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makingspiritualityreal · 10 months

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The Path of Evolution of Nakshatra Yonis

In traditional Vedic Astrology, every Nakshatra is attributed an animal, that explains its primal, instinctive nature. Yoni, besides its sexual connotations literally means "nature" and "origin", implying that our human nature is going to be similar to that given animal, indicating a level of similarity in fate, spiritually. Yoni energy, in collective consciousness, is what originated people saying that "a Tiger cannot change its stripes", just like we can't change our natural instincts.

The fate of Yoni energies, however, is not stagnant, as it indicates a certain path of evolution. The animal characteristics point to changing one's roles within the species. They are symbolic as to the instinctual nature that we take among other people, and how that evolved over time.

The best, brief description of Animal Yonis, translated by a native Indian can be found here, and after years of my own study and analysing the work of other astrologers also, I find this explanation to be very congruent with the reality of people's behaviors, coming from their Nakshatras.

Below, I will give an explanation of how each yoni grows over time using Nakshatra pairs.

Sheep Yoni - Krittika, Pushya

The name of the Yoni is in fact translated more to "Herder" or "Shepherd" rather than Sheep, another entry even translating Mesh to "The Best Guidance". That showcases the gentle, caring form of leadership that this Yoni is supposed to embody. It also shows the path of being born as one of the masses to becoming a leader of the flock. That contrast occurs through a simple truth in the Universe, that there are those who start waves, who "herd", those that initiate, or those who blindly follow, thus becoming "sheep". These Nakshatras are very strict, even black and white in embodying a simple truth, that if you don't dictate the current of your own life well, you will end up being swept away in the current dictated by somebody else. We all make decisions all the time, and if our actions are self destructive in face of opportunity, we won't ultimately arrive at the right place. The Universe at large is of course more complex than that, but for these natives, this idea is what charts their spiritual path. These natives karma is to undergo an evolution from being a "blind sheep", having an energetic poverty mentality and obsessing over feeling wanted through other people's approval to proudly showcasing oneself into a nurturing, guiding figure that cares about the well being of its people and cares for their sensitivity, as sheep are very delicate animals, get spooked easily, and herding them requires quite a skill, yet they still respond to natural confidence. It also shows this Yoni's attachment to working with common people in simple communities with a grass roots philosophy. The struggle for this Yoni is believing in themselves, their correct path and their own leadership power, as their emotional association and attachment with the masses and the common man can give them quite an inferiority complex early on in life and cause them to try to follow and imitate rather than lead, and their leadership is something they must create themselves, not something given to them or encouraged from birth. They key is to be a leader not out of ego, but out of love and service.

2. Snake Yoni - Rohini, Mrigashira

The Snake, just like the wildly misinterpreted biblical symbol, referred to in this Yoni is symbolic for a Kundalini awakening. Rather than the animal itself, which is associated more with Ashlesha Nakshatra, this Yoni relates purely to the awakening of our life force through passage of time and surviving certain events. The Yoni name in sanskrit translates to performance of gentle, cautious movements, slowly over time to the point of testing its subjects and bringing them to the point of torture. This test is necessary, as Kundalini awakenings and working with one's spiritual progress does not happen overnight, and without merit. These natives feel a significant pressure to awaken their energy, which initially can manifest as flightiness and careless, scattered romantic and sexual behavior. That happens on a subconscious level, as this Yoni tries to apply pressure to their kundalini energy from different angles in different forms through other people, and some of that experience has to be physical. They are naturally talented at accessing other people's kundalini points too, which can make them seem manipulative, but they in fact have the power to trigger a spiritual awakening not only in themselves but in others, which also will manifest as physical abundance. Often they have to go through very intense experiences for their kundalini to burst through. Their evolution has a deeply spiritual dimension, that transforms their energy from restless to rhythmic. As their consciousness is rising, the Kundalini is recoiling into purpose of energy mastery through transformation of both material and spiritual. The dharmic nature of this Yoni shows the importance of righteousness for these natives without looking out for merit, which arrives at its own designated time.

3. Dog Yoni - Ardra, Mula

The direct translation of this Yoni indicates the concept of being "easily attracted or captivated" or "easily attracting due to emitting an attractive sounding noise". Thus, these natives have issues with bondage to other people since their early lives. The challenge set before this Yoni is discipline and dignity, and finding their winning place in hierarchy. They have a pack mentality, and they tend to be picky but unwavering in support. However, that also makes them very frantic in earlier life, as their loyalty often gets the better of them and they are generous even to their own detriment, not looking where the pack leads them, because the concept of being "packless" scares them. As a result, they "bind" themselves to people not worthy of their loyalty, instead of embracing their power to control worthy others in an organized fashion. Their evolution is meant to go from Loyal to Steady, as they become more self assured and less reactive, and as a result, they attract their own tribe. The spiritual understanding here, is that one will always naturally attract their own tribe, and you are never truly alone, and you should not be afraid of restraint and self-focus leading to loneliness, as ultimately, your people will find you. These natives have an inbred discernment of who really is loyal to them and to their cause, as they know that a pack can only survive and function if its built on solid ground.

4. Cat Yoni - Punarvasu, Ashlesha

Anyone who has ever owned a cat knows, that these animals not only love to clean themselves constantly, but they also love laying down on you, whenever you are ill or unwell, and their natural frequency has a healing vibration. Sadly for these natives, early on in life that means attracting a lot of damaged people, or being the one that has to energetically clean up situations, even if it's just friends and family. In their youth, they are born or forced into environments that are not good for them, because of their burden of erasing destructive karmas. Such is the original karma of this yoni, as they are sent to clean up messes and "gather and purify" energies in places and environments, where they are needed to balance out stagnant situations, that no-one else can or wants to help with. Over time, this scenario gets old, as the natives themselves get blamed and pegged for the difficult situations they came into to help, as the people they work with are too low spiritually to acknowledge the truth of their own destructive actions, which is why they were targeted for this Yoni's "karma cleaning" force field to begin with. In reality, this Yoni natives suffer a lot of damage and can build up a lot of distrust towards people, just like cats don't immediately show love until you gain their trust. Their lives only get better once they place themselves in a healing profession, so they can channel their karma clearing energy productively, since they can't hold back their instinct of "constantly cleaning up", just like cats constantly clean themselves. Punarvasu is more responsible for emotional, spiritual healing and environmental causes, Ashlesha is more of a physical healer/doctor figure in modern society, because of its links to the caduceus, used in medical science, and its links to poison, as the right dose of poison is medicine. The challenge for these natives is to evolve from absorbing negativity and cleaning up other people's messes endlessly without merit to finding a good environment, and remaining so Pure, that they radiate it and they can contribute to cleaning up world problems on a larger scale, and get fairly recognized for it.

5. Rat Yoni - Magha, Purva Phalguni

The literal translation of this Yoni indicates not only a small rodent, mouse or a rat, but also a thief, and one's ability to gain entry into difficult to enter places sneakily. All of these abilities pertain to how socially skillful this Yoni is, being able to charm its way into various circles and thus "gain entry" into places way above their stature of birth, places one technically shouldn't have the right to be in. The instinctual nature of this Yoni is to cast a wide social net, and charm every single person for their benefit. However, there is a difficulty in settling into place, which can come at one's detriment. This yoni has a challenge of transforming from running around between meaningless people restlessly to circulating intelligently and with purpose. They have an inborn skill of social grace and are able to benefit through wise navigation, but they struggle with choosing and contributing to and moving consciously between meaningful alliances. Often, they manage to charm their interlocutor, only to get to know them better, lose interest and move on. This cycle can continue futilely, until this yoni learns discernment in networking, as their fickle-mindedness can cost them valuable partnerships. Just because one can enter into many places, doesn't mean one should. The other party can sense, that this Yoni isn't fully "settled" into the interaction long term, as they're still keeping their eye out for the next best thing, and as a result, they don't inspire loyalty or trust, which are necessary even if in small amounts for social benefit. In its matured state, this Yoni is able to build a meaningful network over time, being able to convince each of their allies that they are also indispensable to them and make their way up, climbing the social ladder. However, it is also necessary to contribute more than charm to partnerships, as the veneer of pleasantry fades over time, and one is likely to make enemies if not cautious. Thus, learning multiple, substantial skills and building actual character is necessary for this yoni to function well.

6. Cow Yoni - Uttara Phalguni, Uttara Bhadrapada

The literal meaning of this Yoni is translated to "boundless", showing one's energetic ability to provide to all generously, and a heavy quality of pure, positive energy. That is done by associating this name with all possible metaphors for abundance, such as flowing milk, boundless sky, beaming rays of light. The Cow Yoni needs to be understood from the perspective of Hindu culture, where it is a sacred animal. This Yoni refers to a particular purity and grandiosity, mixed with gentleness of nature. However, as we in the Western Society know, cows tend to get mass butchered for the benefit of men, and this Yoni's fate is a mix of approach from both cultures. That reflects the path of this Yoni, that faces a challenge from being taken advantage of to being given a safe space, creating and participating in an organized system and being worshipped for its merit. As they settle into the space that is right for them, they begin naturally spreading their abundance, which leads to getting respect for a wide scope of provision and protection, that their aura provides. They attract people either way, but with status comes ability to control ones worshippers and maintain their safety as opposed to getting taken advantage of. The ultimate goal of this Yoni is to find satisfaction in achievement through abundant sharing while remaining in their secured position, as they are sort of a Universal parent of humanity, meaning to guide, provide for, and control it, rather than being controlled. They need to create a system to "get milked" in a way that's healthy for them, not butchered.

7. Buffalo Yoni - Hasta, Swati

This Yoni possesses within itself an interesting contrast, as the translation has a dual signification. One of them indicates "a person of a lower origin", with specific pointers towards women needing to sell their bodies to survive, and then transformed into "a wife of a king" or "a god on Earth". This duality relates to this Yoni's earthly task, to purify false currents and blow in the winds of true wisdom. Roaming is the word best described to define this Nakshatras nature. Their path is one of dynamic, responsible grace. They are freedom loving and boundless, they don't like to be limited and as a result, early on in life they make mistakes of trampling over people just to rebel and avoid feeling tied down. In another scenario, they themselves get trampled on by others. That takes away their best trump card, which is positively inspiring others, as the truth they carry needs to be heard. Over time, the course they chart becomes more conscious and inspiring to people, as they deep down want to use their freedom for a good reason, and their flair and spirit attract others, who want to feel the fresh breath of wind of manifested spiritual reality with them. Their mission is to go from childish and avoiding of facts and responsibility or struggling, to becoming a unique, genuine freedom fighter with a good cause, a spiritual scientist that has the power to influence crowds yet still remain free spirited. In their refined form, these natives, every time they fly by, bring blessings to their surroundings with a gust of energy current, that they leave behind them, purifying and correcting falsehoods plaguing humanity. They have to be very responsible for the quality of the energy they carry, as what they scatter, will be left behind, and they will be judged and remembered for the fruits of their effort, and their truth. Thus, their natural ability to spread the energy far and wide has to come in pair with integrity, assuring, that what they share is worth spreading.

8. Tiger Yoni - Chitra, Vishakha

The meaning of this Yoni is directly translated to potency and readiness. More than a tiger itself, the name translates to "A Vibration that Causes Manifestation", but also "restless, agitated" and "exposed to dangers". The energy here is purely rajasic, concentrated on one's ability to obtain and manifest one's desires, but it also talks about the fact, that there will always be those, who are against you fulfilling your desires because people don't always want our good, and getting what you want is contingent on overcoming opposition. The goal of this Yoni is to discover its immense inner power on the path from prey to predator. As another catlike Yoni, they are rarely born into circumstances fitting them, and they have to fight for their position in the Jungle of life. Their road develops from being hunted to hunting after their goals, from stumbling to graceful and intimidating. The power here is to go for what you want, regardless of opposition. Deep down these natives are powerfully sneaky, being able to influence or intimidate people to get what they want and elevate themselves out of difficult circumstances. They face the challenge of overcoming negative attachment and betrayal of people who question their authority, which is exactly what pushes them to embrace their power. Side note, please watch Katy Perry's "Roar" music video, it is so cliché of this Yoni it borderlines on hilarity.

9. Deer Yoni - Anuradha, Jyeshta

The main characteristic of this yoni, is that they are always in motion. They rarely pause, and they are very cautious and weary of enemies. This Yoni is not actually associated with the Deer itself, but with hunting, and chasing, Sanskrit even giving referrals to hyenas, showing the ruthlessness of their pursuits. The key element here is conquering fear of opposition, as this Yoni is closely linked to the Sacral Chakra, which cannot be expressed in a state of fear. The name of the Yoni also means relentless, which indicates that to achieve one's goal, one must have continuous persistence in face of opposition, until no-one dares to challenge them. Their path is one of developing merit and achievements over time stemming from their relentless pursuit of a worthy goal. They are supposed to move forward from blind ambition towards meaningful contribution and protecting their work for their work's sake. It is very important for them to have an outlet, as they become attacking and destructive when lost and not contributing to anything meaningful, just to deal with their inner restlessness and their desire to hunt or chase for something. They need to have an external endeavor to obtain, something to seek or strive after, as they delight more in the hunt than the tasting of the reward.

10. Alien Yoni - Purva Ashadha, Shravana

The traditional name of this Yoni is associated with a Monkey, but it is due to a lack of precision in understanding the nature of these natives. It is true, that they have to learn how to navigate and exist among humanity through imitation, just like Monkeys navigate the jungle, but that is a gross understatement of their higher nature, as deep down, they are "not from here". The confusion with the monkey also comes from calling these natives "a mysterious creature that appeared in the forest" in Sanskrit. The evolution path of this Yoni is marked with their eccentric nature, as they are the most unique of all the Yonis, possessing a high level of depth due to their connection with otherworldly realms, being literally, not of this world. As a result of their uniqueness, they often feel separated from the rest of humanity in early years. Human beings initially have an impossible time grasping their higher nature, calling them "weird creatures of the forest" and frowning upon them, often abusing them as a result, as what we can't control, we fear. As these natives learn to harness the special gifts they are born with, they become a visionary, which leads them to gathering a following of people who finally appreciate, even worship their irreplaceable contribution, and pure heart that bursts forth through their creations.

11. Mongoose Yoni - Uttara Ashadha

The interesting part of translating the Yoni name for these natives, is that minus the obvious animal connotation, this Yoni can be translated to something akin to "A Spiritual Weapon". The struggle of this Yoni, that is well known is that it exists in a solitary form, possessing its equal only amongst the stars. Yoni matching here is not of interest, as these animals tend to travel in organized packs of their own. There is an element of being misunderstood and ostracized from the rest of the world, which leads them sometimes to questionable means, that they need in order to survive in early life. These means however, never last because these people possess a higher spiritual vibration, that seeks to purify itself. Their path is one from solitude, fear, lack, being hunted and outcast to surrender, enlightenment and brotherhood. They have a unique ability to establish a higher connection to the entire universe through equating people with nature. As much as they are without a consort, they can instinctively smell the nature of all other yonis. These natives are of such an advanced nature, that they understand our human selves are ultimately only tools in ascension and freeing your energy, which is their true goal, and their only real interest on this planet, since they operate mostly from the higher chakras.

12. Lion Yoni - Dhanishta, Purva Bhadrapada

The aspect of the Lion, coming from this Yoni's name comes from its dignified, steady posture, emitting calmness and pride, much like the dignified, yogic, lotus position, pertaining to the spiritual dignity of steadiness in form. The theme of saving face is very strong with this Yoni, as they are taught not to show weakness and preserve their stance since birth. They tend to get angry easily in earlier life, as they are naturally rebellious, independent, touchy, reactive and territorial. However, even if they are not born into status, they are born into a family that put an emphasis of making an impression and maintaining a certain position, even among obstacles. The key is to learn how to make being authentically oneself look good, and maintain one's dignity even as people oppose their natural, chosen path. Their path is one from laziness and reactivity to pride and dignity in face of adversity. Developing nobility of spirit is essential, as they need to be unflinching on their way up. If they develop a mix of internal integrity and an ability to present a good façade and a strong posture, they become very charismatic and inspiring, as their courage and determination is a guiding light for the world. They embody the spiritual meaning of appearances.

13. Horse Yoni - Shatabhisha, Ashwini

The biggest challenge of these natives is to be able to charter a long-term course, which in human life usually has a form of a complex, long term project. That is why both Shatabhisha and Ashwini are linked to the concept of inventing and developing miraculous cures, as this process can sometimes take decades. The other reason for this power they have, is that the name of the Yoni can also be associated with "revitalization". Think of the process of taming a wild horse. Initially, they put up a lot of resistance and they tend to scatter, and run without purpose. But with the right guidance, they can carry enormous burdens and have a lot of stamina, which allows them to traverse huge distances and bridge gaps, leading to novelty. Their path is one of moving from variety mindless pursuits to actually being able to hone in and finish a meaningful task, as they tame their own kundalini spark, that has the power to initiate breakthroughs for all mankind.

14. Elephant Yoni - Bharani, Revati

There is an element of subconscious fear of being consumed in this yoni, as they have an acute awareness of death, mixed with the consciousness of carrying a precious heritage. On their track, as contradictory emotions often go in tandem, they move on from initial timidness to reckless fearlessness, as if to taunt the world. As they mature, they grow into careful judgment and investment, thinking about what they will leave after death. Their path is to grow from being anxious about their fate to trusting in and performing divine judgment and working on their legacy. The challenge to overcome here is to develop an understanding, that death will ultimately come for us all, but our achievements and energetic contribution, as well as really strong, authentic bonds, can transcend that, and so one should be neither reckless nor fearful in the face of one's own mortality. These natives have the power to pour all of their wisdom and enormous energy body to nourish very wide projects, and they also have an inherent spiritual control to accessing huge bodies of energy, as they grow into being able to transcend their own limitations. In that way, they can become a measuring stick for others or even society at large. They are concerned with offspring, as they want to pass their heritage to them as a way of transcending death itself.

#vedic astrology #jyotish #nakshatras #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes

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shima-draws · 6 months

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WOO HOO EZIO'S HERE 👏

As always more info about him under the cut <3

Name: Ezio

Age: 27

Hair color: White

Eye color: Red

Element: None

Ezio's a runaway who cast off his life as a noble and is now adventuring freely with Nahu and co.! He was never one for the stuffy upper class life he grew up in, and has been trying to outrun his legacy for ages. Nahu and the others don't even know he's from a high class society and when they do find out, needless to say they are shocked because Ezio was the LAST person they expected among all of them to have a fancy shmancy background.

It's not something he necessarily tries to keep secret; he just views it as something that's not part of him anymore. However he still does have ties to that world--there's a girl he grew up with and who is a close friend of his that he's actually engaged to. Neither of them want anything to do with the engagement, and said friend was more than encouraging when it came to Ezio cutting ties with his status and running off.

Ezio's extremely independent and self-sufficient! He knows very well how to handle himself in most aspects of life. He's also very stoic and quiet most of the time, preferring actions over words. When it comes to combat he's one of the strongest members of the team, being an expert at sword wielding and hand-to-hand. Considering he's a non-elemental that's pretty impressive.

He's also stupidly loyal and ridiculously self sacrificial (but like, most of the group are too so he's not special in that regard. LMAO) He's got a very unhealthy attachment to Nahu and probably needs to go to therapy. Ezio will put Nahu above everybody else, no matter what the situation, even if he has to betray other members of the group. He is the definition of Ride or Die. (He cares about them tho of course!! He loves them all very much, Nahu's just his top priority in all cases.) He's down BAD for Nahu and everybody knows it except for Nahu :)))) Main reasoning behind this stems from the fact that Nahu was probably the first person Ezio met that was actually genuine and not plastic and fake like all the people he grew up around. Nahu beat up some people hired to bring Ezio home and then smiled at him one (1) time and that was IT. He was done for. He will now die for Nahu and follow him to the ends of the earth. End of story

(This comes back to bite him in the ass later bc Nahu uhhh disappears for Reasons™ and Ezio spirals HARD. Cue him going off on his own and disregarding the rest of the squad bc he literally cannot fathom living without Nahu. Again. THERAPY)

Ezio's actually a shockingly good dancer, too (dance lessons growing up), but he adamantly refuses to dance with anybody who can't keep up with him. Which is basically most of the group. The only person who can is Ione, because of her idol background. Everyone is jealous of her for this. LOL

He's also fluent in multiple languages (again, noble background) including sign language, so he and Sage are the only ones capable of communicating with Ione for a while until they teach everyone else :"D

Due to his upbringing he's uhh. Emotionally constipated lol. It's definitely a learning curve for him trying to actually show his feelings and be truthful about them. This is something he generally struggles with but luckily he's got the best group of friends anybody could ask for who support him through everything. EVEN his simping 😂

#Among the Stars #ATS #Original character #Character art #OC #Character sheet #Digital art #Fantasy #Character design #OC design #Art #Ezio #Shima's OCs #OC art #shima-draws

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kaelio · 7 months

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To be honest, a lot of the politics you see online--on Tumblr and Twitter--are predicated on the biggest posters with the biggest followings being people who had a lot of potential they squandered, and their spite drives them to encourage other people to engage in self-destructive behaviors. That's also why you see a lot of "gifted kid" discourse from them, while sprinkling in the occasional "lol why even go in to work, fuck your boss." They're mad other people succeeded. They're more angry that other people succeeded than they care if they succeed. They want things to suck as much as possible so other people are on their level, even if it means, for the most part, people being dragged down and certainly not lifted up. Black unemployment is the lowest it's ever been and they secretly want to throw that away so that immigrants get shot at the border, because behind 99% of these snappy, cynical accounts is someone secretly seething that immigrants who come to America tend to benefit from that and apply it towards the welfare of their families, as productive members of a community. They pretend to be "left-wing" but look at what they're actually doing. Look at the implications their preferences actually have. They need that because if you actually evaluated their stances and the implications of the behavior they promote, it's a pound of flesh at everyone else's expense. The lowest quintile of incomes is doing better under Biden than in the last 40 years (very much taking into account inflation, because it's been driven by low-income workers finally being paid more and this being reflected in the cost of goods and services). If they cared about uplifting the poor, they'd tell you things like that. And on matters of foreign policy, since that's what they're using as cover right now, they'd be upfront about the foreign policy differences between the two parties (e.g. Trump got his Muslim ban and wants a stronger one, and it is constitutional, and he will do it--including his literally announced plan to deport anyone on a visa who protests, which is also actually constitutional).

Among other things, their professed position tends to rely on the idea that the USA is uniquely despicable but the US government should also be bigger and do more things for people. Any actual political thinker who is thinking politics-first will have a coherent answer to that, because it's on-its-face contradictory. But again: it's not driven by actual political principles, they're working through personal resentments and using politics to make you think you should listen to them and validate them.

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lunarlianna · 1 year

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Planets in the 11th house

The Eleventh House, often called the House of Friends, highlights the strength we find in connections. It's about the power of groups, clubs, and organizations that shape our lives. Within these circles, we discover our potential and grow into our true selves. This house also resonates with our dreams and hopes. It encourages us to envision and work towards our best selves. In the Eleventh House, Aquarius, Saturn, and Uranus reign.

The Sun: in the 11th house fuels a drive for elevating group goals, often leading you to influential friendships and a leadership role within communities. Your open-minded and responsible approach aims for positive change, driven by a desire to empower and uplift. Embrace your social influence, using it to make a meaningful impact on the world around you.

The Moon: in the 11th house often brings female friendships and a sense of security through group belonging. Your nurturing instincts find expression in humanitarian pursuits, valuing collective well-being over personal gain. Working for the group's benefit is fulfilling, driven by your empathy and responsiveness to others. Within your career, friendships play a crucial role, shaping opportunities and enduring beyond tasks. Prioritize a sense of belonging to nurture your emotional well-being, guarding against detachment from your feelings.

Mercury: in the 11th House bestows an ingenious, adaptable, and intellectual mind. Achievement revolves around mental prowess. Friendships, especially with younger individuals or diverse perspectives, energize you. You thrive as a communicator within groups, perhaps as a spokesperson or secretary. Your innovative problem-solving talents shine, but seeking intellectual nourishment from your community remains vital for your growth.

Venus: in the 11th House, your friendly and tactful nature attracts a circle of helpful friends. While your nurturing spirit enhances connections, ensure self-care isn't compromised. You radiate grace in group settings, enjoying diverse activities and fostering ease. Your allure for the unique draws you to like-minded souls, creating a harmonious social presence.

Mars: in the 11th House ignites strong desires and leadership qualities, magnetizing energetic and enterprising friendships. Use caution in choosing the right companions, as you may give too much or inadvertently exploit. Active engagement in group pursuits suits you, inclining towards leadership roles. Your loyal and dynamic nature often makes you the go-to friend, embodying the role of the supportive leader within your circle.

Jupiter: in the 11th House, you thrive through social networks and group dynamics, finding success in business and leadership roles. Your charisma and global outlook make you a natural influencer. While your altruistic drive is commendable, keep aspirations within reach, allowing your positive impact to flourish among friends and the community.

Saturn: in the 11th House brings enduring acquaintances and a sense of duty to purposeful groups. You're drawn to serious connections and work diligently for collective goals, often with limited personal recognition. Patience and hard work lead to later rewards. While feeling distinct might bring challenges, value your unique essence without isolating yourself. Prioritize quality over quantity, nurturing close bonds while overcoming the fear of exclusion.

Uranus: in the 11th House signifies intuitive originality and a strong creative streak, driven by humanitarian ideals. Unconventional friendships with like-minded individuals are common, though you may seem aloof at times. Your rebellious spirit and reformative tendencies stand out, advocating constructive change. Embrace your unique essence, attracting those who resonate with your radical perspectives. Your path is meant to diverge from the ordinary, inspiring transformation.

Neptune: in the 11th House can blur boundaries between self and group, seeking acceptance and compassion within collective ideals. While enjoying group immersion, remember the distinct energy it holds. Your dual nature lets you perceive hidden dynamics, even amid the allure of unity. Empathy guides you, understanding the fine balance between individuality and collective purpose. Cultivate healthy boundaries to avoid being exploited while staying true to your compassionate connections.

Pluto: in the 11th House grants keen awareness of power dynamics within groups, triggering a cautious approach. Sensing motivations and avoiding exploitation becomes second nature. While this can be draining, it shapes a close-knit circle of trusted friends. You may shy away from institutions or new acquaintances due to trust issues. Reconnect with your heart, embrace your uniqueness, and nurture genuine connections that rekindle your spirit.

#astro observations #astro community #astro placements #astrology #all signs #astro notes #for you #asteroid #zodiac placements #astrologer

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espionn · 4 months

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SilkWing tribe sheet!

hey, sorry this took so long. i've been pretty busy. but now there's just one more to go! hope you like the silkwings :)

again, sorry for the color quality. same issue as with the skywings. they look a lot less dull on my end.

Physical Appearance + Traits:

-Like HiveWings’ appearance resembling bees and wasps, SilkWings have the striking traits of butterflies and moths. They have long bodies, large flat wings, bright coloration, and antennae. They are known for being shy and passive.

-SilkWings, uniquely, can be hatched with any coloration under the sun. They are fond of bright colors, and this is reflected in their scales.

-They are approximately average size when compared to Pyrrhian tribes - next to HiveWings, they are noticeably larger, mostly due to their enormous wings. These wings, like butterflies, allow SilkWings to fly, but in a somewhat sporadic way - they cannot glide straight like nearly every other tribe, and wind drafts can easily throw them off-course. They also don’t get their wings until they are 6 years old and undergo metamorphosis - until then, they are wingless.

-Another thing SilkWings gain in metamorphosis is their silk. Glands on their wrists can produce fine, strong strands of it, silvery in color like that of a spider. They use it to build the webs between the hives, which serve as their homes. They also use it to weave tapestries, clothing and other items. A few SilkWings are born with Flanesilk, which comes in multiple forms: firefly silk, which gives off faint light; glow silk, which glows and is warm to the touch; blaze silk, which glows brightly and burns; and sun silk, which hurts to look at directly and can cause extreme fire damage.

-SilkWings are born with a small extra set of limbs, set behind their front legs. These small arms are used to help control and manipulate silk while the arm in front of them produces it; this way, a dragon can still be standing on three legs even while weaving if they really need to be.

-These dragons also have antennae, used to detect subtle vibrations in the air, which can be curled up when not in use or unfurled when they are needed. They can be thin and wiry or huge and feathery, depending on the dragon. Antennae, especially when large and brightly-colored, are sometimes seen as a mark of power and status among SilkWings, and around HiveWings they are encouraged to keep them coiled up and hidden, in order to appear submissive and respectful.

Life Cycle:

-SilkWings lay clutches of 2-6 eggs, quite few when compared to HiveWings. Before their takeover, the tribe would bring up dragonets communally, but parents would still be involved in their dragonets’ lives, and get to watch them grow up. Living in the hives, however, SilkWing parents live with their dragonets and do everything they can to raise them, although all dragonets would attend a HiveWing-run school. If a SilkWing dragonet cannot be taken care of by its parents, it would be raised by HiveWings, and usually with less care and respect.

-SilkWings hatch small and wingless but extremely hungry. During their first few days, they eat more than any other dragonets, and grow remarkably quickly. Their appetite, and growth, slows down after about a month, at which point they are nearly three times their original size. From there, they grow somewhat normally.

-In the SilkWing kingdom, region-wide educational lessons would be held every day. Dragonets would be expected to attend, but adults could too if they so desired. The process was far less standardized and systematic. Living with the HiveWings, though, SilkWing dragonets attend school separate from the HiveWing dragonets (but still run by HiveWings), where everything is strictly organized and scheduled, and usually not in the SilkWings’ favor.

-Of all the tribes in which parents do not strictly raise their own dragonets, SilkWings are the only one in which dragons form partnerships for life. They do not shy away from romantic relationships, but they do have a habit of pursuing them slowly and carefully. They hate nothing more than to have to cut off a blooming relationship.

Society + Culture:

-SilkWings, generally, are considered pacifist and unassertive. Though this is a stereotype, it is not entirely untrue. Their culture does not glorify fighting over peace, and barring flamesilks, they have no unique natural weapons at their disposal. The SilkWing crown passes peacefully from mother to eldest daughter, niece or sister (in that order) in a method completely unique to their tribe.

-Silk is deeply important to their culture; weavings, tapestries, and accessories ranging from cloaks to scarves to legbands are finely crafted and sometimes dyed. Before the Tree Wars, they lived alongside the LeafWings and built their webs in the tree canopies.

-After the Tree Wars, when HiveWings became the dominant tribe, SilkWings had the expectation placed on them that they were quiet, gentle, subservient and unintelligent when compared to HiveWings. Breaking this pattern, and being in any way brash, inflammatory or aggressive leads to much harsher and crueler treatment.

-While in reality they are really not much bigger than HiveWings, SilkWings’ longer bodies and necks, larger wings and long antennae make them appear quite a bit bigger. In order to avoid harassment from guards, they are generally expected to hold their heads low, walk somewhat slowly and keep their wings folded on their backs.

-Before their takeover, SilkWings were actually quite technologically advanced. They had complex silk-weaving techniques and had many uses for the powerful material. The existence of Flamesilks also gave them fire, which makes them the only Pantalan tribes to naturally have it, and they used it to create glass, cook food and keep their webs gently lit at night with firefly silk, though they never cared to dabble in metalwork. (A lot of their ideas and progress in this area, alongside the actual Flamesilks, were stolen by HiveWings during the Tree Wars.)

-SilkWing beauty standards vary depending on the year and season, but in general, bright, bold and unnatural colors are considered the most beautiful and impressive, and wings with bold and intricate patterning are the most striking.

-Their diets need to be carefully balanced between sugar and protein, as they don’t eat meat and rely on specific plants. HiveWings’ attempts to provide them with proper food are usually clumsy, and they usually need to buy food themselves from specific vendors. This discrepancy is part of the reason SilkWings tend to be poorer than HiveWings, on top of being regarded as lower-status.

-Metamorphosis is a hugely important staple in SilkWing culture; they transform in a number of days from wingless and silkless dragonets to flying, silk-spinning adults. The transition is greatly anticipated by all young SilkWings, who will excitedly discuss what their wings might look like and plan all the tapestries they hope to weave. The Hives allow newly-metamorphosed SilkWings one day to one week (depending on the Hive) to celebrate and practice flying before assigning them to their career path or next branch of education for those who are lucky.

Diet: Herbivorous. SilkWings are the only obligate herbivores among dragons. They don’t hunt or eat meat, and could not properly digest it if they tried. They eat a variety of leaves from a variety of plants, including milkweed, parsley and some tree leaves. They also eat roots and stems from some plants, on occasion. Finally, they require some amount of sugar to maintain their energy levels; like HiveWings, they use sugar water, honey, and other treats. (They don’t very often eat fruit, but they will out of necessity if their sugar levels drop too low).

#wings of fire #wof art #wof headcanons #silkwings #my posts

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whencyclopedia · 2 months

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A Brief History of Egyptian Art

Art is an essential aspect of any civilization. Once the basic human needs have been taken care of such as food, shelter, some form of community law, and a religious belief, cultures begin producing artwork, and often all of these developments occur more or less simultaneously. This process began in the Predynastic Period in Egypt (c. 6000 - c. 3150 BCE) through images of animals, human beings, and supernatural figures inscribed on rock walls. These early images were crude in comparison to later developments but still express an important value of Egyptian cultural consciousness: balance.

Egyptian society was based on the concept of harmony known as ma'at which had come into being at the dawn of creation and sustained the universe. All Egyptian art is based on perfect balance because it reflects the ideal world of the gods. The same way these gods provided all good gifts for humanity, so the artwork was imagined and created to provide a use. Egyptian art was always first and foremost functional. No matter how beautifully a statue may have been crafted, its purpose was to serve as a home for a spirit or a god. An amulet would have been designed to be attractive but aesthetic beauty was not the driving force in its creation, protection was. Tomb paintings, temple tableaus, home and palace gardens all were created so that their form suited an important function and, in many cases, this function was a reminder of the eternal nature of life and the value of personal and communal stability.

Early Dynastic Period Art

The value of balance, expressed as symmetry, infused Egyptian art from the earliest times. The rock art from the Predynastic Period establishes this value which is fully developed and realized in the Early Dynastic Period of Egypt (c. 3150 - c. 2613 BCE). Art from this period reaches its height in the work known as The Narmer Palette (c. 3200-3000 BCE) which was created to celebrate the unity of Upper and Lower Egypt under King Narmer (c. 3150 BCE). Through a series of engravings on a siltstone slab, shaped as a chevron shield, the story is told of the great king's victory over his enemies and how the gods encouraged and approved his actions. Although some of the images of the palette are difficult to interpret, the story of unification and the celebration of the king is quite clear.

On the front, Narmer is associated with the divine strength of the bull (possibly the Apis Bull) and is seen wearing the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt in a triumphal procession. Below him, two men wrestle with entwined beasts which are often interpreted as representing Upper and Lower Egypt (though this view is contested and there seems no justification for it). The reverse side shows the king's victory over his enemies while the gods look on approvingly. All these scenes are carved in low-raised relief with incredible skill.

This technique would be used quite effectively toward the end of the Early Dynastic Period by the architect Imhotep (c. 2667-2600 BCE) in designing the pyramid complex of King Djoser (c. 2670 BCE). Images of lotus flowers, papyrus plants, and the djed symbol are intricately worked into the architecture of the buildings in both high and low relief. By this time the sculptors had also mastered the art of working in stone to created three-dimensional life-sized statues. The statue of Djoser is among the greatest works of art from this period.

#History #Akhenaten #AmarnaPeriodofEgypt #AmarnaPeriod #WHE #[#]

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grison-in-space · 3 months

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It's never too late. We are beginning to think about how and why we exploit animals, and how it is not morally consistent with our values; several prominent anarchists and communist bloggers on Tumblr have admitted that veganism is ethically and financially superior on every level, though they don't participate in it, which is sad. All it takes is a little extra work. The collapse of capitalism will also bring the collapse of the animal industry, or vice versa. The meat plants subjugate both humans and animals, causing persistent trauma- in fact, it has the highest rate of trauma among every category of labor. If you support abolition, you should support all abolition: children, psych people, and animals. On a site like Tumblr, we have an opportunity to promote the breakdown of all positions of power. We are all equal.

Honey, you have the wrong fucking blog to the extent that I can only assume you are spamming this message to everyone you think might listen. I have gone on the record several times to say:

I am a pragmatic empiricist. I care much less about ideological consistency than I do about observed outcomes. There are traps there, too—sometimes people get too much into the weeds about observing proxies for desired goals—but essentially I do think that careful observation of the world around me is much more valuable than starting with a consistent ideology and assuming that good intentions will yield good outcomes.

I am motivated by animal welfare. For me, part of that involves meeting animals on their own level, using their own species-specific signals to assess stress and comfort, and understanding animals within their own social context. Therefore,

I am opposed to animal rights narratives that encourage people to project their own imagined emotional responses onto animals without assessing the animals' actual signals in context. Additionally,

I believe as a behavioral ecologist that, for good and for ill, humans are essentially animals participating in a broader ecosystem that includes us. I do not think humans are special or exist outside that broader web, and I think that ecological intervention works most effectively when we see ourselves as part of nature rather than as some kind of twisted unnatural personification of original sin. Conflict and death are part of life. You won't make a better world by pretending otherwise.

I am a disabled person ("psych people?!"), and more specifically an autistic and neurodivergent person. I literally spelled out for you last night that I have difficulties eating and that imposing more barriers to that ("a little extra work") is a significant burden for me. Your easy dismissal of this point is, in context, amazingly and blithely ableist. Wow.

"psych people?!" I am happy to critique coercive psychiatry and medicine more generally, but that one's new on me. If you're not brave enough to use the language of mad/crip pride, are you entirely sure you understand the points of the dialogue? Your demonstrated grasp of disability justice is already extremely poor; this ain't helping.

I am not anti-state (i.e. I am not an anarchist; I am a democratic socialist) and I routinely criticize daydreams about burning entire systems to the ground and replacing them with a vague new system. Those criticisms are usually based in historical analysis of attempts to do exactly that, which have typically resulted in a lot of bloodshed, generally from the most vulnerable people in society. They also often yield a new and not necessarily more egalitarian power structure that continues to oppress people, sometimes more aggressively than the institution preceding it.

For the same reason, I am not a communist. I think communism offers too many opportunities for unscrupulous people to seize power, creating more inequality under the banner of equality itself. Again, this position comes from reading the history of communist states from as many perspectives as I can get my mitts on.

I frequently critique assumptions that capitalism is the only root of social problems. This does not mean that I am pro-capitalism. It means that I think you have to think deeply about problems, especially when it makes you uncomfortable, to understand how to solve them. Many problems that capitalism exacerbates are actually rooted in problems about impulse control (as with Ideas Jerry the other day), basic human social dynamics, emotional regulation, complex traumas, and many other things. You must understand how these problems arise before you can construct a structure that guards against them effectively.

Fundamentally, I think you are probably optimistically spamming this message to anyone that you think will listen. I invite you to consider how effective that is as a tactic to advance your politics: when you pick the wrong person, at best you leave the impression that people serving your ideology are essentially self centered and bad at listening. At worst, you wind up pissing people off enough to sit down and lay out exactly how many points they disagree with you on. Coalitions of solidarity are based on listening carefully to one another and finding the places we agree on; shit like that is antithetical to building them because it sends a very effective signal that you are either very, very bad at listening or uninterested in doing so.

Either way, get out of my house.

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theresstillgrowinghere · 1 month

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I don’t often find I have much to say during chronic illness awareness months anymore. I’m tired. My words feel tired. I don’t feel like I have anything new to add. Sometimes I worry though that that in part comes from my having been in various digital chronic illness spaces for almost a decade. Of course it feels tired to me. There are things that rattle around my brain that feel so obvious and commonplace (and that have been said much more eloquently by others before me) but may still be worth expressing, just judging by the ways people in my life haven’t been able to understand

So for gastroparesis awareness month this year, there are a few things I want to note from my experiences (tw for food/eating, weight without numbers, medical trauma)

1) My relationship with food is so scarred and multifaceted. It is messy and thorny, conflicting and complicated

(I am scared of food. I miss food. I hate food. I want to eat so badly. I never want to think about eating again. Tell me in detail about how it tasted. I love food. Please don’t ask me to join you for a meal. I don’t want to miss the communal aspects of eating. I feel so disconnected and other and separate just because I don’t eat. Sometimes I do try to eat and it makes me sick. Don’t comment on it, please; it’s not helpful to scold or encourage - I feel shame either way)

2) There is no cure. There is only management. I think people understand this in theory more than actuality, because when I say this I mean please, please stop expecting any management option to be The Thing. Please don’t expect something to offer substantial improvement, even if it is a life-saving dramatic change. As I have tried to explain to people in my life, those types of interventions are often complicated and risky and, in our broken healthcare system, very difficult to access until the situation truly is dire and life-threatening. Which can mean that the body takes significant damage before getting there. Sometimes by the time you access the intervention, that damage is irreversible and the goal is just to stop further decline. It’s not making me better; it’s keeping me from getting worse. For some reason that’s difficult for people to understand

(But sometimes people do find what for them is The Thing or are The Things, and that’s an important piece of the whole picture. The problem is the persistence of unrealistic expectations among people around us)

3) My relationship with healthcare is vital but fraught and heavy. I rely on it tremendously just to stay alive. It is also my only in-person access to the world and to people, which is a weird kind of mindfuck. But I am also deeply afraid of it after so many years of trauma. I am terrified of hospitals and medical professionals. I’m sorry for the way that fear makes me irrational, makes me assume, makes me protect myself. I know so many medical professionals are so caring and kind, but it is very, very hard to go into a medical setting trusting that that will be the case

4) There are some things I wish truly were obvious. Like don’t comment on someone’s weight, ever. Don’t say you wish you could “have a little of that” to change your appearance. Don’t try to convince me to “just try to eat a little.” Trust that I know my body best. Don’t offer me unsolicited advice or recommendations. Don’t say “when you get to be my age…” because I will point out that, based on the amount of damage to my body already, it is very possible I will never reach your age. But more to the point, I am not too young to be this sick. It happens

Anyway, these are my 3am-notes-app, camped-out-on-the-bathroom-floor thoughts. It is also important to note that they exist in the context of my gastroparesis being born of and coexisting with my other chronic illnesses, and they all become so deeply entangled

Wishing everyone well. Hoping your August is kind and gentle

To everyone with gastroparesis (and other digestive disorders, really), I’m sorry your tummy hurts, and no, you actually don’t need to be very brave about it. As I heard someone say recently in a different context but definitely applies here as well, “We weren’t born to be fighters. I don’t want to be brave. I want to be okay.” I just want all of us to be okay

#chronic illness #chronically ill #gastroparesis #gastroparesis awareness #medical trauma #feeding tube #tpn #disability

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dirtnapdreamfactory · 4 months

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Sweetest Sin [Part One]

Content Warnings: Priest Kink, Breeding Kink, Corruption Kink, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Female masturbation, Breaking Vows, Abandoned Celibacy, Etc. Etc.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 5.5K

[If this work looks familiar to you, it probably is. I originally had it posted to my old account that has since been deleted, so I am reposting it here.]

The grand archway of the cathedral framed Father Astarion Ancunin, his tall figure casting a shadow against the golden light that spilled from within. Despite being a creature of darkness, he had become an integral part of the town of Emberwood, serving as their shepherd of light. His vampiric nature had initially drawn cautious glances, but the townspeople's faith in him seemed to outweigh their fear. They flocked to the cathedral and found solace in his words, a paradox that the elf would have scoffed at decades ago—a vampire spawn preaching salvation.

"Good evening, Father Astarion," Mr. Tiller called out, his voice warm as he passed by with his family. "Your sermon today was truly moving."

"Thank you," Astarion replied, his smile genuine but unable to reach the depths of his crimson eyes. "Peace be with you."

For a quiet moment, the pale elf held up the silver band on his finger to catch the light, marveling at the small miracle that allowed him to walk under the sun. This ring symbolized not just his commitment to his vows, but also to a life he never thought possible. Each day, the weight of his past sins grew lighter as he embraced his newfound purpose with tentative gratitude.

"Father?" A timid voice broke through his reverie.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Silverleaf." He recognized the couple instantly, their devoutness etched into every line on their faces. "What can I do for you?"

"Your words—they're a balm to our community," The man began, wringing his hat between his work-worn hands. "And…we hate to ask but…well, we've come to ask a favor, if you're willing."

"Of course. Speak freely," The priest encouraged, folding his hands before him in a gesture of openness.

"It’s our daughter... She strays further each day from the path of righteousness," Mrs. Silverleaf confided, her voice laced with worry. "She has no care for piety or decency."

"Her soul, we fear, is in peril," her husband added, his gaze pleading.

"Would you speak with her, Father?" The woman asked. "Perhaps guide her back to the ways of the faithful?"

The couple's words hung heavy in the air, a weight that Astarion couldn't quite shake off. He knew his duty was to guide and correct those who strayed from the path of righteousness, but the thought of speaking with you, their fierce and free-spirited daughter, filled him with conflicting emotions.

On one hand, he felt a sense of obligation and responsibility towards your soul, which they clearly feared was in jeopardy. But on the other hand, the memory of you tore through his mind like a stormy sea, tempting him with desires he had vowed to renounce.

The request coiled tightly around his heart. The memory of that first night that he had laid eyes upon you surged forward, unbidden and wild. It had been a chance encounter at the tavern, where he had gone to seek solitude among the clamor of tankards and low-burning hearths. You had burst through the door, a vision of ferocious vitality, your presence so startling that even the rowdy din of the establishment had hushed for a brief moment. There you had stood, cloaked in the glory of your conquest—a deer, by the looks of your spoils—and had commanded attention with the ease of one who knew their own power.

"Talia, go fetch Lorrick! And tell the cook to get his shit together, yeah? We're having fuckin' venison tonight!" you’d declared, voice rich with triumph.

Astarion couldn't help but watch you, his eyes tracing the line of sweat that made a glistening path down the column of your neck. Each droplet reflected the light from the hearth, casting a warm glow on your skin. Your soft hair cascaded messily down your back and beckoned his fingers to explore its texture. The sight of you- so raw and vibrant - was like a sharp blade to his senses, breaking through the protective walls he had built around his chastity.

"Father, will you not try?"

The distant echo of Mrs. Silverleaf's voice pulled Father Astarion back to the present, interrupting his thoughts. He nodded absently, his mind still consumed by the image of your mischievous smirk. Despite his inner turmoil, he affirmed to the couple that he would speak with their daughter, a wave of heat flushing his cheeks at the thought.

"God bless you," Mrs. Silverleaf and her husband intoned together, their sincerity in stark contrast to the hunger gnawing at Astarion's resolve.

"Peace be with you," he replied hollowly, his own words drowned out by the cacophony of conflicting emotions within him.

As the couple disappeared from view, Father Astarion turned back to face the sacred confines of the cathedral. Its cool silence offered no refuge from the heat that still coursed through him, memories of his struggle against temptation flashing through his mind. He had whispered fervent prayers and battled against his desires for flesh and sinew that night at the tavern.

"Forgive me," he muttered to the empty pews, unsure if his words were meant for his deity or for himself. His duty was clear - to meet with the girl and guide her towards the light. But as the sunset painted the stained glass windows in fiery shades of red and gold, Astarion couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to enter a battle for which he may never be fully prepared.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and called upon every ounce of divine strength to fortify his spirit. He would offer counsel to this wayward lamb and do his best to protect her from darkness. But as he locked up the church and began to trudge his way towards your home, nestled at the far edge of town, he couldn't deny the thrill of forbidden excitement coursing through his veins, like a fire burning just beneath his skin. Though he knew that this could prove to be a rather dangerous task, one that could potentially lead him down a path of temptation and ruin...for the sake of your immortal soul, he was willing to take the risk.

The dying embers of the day cast a warm, orange hue over the town as Astarion tread softly along the dirt trail, his boots pressing into the uneven ground scattered with pebbles and twigs. The outskirts where you resided was tranquil, the only sounds were his solitary footsteps and the distant chirping of crickets. He could see your home now, a quaint cottage that seemed to be in a perpetual embrace with the encroaching forest. The air was scented with damp earth and the sweet tang of herbs that hung from an overhang, swaying gently in the evening breeze.

"Ms. Silverleaf, it's Father Astarion," he called with measured calmness, rapping knuckles against the wooden door. His voice felt strangely intrusive in the stillness. "Your mother and father bid me to speak with you."

Silence greeted him, thick and unyielding. He knocked again, a little louder, allowing authority to lace his tone. "Ms. Silverleaf, please. This is a rather important matter."

The quiet persisted, and a frown teased at the edge of his lips. 'Perhaps she is out,' he thought, but something about the soft glow from within your home suggested otherwise. He reached for the doorknob, finding it unlocked. A moment's hesitation lingered like a warning. With a breath to steady himself, he pushed open the door and stepped into the muted warmth of the interior.

"Y/N?" he ventured again, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the door behind him.

Before him, the small fire in the hearth crackled its last dance, casting flickering shadows across the room. Astarion scanned the space, noting the absence of any presence. His gaze fell on the simple furnishings, the homely touches that bespoke a life lived simply yet fully. In that moment, he felt like an intruder in your world, privy to a privacy not his own.

His ears, sharper than most, caught the faintest sound—a rustle, a breath hitched in distress. His dead heart sank. 'Might the girl have injured herself?' The concern edged his thoughts as he moved silently, his steps practiced and light. The noises grew clearer, more defined, and his pace quickened with a mix of worry and something less definable.

"Y/N," he called out softly, reaching the slightly ajar door from behind which the sounds emanated. With the utmost care, he nudged it further open, just enough to allow his eyes to seek out the source of the commotion.

He stood motionless, his hand still resting on the door, as the scene within unfolded before him.

His eyes widened, the crimson depths reflecting a scene of forbidden desire. There in the dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the scent of sweat and desperation, you writhed upon your simple bed—a vision of unbridled sensuality.

"Gods above," he murmured under his breath, unable to tear his gaze from the sight. His voice was a mere whisper, lost amidst the symphony of your pleasure.

Your small fingers danced along the slick folds of your sex, each movement deliberate and hungry. Lustful whines escaped your lips in ragged sighs and your moans pierced Astarion's heart like an arrow. You were yet unaware of his presence, lost in your own world of ecstasy.

"Y/N," he finally managed to say, louder this time, but the plea in his voice was drowned by your cries. You did not hear him, or if you did, you gave no indication, consumed as you were by your own touch.

'Stop,' he thought desperately, 'you mustn't witness this.' But his body betrayed him, rooted to the spot, drinking in the sight of you. The heat that had been kindling within him since he'd first laid eyes on you now blazed uncontrollably.

He watched, transfixed, as your back arched, your breasts rising and falling with each labored breath. The soft mounds were flushed with arousal, your nipples taut and begging for attention. Your other hand alternated between caressing your breast and pinching your rose-colored nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body.

"Please," you gasped, the word a prayer for release. "I need... I can't..."

Father Astarion felt a surge of protectiveness, intermingled with a darker, hungrier sensation. He knew that he, a man of the cloth, should not be standing there, should not be watching this intimate act of self-pleasure, yet he found himself entranced by your uninhibited display.

"Is this what you seek?" he asked silently, the question for himself more than you. "To be the one to push her over that edge?"

His blood roared in his ears, drowning out the remnants of piety that screamed for him to leave. There was a battle raging within him, between his vows and the yearning to step forward—to replace your hands with his own, to taste the salt on your skin, to hear his name on your lips instead of the silent gods you seemed to be reaching for.

Another whimper, more tortured than the last, pulled him from his daze. He took a half-step backward, the creak of the wooden floorboard underfoot sounding like thunder in the quiet room. Astarion’s throat was dry, his body tense with longing.

"Forgive me," he whispered, turning his face away, though his eyes betrayed him, sliding back for another glimpse that lasted far too long. "Forgive me..."

His breath hitched, a silent witness to the carnal symphony playing out before him. Shadows clung to the corners of the dimly lit chamber as the fading light of day bathed your writhing form in an ethereal glow. Your fingers, slick and unyielding, danced fervently within yourself, your movements both desperate and deliberate. The decadent chorus of your pleasure—a blend of wet, rhythmic sounds—sent involuntary tremors through his body.

"Gods... yes, just like that, please..." Your voice was broken and full of lust, a prayer for release that echoed off the walls.

He swallowed thickly, the taste of his restraint bitter on his tongue. His hands, traitorous and curious, sought the heat beneath his breeches, and he winced at the contact – a touch both foreign and achingly familiar. The sensation clawed at his resolve, tearing at the fabric of his vows.

"Ah... A-Astarion..." you moaned, your voice slowly morphing into a sinful incantation - a desperate plea to the heavens, or perhaps to the depths below. His name rolled off your lips like a sacrilegious mantra, stoking that fire within him into something unbearable.

"Gods above…," he whispered under his breath, a ghost of words lost amid the melody of your solitary passion. Envy gnawed at him, its sharp teeth sinking into his heart as you envisioned another, even if that other bore his visage.

"Please... Fuck - ruin me..." you begged the illusion, your back arching, your body tightly stretched like a bowstring. The priest within him recoiled, but the man, the primal creature lurking beneath the clerical collar, stirred from its slumber.

"Enough," He hissed to himself, his conviction giving way to carnal desire. He could no longer be a mere observer, a passive guardian of sanctity. As you called out for him, in flesh or fantasy, he felt that familiar longing within him awaken. With a growl, he shed his clerical collar and entered the room with purpose. This was no longer a soft tread of uncertainty, but the confident steps of a man who knew what he wanted. You needed him, craved him, and he... he needed this. Gods above, he needed this.

"Ms. Silverleaf," he said louder now, his voice cutting through the haze of your ecstasy.

Your eyes snapped open, bright and piercing, locking onto his deep, vermillion gaze. Your silky hair cascaded around your face as you stilled, your body drawn with anticipation. In that moment, your eyes were a tangle of fire and gold, two stars colliding and igniting a blaze that consumed you both. Your stillness was a bird poised on the edge of a branch, ready to take flight at the slightest movement. And in that moment, the question hung in the air like a forbidden fruit, tempting and dangerous: Which would it be? Salvation or damnation?

"F-Father Astarion," you breathed, a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and something...darker. Something hungry .

The pale elf stood tall and imposing in the dimly lit room, his pastoral leash discarded and forgotten on the floor. The light streamed through the window, catching the soft curls of his silver hair and casting an intimidating glow in his intense eyes. You laid bare before him, a true vision of ethereal beauty - your pleading eyes and wild hair fanned out around you, nearly forming a halo around your glistening, desperate form.

"Tell me, my child," He began, his voice low and steady, "What manner of evil has reduced you to this? A whimpering, sodden mess baring yourself so shamelessly before a man of God?"

"Please, Father...I-I’m so sorry. Please…p-please help me," You whimpered, your voice soft as velvet.

"Of course, child," His voice was a soothing balm, yet it was wrought with an undercurrent of something depraved. "Would you have me guide you in prayer, to cleanse these wicked ideations from your soul?"

Your head shook, a silent bell tolling 'no'. His gaze never left you, sharp and probing as he began to unfasten his shirt, each button relinquishing its hold with deliberate slowness. The pale flesh beneath his priestly attire came into view - his lean, muscular body sending a sharp jolt to your needy cunt.

"Or perhaps," he continued, his tone laced with concern, "you'd prefer I summon the physician? They might concoct a remedy for your... afflictions ."

As he circled the bed, the air around you charged with unsaid words, he grazed your cheek with his knuckles, the touch feather-light yet scorching. Your skin burned under his caress, your heat evident to his discerning touch.

"Ah, you are quite warm," he murmured, almost to himself. He leaned closer, his breath fanning your face as he tenderly pushed away strands of hair that had clung to your dampened forehead. "What then, my dear, do you seek from me?"

You swallowed thickly, your body betraying your desires with a soft whimper. "I don't need a doctor, Father," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Then what?" Astarion whispered back, his proximity intoxicating.

Your breath hitched; you bit down on your lower lip, trapping it between your teeth. In a voice suffused with shame and longing, you uttered the words, "Touch me."

Astarion clicked his tongue, a reprimand and a tease all at once. "You know that is not possible. My vows..." He let the sentence hang, unfinished, yet heavy with implication.

But desire was a siren's call, relentless and seductive. As your fingers resumed their salacious dance, the soft wet sounds that they made reached his ears, sending a bolt of raw need through him. He watched, transfixed, his body responding despite his resolve.

"Is this a habit of yours?" he asked, his voice husky with restrained passion.

"No," you breathed out, your movements unabated.

"Has another taught you such pleasures?" His inquiry was both invasive and achingly tender.

"N-no. Never," you admitted, your voice tinged with innocence and discovery.

He hummed, acknowledging your confession. "There is much to learn about one's own flesh... to understand what brings pleasure, what stirs the soul."

"Please," you gasped, your plea floating between you like a fragile leaf caught in a tempest. "Help me, Father... Show me how to feel good..."

"Perhaps," he whispered, his voice a thread of silk amidst the tension, "a slight... guidance would not be deemed sacrilegious." The words felt foreign on his tongue, like a dark incantation that could unravel the very fabric of his being.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, as if absorbing the gravity of what he proposed. Your lips parted in a silent plea, your desire an unspoken prayer that beckoned him closer.

With reverent trepidation, he extended his hand, the silhouette of his fingers ghosting over the valley of your chest before descending. The heat of your skin seared his palm as he cupped your heavy breast, feeling its softness yield beneath his touch. Your sharp intake of breath was both a torment and a balm to his conflicted soul.

"Ah..." you sighed, a delicate sound that underscored the urgency of this illicit communion.

Astarion allowed himself a moment to marvel at the responsiveness of your body, the way your flesh puckered against the chilled air, inviting his thumb to graze over the tight peak of your nipple. To him, it was the first transgression – a tactile whisper that spoke volumes of forbidden pleasures yet explored.

His hand trailed lower, a painstaking journey across the landscape of your ribcage, the undulating terrain of your belly, each movement deliberate, a testament to the restraint he fought to maintain. It was an artist's touch, painting strokes of fire upon your canvas of anticipation.

"May I?" The question hung between you, laden with consequences yet to unfold. His eyes sought yours, seeking absolution in their depths. Your gaze held his, fierce and unyielding—a mirror reflecting your shared hunger.

"Please," you breathed, the single word a key turning in the lock of his resolve.

His fingers, cold and steady, grazed the small of your waist, drawing your attention away from his eyes to the point of contact. You shuddered as his touch met the sensitive skin just above your hips. His fingers traced the delicate curve of your pelvis, kneading it gently, exploring your body with the reverence of a man discovering the wonders of the world for the first time.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of your hip. "Sinfully so, darling. But your wants, your needs... they are only human."

Astarion's eyes lingered on the curve of your hips, tracing the silhouette of your form with his gaze. The desire within him threatened to consume him whole, promising to both destroy and purify. He knew that once he crossed this line, there would be no going back. You were both aware of the weight of your transgression, heavy like a shroud about your limbs.

But your voice broke the silence, another soft plea that cracked the veneer of control he had so meticulously constructed. "Please," you begged, your voice trembling.

His fingers found you, hesitant at first, exploring the soft folds that lay between your legs. The air was heavy with the scent of arousal and anticipation, a heady cocktail that intoxicated you both. Astarion was no stranger to the touch of a woman, but this was different. This was sacrilegious. He could feel the weight of his vows bearing down upon him, threatening to suffocate him, but he persisted.

Your body tensed at his touch, the resistance only serving to heighten his desire. As he continued to explore you, he whispered softly into your ear, "You are allowed to feel pleasure, sweet girl. It's alright..."

Your breath hitched as his fingers delved deeper, your body arching against him in response. He could feel the heat radiating from your core, the pulsing life within you behind the delicate tissue that covered your being. He had never felt anything so alive, so vital, so right.

His fingers continued their exploration, sliding gently against your skin, tracing the pathways of your desire. Every touch was a caress, a promise, a confirmation that you were real, that you were there, and that he was not alone in this sin.

As his fingers continued their journey, he felt a surge of pure lust wash over him. He knew that he could not resist any longer. He needed to feel you, to possess you. He needed to experience the fullness of your passion and the sinful pleasures that awaited him.

He could feel your heart racing, your breaths becoming short and ragged as he touched you. Every touch, every brush of his fingers against your skin sent electricity coursing through his veins.

"Gods," you keened, your voice a desperate plea for release as he slowly sunk his middle and ring finger into your tight channel. Your body trembled, and you pressed yourself against him, urging him to continue.

Astarion released a long, shuddering breath. This was madness, this transgression. But the need was far too strong, too powerful.

His pale skin almost seemed to shimmer as he shifted his position on the bed. His scarlet eyes, usually so intense and piercing when preaching from the pulpit, were now dark with lust as they focused on your form laid out before him. The contrast between you was stark—him, the embodiment of forbidden restraint, and you, the very image of uninhibited desire.

"Father," you panted, your voice a sultry melody that tugged at the most carnal parts of him, "please..."

He slid his fingers deeper, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. The sight of your pleasure, the way you arched beneath his touch, drew a low groan from Astarion's throat. He was no longer the vampiric preacher who had given his life to God and vowed celibacy; he was a man, flesh and blood, driven by primal urges he could no longer deny. Your scent filled his senses, intoxicatingly sweet, and it sparked a curiosity that overshadowed all rational thought.

"Gods, I shouldn't..." He murmured, more to himself than to you, but the words died in his mouth as his tongue dared to taste the honeyed sweetness of your center. The flavor burst upon his senses—a delectable mix of sin and innocence—and his groan vibrated against your sensitive skin. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated need.

"M-more...please..don't stop," You encouraged breathlessly, your eyes half-closed, hands finding their way into his silver curls, urging him closer.

Astarion complied, his once-hesitant licks becoming more insistent, delving into your folds with fervor. The holy man within him screamed for repentance, for restraint, but he was drowned out by the carnal beast that had been awakened. With each stroke of his tongue and curl of his fingers, he mapped out every contour of your dripping cunt, committing your responses to memory like sacred scripture.

"Ah, Astarion," you moaned, a symphony to his ears.

"Y/N," he whispered against you, his voice husky with passion, "you taste positively divine ."

As he continued to worship at the altar of your body, the church bells of propriety and oath rang distant, irrelevant. In this moment, there was only you and the undeniable truth that you were bound by something far stronger than doctrine. The friction of his fingers inside of you, coupled with the relentless pursuit of his tongue, stoked a flame within you that threatened to consume you both.

"Father," you gasped, your plea a beautiful litany, "Aah - Gods, yes.."

Your hips bucked beneath him, the fierce desire in your eyes melting into a tempest of ecstasy. The supple flesh of your sex clenched around his fingers, and the sight of it, the feel of it, sent a shiver down his spine. The moments of hesitation were a blur in the past, all that remained was the hunger between you, the natural dance of bodies, the silent pleas for release.

He felt that familiar throb of anticipation, the prelude to a world of pleasure and sin. It would be a fall from grace, a transgression of the utmost magnitude. But he knew, deep down, that his heart would break if he denied you the satisfaction you so desperately craved.

He could feel the tension within your body, the resistance slowly fading away as you came closer to the edge. Your breaths, once short and gasping, now deep and labored as you allowed yourself to fully succumb to sinful bliss.

His fingers, still buried inside of you, crescendoed their rhythm, matching the tempo of your heartbeat. He traced the swell of your clitoris with his thumb and lapped at the nectar that spilled from you, staining his lips with its sweetness.

"Astarion," you whispered, your voice a low, sultry moan. "Please, I need more."

He understood. He needed more, too. He plunged his fingers deep within you once more, eliciting a scream of unadulterated pleasure. The supple flesh of your sex clenched and spasmed around him, and the sight of it, the feel of it, drew a deep growl from within his chest.

His breath was a harsh rasp, his every sense alight with the raw scent of desire that rose from your flushed skin. Withdrawing his hand and mouth from your quivering, wet warmth, he couldn't help but admire the sheen of arousal that coated him, a decadent gloss that marked his sin as much as it did his yearning. He gazed upon you, reclined and panting, through eyes hazed with lust, finding you all the more enchanting for the sweat that painted your delicious curves.

"Look at you," he murmured, voice laced with both reproof and undeniable affection, "such a greedy little thing."

His fingers, still trembling with the remnants of your pleasure, worked at the ties of his breeches with a deftness born of necessity—this shedding of his final vestment felt like the peeling away of his last vow. The fabric fell away, pooling around his knees before he kicked them off, discarding the cloth and constraint alike into a forgotten pile on the floor.

Bare now before you, the dying light cast shadows across his lean form, playing over the muscles that tensed with anticipation. His heavy, aching cock stood proud, a testament to their forbidden ardor, twitching as though it had a life of its own, the tip shining with evidence of his need.

"Can you handle more?" he asked, his voice a low growl that vibrated in the charged air between you. It wasn't just a question of your endurance; it was a challenge to his self-control, a plea for absolution for the hot sin you were about to commit.

Your response was caught in your throat, your eyes wide as you drank in the sight of him. In your gaze, Astarion saw the war between lust and trepidation—yet when you swallowed, it not only discarded your fears but also his lingering doubts.

"Please," you whispered, your voice thick with want. "Take me... I want to be yours."

The words crashed into him like a wave, sweeping away the last of his restraint. A part of him—the man who had clung to his faith amidst a sea of past temptations—whispered that this was the point of no return. But another part, deeper, more primal, rejoiced in the offering you presented.

"Then mine you shall be," he vowed, his mind afire with images of your union, of how he would fill you, stretch you, consume your essence until there was no distinguishing where one ended and the other began.

As he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against your slick heat, he felt the weight of years of celibacy poised on the brink of oblivion. His heavy balls tightened, aching with the promise of release, the need to claim and be claimed overwhelming him.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Yes," came your breathless reply.

And with that single word, Astarion surrendered, gently pushing forward and guiding himself into your tight warmth with a slow, deliberate thrust.

You gasped as his girth split your virgin pussy, your body writhing beneath him, a silent plea for more. Astarion pushed in deeper, sinking slowly into you…inch by agonizing inch until you felt his balls press against the tender flesh of your ass. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a divine mix of pain and pleasure that sent shivers down your spine.

"Ohh, Gods above ...you're so tight, little one" he whispered, pulling back just enough to tease your entrance and admire the pink ring of your ruined maidenhood around his shaft before plunging himself into your core once more.

You moaned, your hands clawing at his back, urging him on. “Mmf! Ahh…d-don't stop, please..."

Astarion groaned, his hips bucking urgently against you. He wanted to savor this moment, to take his time, but the beast within him demanded satisfaction. He shifted his angle, his cock rubbing at that sweetest spot inside of you just right as his crown pressed rough kisses against your cervix over and over again, and you cried out in pleasure and pain.

"Ahhh - fuck ," you cried, your voice a mixture of ecstasy and anguish, "Gods, it's too much...I can't-”

"Yes you can," Astarion whispered reassuringly, his breath hot against your ear. He thrust faster, harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound. "You're taking me so well, sweet girl. Being so very good for me..."

Your body arched beneath him, your nails digging into his back as you climaxed hard, your orgasm hitting you like a whirlwind of bliss and agony.

Astarion felt your muscles clench around him, a vice-like grip that threatened to pull him under. His release was imminent, and he knew that once it came, there would be no turning back.

His thrusts became more frantic, the need to conquer your petite body overtaking him. Each movement was a battle, each thrust a plea, each twitch of his manhood a promise. He could feel the sweat dripping from his forehead.

"Forgive me," he grunted, his voice strained, his voice echoing your pleas from earlier. "I just can't control myself around you..."

You let out a needy, lustful whimper as your overstimulated body trembled beneath him, matching his rhythm as you reached once more for the edge of a new kind of bliss you had never known.

"I don't want you to control yourself," you huffed. "I want to feel every bit of you inside me."

Astarion groaned, his eyes rolling back as he plunged into you with reckless abandon, his cock twitching and pulsing within your snug hole. He felt your walls tighten around him, milking him for everything he had to offer. This was it; this was the moment. He knew that once he emptied himself inside of you, he would be lost in you forever. With a desperate cry, he buried himself to the hilt inside of your molten core, stuffing you completely with his thick, neglected manhood as his seed flooded and filled you, a substantial overflow seeping from where you remained joined - a testament to your sinful union.

As he collapsed onto you, his breathing came in ragged gasps. You lay beneath him, your eyes closed, face flushed with the afterglow of your lovemaking. You felt his cock twitching inside of you, still wrapped around him in a tight grip from your shared ecstasy.

He could feel your heart racing beneath him. This was not merely sex or desire; this was something forever altered, indelible in your souls. As your bodies calmed from their fervor, he found himself still nestled within your warmth, where he belonged.

He knew that to stay burrowed within you would be to invite temptation's final caress, but he could not make himself retreat. Not now, not ever. You were his now, and he was yours; there was no turning back...

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion smut #priest!astarion

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ink-flavored · 3 months

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Urban Fantasy Culture World-Building

There are a lot of different creatures in my anthologies, each with a unique culture. I thought I would take the time to outline them all here, both as a reference for myself, but also as a fun guide to how I might be able to make my characters defy their culture in the anthology stories I write. You can also find this and more on my Neocities site! Unnamed Urban Fantasy Anthology Taglist (Check out my Google Form to get added): @foxys-fantasy-tales @auroblaze @thelaughingstag @auntdarth @damageinkorporated

Human

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

We’re those! Nice! 👍

Culturally, most humans value variety in life and social groups, making the most of their adaptive qualities. They’re some of the most likely to mingle in other creatures’ cultures, whether it’s to learn, or just to try the food.

Elf

Always born with the ability to use magic

Pointy-eared, long-lived humanoids with strong connections to magic

Culturally, most elves encourage an interest in study, invention, and creation to make the most of their long lives. Education is highly prized and encouraged, in anything from science to art to history. Their birth rates are some of the lowest among all creatures, so the rare biological family unit tends to be close-knit and cultural expectations are high for the few children that are born.

Dwarf

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Short, bearded, subterranean humanoids

Culturally, most dwarves enjoy showing off their prowess in working metals, stone, and gems, or otherwise focus on perfecting a specific craft. Making a trade into a career is highly prioritized, and competition in various dwarf markets is fierce. Still, some prefer to keep their crafts as private hobbies, not feeling a need to prove themselves in business—their skill is self-evident, after all.

Orc

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Large, tusked humanoids

Culturally, most orcs foster strong social bonds, value strength of character, and individual deeds. They put a large emphasis on community and family, and many orc social groups have regular family reunions with “talent shows” that allow each orc to show off something they’ve mastered since the last reunion.

Dragonfolk

Always born with the ability to use magic

Large humanoids with draconic features and fire breath

Culturally, most dragonfolk enjoy building collections of personally valuable objects and boast of their exploits as a form of social bonding. Those collections can range from the traditional gold and jewelry to a hoard of tourist trap knick-knacks, and the larger collection the better. Similarly, social boasting can range from personal achievement to the achievements of those close to you. Some dragonfolk like to boast that they hoard things to boast about. This usually gets an eyeroll.

Gnome

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Short, subterranean humanoids with a close relationship to nature

Culturally, most gnomes carefully craft gardens of fungi or flowers, and tend to live their lives slow and unbothered. They’re another creature commonly found scattered among the cultures of others, glad to share and eager to befriend any who cross their path.

Halfling

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Short, ground-dwelling humanoids

Culturally, most halflings value food and entertainment in extravagant fashion. Social propriety is also highly valued in many halfling spaces, and declining invitations to social events is gossip-worthy news. Each of those social events aims to be bigger and more bombastic than the last, taking any excuse to celebrate something.

Satyr

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Humanoid creatures with goat legs, ears, horns, and other features

Culturally, most satyrs value a “fast life” full of partying and constant recreation. From the outside, it seems as though many satyrs simply don’t care about taking life seriously, but those who party argue an emphasis on amusement is taking it seriously. Life is tough, so satyrs make joy whenever and however they can. Even comparatively more buttoned-up satyrs have at least one area they can completely let loose in.

Centaur

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Horse from the waist down and human from the waist up

Culturally, most centaurs emphasize close herd ties, community leadership, and helping your own. Commonly, centaur herds move nomadically around a few central locations, where trust and mutual aid is vital. Leadership roles are taken extremely seriously, and knowing when to step down into a follower’s role is applauded, not shamed.

Shapeshifter

Always born with the ability to use magic

Can be literally any of these things and more

Shapeshifters tend to assimilate with whichever culture they grow up nearest to, but in shapeshifter-only communities, they tend to value spontaneity and philosophy—they exist in both a solid and fluid state of self. Many shapeshifters find themselves unable to relate to the solidity of other creatures, or have been shamed for their abilities and refusal to just “pick something.” Cultures that value transience, like naiads, gnomes, and satyrs, tend to be more welcoming to shapeshifters than others.

Naga

Always born with the ability to use magic

Giant snake-people with arms and other humanoid features

Culturally, most naga are solitary with carefully curated routines. Their families can be very large, but naga children are encouraged to seek independence at a very early age, depending on their upbringing. Because many nagas enter brumation in the winter, the dedication to routine includes making space for rest and recuperation. Many consider it a necessary isolation, to recoup the energy to go on.

Minotaur

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Bull from the chest up, human from the chest down, and a bull’s tail

Culturally, most minotaur value privacy and not speaking unless they have something “valuable” to add to a conversation. This “value” is dependent on the individual, and can extend to career paths and decisions in life as well. Some minotaurs will (very subtly) bicker over which values in life are most important, both to strengthen their own arguments and to challenge others’.

Vampire

Nobody is born a vampire, they’re created from bites or curses

An undead creature that subsists off the blood of living creatures

Magic ability is based on which creature they were born as

Most vampires continue to practice the cultural values they had in their lives, but vampire-only communities tend to organize around supporting each other in undeath, and how blood-sucking might be a downside of a second chance at life, but a “living” life has consequences too. In a way, an undeath is a second chance, and many vampires aim to make the most of it, despite their circumstances.

Werewolf

Nobody is born a werewolf, they’re created from bites or curses

Look exactly like themselves until the full moon, upon which they mutate into a large wolf creature that is compelled to rampage until the next day

Magic ability is based on which creature they were born as

Most werewolves continue to practice the cultural values they had before they were turned, but werewolf-only communities tend to emphasize “necessary rage” and never holding back emotion. To some, becoming a werewolf is freeing, giving them an excuse to express “unsightly” emotions their cultures might encourage them to suppress.

Catfolk

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Humanoid cat creatures; can share the patterns and qualities of domestic or wild cats

Culturally, most catfolk encourage pride and self-indulgence. Walking away from situations you find unpleasant, or even unstimulating, is encouraged. Taking entire days for yourself to do something you enjoy or simply lounge around is a common pastime. There’s less pressure among catfolk to “give back” their communities, and more communal cultures can clash with catfolk because of this.

Dryad

Always have the ability to use magic

Humanoid tree creatures; can share qualities from any one type of tree

They aren’t “born,” they’re grown from other dryad seeds

Culturally, most dryads emphasize a slow, cautious life and meditation on any big decision. Impulsivity and recklessness is frowned upon, but as some of the longest-lived creatures in the world, doing something “impulsive” can vary wildly from other cultures’ expectations. Many dryads who spend time with other cultures are often shocked when creatures spend hours—not weeks or months—contemplating their choices. Others are unsurprised—other creatures simply don’t have the time to be as contemplative as a tree. Whether this is sympathy or pity can vary.

Naiad

Always have the ability to use magic

Humanoid water creatures

They aren’t “born,” they’re created through rituals with enchanted water

Culturally, most naiads value transience in relationships and transparency in emotions—never sticking too closely to one thing, but never lying about their intentions. Because they’re inherently magical, naiads use magic for everything from practicality to play. Magic puzzles and illusions are common forms of entertainment, and even as forms of education. And, of course, many naiads find it amusing to toy with other creatures who try to find their communities, distracting them with said puzzles until they prove themselves or give up.

Fairy

Always born with the ability to use magic

Humanoid creatures with thin, butterfly-adjacent wings and colorful hair and eyes

Culturally, most fairies value politeness and gift-giving, especially if the gift is handmade or somehow personal. Their communities are very close-knit, but have often near-inscrutable social constraints to outsiders. Even between different communities of fairies, the social code is practically a different language and impacts everything from terms of address to which spells may be cast in public vs private spaces.

Harpy

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Humanoids with wings for arms and a bird’s legs; can share patterns and qualities of any bird

Culturally, most harpies encourage freedom and independence from a young age and throughout life. The ability to fly allows them to travel much farther and with greater ease than most other creatures, so travel is a very big “rite of passage” in lots of harpy societies. Social dances are also given great importance, most often for romance, but there are plenty of dances for friendship, formal events, apologies, celebration, and even sympathy for another’s grief.

Merfolk

Always born with the ability to use magic

Human from the waist up and a sea creature from the waist down; can share qualities with any one sea creature

Culturally, most merfolk value community connections, mutual aid, and teamwork. Merfolk that share traits with fish tend to live in schools, traveling around the sea nomadically. Others that share traits with sharks or octopi tend to be solitary, staying in one area of the sea, with close ties to other merfolk that live near them, or schools that pass by. Their vocal hypnosis is used to hunt, and schools that hunt often use simultaneous hypnosis to disorient their prey before going in for the kill. In schools, the young and the elderly always eat first, followed by the rest.

Aetheridum (pl) / Aetherid (s)

Regular people (of any creature type) can have Aetheridum children if they’re blessed by whatever gods exist in this world, or if the kid is a gift they prayed for, or as a reward for devotion. No matter what their parents are, the magic kids have metallic skin, will eventually grow wings (even if they already have them), and have an intense penchant for magic

They aren’t literally “angels come to earth” but people speculate that they’re earthly incarnations of aether-creatures, or even fragments of gods themselves

The intensity of that magic gift varies between individuals, but they are the only creature that doesn’t experience the magical “atrophy” that every other creature does. They have an intense magical capacity from birth, to the point where they may warp the magic energies around them without realizing, and cause it to fire off without actually casting any spells

This can be both positive and negative. One the one hand, having a high magical capacity means a much easier time learning spells, casting them, and managing the energy output. On the other, choosing not to pursue any magical training means that any Aetherid can potentially be setting off magic flashbangs, wherever they go, by complete accident, for the rest of their lives. Most parents put their Aetheridum kids in magical training as early as possible due to this outcome, but not all of them do, and not all of the children stay in training.

Despite being a literal godly blessing, the magical capability can be somewhat of a curse too. Recruitment for their magical gifts is extremely high in scientific and medical fields, and many are pushed into high-skill, high-stress jobs for the sake of “not wasting their gifts.” There has been plenty of literature and study on the subject of just how much more beneficial an Aetherid is to any particular work environment, if at all—a high magical capacity doesn’t mean anything about how well you use it. Most find that the same jobs can be easily done with non-Aetheridum workers with standard or even low magical capacities, just not to the same degree of power. Unfortunately, these unfavorable results are often swept under the rug for the sake of maintaining the “usefulness” of this blessed class of creature.

D’infernyssh (pl) / D’infern (s)

In the same way some children can be blessed, some can be cursed. If the parents make a foul pact, corrupt themselves with forbidden magic, or anger a vengeful deity, they can give birth to a D’infern. These children are almost a direct inverse of Aetheridum, born with metallic skin, eventually growing batlike wings, and always have a curse to bear

Similar to the speculation about Aetheridum, the D’infernyssh aren’t literally demons, but could possibly be incarnations of godly rage or corrupted godlike creatures

The curses placed on the D’infernyssh are always related to the siphoning of emotions or sensations from those around them to survive. “Real” food doesn’t nourish them in the slightest, though they do experience hunger. They describe cravings for feelings the same way any other might describe a craving for soup or fancy steak.

The types of curses known to the world are: pleasure, rest, anger, sadness, joy, envy, pain, affection, fear, pride, disgust, and curiosity.

For any non-D’infernyssh, simply being in the presence of a hungry D’infern who eats the emotion or sensation you’re feeling is all it takes for it to be slowly drained away. For example, if you feel curious about something around a D’infern that eats curiosity, you’ll slowly become less interested in it until you find it altogether uninteresting. Once the D’infern isn’t hungry, the draining stops, and your emotions become your own again. However, eating feelings doesn’t work like gaining nutrients from food, and unless the D’infern gets a big “meal” from either an intense emotional state or multiple people experiencing the same emotion at once, they often need to “eat” more than 3 times a day.

Most parents with D’infernyssh children can’t tell if they have a D’infern or an Aetherid at the beginning of the child’s life. Because they both have metallic skin and their wings don’t sprout until puberty, it’s very easy to confuse one for the other unless you know why your child was born with platinum skin. Due to this confusion, many D’infernyssh are malnourished until they can communicate what they need to survive.

There are tests that can be given to potential Aetheridum or D’infernyssh children to pick out which one is which, but it does require the parents to acknowledge the potential that their child may be cursed. Unless they know already, many are reluctant to do this, and a few are even insulted by the insinuation.

Doctors that specialize in curses are working on ways to determine from birth, and even from an ultrasound, what kind of metallic child they’re working with, but it’s a work-in-progress, and nowhere near as reliable as many D’infernyssh, their parents, and potential parents would like it to be.

Having a very obvious curse that drains the emotions of those around them, whether they like it or not, makes D’infernyssh obvious targets of ostracization from many cultures, save for those that hold overcoming personal strengths in high reverence, like orcs, dragonfolk, and dwarves. Still, there’s a lot that needs to be done for acceptance of the D’infernyssh, and places like Athendrolyn are breeding grounds for social movements.

Obviously this ostracization is more intense for some D’infernyssh and not others. For example, a D’infern that eats pain might have wildly different experiences from a D’infern that eats joy.

Goblin

Can be born with or without the ability to use magic

Small, cave-dwelling, mischievous humanoids

Culturally, most goblins encourage community sharing, barter, and near-constant play. In many goblin societies, there is no concept of “private property.” Everything in the community belongs to everybody in it, with shared resources considered the default with individual items belonging to individuals a very distant concept. Trading extra resources or favors is more common than money when it comes to trade, and even a good joke can count as “payment” in some goblin societies. Entertainment is important for the good of the community, after all, and coming up with new and exciting games is taken very seriously.

Sphinx

Always born with the ability to use magic

Large creature with a human’s face, a lion’s body, and an eagle’s wings that tells riddles

Culturally, most sphinxes value intelligence, creativity, and interrogating rules. In many sphinx communities, their riddles are less important than why the riddles are asked. Knowing when and why to test someone with a riddle is one of the first lessons taught to the rare young sphinx, though the precise reason varies. Tradition, respect for the asker, earning the asker’s attention or friendship, testing another’s creativity, gaining wisdom from their answer, all of these and more are considered valid reasons for a sphinx to ask a riddle. Good luck ever getting them to reveal which one they were thinking of when they asked you, though.

Selkie

Always born with the ability to use magic

A seal creature that transforms into a human on land, keeping its seal skin as a coat

Culturally, most selkies value boundaries, slow-moving relationships, and taking time to put down firm roots. Second only to dryads in their community emphasis on deliberation, selkies never put their coats down in places they wouldn’t be willing to risk their lives in. As slow-moving as selkie friendships and relationships can be, when a selkie is comfortable enough to leave their coats at the door, it’s a sign they’ve become a loyal companion for life. In the same vein, trying to rush a relationship can cause a selkie to snap it like a twig, never to flourish.

Gorgon

Always born with the ability to use magic

A humanoid with snakes for hair that can turn others to stone with a single glance

The snakes are most often non-venomous, but there are exceptions

Culturally, most gorgons value self-defense, privacy, and “not judging books by the cover.” As frightening as gorgons can seem, and as truly dangerous as their powers can be, the vanishingly rare cases of intentional petrification prove that many fears are unfounded. Many gorgons that value privacy also value the privacy of others, and won’t pry about topics if they aren’t brought up first. By this same principle, many gorgons have very short tolerances for others prying, especially if it involves invasive questions about “how far the snakes go” or their “statue count.”

#original writing #original fiction #spilled ink #fantasy worldbuilding #fantasy world #world building #fantasy writing #urban fantasy #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community #annika talks #Anthology World-Building #Tales from Athendrolyn

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lgbtlunaverse · 5 months

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My stance on literary criticism in fanfiction communities is and will stay "only if it's explicitly asked for" and my usual go-to reply to the followup of "But you need criticism to improve!!" is: this is a hobby space, people are putting stuff out for free on the internet, it's not ABOUT quality, it's about fun.

And that's true. But the thing is that I do care about quality, actually. Controversial opinion but I like it when things are good. I want to make good things as a creator and enjoy them as an audience member. I think high quality art is just... a good goal to strive for inherently. And fanfiction is art (We're not having a debate about this. 'Art' is not a word that means high quality or high value. Because then bad art could not exist. Art means that it's art. Artistic expression. Nothing else)

And I think where me and the people talking about how criticism is necessary lose each other is that when we talk about quality, we both want good art to be made. But does that mean "I want a higher number of good works of art to exist" or do we mean "I want a higher fraction of all art that is created to be good"

Because those are 2 very different things.

See: if we mean the first, bad art existing is irrelevant, we only care about making sure good art comes into existance. But for the second, guarding against bad art is an integral part of reaching our goal. We not only have to encourage people to make good art, we have to discourage them from making bad art.

And those dual goals are important. Because criticism can make someone who is less good at art into a better artist. But it can also just make them... not make art.

And THIS. I think. Is where the distinction between paid professional art and hobby spaces, like fandoms, becomes important. It's not that I think you only get to criticise something if you paid money for it. It's that professional art spaces have a finite amount of resources. People need to eat, and they need to be paid, and art costs money to make. And if it's spent on the creation of bad art, that means less good art has the resources to be made.

(Even in something like indie e-book publishing with a lot less gatekeeping or upfront costs, this is still true. Resource allocation is perhaps more direct, directly from audience to author, but even before factoring in things like marketing and amazon's algorithm the truth is that writers have bills to pay and if they're not selling they'll need to find a different job)

What all of his means is that criticism is essential to professional art spaces. Because in order for quality to exist, you need to encourage the allocation of resources to good art and discourage the allocation of resources to bad art.

(It's more nuanced than that. Everytime a bad tropey romance book blows up people start whining about all the superior art this money could've been spent on. But there isn't ONE singular art money pool for the entire world. There are several thousand smaller resource pools that will be distributed among different regions and niches. The money spent on that tropey romance book was never going to be spent on an experimental sculpture. The work that lost out here is another better tropey romance book. Which is why you actually need to know and respect a genre to critique works in it effectively– ok I'll stop now)

And if there are more good artists than you can give resource to (which, by the way, is always true. Every moment of every day there truly great art not being made because the resources weren't there. From rejected ideas to talented people who never got to be artists in the first place because they needed a more stable job) then it doesn't matter whether an overall increase in quality comes from someone improving their craft or from them leaving the industry, leaving more resources to someone with higher quality work. They both have the same effect on the overall quality within the space.

But... in hobby spaces, those limits do not exist. People make stuff and put it on the internet for free. it's not just that they're not making money– even in professional spaces many people don't make money off their art– it's that making money isn't even an option. So that pool of limited resources doesn't exist.

Which means that the ONLY limiting factor for fanfiction is interest. The amount of fanfiction you get is dictated by the amount of people who are interested in creating it. That's it. Someone writing bad fanfiction does NOT mean that a different better fic writer will not get to write theirs.

"But criticism can make the bad fanfic writer better!" This is true, and it's usually what people who advocate for constructive ciritcism want. They do not want bad writers to be replaced by good writers, they want the bad writers to become good.

This makes sense, because as we just established, individual improvement is the ONLY way of improving the level of quality, because the only limiting factor is the amount of interested people

So, do you know what criticism can also do?

Make someone stop creating.

Well phrased or not, constructive or not. ANY critique that wasn't asked for has a chance to make someone want to stop creating. There really isn't a way to make sure you're not hitting someone in their deepest insecurities. And in unregulated spaces like fanfic you also don't have a way to screen for critique quality. There's no professional reviewers here. You can say "criticism is fine as long as it's constructive" all you want, but complete assholes giving absolutely useless critique can and do regularly think their criticism is the best writing advice in the world.

And if someone does stop, you have less interested people. You have decreased your one limiting factor.

And the thing is: people improve by just writing on their own. They might (keyword: MIGHT) improve faster if they had regular audience critique, but they'll improve by the mere act of repeatedly writing. It's the most important factor in improving.

And removing someone from the pool of interested people inherently means they stop writing, and thus stop improving. You have unavoidably DECREASED the amount of quality work that could be created.

The bottom line is: in spaces with limited resources, people either improving or quitting is the point. It's how you gatekeep, and get more good art to be made by freeing up those limited resources. In places where the only limiting factor is the people themselves, anyone being discouraged from making art because it's "not good enough" is a NET LOSS for quality.

Regardless of the fact that human enjoyment should be the first priority in hobbies, if you primarily look at it through the lens of caring about quality, unsolicited criticism hinders quality instead of serving it. The people who want to improve and who will not be discouraged by criticism will seek it out via beta-readers or editors or writing groups, or will explicitly invite their audience to give constructive criticism. At that point, go wild! But if you weren't asked: stay quiet.

#writing #fic writing #fandom #fanfiction #fandom culture #fandom etiquette #long post

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sotwk · 1 year

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Food and Agriculture in Thranduil's Kingdom

It's unfortunate that Thorin's Company was welcomed as dinner guests in Rivendell but imprisoned as invaders in Mirkwood. Had Thorin just shown King Thranduil just a little bit more respect, they could have been fed a whole lot better by the Silvans. And there would most definitely have been meat!

While the Rivendell elves seem to lean vegetarian, and Lothlorien's culinary specialty is the "one bite" lembas, the elves of Greenwood know more than a thing or two about indulgent feasting. These elves consider themselves permanent residents of their land, and with that outlook comes an attitude of celebrating Middle-earth's bounties.

The Silvans of the Woodland Realm have always been fond of feasting, merry-making, and community and family traditions centered around food. Furthermore, they are ruled by a King and royal family who whole-heartedly support this culture, participate in it themselves, and encourage trade that allows the realm to access food from other lands.

When it comes to food, the Greenwood elves are actually more alike Dwarves and Hobbits than they are the lofty High Elves.

Below the cut are SotWK headcanons regarding Food and Agriculture in the Woodland Realm:

Food, Cuisine, and Agriculture in the Woodland Realm

Prior to the establishment of the Woodland Realm and in the early reign of King Oropher (c. SA 700), the Silvan Elves populating Greenwood lived in smaller communities spread throughout the vast forest, but predominantly in the southwest, closer to their kin in Lorinand. Limited subsistence farming was practiced by a few, but by far most food at this time was obtained through hunting and gathering. The rich and bountiful Greenwood had always provided more than enough resources for its dwellers.

GATHERING

Greenwood Elves happily spend most of their immortal lives within Eryn Galen and the lands of Rhovanion, so they are accustomed to living off solely what the forest produces, and their diet is influenced largely by it.

The most commonly foraged edibles are:

Nuts: hazelnut, pecan, walnut, hickory, beechnut, chestnut

Fruit: plum, apple, grape, persimmon

Berries: mulberry, blackberry, currant, elderberry, raspberry

Wild garlic and ramps

Fungi: mushrooms and truffles of many varieties

Eggs: from various wild birds

Herbs and Spices: fennel, corn mint, dandelions, ground elder, pigweed, cicely, sorrel, hogweed, stinging nettle, watercress, wild carrot, rowan, wood avens, sneezewort

Maple: sourced for sugar and syrup

There are also hundreds of plant species native only to Greenwood and Rhovanion that are valued for their uses in healing. However, the Silvan herbalists of Greenwood are usually the only ones able to effectively extract the curative properties of these plants, indicating a connection between Elves and homeland may be necessary for the healing to work.

Art from Fantasy Flight Games

HUNTING

Greenwood Elves are expert hunters and trackers, with unparalleled mastery within their forest and the lands that surround its borders. With careful consideration and instinctual knowledge of the forest ecosystem, they select their prey according to what's most populous, and rotate as necessary to balance out conservation levels.

Among the animals they hunt regularly for meat consumption are rabbit, squirrel, duck, turkey, quail, weasel, racoon, boar, deer, wild oxen, and elk. On rare or special occasions, they hunt less common game such as lion and bear. They also obtain fish and freshwater mussels, clams, and snails from the Forest River and various streams.

It is illegal in Greenwood to hunt or kill specific animals that are declared a protected species, including the King's Elk (the breed of Thranduil's war elk), the silverwolf, and all species of eagle or falcon.

Any fauna or fauna may also be temporarily decreed off-limits for hunting or gathering, by order of the Elvenking and his council.

Any animal taken in as an elf's pet or familiar may also not be killed, so long as it has been properly tamed and does not pose a risk to others.

Throughout the Second Age, the Woodland Realm's population steadily increased under the wise rule of King Oropher and his court. As the communities and villages that made up the kingdom grew larger and more numerous, the practice of agriculture became more widespread to bolster the realm's food supply.

In the Woodland Realm, farming would always remain secondary to hunting and gathering due to the preference of Silvans for wild game and native vegetation. Farmed products serve primarily to enhance cuisine, supplement large feasts, provide reserves in case of war or famine, and as goods for trade with other realms.

FARMING and LIVESTOCK

Tracts of community farmlands were gradually cultivated in the arable fields between Greenwood's western borders (near the capital of Amon Lanc) and the Anduin River.

In order of output, the food crops most commonly grown are: wheat, barley, oats, potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, lettuce, peppers, and peas.

Fiber crops grown for cloth, paper, and rope include: flax, hemp, and cotton.

Domesticated animals are raised in small numbers solely for their by-products and not their meat. In order of importance, livestock that are raised are:

Sheep: source of wool and milk

Chickens: source of eggs

Cows: source of milk and for birthing calves

Animals raised for labor include:

Horses: highly valued and raised exclusively for transport and mounted cavalry

Oxen: used as beasts of burden (large-scale/community work)

Donkeys: used as beasts of burden (small-scale/family work)

When Prince Thranduil built his own palace of Bar Lasgalen just south of the Old Forest Road (which would later become the new capital upon his ascension to the throne), he helped the Silvans residing in the valleys of the Emyn Duir to initiate small-scale agriculture, which encouraged further migration into that area and northward towards the Grey Mountains.

Elvish historians refer to the first millennium of the Third Age as the "Golden Age of the Woodland Realm". During these years, the kingdom enjoyed an unbroken peace under a wise King and Queen who also had five sons actively involved in the governance of the realm.

Departing from his father's more isolationist leanings, Thranduil encouraged trade with realms across Middle-earth. It included all the races except for Hobbits, since the Shire did not yet exist prior to the darkening of Greenwood.

Sadly, most trade came to a stop by the end of the Third Age, with the exception of the nearby Dale, due to the struggles with Dol Guldur. However, after Erebor was reestablished by King Thorin, trade gradually resumed with the Dwarves. After the War of the Ring and the Cleansing of Dol Guldur, Eryn Lasgalen once again thrived with renewed relations with their trade partners--finally including the Shire!

AGRICULTURAL TRADE

The Woodland Realm's three most valuable exported agricultural products are:

Rare spices

Mushrooms and truffles

Medicinal herbs (extremely valuable but highly controlled to prevent misuse)

Imported goods are considered luxuries and not necessities, and are brought in seasonally for community feasts and celebrations (of which there are many). Everything is meant for the consumption of all the kingdom's citizens, regardless of status; there is never anything reserved as "special" for the royals or nobles.

The top agricultural imports, usually from realms/communities of Men, are:

Wine

Textiles (silk, cotton)

Seafood

Sugar

Cheeses

ARTISAN COOKS and BAKERS

Exposure to outside realms and cultures also resulted in an expansion of the culinary arts within Thranduil's kingdom. Cooking and baking became full-blown, respected and sought-after professions instead of tasks done within individual households. With the King's support, talented Elves were sent to other realms to learn their culinary practices; chefs from other kingdoms were invited to Greenwood as royal guests to do the same.

A few culinary feats and innovations the Woodland Elves became known for:

Use of offal (innards) in recipes that actually taste fantastic, thanks to seasonings and skilled cookery

Using literally every single part of a butchered animal with zero waste

Aphrodisiacs in common food recipes, using plant ingredients (partly responsible for their marriage and birth rates and large families)

Salted game meat (jerky) that is highly nourishing and excellent for travel; essentially a meat version of lembas

The use of whipped egg whites to make essentially a type of meringue--which opened up an entire category of desserts that became staples at feasts

Bonus Fun Headcanons! (as a thank you for reading this far)

Mealtimes in Thranduil's Family

No one can beat Ada in drinking contests, ever; it has been attempted hundreds of times--usually with Dorwinion wine--and Thranduil has never been dethroned by his sons.

The King and every single one of the Princes are all heavy eaters, and everyone, including the Queen, eats meat.

While they all observe formal manners at the table, the Princes can get rowdy when not in the presence of their mother--especially when there's drinking involved. (Not quite as bad as Thorin's Company, but close.)

Breakfast: Taken individually in their own rooms, according to each one's schedule/leisure

Lunch: The most commonly skipped meal; usually taken "on the go", and oftentimes with people outside of the family (e.g. business lunches, lunch with friends)

Dinner: The family meal. Everyone is expected to sit down and eat dinner with the rest of the family, unless traveling or there is a prior commitment that takes precedence.

Random Fun Food Facts with the Thranduilions

The Princes regularly compete to see who can eat the most exotic/"disgusting" food items. Turhir remains champion at this (able and willing to eat literally everything), with Legolas frequently trying (and constantly failing) to unseat him.

They have also competed to see who can eat the riskiest (aka poisonous) food items. Arvellas has somehow proven to be the most impervious to natural poisons, much to Gelir's frustration.

Legolas can go the longest without eating food, but no one really cares to try to beat his record.

Mirion is the heaviest eater, but is also the fastest, and because he has flawless table manners no one really notices.

Gelir can find truffles just using his sense of smell--yes, like a truffle pig. He has successfully trained other similarly gifted Elves to do the same.

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Tolkien Headcanon tag list: @quickslvxr @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @tamryniel @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @aduialel @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @klytemnestra13 @creativity-of-death @heilith @fizzyxcustard @absentmindeduniverse @lathalea @tamurilofrivendell @jordie-your-local-halfling @ladyk8tie @scyllas-revenge @asianbutnotjapanese @conversacomsmaug @lemonivall @ratsys @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @entishramblings @stormchaser819 @freshalmondpandadonut

#sotwk headcanon #thranduil #thranduil headcanon #legolas #mirkwood #mirkwood elves #the elvenking #the hobbit #lord of the rings #tolkien #tolkien headcanons

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beesmygod · 2 years

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who fills the pot holes in “lore olympus”?

the thing about criticism is this: you can absolutely think “too hard” about something intended to be light fare and the delicate balancing act of art criticism is about threading various needles to avoid as many retorts as possible accusing you of opening discussions in bad faith. one of the many ways to obliterate trust in your critical audience is to become so derisively nitpicky that your attempts to draw attention to the pre-existing holes in the setting or the structure of the story will look like petty sabotage. i recognize this is the risk im taking when i get set off by the existence of sports luxury vehicles within a fictional universe created entirely to cater to a specific sexual appetite. indeed, there is no type of pedantry more obnoxious than the sexual pedant.

BUT.

the work doesnt exist in a vacuum. if we’re going to be honest about the work’s intent (or, how the work’s intent explicitly reads to the audience), part of the fantasy is to be completely taken care of. i mean, who among us hasn’t dreamed of this, at least briefly. it’s one of the most fundamental of all human desires. but to be taken care of, in settings which are founded in capitalist societies (everyone groans at my shit), begs the obvious question: where is the money coming from?

author’s note so everyone knows im not insane (hahahaha): i’m not here to argue the virtues of communism over capitalism or imply that depicting capitalism favorably in your comic is a moral failing. it is not capitalism itself that i have a problem with (...in artistic depictions), it is the way that it is invoked within this comic specifically that bothers me; it demonstrates a terminal thread of thoughtlessness that threatens to unravel the entire setting, premise and moral ambiguity of what is being presented as a desirable fantasy. this element is the catalyst that sparks the degradation of the taboo into the unconscionable.

look i’ll be up front: my primary motivation is that this comic sucks and im a hater. the anti-feminist overtones are their own kettle of fish but the runner up contender for most concerning (oooueerrrg, everyone is groaning again) element is the complete lack of class consciousness. look, i mean concerning in the sense of “why has none of this gone recognized by, like, anyone?” every time i show someone a real LO panel they react like i’m went out of my way to fuck with them in an ultra specific way. it has completely recreated the feeling of being the only person in my friend group watching riverdale, if riverdale were the crown jewel of the WB.

to strip the pretension from the phrase “class consciousness” and put it in plain text: the insertion of modern capitalism into the comic has necessitated the creation of an underclass to serve the gods (the focus of the comic). as a result, the comic has repeatedly needed to justify the abuse, exploitation and acts of dominance over the subjugated class in order for the main cast to remain sympathetic. the author is incapable of envisioning a world that does not operate on disparity, in spite of the immutable fact that the gods are the sole arbiters of seemingly infinite creation.

and i’m capable of comprehending that there are times when a work has grotesquely unlikable asshole protagonists on purpose. it could be argued that the fickle behaviors of the gods is SUPPOSED to be detestable and there are obviously times where that is the intended audience read. but this is not “succession” and the entirety of the work does not indicate that it is trying to create quiet commentary by inviting the audience to draw their own conclusions on the characters by simply presenting them with the truth of their actions and deeds. additionally, if the romantic hero also engages in that behavior and it’s unremarked on or encouraged by the author or the heroine, what is the intended audience read?

regardless, all this to say: i do not want to alter the content of the comic, but to verbalize how it reads to me as an audience member. the purpose of criticism is to demonstrate and encourage reflection and to help refine one’s own perceptions.

okay. right. the cars.

this is minthe. i could write 100000 more words about the treatment of her by the comic and, by extension, the author. her introduction is about as subtle as a brick: she serves as the evil whore foil to persephone’s virgin perfection. her introduction as hades’ randomly abusive, hyper-sexual, and cruel younger girlfriend is contrasted with persephone’s naivete, chastity, and sweetness. shes literally smoking a cigar and wearing lingerie. somehow she is not the hero.

like i said, there’s a lot to unpack with her but i need to stay on target. minthe is a nymph, one of many “beast races” (for lack of a better term) that populate olympus and fulfill menial tasks and jobs. for example, this guy runs a modeling agency.

a modeling agency that include car shows. or...dealerships. its not really clear. anyway: she is introduced to hades in a flashback through his brother zeus who sexually harasses her during her shift.

lol uh. or comes as close as he can without becoming objectively villainous instead of “rakish”. as a result, what plays out is all VERY schoolyard behavior.

he executes a 0/10 prank that still kills for some reason.

and then it happens. “it” isn’t a singular event limited to just the example im about to give. “it” is the complete undercutting of the dramatic and logical tension within the story and “it” happens with alarming frequency as the comic introduces more and more modern elements. each additional luxury vehicle or department story or cell phone comes with the artist being forced to depict the people (or in this case, beast races) providing those services. the author cannot imagine a world where luxury is not predicted on service or a product, even or especially when the existence of the service or product does not make sense.

back to “it”...hades poofs away:

if gods can poof and fly (as its been implied some or all of them can), what in the hell is the purpose of the luxury vehicle on olympus? the beast races are sure as shit not buying them as they are explicitly the working class in every single one of their appearances. what does it run on? who pumps the gas? who services the cars? the streets of olympus have been paved so that cars can be driven so this would suggest the city’s infrastructure was centered around the use of vehicles. does he hire someone to drive him around in it, despite the fact that he can teleport? he and persephone clearly use it to get around even though she can fly. these cars are so successful despite having an extremely limited number of buyers, they make enough money to hire booth babes all day explicitly so they can be sexually harassed by the men (of a superior magic immortal race) buying the cars.

why does an entire seemingly unnecessary industry exist within the confines of the universe?

all of the above questions are overthinking a basic logistical problem with the setting for anyone with a moral center: in order to be served, one must have servants. the entirety of the universe in LO is constructed around not a modern re-imagining of the ancient myth, but instead a lazy and depressing hodge-podge of various products and physical items the author places great value on as status items in the real world. and, sadly, this is not as a bit within the universe. this isn’t setting up any message other than the central one of the comic: love and worth can be quantified with a dollar amount.

hades’ department store (staffed entirely by beast races who are delighted and eager to serve their master) offers a purse that two beast race women drool over, only to be informed:

this scene has a direct and obvious purpose: through it, we establish that hades’ store caters to the ultra-ultra-rich. this is a level of rich that is unobtainable to anyone except the pantheon of gods, whose unique abilities maintain the fabric of reality and thus set the terms for the world they unilaterally control. at best, minthe, a nymph, experiences a fraction of this wealth when sugaring for hades. on the other hand, persephone is the heiress to a cereal empire (who is eating the....?.........you know what dont even get me started on that whole thing) so she is all but assured to be independently wealthy even if she was temporarily without funds during certain events of the comic.

back to the purse: hades and persephone arrive at his own department store so that she can have a restorative shopping montage. she learns a heart-warming lesson about how its okay to be rich in what i think is one of the most gratuitous and absolute dog-brained moments of the entire fucking comic, thus far, including the part where persephone gets big and accidentally steps on (real, human, ancient greek) people and has to go on the lam. her accidental manslaughters evidently require a tribunal and a trial of her peers, which is odd when contrasted with the justice meted out on the beast races indiscriminately and unilaterally by individual gods who act as judge, jury, and executioner.

granted these are not the nice gods (i can think of an event with demeter, persephone’s confusingly controlling mother, specifically, as seen above), but there’s an echo of this behavior when hades bullies two beast race women into divulging information about persephone. in one example, a woman purchases a hair comb from a pawn shop, ignorant that it was a gift from hades and persephone is the one who pawned it for emergency funds. when hades shakes her down and demands where she stole the comb from, she directs him to the pawn shop and he just...takes it. to give it to persephone again. whether or not she was made whole or is even okay with this is completely inconsequential to the author but left me, the reader, in a total lurch. the complete disregard for addressing this within the narrative is less shocking when taken into total account with everything else ive been talking about.

the sequence in which hades takes her on a shopping spree to both improve her mood and express his love was too grotesque for me on every conceivable level. it is not just the shockingly antiquated “women b shoppin!” stereotype presented as a healing process, but the open and shameless conflation of money and love, net worth and self-worth. what possible message could come from this except to reinforce that within the fictional universe of LO, it is the place of the lesser to fawn over what persephone is ultimately entitled to. it is her birthright as the protagonist/self insert and as a literal goddess who determines the creation of food...and nymphs. the underclass. the gods are responsible for the creation of their servants.

the industries exist because they are 1:1 representations of or conductive to what the author considers to be a desirable luxurious fantasy. i do not think there is a more complex reason than that, as that is the reason why the entire comic exists: as a personal love letter to the author’s tastes and desires. and frankly, that’s the point of comics. ALL comic artists should succumb to this desire. what continues to vex and haunt me however is the complete lack of reflection occurring despite the author putting these elements together and presenting them for an audience who then lapped it up without questioning what, specifically, was appealing about this and why. it is by sheer accident that these elements combine together to paint an unflattering picture of a culture that has created artificial disparity for no apparent reason than personal gratification.

my question, is this:

who fills the pot holes on the roads built exclusively so that the gods can drive their luxury cars? why do they do it? to get hades some pussy????

#long post #lore olympus

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thejournallo · 8 months

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Explain the basic: Spells, Hexes and Curses

As always, I will love to hear your thoughts! and if you have any questions, I will be more than happy to answer them! If you liked it, leave a comment or reblog (that is always appreciated!). if you are intrested in more method check the masterlist!

Discleimer: Don't start your journey as a witch by doing spells without knowing how to protect yourself.

It's important to note that the concept of spells, hexes, and curses can vary widely among practitioners. Some may follow positive and ethical paths, while others may engage in practices that involve more negative or harmful energies. Here's a general overview:

Spells:

Spells are rituals or actions performed with the intention of bringing about a specific result or change.

They can be categorized as positive (such as healing or protection spells) or negative (such as banishing or binding spells).

Spellwork often involves the use of herbs, crystals, candles, symbols, and spoken words to channel energy and focus intent.

Hexes:

A hex is typically considered a negative spell with the intent to cause harm or misfortune to the target.

Hexes are believed to work by manipulating energy to bring about negative consequences.

It's important to note that many practitioners follow the Wiccan Rede, which encourages the use of magic for positive purposes and advises against causing harm.

Curses:

Curses are similar to hexes but may be more severe or long-lasting.

They are often intended to bring about significant harm or suffering to the person targeted.

Some practitioners believe in the concept of the "Rule of Three," which suggests that any energy or intent sent out into the world, whether positive or negative, will return to the sender threefold.

I do follow the rule of three because everything comes back to you; as you sow so you shall reap. So be careful with any spell (or hexes or curses) because it may come back to you!

It's also important to approach the subject with respect and cultural sensitivity, as different traditions and individuals may have varying beliefs and practices. As with any belief system, there are diverse perspectives within the witchcraft community, and not all practitioners engage in hexes or curses.

what to do before you start a spell?

I will explain step-by-step how I prepare before any spell.

I clense my space.

I protect myself with a symbol or by praying to a god, which means that I am dedicating that spell to the specific god or asking for protection and guidance during the spell.

I prepare everything I need and clense it with smoke one by one.

The first thing I did was light up a white candle to keep track of the spell with the flame (I will do another post where I explain better how to read flames).

then I proceed to do my spell.

some other posts of basic things you should know before a spell:

healing, protecting, and grounding.

shielding and banishing

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librarycards · 9 months

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Hello! Sorry if you’ve posted about this somewhere already/if it’s redundant, but I thought your coinage of “transMad” was very cool and I’m wondering what that term means to you? I’m really happy to see other people talking about madness being intertwined w their gender/transness and looking forward to checking out your reading lists :))

thank you so much for asking about one of my favorite things to infodump about!! rather than rehash a bunch of stuff, if it's okay, I'm going to borrow a few quotes from past!me that i've published in different places // offer you some things of mine to read.

broadly, though, i use transMadness as a way to explore the identificatory, epistemological, methodological, and theoretical implications of an orientation (to use Sara Ahmed's term) toward bodymind noncompliance and self/selves-determination. this orientation refuses to delineate diagnostically between Maddened / transed experiences of the world/our many worlds, and instead takes this shared/overlapping ground as a jumping off point for solidarity and speculation - that is, something that allows us to imagine otherwise worlds / make them manifest through creativity and collaboration.

(Ha, and I claimed i wouldn't talk too much...famous autistic last words)

ANYWAY. here are some clips that might help explain more dimensions of transMadness. note that, in my dissertation-in-progress, i'm focusing on xeno/neogender and/as self-diagnostic cultures among queercrip and transMad internet users. i'm interested in the anti-psych liberatory potential of this digital community work, especially as it centers forms of knowledge and scholarship devalued within Academia Proper, especially because so much of it is made by and for disabled, Mad, queer, trans people, esp. youth. Onward to quotes!

On transMad epistemologies: citation/power/knowledge:

I’ll spend most of this piece looking not at what transMad is, but what it does. First and foremost, transMad cites. Even its name alludes to other portmanteaus: neuroqueer and queercrip being the best-known among them. Many people have offered many different (ever-“working”!) definitions of these terms; today, I offer co-coiner Nick Walker’s (2021) definition of neuroqueer: a verb and an adjective “encompass[ing] the queering of neurocognitive norms as well as gender norms” (p. 196). In terms of queercrip, I also return to its coiner, Carrie Sandahl (2003), who for whom the queercrip (as person and as method/movement) confuses the diagnostic gaze, bears sociopolitical witness, and performs glitchful[4], incongruous, confusing in(ter)ventions into possible community. At base, “queer” and “crip” appear as analogous, reclaimed slurs signifying marginalized transgression. When combined, they describe a loop, perhaps a Möbius strip: crip (ani)mates queer, queer tells-on crip. The specter of crip haunts queer—and even more explicitly, as we will see, trans—and the crip(ped) bodymind holds, moves, and fucks queerly. Who knows where “queer” stops and “crip” and “neuro” begin? Likewise, transMad, whose citational style leaves little room for diagnostic clarity amidst a pastiche of noncompliant text.

On transMad epistemologies: multiplicity (h/t @materialisnt):

They encourage us to remove others’ names from our bodies, to reign in unruly citations, to set “boundaries” which violate Mad, crip ethics of care (see Fletcher, 2019). In truth, any framing of individual authorship in which the body text is “mine” and the citations gesture “elsewhere” belie the inherent interdependence of all intellectual life, and particularly of transMad intellectual life. transMad plural scholar mix. alan moss (2022) argues in relation to the pathologization of multiple systems: “all people, indeed all that exists, is a system that itself is constantly enmeshed in several overlapping and interconnected systems.” In short, I am full of Is, and will continue as many more. Just as disability justice helps us understand all life as interdependent and deserving of access, a transMad approach sees our selves as numerous and fuzzy. We have permission to dispense with the need for tidy texts, with our interlocutors, edits, and iterations either obfuscated entirely or exclusively relegated to a bibliography. transMad citation may thus be considered akin to visible mending[6], creating flamboyantly messy, multiplicitous work that does not seek to pass as objective or discrete.

On the value of (crip) failure and/as "virtuality":

Don’t get me wrong: Zoom PhD work is a failing enterprise. That is to say, it is a queercrip, transMad enterprise, which is to say, it is a beautiful, beautiful project. Mitchell, Snyder, and Ware describe such “fortunate failures” in the context of “curricular cripistemologies.”5 Coined by Merri Lisa Johnson, the term “cripistemologies,” refers to “embodied ways of knowing in relation, knowing-with, knowing-alongside, knowing-across-difference, and unknowing,” ways which frequently exist outside the purview of mainstream academia.6 Curricular cripistemologies, then, refer to an intentional, queercrip deviation from normative pedagogical approaches which trades the corrective impulse of “special ed” and other rehabilitative programs, and offers instead a generative noncompliance.7 That is, rather than trying to identify, isolate, and ameliorate difference, curricular cripistemologies lean into difference as it is experienced by disabled students ourselves, querying how atmospheres of in/accessibility shape normative approaches to education and how the embrace of “failure,” not as a last-resort but as a first choice, poses potentially transformative possibilities.

On transMadness and fat liberation: (for @trans-axolotl's Psych Survivor Zine)

A transMad, fat approach to disorderly eating requires making connections with humility and understanding, and, as I discussed above, engaging in compassionate, critical interrogation of our own anti-fatness.

[...]

A transMad, fat, abolitionist politic is one that makes room. We imagine beyond the cage, even if the details of that imagining are not yet clear. Just as we have carved micro-sites of support within violent digital and in-person contexts, just as we have learned to think about our lifeworlds beyond the paradigm of “recovery or death,” we can also reconceptualize fatness not as the enemy, but as another form of bodymind noncompliance in alliance and/or entanglement with disorderly eating practices. For thin disorderly eaters, this requires us to fundamentally challenge the way we view food and embodiment, even while maintaining a Mad respect for alternative ways of approaching reality.

On xenogenders, virtuality, and self-determination:

It is this very “irrationality” –– the “unrealness,” the “you’ve-got-to-be-kiddinghood,” that is most frequently weaponized against xenogenders, as well as their newly-coined sets of xenopronouns. The perceived and actual virtuality of xenogenders is often placed against the notion of “actuality,” in this case, of “real” (or “practical”) genders and pronouns to be used in one’s “real life.” Disabled activists have rightly resisted the distinction between online and (presumed-offline) “real life,” given that this categorically excludes homebound bodyminds, as well as those without IRL social and support circles. That said, I believe the virtual –– as almost, not-quite, proximite, making-do –– is incredibly useful in thinking about xenoidentities as transMad tools –– particularly, as transMad tools of underground collaboration / co-liberation.

[...]

What if gender was a project we wanted to fail? That is, what if trans- was a process not of getting better, not of moving-toward a bodymind more sane, more straight, and more cisheteropatriarchially desirable, but rather a line of flight on a longer trail to illegibility? Indeed, what if we replaced pathology’s narrow “path” with a trail lighted by the language of our comrades, whose linguistic interventions make and break gender in ways heretofore unimaginable? Xenoidentities, both individually and as a trans-gressive M.O., are fundamental to a broader transMad project of crafted, collective illegibility; intersubjective citation (imagine what it feels like for someone to be the gender that you coined!); and collective care that refuses a politics of cure. Crucially both virtual and digital, xenoidentities are furthermore a manifestation of the power of trans, predominantly disabled digital counterpublics, who overturn the hierarchy which places the IRL-real above the digital-unreal, making unruly, Mad space in which (with apologies to Donna Haraway) a hundred xenoselves might bloom.

On Maddening queer "diagnosis":

In her indictment of all “Kwik-Fix Drugs,” Gray further indicates the practice of forced treatment as in and of itself as a project of violent normalization, regardless of specific target or reason. The intentional ambiguity between her narrative of Madness and her narrative of asexuality disrupt mounting demands for a healthy (sanitized, neoliberal, and consumable) queerness. A Mad ace approach identifies these demands as, indeed, comparable with cis heteronormative notions of sexual maturity and responsibility – the idea that participation in culturally-normative sexual practices is a prerequisite for health (Kim, 2011, 481) and thus, personal autonomy (Meerai, Abdillahi, and Poole 2016, 21). By fusing the “lack of sexual appetite” attributed to her medications for bipolar disorder with her asexuality, Gray destabilizes the binary between healthy-sexual-diversity and unhealthy-psychopathology. She is once again disrupting contemporary queer impulses to dissociate from ongoing histories of pathologization. Here, Mad and queer/asexual activism are as inseparable in text as they are in Gray. Gray and her comrades collectively refuse both sexuality-as-“rehabilitation” (See Kim 2011, 486) and asexual acceptance predicated upon normative “health” (Kim 2010, 158) – that is, they Madden asexuality. Twoey, in her own voice, remixes the sources of her own pathologization, staggering the supposedly-divine pronouncement of the DSM across pages and bookending its extracts with her own writing and art. In this undermining of the DSM’s epistemological polish, Gray disrupts the domination of written prose over poetry and visual art, while also critiquing the role of the DSM in commercialized health “care.” Her zine opens with the lines “sex sells and sex is sold / sex was being sold and i didn’t buy” (Gray 2018, n.p.). Gray indicates a pathology perceived not only in a refusal to practice sex, but also in a refusal to buy (into) it. After all, a refusal to buy into existing sexual paradigms is for her also a refusal to buy into a feminized reproductive mandate.

#sector-v #thank you genuinely!#ask #transmad #antipsychiatry #xenogender #epistemology #madness

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