#rotating heroes axis

[owleanders]

i love you fire lesbian i love you enemy to lover lesbian i love you died and came back wrong lesbian i love you !!!!

[katiefratie]

I kinda really like Oulie already dragonborn paladin with wings sometimes who cares about his shitty crew mates? Yeah dude yeah sign me up

[handoverthekawaii]

We Go Together | Homelander x You | Chapter 28 [FINAL CHAPTER]

Taglist: @theaudacitytowrite @hom3landr

Secluded from the wailing sirens and panicked screams on the street below, the Analytics Department control room in Vought Tower has fallen eerily silent. Shoulder to shoulder with the rank-and-file techs, Translucent and Lamplighter focus all their attention on the control room’s largest screen, where footage from a U.S. fighter jet is broadcasting live.

The camera jerks around wildly in the high-altitude winds, but Viridi Aurora’s aircraft remains clearly visible in the frame. And Homelander should arrive any second now…

“There he is!” one of the technicians shouts, pointing to a tiny caped figure shooting into frame from below.

Everyone leans in closer as the figure closes distance with the plane. The tension in the room is so thick it could be cut with a blade. Lamplighter grips his lamp staff tightly, knuckles white, and Translucent whispers, “Come on, come on, come on…”

What happens next is difficult to discern from the camera’s grainy feed, but the group sees Homelander hurtle toward the plane at incredible speed. The plane and the Supe collide, but there’s no visible fire or explosion — instead, impossibly, the aircraft seems to slow down and begin rotating horizontally on its axis.

The rotation gets faster until the plane has made a full 360-degree turn, then another. On the third spin, suddenly, the aircraft shoots up and away from where Homelander hovers in midair. As the plane careens out of sight, the truth of the matter becomes clear — America’s hero wound up and threw the craft into the upper atmosphere with all the grace of an Olympic shot putter.

After another beat of silence, Lamplighter shouts, “FUCK YEAH!”

And the room erupts into raucous whoops and cheers, the reality sinking in that the ecoterrorists’ plot has been foiled. The shift boss weeps into a colleague’s arms as Translucent and Lamplighter high-five, then embrace one another in sheer relief. There will be no bio-attack on New York City today.

Meanwhile, thirty-thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean, a detachment of fighter jets streaks through the sky in pursuit of the out-of-control cargo plane. John threw the aircraft with such force that it should end up in low-Earth orbit, which will buy enough time for the global space powers to determine how best to neutralize its cargo.

But John cares little for the fate of the aircraft right now. Instead, his attention is fully consumed with your limp form held in his arms. The force of the collision appears to have knocked you unconscious, or worse… but John can’t think about that.

He won’t think about that.

Trying not to panic, the Supe lowers his mouth to your ear and says, “Come on, Y/N. Wake up.”

[continued on AO3]

[weirdmageddon]

i still think link botw/totk would be a knight of space. breath comes sort of close but hes also a bit too dutiful to everyone as a community, but not in a karkat knight of blood way; the breath/blood axis isn’t what he’s bound to. he’s definitely on the space/time axis. you look at me and tell me this isnt link. link protecting people through space and protecting space (and time gets involved as well…..which could signify a connection to space/time aspects. but his arcs, where he is most in his element and zone, are more involved with the present, while zelda’s is more involved with the past and future)

bularia tells link that he has a “flair for the absurd” after talking about fusing a mushroom to a spear, a wink to creative players who made the world their sandbox back in botw and inspired the totk creative team with their magnesis minecart flying machines. but this also means “flair for the absurd” this is part of link’s canon character attributes

(x)

ever look at your hero’s path mode on the map? doesn’t this description seem familiar? what totk did was give the sandbox plenty of toys, and made it somehow even more obvious with the green-colored power motif. the free rotation of objects on three axes and the abillity to glue them to other objects in any way and detach them at will. the ability to fuse weapons and objects to weapons, exploiting space / “creation” literally as a weapon. oh yeah and straight up ascending vertically through solid objects

about the knight, link’s functional relation to this aspect, should be obvious and fits the boy like a glove:

the funny thing is that the zonai secret stones are kind of like aspects in of themselves arent they?

the aspects of the secret stones are more physical than conceptual. wind, water, fire, lightning. and then spirit for some reason but that would be kind of close to heart aspect (self)….minus the conceptual side. wind is also sort of analogous to breath but minus the conceptual side of breath, just literally windy thing.

time is time. i wonder if there are “different” time users, because all we’ve seen so far is one ability: recall, used by sonia and given to link, is sending an object’s path back in time at the small scale. or when more powerful capable of sending the object as it is now back in time outside of itself like zelda did, so instead of zelda sending herself back to when she was conceived over 100 years ago as a zygote, she accidentally sent herself back to like the equivalent of caveman times in real years but she is still the same chronological age as she was right before.

anyway but there’s only like, two classes we know: sages and kings. rauru is a king of light. oh yeah there’s a light secret stone power also. light in zelda seems to be analogous to hope in homestuck though in that its a upheavel darkness/“rage” opposed power

ganondorf’s aspect is totally rage dont even talk to me

the sativa edible is kicking in as i write this

[argentaur]

Prompt: Auror

Remus didn’t know that Sirius had stayed the axis around which his lived universe rotated, he thought he had put him out of his mind the moment he’d been locked away in Azkaban, the moment grief had washed away the rose-colored past down to a scraped rawness.

But Earth would keep turning around its axis even with him losing track of the hours of the day, and it would keep orbiting the Sun even as the years blurred together, and the stars would keep circling Polaris even when he turned his eyes from the starlit sky; the world wouldn’t suddenly cease to exist the exact same way he’d known it for over two decades priorly just because he’d stopped looking at it.

And so, Sirius remained his pole, his axis, followed him like a zenith or a satellite, or perhaps it was Remus who was the satellite and Sirius his center point, and just because it took him twelve years to circle back, it didn’t make him any less the barycenter between Remus’ heart and soul and mind.

Twelve years had passed and, he reasoned, there was no sense in lingering on a dream that had been, and that had been dashed so viciously.

And yet the knowledge that Sirius had escaped Azkaban made him feel disoriented. Sirius hadn’t been part of his life for well over a decade, and still, the news left him feeling as though the sun had been robbed off the sky, as though someone had turned off all the stars in the night. He was a boat adrift at sea, once anchored but the chain had snapped, and now he was subject to the tides.

And the tides, they pulled, and he was drawn to a distant point beyond the horizon.

At this moment, Aurors were poking all around England to investigate Sirius’ whereabouts, and a part in Remus scoffed, they’re predators lacking eyes and nose and ears, none of them would know him the way he did. And then guilt pricked at his conscience because their lack of direction was down to the information he continued to keep secret.

Remus didn’t know if he envied or fretted over the Auror teams chasing Sirius, if he wanted to be in their place looking for his old friend, facing him, confronting him, catching him. To see him again. Or was it that he wanted to chase them away, that his anxiety stemmed from the same panic that had doused his childish admiration of clever detectives and righteous investigators. He used to dream of joining his father on his journeys, looking for Boggarts and helping the unsuspecting person, forging fated encounters as his parents had.  

That was, up until the reality of law enforcement taking down the odd and nonconforming, the other, had caught up to him, and then Aurors were no longer heroes chasing the imprecise concept of bad men, but the law-written definition of criminals. And it had made him scared.

The thought of Aurors being on the hunt for Sirius, herding him, cornering him, making an attempt on him, it disquieted him greatly. And Remus shouldn’t care, he shouldn’t sympathize, and still a primal part of him howled with displeasure; Sirius was his, his prey, his mistake, and it should have been him bringing him back, punishing him, condemning him. It felt too private, too personal, too close to make it a public crime.

Once upon a time, when fear of discovery, fear of being known, of being seen had overwhelmed him, the confidence of his friends had soothed him. They were his balm and shield. And now, Sirius had put himself in the same position of the persecuted, and Remus wondered, did Sirius fret the same? Did he care?

And he would have liked to say, he’d made his bed, he’d made it so that there was no one to shield him anymore, but then he remembered, he had still not said a word about his Animagus form.

@wolfstarmicrofic (665 words)

[manmetaphysical]

1: The Inception Degree 

The zero degree of Aries aligns to the northern hemisphere and its annual rotation of Equinoxes and Solstices of Aries marks the beginning of Spring which is the beginning of Autumn in the southern hemisphere. The wheel of twelve archetypes revolves itself at this degree which initiates new patterns and paradigms. It marks a whole fresh cycle of the hero’s journey so it is like a seed. Now the stellium on this point is dispersing, it is becoming more evident day by day as we plough through into the second quarter of 2025.  For any major conjunction to happen here is highly significant and we need to acknowledge the deeper shift in the collective.

For two giants archetypes- Saturn and Neptune- to meet at the doorway of the zodiac here is a major turning point. This degree point calls for our attention. Saturn-Neptune has a synodic cycle and conjunctions happen every 36.4 years, but we have not seem one at this zero point of Aries for centuries so this conjunction is unique and powerful.

The world axis is a mega restart point in the zodiac. It heralds the new, the fresh, the original. But like all things look harder and you see the shadow form and that’s the dark side which is the 29° of Pisces. That’s the loss to the new beginning. The snake has to shed its skin, eat its own tail and go through a rite of passage to be reborn. It’s the Alpha and Omega. So symbolically at least endpoint anaretic degree of Pisces and the beginning degree of Aries have to be considered together as one hybrid gateway point.

Saturn is about hard-core reality and Neptune is nebulous unreality and the dreamworld so when these two planets combine is where all the non-solid elements  are given cortico-steroids but at the same time unreality fights back to assert layer upon layer of interpretation. The corporeal and incorporeal fight it out.  It is not all necessarily good and we might ask: are  the boundaries real or a figment of the imaginary realm, and are our mental structures both growing and receding at the same time, so in a state of oscillating flux?© Kieron Devlin, 20th May, 2025

[ciltilladeltilla]

Communities are each organized around a central tower, usually a very sturdy and tall one with lots of room for growth, and an upper section that's easier to take apart than the rest. Inside its architecture is written the history of the community and its members, including its prehistory extending into the earth. Retractions, additions and forgeries occur at different levels of the tower, in different scripts as time progresses. The exterior is marked by the observations of specific outsiders, often as a way of expressing goodwill from the community. Between the inside and outside, mementoes are sometimes hidden in the walls, sometimes ceremonially but almost always by those who steal away into it.

Members of a given generation are allowed to travel through the tower to certain points, but are forbidden from traveling to that of the generation directly beforehand or from reading their own records, all of which are managed by a special subclass of hierotopic sculptors. Adults must ask their children to relay the stories of their sections.

The oldest towers, especially those in a very turbulent period, are marked by jagged cuts in the stone where a generation went missing from the record, or more rarely by a lattice structure where the record bifurcates into groups for one or two generations until each gets subsumed back into a central column again. The underground levels are visited by everyone at least once, as part of growing up, but these split naturally into hidden stairwells, cairns and sideways tunnels, belonging to mystery cults and those with special knowledge of the history of the world. In some of these extra chambers it's said that changing text will change it in the aboveground portion, that when the time of changes comes the tower itself will rotate end-over-end and the history will become prophecy. Others claim that the tower will reach the heavens on the day that its lower half reaches the mythical antipodes on the other side of the world, and then like a spear it will pierce the axis of the world, rise from the ground into the upside-down broken land on the opposite side of the world, and the antipodeans will be rejuvenated into ancestors and ancient heroes, ushering in a golden age.

[philosophicalparadox]

A brief reminder that the Hero/Villain dichotomy is independent of both the Protagonist/Antagonist dichotomy and the Moral Alignment Chart

There are 9 moral alignments,

Which rotate around the intersection of the Lawful/Chaotic and Good/Evil axis.

These determine more or less the types of actions a character is likely to choose and the personality they have.

Lawful/Chaotic is simply a measure of whether they follow rules or make shit up as they go. Lawful characters can and do make their own rules or principles, but they adhere to them. Chaotic characters can have principles, but they tend to be very flexible and situational.

Hero/Villian is a continuum that tends to follow the Good/Evil axis, (stereotypically to the effect of Lawful Good vs. Chaotic Evil) but not always. Good/Evil is about motivation and intention. Hero/Villain is about outcomes.

Hero/Villain has to do with the actions a character chooses. And to a degree the effect of those actions.

Protagonist/Antagonist is truly separate from all of these as it’s the role that character plays in the story. Protagonist is the main character driving the story, Antagonist is the character trying to keep the protagonist from doing the story in some way.

So your character can in fact be Evil but a Hero. Or Good but a Villain. They can be Lawful Good and still be a Villain, if the result of their actions is lots of harm to other people or even a person.

I can think of a list of examples of this but I don’t think they’d be very useful as they’re kinda niche. But there’s my piece.

Heroism is simply the act of being where you are needed most? Of answering the call??? Of going or staying and standing and doing or enduring? Taking the place you have to take for the good of someone else?? Disregarding the cost???

[gabbarsingh27]

The Cool Revolution: Unveiling the Mechanics Behind Electric Fans

In a world where comfort and technology intertwine, the electric fan stands out as an indispensable invention. Whether mounted on a ceiling, attached to a stand, or placed on a desk, electric fans have become ubiquitous in homes, offices, and public spaces. This article delves into the inner workings of electric fans, exploring the fascinating journey from electrical energy to a cool, refreshing breeze.

The Motor: Powerhouse of the Electric Fan

At the heart of every electric fan lies a motor, the unsung hero responsible for transforming electrical energy into mechanical motion. Most electric fans employ induction motors, known for their reliability and efficiency. When you flip the switch to turn on the fan, you initiate a complex yet fascinating process.

As the electrical current flows into the motor, a magnetic field is generated. This magnetic field interacts with a rotor, typically a coil or winding inside the motor, inducing it to spin. The rotation of the rotor becomes the driving force that sets the entire fan in motion. The efficiency of the motor influences not only the fan's performance but also its energy consumption.

Blades: Designing Airflow

Connected to the spinning rotor are the fan blades, a critical component influencing the fan's airflow characteristics. The design, number, and pitch of these blades determine the volume and direction of the airflow produced. Typically made of lightweight materials like plastic or metal, the blades are carefully shaped to optimize the movement of air.

Blade pitch refers to the angle at which the blades are set concerning their rotational axis. A greater pitch tends to move more air but might require a more powerful motor to maintain speed. Modern electric fans often feature aerodynamically designed blades, leveraging science to maximize airflow efficiency while minimizing noise.

Power Source: AC vs. DC

Electric fans are powered by either alternating current (AC) or direct current (DC), each having its own set of advantages and applications. AC-powered fans, more common in households, offices, and industrial settings, receive power from the electrical grid. Their widespread use is attributed to the availability and ease of distribution of AC power.

On the other hand, DC-powered fans find their niche in portable devices, battery-operated applications, and certain electronics. These fans offer flexibility and energy efficiency, making them ideal for situations where a standard power outlet is not readily available.

Control Mechanism: Tailoring Comfort

The ability to control the speed of an electric fan enhances its versatility and adaptability to varying comfort preferences. Most fans come equipped with a control mechanism that allows users to adjust the speed settings. This is achieved by regulating the voltage or current supplied to the motor.

A typical fan may have multiple speed options, enabling users to create a gentle breeze for a quiet night's sleep or a powerful gust to combat the summer heat. Some advanced models even offer remote control or smart capabilities, allowing users to manage their fan settings effortlessly.

Energy Efficiency: Reducing Carbon Footprint

As society gravitates towards sustainability, energy efficiency becomes a crucial factor in the design and manufacturing of electric fans. Manufacturers strive to develop fans that provide optimal comfort while minimizing power consumption. Features like programmable timers, sleep modes, and energy-efficient motors contribute to reducing the carbon footprint associated with electric fan usage.

Conclusion: The Ever-Evolving World of Electric Fans

In conclusion, electric fans have evolved from simple devices to sophisticated appliances, seamlessly integrating comfort with cutting-edge technology. Understanding the intricate mechanics behind these cooling devices not only deepens our appreciation for their functionality but also highlights the strides made in energy efficiency and design. As the world continues to seek innovative solutions for climate control, the electric fan remains a timeless ally in our quest for a cool and comfortable environment.

[joylinda-hawks]

The Yueyang Sect is closely guarded. There are constant patrols around. There are also many martial arts masters in the city. I never thought Ghost Valley would cause such a stir. WOH, episode 8. In front of one of the buildings, a man praises the performance of the Western Province Band, saying that it is a rare opportunity. WKX, walking with ZZS, hears this announcement and asks if ZZS has seen magic tricks from the West. ZZS looks up. WKX says why they are beheading a beautiful lady with daggers. The man continues to praise the magic show, giving us live admission for a handful of coppers. Those interested approach the entrance, the man claims that everyone will be impressed. WKX suggests ZZS watch the show because he has never seen anything like it. Without a word, ZZS looks closely at WKX, who tells them to come in because FBZ may be inside. Without waiting for an answer, WKX pulls ZZS inside. There is a show going on inside, dancers are dancing to the rhythm of the music, and WKX and ZZS are sitting at one of the tables. ZZS is still silent, looks at the laughing WKX and smiles too. Music sounds around and women dance. WKX says this exotic performance is unique. ZZS does not respond. However, he is looking at the person playing the zither. WKX is paying attention. WKX responds that they should wait to see what he presents. A wardrobe is placed on the stage, two men open it and turn it around, showing the audience the empty interior. WKX and ZZS watch in silence. One of the dancers enters this closet. Both men close the wing and rotate it around its axis again. They then insert the swords into the holes that go through the wardrobe. The gathered crowd claps and shouts loudly, the men turn the wardrobe over again and after a moment draw their swords. ZZS sits and watches without saying a word, but he has a feeling that something might happen. After a while, sashes with inscriptions fall from the floor and demonic laughter can be heard. A terrifying voice congratulates the upcoming Heroes' Conference of the Five Lakes Alliance, the men open a wardrobe and severed human heads fall out. A voice loudly announces that these are ten human heads as a sign of Ghost Valley's goodwill. Terrified spectators ran out of the building. ZZS notices that the zither player has disappeared. A group of students from the Yueyang Sect run in, their leader orders the arrest of two men, and then notices the heads lying there. A curious crowd has gathered outside, but Yueyang Sect disciples ask people not to panic. The commander promises that the sect will investigate what happened here. WKX and ZZS stand in the distance and listen to this speech. The sect student adds that under the leadership of the GC, they will find the perpetrators of the crime and hold them accountable. Immediately after this, another group of officials appears and pays tribute to the sect's disciples. WKX states that the Yueyang Sect is stronger than the feudal officials. ZZS looks at WKX, who adds that GC has not left this world and they already treat him as an immortal. ZZS claims that the GC sect is closely guarded and there are constant patrols around it. ZZS explains that there are many martial artists in the city and he didn't think that the Valley of Spirits would dare to cause a stir. WKX responds that this is an insult to the GC who has lost face and Ghost Valley has put a lot of effort into humiliating the Yueyang Sect. He asks ZZS if he thinks this is just the beginning. ZZS doesn't react, he just thinks intensely. WKX asks if he's worried about ZCL, and ZZS asks since when he had a student. WKX asks why ZZS doesn't want to admit that he have a student and suggests that they visit ZJ and meet GC. ZZS doesn't know that WKX intentionally brought him on this show to show ZZS the power of Ghost Valley. He also wanted to know ZZS's reaction to what would happen during the performance. In his own way, WKX reveled in what he had planned and that GC and his sect were humiliated. ZZS still doesn't know exactly how many parties are interested in Glazed Armor, and+

[widmakenametal]

Enhancing precision and efficiency in metalworking with Vertical Turning Lathes

Metalworking is an intricate art requiring the perfect blend of skill, precision, and cutting-edge technology. In this pursuit, vertical turning lathes and vertical turret lathes have emerged as indispensable tools, revolutionising how we shape metal. Whether you're crafting a delicate watch part or a massive turbine component, these machines offer unparalleled accuracy and efficiency, making them the cornerstone of modern manufacturing.

Understanding Vertical Turning Lathes and Vertical Turret Lathes

Vertical turning lathes (VTL) and vertical turret lathes shine when working with large, heavy workpieces. These machines differ slightly in their setups but share the same fundamental principle: the workpiece is clamped vertically and rotated while the cutting tool moves in a controlled manner to shape the metal. This orientation offers several advantages, such as better stability, reduced tool deflection, and improved surface finish.

Precision redefined

At the heart of every VTL and vertical turret lathe lies precision engineering. The ability to craft intricate geometries with tolerances measured in micrometres is a game-changer. Whether it's creating complex contours or achieving tight concentricity, these machines elevate metalworking to an art form. The precision stems from the rigid structure of the machine, the advanced control systems, and the seamless integration of cutting-edge tooling technology.

Boosting efficiency and throughput

In the fast-paced world of manufacturing, efficiency is vital. Vertical turning lathes and vertical turret lathes excel in this department as well. The workpiece's vertical orientation allows gravity to assist in chip evacuation, preventing chip buildup that could otherwise affect the machining process. This leads to uninterrupted operations and higher throughput, reducing production time and costs.

Tackling versatility challenges

While vertical turning lathes and turret lathes are synonymous with larger workpieces, they're also surprisingly versatile. With advanced tool changers and multi-axis capabilities, these machines can seamlessly switch between tasks. From heavy roughing to delicate finishing, they adapt to various requirements, eliminating the need for multiple setups and reducing production complexity.

Pushing technological boundaries with WIDMA

WIDMA has been a name to reckon with in the realm of precision engineering and metalworking. With their commitment to innovation and quality, WIDMA has taken vertical turning lathes and vertical turret lathes to new heights. Their seamless integration of cutting-edge automation, tooling technology, and precision controls has set new benchmarks for the industry. 

Vertical Turning Lathes: a step ahead in industry 4.0

Regarding Industry 4.0, vertical turning lathes are integral to this transformative wave. The integration of IoT sensors and data analytics allows for real-time monitoring of the machining process. This predictive maintenance reduces downtime and enhances the lifespan of these valuable machines. With remote accessibility and data-driven insights, manufacturers can make informed decisions for optimised production.

The artistry of metalwork continues

In conclusion, as we marvel at the skyscrapers, the engines, and the delicate machinery that power our world, let's not forget the silent heroes behind their creation: vertical turning lathes and vertical turret lathes. With their precision, efficiency, and versatility, these machines have redefined what's possible in the world of metalworking. And in this journey of innovation and excellence, WIDMA stands as a beacon, illuminating the path forward.

As we shape the world around us, literally and figuratively, remember that every masterpiece begins with a single cut. With WIDMA and their cutting-edge solutions, that cut becomes a work of art.

[owleanders]

i've known her for 10 hours but i already love her

[katiefratie]

Finally starting the new rotating heroes campaign 🫡 the intro music slaps and I think thats still Jacob in the intro!!

[iicarusflew]

Astronomy

Every star is born with the electrifying possibility to burn as bright as the sun, before collapsing in itself by the force of everything else.

In the end, nothing is as remarkable as the anticipation of it.

On the night of his nineteenth birthday, Draco Malfoy ponders on the history of his eponym and tries to decide if he is doomed like the constellation. If all he’s ever going to be is the grimy mould he finds himself coiled by already. And if it’s true, if all we are is what we’ve been, then Hermione Granger might actually be right on her decision to leave him for good.

The birth of a star is a tedious thing.

In theory it sounds remarkable; floating masses of clouds collapsing on each other by the force of gravity, the pull of the mass being unbearable, unignorable. It takes an excruciating amount of miracles to happen at exactly the right time, the right place, for enough energy to build, for the molecules in the gasses and particles to start fusing with one another and form the protostar, which then goes onward to a new life.

Every star is born with the electrifying possibility to burn as bright as the sun, before collapsing in itself by the force of everything else. 

In the end, nothing is as remarkable as the anticipation of it.

 ___

It’s unseasonably cold in the astronomy tower. Dark as well, heavy masses of clouds hide everything from the stars to the moon away from the prying, hopeful eyes of people like Draco Malfoy, amateur astronomer, foolish boy. The darkness unnerved him a little, even after all this time, even after all the darkness he coiled in before, and he wondered for a moment if he could go back to the common room and face Pansy with some semblance of dignity. Pansy who with flushed cheeks and the shrill, excruciatingly caring voice, argued with him. The remnants of the conversation treks his thoughts and he sighs. He could go back, he could—

No.

In the end he decided to wait it out, the chill, the dark. And like almost all the other times, it set in. He swings his legs passively from the edge of the parapet now. He stares up at the sky but there isn’t much to see, he stares down at the front gates and there isn’t anything to look forward to. He thinks of whistling after a few moments. After it’s as close to comfort as he can get. The cold felt like a familiar sheet of skin on top of his own. The darkness now feels like his shadow. 

It’s good , he tells himself. It’s perfect.

There is an unopened gift box beside him. Green and silver wrapped, shiny. Even the covering gives the aura of senseless wealth. Well, wealth and his mother. When he picked it up from his owl this morning it felt like wood, it felt heavy. The letter in his hand is unopened, too. The seal of it bears the proud Malfoy emblem. On the top left corner of the back of the envelope, his mother’s slant handwriting reads—

To my dearest son, you are as bright as the constellations.

He snorts involuntarily. His mother has a habit of sending his gifts a day before his birthday so he wouldn’t have to wait even a second. His mother has a habit of overplaying his rather frail achievements.

 ___

The constellation that he is named after used to be a remarkable thing. One of the brightest stars of the constellation Draco, Thuban, was the pole star, the very centre of heaven. Heaven rotated around the axis of its star and Draco was the proud and undeterred centre, a symbol of eternity.

But the earth moved on. Slowly, deliberately, changed its axis. So now Draco is not the centre, not anything remarkable at all. Just a blot in the sky with a rich, crowning, overplayed history. It stands as a remembrance of the past and the ancient fascination and myths made by men, myths of dragons and heros and eternity. While in reality, it’s not even the largest constellation, nor the brightest. Its value is in its past, its history is everything that’s remarkable about it. That’s ever going to be remarkable about it.

Draco thinks it’s quite poetic, if he’s honest.

He thinks his parents have named him perfectly.

___

He picks up his gift again, absentmindedly thinking about what demands he’d made to his mother a year or two ago. His mother is a determined woman. Her love is as tenacious and tedious as the birth of a star.

He thinks he asked for a new telescope.

He doesn’t think he’ll be needing it anytime soon. And anyway, birthdays are overrated, self-serving. Nothing changes after you’ve been in the earth for another year. Nothing but more mistakes and regrets.

And god he misses Pansy and her senseless nihilism they used to share. The philosophy is losing her as she’s running around with Potter. And it’s even worse, one of them being sure stings worse than neither of them being sure. And it’s worse that he thought he was happy, that he’s finally found something— someone— to hold on to. But the memory of this morning stings his head still as he shivers from the unlikely cold in the astronomy tower, still as he feels the excruciating, nauseating burn of being alone, he stands by it. Having a birthday party as their common room seemed like the anatomy of a disaster, with all the conflicting loyalties and shifting perspectives. A few months ago, Pansy would get that. Unfortunately, dating Potter has a rather glowing, nauseating effect on her.

He wonders what effect he shows. Dating—

“There you are,” a tersely familiar voice calls from behind. And he straightens up a little, makes a shift in his space like it’s a habit.

Hermione Granger doesn’t budge when he doesn’t answer. She waits a moment, an eternity, then the steady taps of his feet make his heart stutter as the realization—stupid, familiar realization—hits that she isn’t going away this time either.

She sits beside him. And the familiar gust of her perfume—cinnamon and clove—makes the air warmer, it seems. Makes it more humid. More like reminiscence.

“What are you doing here?” she says, her voice a sharp, citrusy cut in the air. It makes him trip back from his thoughts about stars and supernovas and the universe and land to the memory of three days back. Her hushed moans when he got down on his knees in the corner of the empty Potions classroom and—

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Her voice. Please and oh gosh and more, Draco. And you’re so good, Draco.

She’s always hard on praises. And saying his name, and constructing his doom.

Her voice. It makes him warm amidst the chilly brush of night air.

I’ve been looking for you everywhere. How nice, how soft, how unlike what he deserves.

“Why?”

It’s a game of theirs. A rather one sided, self-deprecating game. Hermione Granger tries to be nice to him, he tries to thwart all the warm advances of her well-meaning heart with a force that should be commedable, that should be enough, but somehow isn’t. Somehow he still finds himself cornered with her, with his lips on hers and his hands around her throat not gripping, but squeezing. Softly, like he’s handling something delicate, like he’s handling his own scared heart in the gap between his palms. He angles their bodies perfectly when they kiss, not one inch of gap between them. Not one tiny scrap of air as he dips in and tastes her.

Granger tries to be delicate with him as well and in return gets something harsh. Something he hides—well, used to hide —in the locked closet of his heart. Some animal with a snarl and grimy talons and a jagged laceration on the middle of his chest made with his own claws. It’s something visceral that she brings out of him. It’s painful.

An ache.

A plea.

A wish.

Granger pffts. There’s a rustle of her robes as she sits beside him, feet hanging off the rails in imitation. He stares at the night sky littered with dead stars. He imagines her rolling her eyes. “Will you ever get tired of asking it?”

“Only if you get tired of answering it.”

She sighs in answer, but Draco knows the intricacies of her expressions by now. She’s not exasperated, she’s apprehensive. She is toying with him, enjoying the habit of being close to him.

“I was looking for you because I brought something for you.”

That cuts his gaze. He hesitates before tilting his head to find her staring at him the way she always does. Unafraid. Undeterred. She looks pretty in the rippling light of the moon. Hair askew, rouge frizzy strands everywhere like a haystack; the bags under her eyes are shadowed, hollowed in the mellow light. Her eyes are darker. She’s smiling.

“Happy birthday.”

___

The newborn star is sometimes larger than even the sun, burning softer, mellower. Centaurs can observe such a thing with their naked eyes. The young star is a brilliant green mist with bursts of red around its edges, with unfused clouds and dust particles cocooning its sides. Draco has a telescope his father gifted him for his sixth birthday, it was charmed to look through space-time and watch the course of a star from the past, into the future. He used it the night of his sixth birthday. He couldn’t understand any of it, but he thought it looked magnificent.

Now he knows better. The birth of a star takes a million years. A million, precarious years to burn and fuse and become . At first a star sprouts out to be as big as the sun, and just as bright. But nature intervenes. The energy inside it burns and burns out and dies little by little. And the end result is something much less remarkable than the beginning suggested. 

The death of a star… well. 

Stars take a billion years to burn out. Sometimes it becomes a red giant before bursting into an explosive supernova. Sometimes it spreads its carcass over the cosmos and sometimes it takes eons to recover from the heat of its leftovers. But other times they die quietly, with a broken dignity. Sometimes it turns into a dark star without much of a show. And there it goes. It becomes invisible to even the centaurs.

He wonders how it might feel to be as invisible as a dark star.

 

His eyes cut from her face to her hand. She has a little box in her outstretched palm. A dark, velvety box, small enough for really one thing. 

For a moment he can’t reply. There’s a thick blanket of air surrounding them, at this moment, at every moment they meet. And it’s glimmering, it’s shiny, it’s a sphere of trapped time and wishes. 

“How did you know?” he bleats out finally.

She purses her lips, narrows her eyes. He’s never met anyone as open as her before. Every line of her face betrays—always betrays—what she’s thinking. He’s never been so fascinated by this sort of idiosyncrasy before.

She thinks it’s a ridiculous question, but it’s not. Draco knows it isn’t. There is no conceivable reason for her to—

“Why won’t I know?”

He blinks. She rolls her eyes.

“When is my birthday?”

The answer trips from out of his mouth as instantly as it trips in his brain. He can’t stop it. He says, “September nineteenth.”

She raises her eyebrows. See? she’s thinking. And he does see now. His eyes widen, lips part and he vaguely remembers that he ought to feel embarrassed, for being proved wrong, for being called out on the facade. But—

“Oh,” he is all that comes out of his parched mouth. “Oh.”

She smiles again. Really, how can she not run out of them? “You’re supposed to take the gift, Draco.”

He does. Picks up the box without making it obvious that he’s avoiding touching her skin. He silently undoes the tiny latch on the box, his heart in his stomach, his throat, his brain—anywhere but where it should be. And its beating is a harsh, rough cry for help. And the box is so obvious, such a thin veil hiding what’s inside, he can already see what’s inside it.

The ring is propped up against the small cushions inside the box, the velvety green cushion brightens the silver of it. When he plucks it up, tilts it to the light, he sees the miniscule stars engraved on the metal, scatter of stars pleated into the skin, joined by a single, connecting thread. He doesn’t need to count the numbers to know how many are there. The stars shimmers, just like the—

“The constellation Draco,” Granger says, breathes out, really, with the huff and puff and exasperated breathlessness unique to her. To her, for him. “I thought—well, since your name means something so beautiful, I thought… I mean…”

“What are you doing?” he snaps.

“What?”

“What are you doing here with me? Why are you giving me gifts? I never gave you gifts.”

Granger blinks, as if suddenly cut off from a daze. “I—uh, what?”

“Why are you giving me this gift?” He gets up, backs up from her so he can breathe functionally. Hermione’s stare follow him and he is trying so fucking hard not to let the crack in his ribcage show. The crack that’s been settling since this morning, since he overheard her say—

“It’s your birthday, Draco.”

“I know .” He does. And he also knows gifts are just a gateway to pillage. His father was a politician. He knows that you give something to get something. The bulls lead as an offering were trussed up with flowers and honey in ancient Greece. The offering was burnt up in a fire as big as a tower. Staring at Hermione Granger’s pretty, lovely face, Draco is sure the fire looked just as magnificent as she does.

“Well, I—you…”

“I know why you’re giving me this,” his voice comes out hoarse, strangled.

“Because it’s—”

“Because you want to break up with me.”

She looks completely aghast. “Excuse me?”

Oh god. Is this the moment where she tells him they weren’t in a relationship to begin with?

“I heard you talking to Potter this morning.”

She blinks. There’s a flutter of clarity before it muddles up again. Draco can’t look away for the love of his sanity. “I still don’t understand,” she says, but she trembles.

“I heard you.” His teeth mash together. The two of them were standing against the wall in front of Charms. He was hunched behind the giant pillar beside. “You said the next summer is going to change everything. You said… you’ll end it.”

Her eyes widen. She gets up now. “Oh, Draco—”

“And… I get it, okay? I—this was all…” Too big to hope, too big to ask for. “We are both so different. And I know you’ll try to make it easier for me because I know you have stupid saviour complex and I know you don’t want to do more damage to me as it is, but, Merlin fuck, Granger, you don’t need to try so hard to… but Potter?”

“Draco, this wasn’t—”

“You couldn’t tell me? You had to ask for his fucking—”

“Draco, stop!”

He does. Partly because of her shrillness, partly because he is finally short on air.

“I wasn’t going to… I was telling him that I decided to have sex with you!”

“What?”

Her voice catches on itself. “The final barrier. The… bridge I wasn’t ready to cross. I was telling him—”

“You’ll end it.”

“End this stupid habit of reparation. Building forts and distancing between myself and what makes me happy. It’s burning me out, not being completely honest. Surrounding myself with excuses, but I… I wasn’t thinking of breaking up with you.”

“Am I burning you out?”

“ What?” she bleats. “No. That’s… that’s the complete opposite of what I said.”

He is heaving. He has a hard time believing her. “You said this vacation will change everything.”

“Yes. It will. If you were going to eavesdrop, you should’ve waited for the entire context.”

“But you… but I—” How could she not be ready to leave him? All he does is hiss and bite and slither inside the skin he has hated his entire life. He knows in the few months of being with her that she can see past all this… but then why doesn’t she coil in disgust?

___

Hermione moves forward. The gap between their bodies is contracted until there’s nothing else, until she’s just there. And half of him wants to get away from her to do the noble thing, half of him wants to never let her go.

Anticipation is all he feels. Trepidation. The shiver the spark the electricity of it. It’s been there since the start of this year, it’s been consistent every time they kiss. Every step he takes to her he takes thinking about the next one, and the one after that. Everything is a pandemonium and a premonition. Drop to your knees like it’s a prayer, taste her, make her come. Make sure you didn’t wear the mask when you got out of your dorm, make sure your mask doesn’t fall off anyway. Treat her good, make her feel good to make up for all the times you couldn’t— didn’t.

He tries to do that… all of that. But it doesn’t work. He keep leaking out the rotten parts of him as well. Stars showing the scars, starts being too intimate, too personal… too honest. He moans out requests when she is breaking in front of him, when he’s most vulnerable.

Tell me how I make you feel, he pants, his lips glistening from the wetness of her. Her answering whimpers are the result of him sucking on her swollen clit. 

Is it good? Because he’s only ever been as good as people saw him. 

In the height of her orgasm she only offers, Yes, so good so good

But when they recover, she tells him more. He is good, he is brilliant and curious and empathetic and—

“Leaving you is the farthest thing from my mind,” she whispers.

“Granger—”

“You’re kind of the only thing that makes my life bearable.”

She’s as bright as the star. But stars burn out. The fuel that makes them shimmer and shine also makes them spent. The warmth Hermione Granger brings in people’s lives must chafe away her own self-preservation. A star takes a billion years to perish; how much longer does she have? How is that compromised if she hovers around the likes of him?

Draco, as ancient a history as the constellation he is named after. Once the centre of heaven, now pushed to the side.

Before he can stop himself, he is whispering too, “It can’t work. Granger… Hermione, I am—you are—”

“What?”

“Don’t you see? I’m ancient history. My story’s already been written. I’m rotten. I am… nothing.”

She stands on her toes, circles her hands around the nape of his neck. “You are everything .”

He scoffs. She is the tenacious sort, too.

She pulls him closer. She is the only thing visible in the hollow world. “You’re not any more damaged than the rest of us, Draco. You just decide to punish yourself for it. Under all this resistance I know—I’ve seen— who you really are. You’re not as hopeless as you think you are. You are strong and brilliant and tenacious . I think I’m in love—”

He kisses her. It’s hurried, it’s rushed and sloppy because nothing is ever as good as the anticipation of it. The rest of the sentence get’s muffled in the space between their mouths. She chokes out a breath, a half moan as he slips his tongue inside her mouth. There is a grip on his hair, there’s a knot in his heart. He breaks down when they break apart.

“Tell me in the morning,” he whispers hoarsely. “In the light. Because I do. I love you. It scares me so much. I love you.”

Hermione’s eyes melt, shine and shimmer. It’s an entire ocean of words, it’s language in its entirety. He can spend his whole summer looking at them. He can spend a lifetime.

“I love you. I’ll say it again in the morning.”

There’s anticipation teeming for the next kiss. As thick and irreproachable as magic . Pure and undiluted. Magic coarse enough to burn his bones. strong enough to smooth whatever damage it’s going to leave. Absentmindedly, he wonders about the first man who discovered the constellation, his namesake. And about the one who determined it was the centre of the sky. And even more bleakly, at the back of his head, he wonders if it could rival the exhilaration that comes with the knowledge that there is something in this world who loves you even after seeing the very worst of you.

He doubts it. 

She smells of cinnamon and books. The anticipation is electrifying, cursing his bones, mending it. He wonders how he looks to her. He thinks he knows the answer.

___

The kiss, as it turns out, is just as good as the anticipation of it.

[deepjams4]

A Big Salute to Silent Workers!

All run to grab headlines and

competing to snatch credit

but it’s the silent workers

whose efforts get ignored!

The unsung heroes though

feel frustrated and sulking

but they keep on working!

There was a fight between

the Sun and the calendar!

Calendar claimed it brings

the change of day and date!

Sun too staked same claim!

In the fray Moon too jumped in!

Were they ignorant or selfish

of stark reality of the universe

as they conveniently ignored

all the hard work that earth does!

Neither the flipping of calendar

nor it’s the Sun rise or Sunsets

nor even the face of the Moon

that sometimes disappears or

appears sometimes half or less or

sometimes silvery bright fully round

that brings any change in day and date!

But it’s only the earth that rotates

on its axis all the times unstopped

that only makes it really possible

for the day and date to change!

[quirkwizard]

Hey wizard, first I just wanted to ask how are you these days and are you doing okay physically and mentally? And second do you have any quirks fit for a astronaut or astronaut themed hero?

First off, I am doing fine, thank you for asking. The first idea that came to mind was something star related or something that made the user move in zero gravity. But we kind of already have that with "Star Swarm" and, well, "Zero Gravity". However, I do think I have a really good idea for an astronaut.

I see it working as an Emitter type Quirk allows the user to form a series of gray orbs the size of a softballs from their body. The orbs are heavy and tough, having a consistency similar to solid concrete These orbs will then begin to orbit around the user in a circular motion. The user can control the orb’s rotation and can change where it orbits around, such as having it orbit around their wrist and then their waist, and their radius, capable of having making rotational circles up to five meters in length. This control extends to the speed of the orbs, like having them stop in place or move them at high speeds, and can adjust the axis of their movement, like making the circle it moves in diagonal. This gives the user a unique ability in combat, attacking foes or defending themselves with these spinning balls with their varied range and power. They can smack foes with the orbs, intercept incoming attacks, use the orbs to push the user around, use them like stepping stones to get around, or just use it to become a living science project. Though the user only has ten of these orbs to work with at a time. The need to keep track of all the orbs, their positions, and rotations can be difficult for the user and can make them predictable for the enemy. A possible name for the Quirk could be "Orbital".