia]

why are they showing me the loser lucas mahias when they could be showing me bahattin

[42bakery]

That dirty track moment was a bit dangerous. I thought he was going to crash

[quietresistance]

( ❛ it is not about wanting or not wanting. ❜ ( mahia ) ) ╲ @rubiesintherough

                      ❝  is it?  ❞     nothing pressing laid behind her tone, just the simple question.   a side glance, filled with knowing, tripped in the other woman’s direction.     ❝  i only mean in the same way we can tell ourselves and others that, but really, at the end of it, we do care which it is.  ❞     how many of those crossroads she had stood at, professing to others nearly the same lines as she deeply felt the opposite.

                      ❝  you don’t have to tell me but think about it.  ❞

[painofhumanity]

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses. would it be ok to request one for each of our ships pretty pls?

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses.

Jack x Lusca: When Lusca gets Jack comfortable talking to him, Jack still doesn't talk much to or in front of anyone else. He does, however, start talking and even singing in his sleep. It's often unintelligible, but even when it's clear, it's usually just nonsense. Much like hearing Jack talk, it's something that only Lusca gets to hear.

Felicity x Aedus: Between Felicity's hatred for cold weather/being cold, and how touch starved she is, and how warm and loving Aedus is, there's an awful lot of cuddling. Aedus often lets Felicity initiate it because, touch-starved or not, she can have trouble accepting touch when she's not ready for it. Felicity knows he's always willing to give her that affection, though, so she's never shy about cuddling up to him when she needs it.

Maggie x Amara: Because they both have a connection to the dead, Amara is one of the few people Maggie feels comfortable seeing her talk to ghosts. She doesn't feel like she has to hide anything, or downplay her mediumship. It's a special kind of comfort she never expected to feel with anyone after Nana Nola died.

Morgan x Mahia: They're both traumatized and touch-starved. When they get comfortable with each other, there's a whole lot of casual touches between them. Holding hands, brushing against the other's arm, a hand rested on the back, or cupping the cheek. Just. So many soft little touches that they never got from anyone else.

Morgan x Nathan: Morgan doesn't understand why Nathan worries about him--they literally met when he came back from the dead--but it's the reason he keeps seeking the man out in the beginning. Because it's been such a long time since anyone actually gave a damn about what happened to him, and even if he doesn't understand it, he finds comfort in it. Morgan always dismisses Nathan's worry and fussing. . .but he quietly basks in it, too.

[rubiesintherough]

meme call for   MAHIA .  just   poke the heart   and i’ll send her your way with some memes.  if also a multi, pls lemme know which of your muses you want the memes for, otherwise i’ll leave them open-ended for you to pick! 

here’s a link to more INFO about her.    here’s a link to her OPENS

[halofcrged]

@rubiesintherough mahia sent a meme.

send me   ‘ imprisoned ‘   for your muse to find mine locked up in a cage or cell

Chasing pirates didn't typically fall under Spartan purview - there were much bigger fish to fry with the Covenant's constant push further and further into UNSC territories but John had felt compelled to take a special interest in this particular ship after they'd decided their best option was to open fire on his Prowler when all he'd been wanting to do was make his jump to slipstream and return to the fleet. His initial reaction had been to simply blast them out of the sky, but he'd held his hand, opting for a few carefully placed shots that Cortana had emitted to cripple it. If they'd been desperate enough to fire on a UNSC ship than just flee, or hide, it had made him think there might be a particular reason for it. Stolen UNSC goods, perhaps, had been his first thought, but what he had found instead left him somewhat baffled -- which wasn't a common occurrence.

The firefight had been relatively brief. Their weapons and piece meal armor had stood no chance against his MJOLNIR armor. He'd left a few of them alive and trussed up in case he needed to question any of them about what they were carrying or where they were heading before their chance encounter. He was beginning to regret that. Fortunately, it wouldn't be a difficult mistake to correct.

The figure that huddled in the corner of the cell was ... unique. He couldn't make out much of her features, only a slender, petite form that huddled beneath the dark, trembling wings as an attempt to shield her from harm. One swift tug against the bars of the cell crumpled the lock and swung the door open as he analyzed what information his suit could offer him on his heads up display of the figure. Sporadic, weak life signs. Seemingly human.

He hesitated only briefly before reaching up to detach his helmet from the rest of his armor, bending down to one knee at the entrance to the cage - it was the best that he could do to make himself seem less ominous. "Master Chief John 117, of the UNSC, ma'am, I'm here to help."