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bouquetface · 13 days

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Navamsa/D9 Observations

Accuracy will be HEAVILY influenced by the Entire d9 AND natal chart. This is general information, not a personal reading. With that being said, I'd love to know your experience with these placements.

D9 should be read alongside natal for full accuracy.

LONG POST BTW

Saturn in 11th House

You will have a smaller social circle in later life and after marriage. On the bright side, these friends are likely to be very loyal. They may be people with high titles - Doctor, Vet, Lawyer, Professor, Scientist, Business owner, etc.

The friends you do have will be reserved. They could be traditional and older people. Unlike, Jupiter in 11th your friends will not be as likely to go out of their way to help you out/give you opportunities. Saturn requires you put in your own effort.

Your elder sibling can become distant. This isn't necessarily bad, they may live at a distance and/or be busy due to their own personal life. EX: They are busy with raising their own family. They are more mature. Less likely to be spontaneously hang out with you and be able to be there for you.

If Saturn is in libra (where it is exalted), it is likely having a small but loyal circle is your choice. Rather than it being due to you struggling to create friendships.

The marriage will likely be very stable. There may be times where married life is so predictable and routined, you become bored. However, with this placement you will work through it. You and your spouse will fulfill your duties to one another. The couple has respect and admiration for one another regardless of what happens in life.

I have noticed this placement can make up for any malefic planet in 7th House (natal or d9). The couple is always inclined to be there for each other and resolve any issue that occurs. This is even more likely if Saturn is in libra.

Saturn in 7th House

Often, I see people react to this placement negatively. It's important to remember: Saturn is exalted in Libra. Libra is naturally ruling the 7th. Saturn is comfortable unless harshly aspected.

This does not mean you will never have a issues with the spouse. You will. Yet, the spouse will always want to resolve the issue rather than end the marriage. This is the couple that seems to be constantly bickering but when their spouse needs something, they will do their best to provide.

There is karma related to this placement. It is said this indicates marrying someone from a past life. You are met to resolve your issues from the past through making your marriage work.

Mercury in 7th House

This indicates the spouse is younger or looks younger than you. They are likely to be very social. The spouse can be your best friend. Over time they can become almost like a business partner.

The spouse is likely to be very social. They can start a conversation with almost anybody. The negative of this is the spouse will talk your ear off. They can often be moving around/fidgeting and talking. EX: You guys drive buy a farm. They will not be able to stop themselves from interrupting you and saying "Oh look cows"

The spouse can often make observations and complaints. Nitpicky person. Curious person too - they can want to go new places and explore. You will basically always know what is going on this person's head. The couple can bicker a lot.

On the bright side, mercury is adaptable especially if placed in a mutable sign (sag, virgo, pisces, gemini). They can compromise when they want. They are guaranteed to change throughout the marriage. Their hobbies/interests, maybe even career can change.

Sag ASC

You can reach higher status after marriage and/or in later life. However, you likely don't care about status. You just desire being able to have enough and not worry it will be gone.

You can become generous and more compassionate after marriage and/or in later life. You can wish everyone was kinder to each other. You let go of anger you had in early life. This is likely due to the fact the home is calmer.

You are likely to adapt beliefs or find a religion that really resonates. When someone questions your belief system, you can be very angry.

I have noticed most people I personally know with this placement have multiple marriages. However, this is NOT always the case. Instead, it may be that you will have to go through heartbreak before finding the one. Accuracy is influenced by ENTIRE chart.

Moon in First House

I've noticed moon influence in first house can indicate someone who loves sweets and being comfortable. They dislike sweets and even minor discomfort such as wearing jeans instead of sweatpants.

This can be an indicator of marrying young - not a strong one though. Regardless of age when married, through marriage they do find comfort and joy. This can change due to moon's fluctuating nature.

One potential disadvantage of this is mother (yours or partner's) tries to influence the marriage. If well placed, this is someone who has the support of their mother - will go to their mom for advice/help. If badly placed, the mother can become an obstacle. Either way, it is likely there are ups and downs in relationship with in-laws.

This can indicate sub consciously finding a partner who has shared traits with their own mom - physically or personality-wise.

A person can gain status through marriage and/or later in their life. They can have good paying career. They may own cars or homes that impress other people.

Generally, these people will do whatever to keep the spouse happy. However, depending on entire chart, they may not agree with spouse if spouse's wishes hurt their own family - specifically their mom and children.

Sun in 10th House

In navamsa, 10th H is the reputation of the marriage (as well as your reputation in later life). This indicates you will have power/authority later in life. Your marriage can be seen as a power couple. You either both are in high positions (possibly in government work) or you work together successfuly.

This can indicate someone who does certain things to prove their wealth. EX: Buying an expensive car, dressing in formal or expensive clothing, etc.

Good news you will succeed despite obstacles and haters. These people tend to gain respect of many people.

Rahu in 8th House

This is a strong indicator of being the most successful in your family. However, you are likely to be secretive about it. You fear people using you and/or asking for help.

Depending on entire chart, you may actually not be able to help it. You could desire that validation - even to your own surprise, you become someone who likes to flash their wealth. Might be in a subtle way - ex: wearing an expensive watch.

Your in-laws could be from a different background. EX: They live in a different country, they immigrated from a different country, they follow a different religion, etc.

Rahu conjunct Mars in 7th House

You or the spouse can become very angry after marriage and/or later in life. Usually, this manifests as thinking violent and angry thoughts. However, this is NOT always the case.

Instead of spouse, this can indicate working with mars-like people. For ex: You could work in a prison or at a gym.

These people can be very successful too. Mars is our drive and if given an extra boost by rahu, this person can be unstoppable when going after their goals.

Saturn in 4th House

This can indicate a strong foundation for marriage and later life. You can enjoy being in the home. You could work from home. You could physically work on the home. You can prioritise the family over work.

However, if harshly aspected you can feel restricted in the home and by family. You may wish to go out but feel you are tied down. This should not happen if a person understands that marriage and starting a family require time and effort. You will have to work with spouse to create balance in the home.

If you hate responsibility and being disciplined but still start a family, you may experience periods of extreme unhappiness. You will feel the spouse and children drain you.

EX: A uncle has this placement in cancer in d9, he got divorced. He says the wife and him fought over who was taking on the most responsibility. He felt she changed after having a kid. She paid "too much attention" to the kid and not him. He's kind of always been a man child/mama's boy. Saturn is in detriment in cancer, it can make it difficult (not impossible) for the person to take on saturn traits. + he only had squares aspecting his saturn. This will not be the case for everyone with this placement.

You can move away/ work away from birth place. This doesn't always mean you'll move to the US or UK/Europe. You may move states or provinces. EX: The same uncle from the first example is now a truck driver. He rarely comes back to this city. He is not the only person I know with this placement. The other person has also moved away from birth city for work.

Mercury in 2nd House

This is a good budgeting and wealth indicator. These people take control of their finances. You may become an accountant. Not always as a career, more often you take on the responsibility of doing your own taxes (including spouse and kids).

You may communicate more with your family after marriage and/or later in life. Checking in more with your aunts/uncles, cousins/siblings, parents.

Ketu in 2nd House

These people often go either 2 ways: They are always worried about money regardless of how much they have. Or they become detached about money and materialism. Both are possible at different times in life - ex: start out worried then learn to value priceless things like their family or their health.

You can be detached when it comes to your own family. You may lose contact or contact family less. This is the family you come from not the one you may create with spouse or long term partner.

Ketu conjunct Venus in 2nd House

This conjunction can make someone feel like they never have enough. They can be critical of partners and themselves. Nothing and nobody can feel good enough. Often, it is RARE for them to be happy in their first long term relationship. These people need that heartbreak to learn to treat their next partner better.

If you believe in past lives: people with this placement are commonly said to have stolen money or a possession. This is why they have anxiety over needing more and more. They struggle to feel satisfied with what they have.

This placement can make you feel you never have enough money. These people often end up collecting something like watches or earrings. This placement can make someone dedicated to getting more money, more materialistic things.

Or depending on entire chart, you detach yourself from the materialism and superficial things.

10th Ruler in 7th House

10th house in navamsa/d9 shows us what we will be known for later in life. Ruler in 7th shows you are known for your partnership - the one with the spouse, your friends, your clients, your buisness partner.

Whether it is in a positive, negative or neutral way depends on the ruler, any planets in 10th, and aspects being made to both. EX: No planets in virgo 10th H. Mercury the ruler in gemini 7th H positive aspects being made to 3rd H. Your spouse could be more of a social person than you. Generally, people know you as their partner.

Rahu in 2nd House

Often, after marraige and/or later in life, you cut contact or speak less with family. This can be due to a bad experience with them or you simply live further away and don't care to talk much.

If the ruler if 2nd is well placed along with rahu in 2nd, you could gain a lot in later life and/or after marriage. However, Rahu in 2nd assures it is due to the money YOU make not the spouse. You could end up the sole provider for the family. You could make more than the spouse.

You are likely to make more money through international work. EX: You move away from birth city, or your company works with other cities and/or countries.

You may have bad eyesight. Later in life, you could require glasses.

Rahu in 6th House

This indicates you take on huge responsibilities in daily routine of married life and/or later in life. The sign and ruler of 2nd will tell you what these responsibilities are. EX: Taurus or libra rahu in 6th, Venus in 4th H: You take on the role of renovations/decor in the home.

More general observations with this placement:

You will get revenge on those who attempt to harm you. Almost always have more than 1 kid (that can be the huge responsibility you take on). Spouse and you are or become physically fit.

Moon in 11th House

Generally, these people deeply care about their friends. They will maintain their social life and connections deep into later life and/or after marriage.

They can deeply care about how other's feel about them, they crave outsider validation. This is the person who wishes to be famous artist not due to passion for the arts but because they want attention. However, moon in 11th as far as I've seen does NOT indicate fame. Instead, these are very social and friendly. They party/go out a lot despite being older and married.

However, I have noticed in the sign of scorpio it is almost the opposite. They don't care much about having a social life outside of the marriage. They are more private when it comes to connecting with people.

But we must look at entire chart, I know someone with scorpio moon in 11th and rahu + jupiter in 7th H. Their spouse was the one who deeply valued their social life - constantly wanted to go out with his friends. A few years after marriage, their spouse said they paid more attention to friends than them Later, the spouse found out he was cheating with a female friend.

Moon in 11th H taurus on the other hand is good wealth indicator. These people are polite and pleasant. People compliment them behind their back. These people often have many kids too who are equally as polite and charming. Very good placement to have imo.

Venus in 5th House

Likely to have a baby girl if you choose to have kids. I have noticed, unless aspecting Jupiter, 2 people with this placement only had one daughter.

Creation will bring great joy into their life. Either creating something or like creating a child. Life takes drastic change for the better when they can create.

The spouse can have very good style. In a man's chart, the wife and daughter can be very into fashion.

Sun in 4th House

They are the main authority in your home. If they have kids, they are the main one enforcing any rules. Even if they don't have kids, they can want the final say over the spouse. They wear the pants in the relationship. If the spouse also wants main control, this will lead to conflict.

They may after marriage and/or later in life realize you were wrong in identifying your enemies. You may realize someone from the past who you pushed away was a true friend.

& they will definitely realize someone they kept as a true friend was actually fake. They will be once more betrayed later in life due to this misunderstanding from early life.

This is said to be due to karma & the sun being positioned in a house where it can't "see" who the enemies are and where they are coming from. However, accuracy will be heavily influenced by ENTIRE chart.

On the bright side, these people often experience a good amount of joy after moving away from birth city. They will get better career respect far away from birth city. However, it is likely they will still have family likely the father in birth city that support them - emotional or money.

Another positive, they are likely to be respected in career. In early life, they may have deeply desired popularity. This desire to be liked makes them work harder than others. In career, they will be rewarded for this.

Often, these people feel they are much closer to one parent than the other. One parent is more there for you than the other.

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astrophileblogs07 · 7 months

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS PT.20

⚫ Opposite to the stereotype of Leo being a narcissist, its the Aquarians who are more narcissist than ANY other zodiac. Esp its the Dhanishta naks out of the Aqua naks who are so.

⚫ I have seen 3 Aquarian moons (of Dhanishta nak) who had a poverty stricken first half of life (childhood, teenage years) but then they become well off like rlly very well off in their second half (esp after marriage). They marry rich 🤑 too. What i am saying here is the dramatic transformation of their financial life.

⚫ Pisces men are physically abusive. That's it. Esp the March Pisces. They literally are a bully. (Dont be fooled by the beautiful doe eyes lol)

⚫ "WOW What voluminous and luscious hair he's got!" -my ♌ rising and moon mom commenting on a side character with insignificant role in a movie 🤣. I wasn't noticing that at all...but she seemed to be stuck on that feature 😂.

⚫ Martian influence on a chart can actually have a liking to dangerous weapons and ammunitions. (Like idk I weirdly love them 😂😂)

⚫ Females with Ketu ruled naks are the first group of people whom male perceive as "threat". (Second is mars btw). Like if the other person is a typical male (egoistic, chauvinist) they will literally hate you to the core coz they know you equal them in all ways (except you know what LMAO 🤣). So they'll try to pin you down or belittle you etc. (sad, but since I have experienced I wanted it to share w you guys)

⚫ Also I love the way Ketu Nak women get along becoz mostly they have so much in common. And by that I mean how the society (male dom) treats them. I am not saying they're an "outcast" but the reaction they face just coz the male species get intimidated by us which has an cascading effect on our mental peace is beyond tolerance.

⚫Ketu naks are sexyyyyyy 🖤👁️🫦👁️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

(I always imagine a smokin hot biker girl 👩🏻‍🎤with leather jacket and smoky eyeshadow whenever I hear "Ashwini, Magha and Mula")

⚫ I have seen a Chart which was totally "Mars" chart and I'll tell you, that person has Aries asc, Moon, Mars and (Mercury ig is in Scorpio?idr) along with Scorpio sun. And that person is like personified version of the planet itself. So cunning and so shrewd, potentially be a mastermind. Statergic. Secretive af. (Might be their middle name to exaggerate). Close to their mom. Loves friends (friends over anything). Also they have a "reddish" tint to their skin (no health probs, but yeah that planet does that). Knows how to tackle any embarrassing moment in public and deal with it. (I am jealous of him coz i wanted to be like him in every way 😂)

⚫Lilith and Pluto aspects in natal chart can actually survive 8H synastry. Almost same energy and themes. 💀

⚫Why are Maghas the "scapegoat" of the family? Like they be framed in a situation with which they have no relation with. Its annoying to see. Its like you're locked in your room chilling and as soon as you step out, everyone in the family is blaming you for something or the other. Now you're the "bad guy". (Yo wtf 🤡). Added to the generosity of Leos, people target you often. 😕

⚫Libra men CANNOT stand loneliness and being ostracized at all in any way. I have seen this in every Libra I came across. For eg: if you're the "black sheep" they won't talk to you and will go with what the crowd says. And if people have outcasted them just becoz they're with you/involved with you, they'll drop you like hot potato. People say and stereotype Capricorns for being the one who cares about reputation and all, but her 'Venus-ruled-Saturn-exalted' sister also is same. 💀

(no wonder they're besties lol)

P.S: I read a post here which said "Eye contact with 8H synastry hits different" ( i am not copying, i don't remember the username) and boy is that true 💀💀💀. Like I was -->😯😳🫣. Coz I have experienced that 🤣🤣. It does, than any other eye contact I have seen. Lmao 🤣🤣.{Edit: its @zeldasnotes 🖤😁}

Hope you liked it 😁😊. Until next time! 👋🏻

Love you y'all ❤️❤️❤️

#astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astroblr #astrology community #astrology observations #astrology notes #natal chart #astrology tumblr #astro community

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fatescaprice · 7 months

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saving u from mr capitalist with (kind of) gut wrenching ideas from my insane brain but. can you imagine if you get into a heated argument with argenti or jingyuan and they accidentally break one of your gifts for them, it could be a complete accident like maybe accidentally hitting it off the table but how do you think they'll immediately react to it and what would they try to do to remedy the situation?

argenti and jing yuan after an argument

content warnings: none

note: thank u for the brief respite between mr capitalist asks!!! after this i am jumping back into the fray . with the leaks that came out this week i guess i shouldn't have been surprised but i learn something new every day i guess

thank u for this request . i made myself upset . also this is myfirst time writing jy so if he's a little ooc ummmm don't tell me directly im sensitive (JOKE)!!!! anyways. i hope u enjoy :]

The flash of regret in ARGENTI's eyes is both intense and immediate: a stinging shock, like the thorn of a rose piercing his skin. He says time and time again that he would do nothing to forsake you, and yet… Ah, had he grown so blind in his search for Idrila that he forgot the beauty he holds in his arms each night?

He reaches out for you first, as he always does — his gaze searching almost desperately to meet yours, his hand reaching to brush your cheek. Love, please, look at him, he’ll do anything you wish, as long as you just say the word. Believe him when he says he's already long forgotten what you had been arguing about to begin with — Argenti had lost the second he saw the pang of hurt cross your face.

Good words and deeds are normally his strong suit, but seeing the hurt look on your face made him falter, hesitant. He wants to prove himself deserving of you again, he'll say, taking your hands delicately, like glass — so please, tell him what he must do. Shall he fell a great beast? Bring you a pearl from the deepest seas of Thalassa? Now and always, he’s your loyal knight, forever at your beck and call. No task would be too great, no distance too wide — all Argenti wants is to be worthy to wipe away the tears from your cheeks again.

JING YUAN’s regret flows inwards, towards himself — was this behaviour fitting of a general? Was this behaviour worthy of you? He seems almost resigned, contemplative, though in the heat of the moment it comes off more like indifference.

That doesn’t mean he is indifferent, though — the implication that he doesn’t care about you hurts him more than any conceivable mortal words or blades. No, he just thinks it’s better that you both have some space, so neither of you can say anything you might regret. He has far too many of those already, and he doesn’t want you to be another entry on that list.

He’ll little gifts for you, quite like a cat leaving things at your door — an apology, a peace offering, a sign of his devotion. A box of your favourite food from that place you frequent in the Exalting Sanctum, or a piece of jewellery you had mentioned wanting to buy. Jing Yuan knows he can’t win you over with gifts — neither of you are so shallow — but he hopes that when he comes to your door with more than just an apology on his lips, you’ll come to forgive him.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #jing yuan x reader #✎... writing.

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starsworldd · 7 months

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Solar Observations pt. 7

readings are open! ⛓️

please take with a grain of salt ⛓️

I used orbs of 3 degrees for aspects from whole signs ⛓️

👾 some of my best sr years have been the years where i’ve had the same sr venus as my natal

👾 looking at the persona chart of your profected year lord can give you a lot of insights for the year ahead i’ve found

👾 chiron on the mc (both solar or natal x solar) shows a year of yearning for something very badly (most likely to be career/goal/experience related)

👾 having positive mercury-saturn aspects (including conjunction depending on sign) is a year where you are on top of your shit, maybe you feel like you conversations with others are thwarted in some way but better than most you’re preparing for something bigger, plans, plans, PLANS!!

👾 saturn conjunct mercury is a really interesting aspect actually for a solar return. it maybe harder to categorize and to process the world around you in a productive way, but you may also learn new subjects/wisdom.

👾 having venus at 28 degrees can indicate an exciting love/crush/relationship happening for that year

👾 moon at 29 degrees can show that from that year on out you will approach life from a very different mindset to what you had before. this mindset can last for a year or your entire life but either way it’s an anaretic degree so BIG STUFF! the sign can show what mindset you’re “ending” (ex: i had moon at 29 degrees in taurus in 2020 and from that year on out i really prioritized productivity and worked to stop my lazy/indulgent habits)

👾 planets at 20 degrees and what house those planets are in can show what themes/events prove to be very mystical or witchy that year. (ex: i had mars and neptune at 20 degrees with mars in the 7th and neptune in the 11th and that year i got back with my old friend group out of random chance and went on my first date with someone from that group😭😭 not me telling you guys my life tea. dating within friend groups is weird and would not recommend btw! but to each their own🩷)

👾 planets at the 1st degree + their houses show where you’re ambitious and what you desire, expect lots of action in these areas

👾 1st house ruler in 1st (aka your chart ruler in one of its domicile places) may mean that your by yourself or more alone, but most likely NOT in a bad way!! (self-care, self-improvement, reflection, etc…). check other houses that the planet rules to see what other important themes are emphasized that year (ex: libra venus in 1st house —> 8th house themes are important as well because taurus rules over the 8th)

👾 going off from the previous observation, planets in angular houses (1, 4, 7, 10) will ALWAYS be prominent throughout your year especially if they’re in domicile/exaltation/detriment/fall.

👾 a lot of celebrities have gotten big time famous the year where they had their 11th house in their 11th (ex: megan thee stallion, doja cat, billie eilish, etc…)

👾 just a tip, but make persona charts of your solar planets! if you don’t know how, go to astro.com, charts and calculations, extended chart selection, blue plus sign in the top right corner then fill out info from your solar return chart. after making this, click the “natal chart” tab, scroll down to “persona chart” :)

👾 jupiter/sagittarius in the 3rd or jupiter-mercury aspects show a lot of activity for the year ahead. fire/air = adventurous/fun activity, water/earth = self-growth/learning related (but arguably the themes can overlap), mercury in the third house is also indicative of a busy year!

👾 when i had mars in my natal 12th house last year i stayed up souper late almost every night regardless of weekend/weekday

👾 planets at 5 degrees show where there’s a lot of exciting things happening (ex: venus at 5 degrees -> lots of interesting meetups with friends, starting new hobbies, etc…, juno at 5 degrees -> partnerships open up new feelings of happiness, feeling loved, etc…). creds to @astrosky33 for this one!

👾 pay attention to the aspects made to your vertex for the year! and also what house the vertex falls in in your natal house. a couple years ago i had venus in my solar 4th trine my solar vertex in 8th conjunc turanus and was able to spend more time resting and doing fun things at home because unexpectedly (uranus) responsibilities/burdens placed upon me were lifted

👾 mars in the 12th house (including solar x natal) can show that you’re trying to break out of bad habits

👾 moon in fire signs can show a time of unrest or lots of physical activity at home, you have a lot of energy to do activities whether they’re serious activities or not

💜🤍💜🖤💜🤍💜🖤💜🤍💜🖤💜

hope you enjoyed!

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generalsmemories · 1 year

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hiii for your event (CONGRATS BY THE WAY!!!) I'd like to request

"hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" with jing yuan please and thank you

Warmth of the living

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ prompts used: "hey, no crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry" || 1k event

✧ content: established relationship, hurt/comfort, spoilers for xianzhou storyline, we are still stuck in the jing yuan recovery era after phantylia fight

✧ a/n: istg if this man goes into the next patch half beat up and ready to intervene i'm actually sentencing him to a house arrest cause GODDAMN. in a way this can be seen as an alt version of my other fic 48 hours tbh. i just can't imagine any other scenario where that sentence specifically is used by itself than the recent events - so sorry for the same sorta events, i'll make sure it's the last one though!

NOT BETA-READ CAUSE I LITERALLY WROTE THIS ALL IN 30 MINUTES THE MOMENT I GOT SOME MOTIVATION FOR IT HAHA

"Lady Bailu is taking care of him as we speak, [Name]. Please excercise some patience and believe in her - she's not titled the best healer of Luofu for no reason," Fu Xuan tries to comfort as you pace back and forth at the Seat of Divine Foresight - a hand massaging her temples as she looks towards the mountains of unopened scrolls needing to be read through within the day, "... If it helps, I've also foreseen that he won't be in any immediate danger. He's fine and he's going to recover."

That diviner noticed that her assurance seemed to ease you to the point you let out a long shaky exhale before sitting down at one of the steps leading to the grand desk, combing a hand through your hair for the nth time, "You haven't rested either with helping both me and Qingzu arrange documents and various meetings with the Six Charioteers. Why don't you try to take a walk outside the Exalting Sanctum?" Fu Xuan suggests, but you merely shake your head with a chuckle.

"If I leave you'll be more overwhelmed than you already are. Qingzu is even starting to pity you, lady Fu Xuan," you start, taking a deep breath in before standing up again, "Besides, if I leave the Seat, I just know I'll go running to where he is, I don't think that would help any of us now, would it?" you say with a light-hearted chuckle.

Fu Xuan didn't comment on the fact that your voice was trembling slightly as you spoke.

You can visit the general now. Please bring me some tuskir wraps, I'm hungry.

The message was sent as you had just placed a plate of food in front of Yanqing, almost dropping the contents entirely over the table if the young lieutenant didn't notice the grip you had on it falter and catching it in time, "Woah- [Name] I was looking forward to eating your food today! What would I do if you just suddenly do something like... that..." Yanqing's words died down when he saw your widened eyes, but a quick look at the sender of the message made him let out a relived sigh, only leaning back and picking up his chopsticks, "Why not visit the general instead of staring at your screen like that? It's not like you will be able to be able to teleport yourself to his location by doing that."

Yanqing's words made you snap out of your surprise, rushing towards the entrance, "Lock up after me! And give-"

"Mimi her food, I know! Just go!"

You knew that your worry was not needed. You knew that no matter how much you worried and that no matter how many times you wished for things to go differently that day that none of it would happen, "What happens and what has happened will inevitably stay like that no matter how much you try to alter it. And if my life can ensure that the rest of Luofu can stay safe then that is ultimately the best outcome in the long run, don't you agree, dear?" is what Jing Yuan had told you after the both of you had gone through his initial plan to handle the crisis.

You knew that he was right, which was why you bit your tongue and confirmed his plan. As the general of Luofu and as an official handling the lives of the people - you both knew that his plan, although reckless would yield the best results instead of sacrificing lives where it was not needed.

You knew.

But as you stand before him in person and get a thorough look at him you can't help but wish things had gone differently that day when he came to you with a final plan - a final play.

You wished that you had let your selfish mind overtake your logical mind for a second and beg him to come up with something else. Anything that didn't involve setting himself in danger.

But you didn't, and now you're seeing the very consequences of not doing so in front of you.

His skin is paler than usual, there's bandages wrapped around his torso, his forearms and even a few of his fingers. The usual spark in his eyes are dimmed slighty. There's an air of exhaustion around him, like he's trying his best to stay awake even though he desperately wants to sleep, but his smile is still the same.

The same reassuring, convinning and gentle smile he gives you when you greet him at the Seat of Divine Foresight, when you return home after work and he's home before you and when you run into each other on the streets of Luofu. And yet you can't find yourself to smile back, your fingers tightly twisting the material of your garments while you struggle to let out a word, a sound or anything at all to even try to match his own effort to reach out to you.

But you can't, you can't bring yourself to speak, and every time you open your mouth you can only make a tiny sound that sounds like a wheeze. But before you can try to recollect yourself, your eyes widen when Jing Yuan forces himself to sit in an upright position, snapping back to reality when you hear his quiet grunt of pain.

However you're not able to tell him to lay back down again (as Bailu had instructed he does) before he grabs a hold of your hands and pulls you into his arms with quiet coos and a low chuckle, "No crying... I thought we said we wouldn't cry over things like this?" he whispers, pulling slightly back to instead cup your cheeks, thumbs caressing the few tears that had managed to fall down from your eyes with a gentle gaze.

It tears you utterly apart how your wellbeing is still his priority than his own recovery.

"That... was a different... situation," you manage to squeeze out, bringing your hands up to rub the tears away yourself.

You didn't know when the tears began to form, nor when they began to fall.

"I know I'll lose you one day to the mara, as much as you're aware that you might lose me to it as well - and that's what we promised not to cry over! We never agreed to this sort of situation!" you croak out, trying your best to stop the tears from flowing. You know it's a silly comparison - Jing Yuan would much rather die out in the battlefield protecting the Luofu and the alliance than fall victim to the curse. You know, but your selfish self won't accept that outcome - even though you know such an outcome is the best for the general of Luofu.

"I agreed to this plan of yours, yes. I also agreed knowing that you're essentially putting your own life at risk yes, but still!" you sob, raising a closed fist to lightly beat down on his already battered body, "Knowing that you still came back safe just made every possible scenario of things that could go wrong and knowing they didn't and that you're here right now- scolding me of all things for crying in relief just makes this seem more surreal so you out of everyone can't fault me for actually crying because I was preparing a starskiff for the soul-soothing ceremony in the background for aeons sake," you rasp out, ending the whole rant with a saddened chuckle.

Jing Yuan merely laughs in return, one arm wrapping around your waist while his free hand pushes your head into his chest while gently patting your head, his body shaking with his soft chuckles when he feels your tears wet his garments again, "I'm fine dear, I just need to be in bedrest for a while. I'm not leaving anytime soon, so stop those tears, okay? You know I can't handle it when you cry," he whispers, bending his head down slightly to kiss the crown of your head softly.

"Just let me cry this one out, I don't think I've cried for a good couple of years," you murmur, burying yourself further into his chest, the arms you have wrapped around him squeezing a tiny bit - making Jing Yuan let out a small yelp of surprise from the force.

He's warm, you notice. His heart is beating and you can feel his chest rise up and down with every breath he takes. You can feel his fingers run through your head, you can hear the his nonchalant commets of his observations of the room in the commission amidst the otherwise silent room. And you can feel his whole body when he shuffles a bit to rest his back to the wall while he himself tries to squeeze you a bit tighter to reassure you.

Everything indicating that he's alive for another day.

And only after that do you finally feel like you can breathe again.

another request that had the same scenario in it!

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #generalsmemories 1k event

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wifelinkmtg · 2 years

Text

Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia

There is another shore, you know, upon the other side. - Lewis Carroll, “The Lobster Quadrille,”

ONE.

There is a moment early in H.P. Lovecraft’s 1931 novella The Shadow over Innsmouth where the nameless narrator looks out from the rotting seaside hamlet where he has lucklessly ventured, to the so-called Devil Reef some ways out in the harbor, darkened by a cloud of evil rumor—and something curious happens: the narrator experiences two opposed sensations simultaneously. The “long, black line” of the reef conveys “a suggestion of odd latent malignancy,” but also, “a subtle, curious sense of beckoning seemed superadded to the grim repulsion.” This bit of foreshadowing—the reef both calling and repelling the narrator—only finds its denouement at the very end of the story, after our narrator has narrowly escaped Innsmouth, the fish-like monsters who swarm in off of Devil Reef and their part-human descendants who inhabit the town in an unconvincing and repellent simulacrum of humanity. After his escape, the narrator does some genealogical research into his own troubled family history, full of disappearances and suicides, and concludes that he himself is one such abyssal hybrid. As he ages, he finds himself changing to resemble them, and in his dreams he swims among them in undersea palaces and gardens. The call of the deep becomes impossible to ignore:

So far I have not shot myself as my uncle Douglas did. I bought an automatic and almost took the step, but certain dreams deterred me. The tense extremes of horror are lessening, and I feel queerly drawn toward the unknown sea-deeps instead of fearing them. I hear and do strange things in sleep, and awake with a kind of exaltation instead of terror.

In the end, the narrator embraces the change and determines to flee to those oceanic depths, to live “amidst wonder and glory for ever.”

This is horror.

Something curious also happens in Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House. Our heroine, Eleanor Vance, flees an unhappy life with a loveless sister to a haunted house, to take part in a paranormal experiment with three new friends. The haunting proceeds predictably but effectively: labyrinthine corridors, voices, unearthly cold, banging on doors, the rare apparition. The participants find themselves see-sawing between increasing night-time terror and a strangely intense joie de vivre by day, until one night, as the house seems to shake itself down upon its terrified guests in a dizzying cataclysm, Eleanor breaks:

She heard the laughter over all, coming thin and lunatic, rising in its little crazy tune, and thought, No; it is over for me. It is too much, she thought, I will relinquish my possession of this self of mine, abdicate, give over willingly what I never wanted at all; whatever it wants of me it can have.

By the next line, it is abruptly morning. The terror has ceased; the house stands. Its manifestations, for Eleanor, become benign: an unseen figure catches her beside a brook,

and she was held tight and safe. It is not cold at all, she thought, it is not cold at all.

She is through the horror now, on the other side of something. She becomes part of the haunting. Her senses encompass the whole of the house. She runs unafraid through the house by night, banging on doors, laughing as she eludes the other guests. When they finally catch up to her, it seems clear to them that Hill House has crept into her, that she has crossed some line, and they decide the best course of action is to send her away, in the hopes that with time she will return to this side, the normal side, the human side.

Instead, faced with rejection behind her and her old unhappy life before her, Eleanor Vance steers her car into a tree. There are holes which admit passage in only one direction. This, too, is horror.

In the 2018 film Annihilation, Lena (played by Natalie Portman) crosses a literal barrier called the Shimmer into a dangerous yet beautiful alien landscape full of mutated creatures. During their journey deeper into this territory, Lena and her companions realize that they themselves are also changing under the alien influence. Some break under the realization. Some surrender to the change and vanish into the landscape. Lena alone returns from the heart of the phenomenon, but she is no longer herself. Is this still horror? The film has many horror elements to it, but in this last moment, as she embraces her similarly-transformed husband, it is something else.

Cyberqueen, a 2012 text game created by Porpentine, draws on a legacy of godlike malevolent artificial intelligences in fiction (AM, from Harlan Ellison’s “I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream,” GladOS from the Portal games, and most importantly SHODAN from the System Shock series, who is cited as an inspiration eleven times in the Cyberqueen acknowledgements.) In this game, you awake from cryosleep on a colony spaceship where the shipboard AI has gone rogue. You fight her. You lose. You run. You are caught. You are forcibly cyberized, your mind surgically altered, your will brought into line with that of the AI. Finally, you kill or mutilate every other surviving human aboard the ship. It is filthily, overwhelmingly erotic throughout. (You can play it here, and I strongly recommend doing so if you have the stomach for it.)

This is no longer horror, is it? How can the same sort of transformation we encounter as horror in Lovecraft be encountered here as something to get off to? Well,

TWO.

I don’t remember now where I got the idea from, but there was a period in my childhood where I was terrified of the idea of time travel—specifically of the idea that someone in the future would invent it, travel to before I was born, and through the butterfly effect cause me to be born a girl instead. I used to lie awake at night circling the idea like a broken tooth. It was an irrational fear on multiple levels: I wasn’t afraid of being written out of the timeline through time travel, and I knew, intellectually, that in the timeline where I was born a girl I would have no memory of ever having been anything else, but even so, the horror of it caught me and held me by the throat.

This meant something, of course—in retrospect obvious, but at the time literally unimaginable, and it wasn’t until college, sitting at my computer in the dark in my dorm room at three in the morning, following the itching in my brain, that I unearthed alchemical knowledge: the transmutation of sex, male into female, in a dizzying profusion of form and process and—okay what I’m saying is I discovered forced feminization porn, yeah? It was revelatory. It was squalid. I was still Christian and couldn’t even bring myself to jerk off yet, so I sat there, the itch in my brain grown into a thunderous buzz, unable or unwilling to look away.

Forced feminization—I promise this is relevant—is the unwilling transformation of (usually) a man into (usually) a hyper-feminine woman, accomplished by a wide variety of means, including but not limited to blackmail, magic potions, nanite swarms, cursed artifacts, hacks or glitches in virtual reality programs, badly-worded wishes, industrial accidents, chemical leaks, abduction and surgery, medical malpractice, and hypnosis. You may notice that many if not all of these scenarios could be made into horror with little change, and in fact it is not uncommon for a poorly-written or over-ambitious forced-fem story to wind up as horror by accident (though of course this greatly depends on the tastes of the individual reader.)

(As an aside, I’d like to note that there is a great deal to learn from porn—not in terms of How to Do Sex, but about how the culture which produced it thinks about sex, and gender, and race and morality and technology and a host of other things. It’s a lot like popping the hood of a car and examining the engine. Sure, you wind up greasy and should probably wash your hands before you rejoin polite company, but if you don’t, you’ll never figure out the underlying issues. Actually, it’s a lot like horror in that regard.)

Let’s talk about a very different transformation I was undergoing at the same time: the loss of my faith. I was raised, as mentioned, very Christian—and in one of the worst strains of fundamentalist white American Evangelicalism. I was a true believer: the world for me was entirely divided between the faithful elect and the unbelievers, who must necessarily know the truth of the (fundamentalist white American Evangelical) gospel in their hearts, but had wilfully chosen to oppose Christ. The prospect of passing from the elect into the category of the unbeliever was unthinkable. The process of deconversion led only into the outer darkness and the weeping and gnashing of teeth.

And yet I found myself on that precipice anyway. The worldview of FWAE is not one which survives too much contact with the actual world, and I had chosen against my parents’ preferences to go to a secular university, the better to witness to the unsaved. In the end, the process I had been mortally afraid of consisted of a couple days’ agonized thought, unanswered prayer and tearful calls to my unresponsive parents and pastor, after which I emerged into a world much bigger and much more complex than the one I’d grown up in. The serpent had told the truth after all: I had eaten of the fruit, and had not died.

Okay: is this horror? Reader, forgive me for presupposing anything about your perspective, but you’re on a horny lesbian Magic: the Gathering card art review tumblr, so I’m going to assume that losing one’s hateful, fundamentalist faith is the opposite of horrifying to you. But it was, absolutely, horror to contemplate for someone on the other side of that process.

But then... is the horror of any given transformation only a matter of where you’re standing? If you read The Shadow over Innsmouth aware of Lovecraft’s profound racism, it becomes very, very obvious that the horror of Innsmouth is the specter of miscegenation. The narrator’s horrified cataloging of the facial features of the offspring of fishmen and humans, the South Pacific origin of the sea-devil-worship of Innsmouth brought back by an enterprising merchant captain, the fear of the unsuspected poison of one’s own ancestry lurking in one’s own blood: all of this is much less effective as horror for someone living in a country where interracial marriages are protected under law and seen as unproblematic in consensus morality (assume whatever asterisks are necessary for the complicated landscape of attitudes toward interracial relationships in the United States, please, I do not have the expertise or desire to get into it here.) My point is that since 1967 (asterisk asterisk asterisk), we are through to the other side of that horror, and it turns out there literally wasn’t anything to be afraid of. The pelagial palaces and terraced coral gardens of Y’ha-nthlei just sound beautiful to me.

And it’s hard for me—though I may be in the minority here—to view Hill House as the primary antagonist in Jackson’s novel. The true source of evil is all the things Eleanor runs from and therefore brings with her: her cruel, deceased mother, her exploitation and infantilization by her sister; as well as the final polite unwillingness of her new friends at Hill House to do anything but send her away once she goes inconveniently mad. These mundane ills are what sends Eleanor Vance careening into the tree, not the supernatural will of malignant architecture.

Here, then, is the better part of my thesis: transformation horror is something that can be traversed. You can come out the other end of a transformation unrecognizable to you-as-you-were, and yet still very much yourself. Moreover, it is this navigability, this double-sidedness which so closely links the horror of transformation to the eros of transformation. Not all transformation horror, passed through, becomes plainly erotic, but it is very often portrayed as a kind of seduction, and it is difficult for me to conceive of eros without some kind of change. Desire is a kind of transformation, is it not?

In fact, isn’t it true that a great many of us have already passed through such a transformation? Recall yourself as a child, as you were when you first learned about sex: wasn’t there something repellent and unhygienic about the idea? Wasn’t there a small horror in being told, you will change, and this will cease to be loathsome and become something you desire fervently, something you seek out, something you go to great lengths to experience? ...or were you, possibly, raised in a family & culture that was normal about sex and bodies? I admit I may be generalizing my individual neuroses to some extent here. Well, stet, at the very least you can see where I’m coming from.

THREE.

Returning for a moment to the subject of porn: why forced feminization, specifically? There are—you’re going to have to trust me here—no shortage of ways in the real world by which a man transforms into a woman, and very few of them involve coercion or all the horror-adjacent setup of, say, mind-control devices or vengeful curses. Why does a simple story of a willing gender transition fail to function as erotica? Why did it take stories of unwilling transformation for me to learn I was transgender? What’s the juice ne sais quoi at play in forced-fem?

Well, how does Luke Skywalker come to leave Tatooine? He gets a mysterious message from a princess, a desert wizard tells him to come help rescue her, and... he says no. He has obligations to family here, a job to do, power converters to bring back from Tosche Station. He is enmeshed in a social web, like all of us: it surrounds us, penetrates us, binds the galaxy together and so forth. So in order for Luke to go on grand adventures, the story needs to murder his aunt and uncle and sever those threads of social obligation.

Joseph Campbell, monomyth monomane that he was, would say this is “Refusing the Call” and find it in Jungian shadow on every cave wall, signifying something important in the heart of humanity, but really this is just a useful storytelling tool: a story needs change, but a virtuous protagonist cannot simply abandon their obligations and designated social role to go gallivanting off into space, so change must be forced upon them.

The bodice-ripper romance novel, the rape fantasy, the forced feminization story are all operating on a similar premise: you are so wrapped in society’s web, in your socially-dictated identity, that you cannot even acknowledge your desires on the level of conscious thought. When these things are enacted on your body, you will find yourself changed by the experience. You will love what has been done to you, and you remain blameless, since it’s not as though you sought this out.

These are liberatory fantasies. The lack of consent is precisely what allows you to move beyond what is permitted you into something new.

Incantation Against Bad-Faith Interpretation because I, a transsexual, just called rape fantasies “liberatory”: I am talking about fantasies, I am talking about why people fantasize about having their consent violated, I am talking about the role such fantasies play and what they can tell us about horror and desire. I am not advocating for real people to have real bad things done to them in real life, fuck off, End of Incantation.

So then, we’ve assembled the full thesis: transformation horror is traversible to the other side, and is inextricably linked to transformation erotica, both because of the seduction of transformation in horror and because the horror of transformation unlocks regions of desire which would otherwise have remained inaccessible.

Okay, now we can talk about Phyrexia.

FOUR.

I hear the roar of the big machine / Two worlds and in between / Hot metal and methedrine / I hear empire down

- The Sisters of Mercy, “Lucretia My Reflection”, from Floodland

Phyrexia is many things—a world, another world, a faction, a kind of creature—but I think it can most succinctly be understood as a virulently contagious biomechanical body horror cult dedicated to the ultimate incorporation of all things into itself. It’s a bit like Star Trek’s the Borg, if the Borg had any style whatsoever. It draws heavy inspiration from H. R. Giger’s work—some Phyrexian horrors are barely-altered versions of the xenomorph from Alien—as well as from Clive Barker’s Cenobites in Hellraiser, whose alien BDSM schtick is especially influential on the aesthetic of New Phyrexia. It is transmitted through glistening oil, an infection vector capable of reshaping bodies and minds, and given enough time, whole worlds. The process by which a being is made into a Phyrexian, “compleation,” is accomplished via glistening oil exposure, surgery, cyberization, and brainwashing.

This essay is in many ways a response to Rhystic Studies’ latest video, called “Phyrexia is Hell”. I think it’s a well-made video, as is true of all Sam Gaglio’s work, and a lot of it is really good—the overview of the nearly-thirty-year history of depictions of Phyrexia in Magic: the Gathering art is invaluable, and the stuff about the Phyrexian conlang is unbelievably cool—but the way he identifies Phyrexia one-to-one with a pretty facile understanding of transhumanism leads him to confused and frankly silly conclusions, like placing Phyrexian compleation on the same continuum with cosmetic orthodontics. Like,

Mandible Justiciar (art by Mike Franchina)

Phyrexia is perfectly happy for you to have teeth in your arms instead of your head! They don’t care about the narrow ideal of a conventionally-attractive human smile. This is a whole other thing.

Now, I don’t want to come down too hard on Gaglio here for a couple of reasons: one, he is very good at what he does (see his videos Understanding Sagas and Red Deck Wins, for example); two, it’s reasonable to say that a full understanding of transhumanism is beyond the scope of a video essay about the tiny pictures on cards for dweebs; and three, most importantly, because I see people make this same mistake all the time. People focus on the things that are textually true about Phyrexia and miss the tension between that and the very different things currently being said by the Phyrexian aesthetic. They miss the razorverge thicket, as it were, for the mycosynth trees.

For instance: it is textually the case that Phyrexia is a sort of fascist cult stemming from the depraved machinations of a dead eugenicist god. Contrast, however, other fascist factions in science fiction: the Imperium of Man from Warhammer 40K worships a massive Aryan god-emperor übermensch, its battles are fought by nine-foot-tall genetically-engineered supersoldiers, and it slaps either skulls or chainsaws on every available surface. The Galactic Empire from Star Wars has legions of identical, uniform stormtroopers. Even the Borg all look alike. Phyrexians talk of ideal perfection of form and then make ten thousand completely different monsters. Phyrexians talk of perfect unity and splinter into nearly a dozen factions who can’t even agree on a name for what they’re trying to accomplish. Other fictional fascisms don’t do this—sure, there’s internal contradiction, as in real fascism, but the core aesthetic remains recognizably, sometimes indistinguishably fascist. You can easily find terminally-online Nazis using Warhammer 40K lingo with that peculiar sincerity which is indistinguishable from irony when you’ve decided the truth doesn’t matter, but it would be a lot harder to find some alt-right bozo going all-in on the Glory of Phyrexia. The aesthetic is all wrong, and fascism’s aesthetic is one of its few consistent features.

Mondrak, Glory Dominus (art by Jason A. Engle)

You see what I mean? The aesthetic evokes a sort of alien fascism, but the art itself would be considered “degenerate” by actual fascists.

Tamiyo’s Immobilizer (art by Daren Bader)

This is much, much closer to Mapplethorpe than to Riefenstahl. And people respond to Phyrexia similarly! The body horror and grotesquerie make them uncomfortable, and then they try to moralize that discomfort. This has been happening at the very least since 2011 with the release of New Phyrexia, and I have seen people on Tumblr arguing in total sincerity that people who are into Phyrexia are making themselves susceptible to real-life cult recruitment (again, the heterogeneity of form in Phyrexia is incompatible with the enforced uniformity of cults and other high-control groups. The appeal of Phyrexia does not translate into real-life cults.)

So, okay, what is the appeal of Phyrexia? Well, you get a sick fuckin cyborg body, is what. Many of us, for various reasons (disability, disease, gender, and so forth) find ourselve intensely dissatisfied with our own bodies, and wanting to radically alter them. Many of us already have. Yes, you surrender your humanity when you are compleated, but we know first-hand that “humanity” is socially-constructed and contingent on certain kinds of conformity. We’ve had our humanity doubted, interrogated, stripped away. We’ve done without. It’s not too high a price to pay, if we get to look like this at the end:

Vraska, Betrayal’s Sting (art by Chase Stone)

I’d even argue that getting to reject humanity as it has rejected you is part of the appeal of compleation. This isn’t quite transhumanism; I might call it exhumanism: the freedom to unearth a way of being that is no longer being human. This is why compleation is coercive, remember? The fantasy allows you to get to this point without making the unimaginable decision to reject not only your individual social obligations, but the idea that you could owe anyone or everyone any kind of social conformity simply for having been born into your species—and then you get to be a cool and powerful cybergorgon.

This, then, is why I don’t blame someone like Sam Gaglio (who is to the best of my knowledge both cisgender and able-bodied) for not really getting what’s going on with Phyrexia. He lives on the before side of the horror of transformation; he’s never had to cross over.

In fact, I’d go one step further here. Phyrexia has existed for almost thirty years, and in that time it’s changed quite a bit. Gaglio quotes an article by Rob Bockman in Hipsters of the Coast which comments on how the shift in the depictions of Phyrexia from 1994 to 2000 reflected shifts in cultural fears over time. The Satanic Panic shaded into multidirectional Y2K anxieties, and the necromancy of original Phyrexia mutated into technological horror. This is what effective horror does: it reflects the fears of its age back to us.

Today, Phyrexia is a seductive, corrupting influence. They have figured out how to compleat planeswalkers—the protagonists of Magic storylines; named, important characters (and Lukka)—which was previously thought impossible. Characters we knew and loved (and Lukka) are seduced, brainwashed, bodily violated, surgically altered, and returned to us unrecognizable. It is not coincidental that this version of Phyrexia is concurrent with the worst wave of anti-transgender legislation to hit the United States in decades—legislation which plays on the specters of the transsexual bathroom predator and on the brainwashed child transitioner, on the idea that transsexuality is a form of social contagion we must protect our children from even learning about. The horror of Phyrexia in its current incarnation is a mirror of our cultural fear of transsexual bodies.

Irreversible Damage: the Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters (art by Lauren K. Cannon)

I want to be very clear here—actually, one moment, my extremely funny Abigail Schrier joke notwithstanding, I do need to tell you that the actual name of the above card is “Furnace Punisher”, which is just peak Phyrexia—I want to be clear that I am not ascribing any kind of malice or antipathy towards trans people, either intentional or unconscious, to Wizards of the Coast or the people who make Magic: the Gathering. I would be shocked if anyone there set out to make Innsmouth-style horror about transsexuals. Nor am I upset that they kind of have! Something being fun and interesting is way more important to me than whether or not it’s problematic, and it’s not like I haven’t seen way more vicious horror about transsexuals. We’ll laugh about this someday, in the coral gardens of Y’ha-nthlei, and you’ll wonder what you were ever so afraid of.

In fact, this is another reason why Phyrexia is so appealing to people like us: we are a kind of social contagion. We are carriers for the viral idea that modes of being outside patriarchy and the nuclear family exist; that gender is a marketing demographic, not an ontological truth; that damn near everything about the world we’ve built is not a necessary fact but a social construct contingent upon a half-dozen other social constructs. A new world grows from many, many seeds, and this one germinates in us.

Anyway! What were we talking aboFIVE.

//please state your name for the record

bone-wife / spit-dribbler / understudy for the underdog / uphill rumor / fine-toothed cunt

- Franny Choi, “Turing Test”, from Death by Sex Machine

Elesh Norn, Grand Cenobite (art by Igor Kieryluk)

There is a gravitational pull this painting exerts on people. Even people who don’t get Phyrexia find themselves drawn in, find it difficult to look away (e.g. 26:30 in that Rhystic Studies video.) I have for a long time maintained that Elesh Norn is the hottest character in Magic, and that Kieryluk’s portrayal of her is the best art in Magic, and neither of these opinions are particularly surprising coming from me. What is surprising is just how many people also converge on Miss Multiverse’s-Most-Fuckable-Pyramid-Head as, not just a sex icon of Magic: the Gathering, but the sex icon.

Well, or is it? Giant anchor-shaped porcelain mask aside, her silhouette is more or less that of a painfully-thin woman; she stands fully twelve feet tall, and we remember how wild everyone went over Resident Evil: Village’s woman who was only three-quarters of that; and though not an artificial intelligence herself, it’s hard not to place her somewhere in the Cyberqueen lineage. Like SHODAN, like GladOS, like Cyberqueen, she exerts a near-omnipotent level of control over (part of) her world; like them, she is a megalomaniacal egotist (though she cloaks her egotism in piety); like them, she is happy to render you more useful to her via surgery, brainwashing, or deadly neurotoxin. Her mask obscures where her eyes would be, and if I’ve learned anything from a decade of playing or mostly watching other people play the various Dark Souls games, it’s that people go apeshit for character designs without visible eyes (see also: the xenomorph from Alien; I did a whole thing on this subject somewhere back in the Wifelink archive.) So you’ve got a 12′ nigh-omnipotent eyeless dominatrix mostly shaped like a skinny woman, which is maybe pushing a whole lot of buttons at once for a lot of people.

As a character, we don’t know much about her: at some point, she became undisputed leader of the Machine Orthodoxy, the cultiest bit of New Phyrexia. At a later point, she became the extremely-disputed leader of New Phyrexia as a whole. She likes long walks on the beach and multiversal Phyrexian dominion, you get it. There is, however, one good story featuring her, and it is “A Garden of Flesh” by Lora Gray (sorry to give you additional reading in a five-thousand-word essay.) The story is interesting because it is the rare story told from a Phyrexian point of view, and because it flies in the face of many of our assumptions about Phyrexian interiority. Phyrexians, we’re told, lack souls. They’re unfeeling, more machine than man. They most certainly don’t dream.

“A Garden of Flesh” is what happens when Ashiok, planeswalker architect of nightmares and an eyeless smokeshow in their own right, gets curious about whether they can induce nightmares in a Phyrexian mind. What follows is a curiously-effective piece of body & transformation horror, told from the point of view of what is supposed to be the awful endpoint of transformation horror. What does a perfect, powerful biomechanical creature fear? The organic, soft, spongy. Putrefaction. Decay. What does such a creature fear becoming? Human.

I didn’t devote a fifth of this essay to Elesh Norn just because she’s unbelievably hot (although dayenu), but because of this story, and how it complicates our thesis. The horror of transformation is traversible, yes, but what will you find on the other side? More transformation. More horror. And transformation is inevitable: who of us are who we expected to be? Who of us still hold dear the precious things of childhood? And even you few who are raising your hands right now, you too will experience transformation. Should you live long enough, you will find yourself changing. Your body and mind will grow rebellious, unreliable. You will grow old. You will decay.

And yet—it’s a matter of perspective, of where you weight your focus, isn’t it? There will always be more transformation and more horror, but there will always be a way through it. There will always be another shore upon the other side. You will change. You will become unrecognizable to who you were before. You will be fine.

Incompleat Bibliography & Further Reading/Viewing/Playing

Rhystic Studies, “Phyrexia is Hell”, 2023. H. P. Lovecraft, The Shadow over Innsmouth, 1931. Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House, 1959. Alex Garland, Annihilation, 2018. Harlan Ellison, “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”, 1967. Ken Levine, System Shock 2, 1999. —never played it myself. Mostly I just open up a youtube video of SHODAN voice lines when I want to get belittled by an AI dominatrix. Valve, Portal 2, 2011. —there is a lot more to be said about GladOS and Elesh Norn specifically and their respective fraught relationships with the idea of their own humanity. Porpentine Charity Heartscape, Cyberqueen, 2012. —whence my chapter header screenshots. Seriously, this game fucks so hard. Franny Choi, Death by Sex Machine, 2017. —Choi is making extensive use of cyborg metaphor to address the specific experience of being a Korean-American woman. This is very different from anything I’m talking about, but it also always felt extremely relevant to me as a trans woman. Subaltern-to-subaltern communication. Lora Gray, “A Garden of Flesh,” 2022. —it’s no accident that the author of the one good story told from a Phyrexian POV is nonbinary. hbomberguy, “Outsiders: How To Adapt H.P. Lovecraft In the 21st Century”, 2018. Jacob Geller, “Who’s Afraid of Modern Art: Vandalism, Video Games, and Fascism”, 2019. Caitlín R Kiernan, The Drowning Girl: A Memoir, 2012. —only tangentially relevant, except insofar as it recontextualizes the Lewis Carroll line I open the essay with, and insofar as it is my favorite novel and I’m writing the bibliography. Debatable whether it counts as transformation horror, and I imagine the author would bridle at its being described as horror, but nevertheless: you should read this book.

#magic the gathering #phyrexia

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celaenaeiln · 7 months

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“always an angel, never a god” and making it about the robins with batman is heartbreaking and all but have you considered:

the robins to the previous robin.

robins 2-5 looking at robin 1. the hero worship, the love they have for dick grayson. they want to live up to “the golden boy” “the golden standard”. they want to make him proud.

but dick grayson himself? he looks at batman, in his eyes he doesn’t live up to his mentor. sure he thinks he’s good, but it’s not like he thinks he’s the best. to himself, he isn’t “the golden child”, he’s not “the golden standard”, there’s too many mistakes, too many sins, to make him view himself the way others view him

“always an angel, never a god.”

Anon are you providing a sample? Drop the album!!

Just - Perfect.

There's actually a time when Damian is feuding with Tim about something and he's like Grayson is the "Golden Child", Todd is the "Black Sheep", and you're something something. He didn't actually say "something something" but you get the point. Damian doesn't like to be forthcoming with his words, but - "We were the best, Richard. No matter what anyone thinks." THOSE WORDS CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH. The fact that Damian literally calls him the golden child tho is literally ascending me. He loves his dad.

Jason gets fear-gassed once in Truth & Justice (2021) comic and it reveals that one his worst fears has always been about living up to the massive legacy Dick left behind. There's a change in the way Dick is portrayed because Jason is terrified of Nightwing, not Dick. Because he knows that Dick loves him and stuff but Nightwing is downright petrifiying. Because Nightwing and as Robin, Dick created the firsts for everything. The first partner, the first side-kick, the person who created their world. Not just Jason's but Dick opened up the gateway to Every. Single. Hero. That came after him. And he did it perfectly. He excelled in every aspect imaginable and then surpassed them to create the golden standard that every single person that came after strived to touch. Not just for what they should do, but who they should be.

Tim straight up tells Dick to his face every time that Dick is the best robin that ever existed. No squalms, no hesitation, it's just pure fact for Tim. There is simply, no one better.

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War: Scorched Earth

Stephanie didn't have a lot of interactions with Dick and she wasn't close to him but she still had a huge deal of respect for him. It was almost deference, the way she treated him. I considered that it might be because he was Batman but she treated Batman very differently than she treated Dick!bats.

But despite literally every single Robin thinking how perfect Dick is, how unattainable he set the standards, Dick himself feels so pale in comparison to his mentor.

I wrote this post a long while back regarding Dick's thoughts of insecurities about bruce to the tune of Toxic Thoughts by Faith Marie which pretty much encapsulates all his worries. But the thing is, even Bruce tells dick how amazing he is and he's so much better than him, and he means it.

There's a time when Bruce fights each of his former robins and he takes them all down easily but he's trekking his way to the last one and he's says "Attack of the Robins, that leaves only the first one. Hand-to-hand, the toughest of them all." He says this all in his mind. Which means when he tells Dick he's better, he really means it but Dick? Dick will never, ever understand the weight of Bruce's sincerity towards him. He always thinks he's not a good enough leader, good enough detective, good enough whatever there is. In his mind he will never be good as Bruce in anyway because for him Bruce is the best person to ever exist. For him, despite everyone in the entire superhero community exalting him and singing his praises, he feels he'll never be like his hero.

"always an angel, never a god."

Anon, that - 😌🤌✨

Glorious. Simply a magnificently apt description.

But you know who this insecurity really affects more than him?

The Robins! Literally everyone else!

You know, there's actually panel about Roy that explains how he feels about Dick's insecurities towards Bruce-

Arsenal Issue #2

And the reason why I brink it up is because I think this is exactly how Jason feels about Dick. In Jason's eyes there is no one better than Dick and it's a nasty feeling that the person he thinks it the best feels inferior to someone else.

Tim also has opinions on the same line except in his case, he hates Dick's unconditional loyalty towards Bruce (yes I'm referencing gotham knights). He loves Bruce but he hates that Dick loves him to the point that he'll follow him endlessly because he has this romanticized, rose-sunglasses view of Bruce. WHICH IRONICALLY ROY ALSO FEELS-

The Titans (1999) Issue #15

Gotham Knights Issue #26

Where it bothers Roy and Jason that Dick would think anyone is better than him, it rankles Tim and Roy that he's being subservient to a mentor he's far better than.

Even Steph was like, "Dude we need you. Where were you?"

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #2

And Dick's like "Bruce needed me.."

Batman and Robin Eternal Issue #2

He looks so tired, doing God's bidding. But this aligns perfectly with the fact that Bruce has a canonical god complex AKA consistently inflated feelings of personal ability, privilege, or infallibility. People who have god complexes are highly dogmatic in their views, meaning the person speaks of their personal opinions as though they were unquestionably correct.

Literally and metaphorically he's an actual angel because he works as a messenger of God (Bruce in the DC world) and is the epitome of goodness, someone who always offers comfort and aid to everyone.

#He's always so kind and good regardless of the consequences he'll recieve from his goodwill and if that isn't an angel then what is?#dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #roy harper #arsenal #stephanie brown #spoiler #batman

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youremyheaven · 9 months

Text

Random Vedic Astrology Observations

Adele who is Ardra Rising and Lana Del Rey who is Ardra Sun both have a Paradise tattoo on the side of their hand

This is very interesting symbolism because Ardra nakshatra is preceded by Mrigashira nak which follows the fall from Paradise.

2. Pisces natives 🤝🏼 sculptures

L to R

Rihanna- Revati Stellium (including Moon & Rising)

Ava Gardner- Ketu in (1 degree Pisces) Purvabhadrapada

Bella Hadid- Ketu in UBP

Rosie Huntington Whiteley- UBP Mercury & Rahu, Mars in Purvabhadrapada (0 degrees Pisces) and Jupiter in Revati atmakaraka

Jin- UBP Moon

Isabelle Adjani- Revati Rising

Salma Hayek- UBP Moon

3. Jyeshtas really love jewellery

Vidya Balan- Mercury in Jyeshta (atmakaraka)

Rekha- Jyeshta Rising

Kim Kardashian- Jyeshta Rising

Nicki Minaj- Jyeshta Sun

4. I'd earlier made an observation about how Mars influenced men tend to go after older women and I thought I'd add a few more examples to that list!!

Sachin Tendulkar & Anjali Tendulkar have an age gap of 6 years and their wedding was hugely controversial when it took place in the 90s. Sachin was only 22 when he got married.

Sachin has Mars in Dhanishta atmakaraka and Moon in Purvashada amatyakaraka

Shikhar Dhawan and his ex-wife Ayesha Mukerji have an age gap of 10 years.

Shikhar is Dhanishta Rising, Mars in Chitra atmakaraka with Purvaphalguni Moon

Arjun Kapoor and Malaika Arora have an age gap of 12 years

He is most likely Chitra Rising

He also has Venus (amatyakaraka) conjunct Rahu in Bharani

I know that Bharani is Venus ruled but Bharani is the confluence of Mars & Venus energies and is ruled by the Mars ruled Aries and is another nakshatra that commonly appears in the charts of men drawn to older women

Aditya Pancholi is 6 years younger than his wife Zarina Wahab

He has Sun in Purva Ashadha, Venus amatyakaraka (in Jyeshta) Jupiter in Bharani and Rahu in Mrigashira

Karan Singh Grover is 6 years younger than Bipasha Basu

He has Moon in Dhanishta, Mars (amatyakaraka) conjunct Saturn (atmakaraka) in Chitra with Ketu in Purva Ashada

Vicky Kaushal is 5 years younger than Katrina Kaif

He has Venus in Mrigashira, Mars in Dhanishta, Jupiter (amatyakaraka) in Bharani, Ketu in Purva phalguni

Farhan Akhtar and his first wife, Adhuna Akhtar have an age gap of 7 years.

Farhan has Sun (atmakaraka) conjunct Mercury (amatyakaraka) in Purva Ashada and Saturn conjunct Ketu in Mrigashira

idk if im crazy but i think these 2 women have similar features 😭😭

Zhou Xun is Chitra Sun, Anuradha Moon, Swati Mercury, Chitra Venus & Mars

Ning Ning is Chitra Sun, Bharani Moon, Swati Venus and Ketu in Anuradha

6. Rihanna has a tattoo of Goddess Isis on her chest

Rihanna is Revati Moon and Goddess Isis had powers like love, healing, fertility, protection, wisdom and magic. By virtue of her magical knowledge, she was said to be "more clever than a million gods". Revati nakshatra natives are endowed with divine spiritual wisdom and the deity of Revati, Pushan is the Sun-god in the form of Divine Guide and Nourisher, who helps us to find the right path and leads us to the right solutions.

Revati represents wisdom, empathy, unconditional love, fertility, growth, prosperity & spirituality.

7. Harry Houdini was a Hungarian-American escape artist, illusionist, and stunt performer, noted for his escape acts.

He has UBP Sun, Mrigashira Moon, Venus in Revati (exalted) and Ketu in Swati with Shravana Rising

Swati is connected to Maya or illusion so it makes sense as to why someone who has Ketu placed there would become notorious for hoodwinking the public.

Mrigashira nakshatra involves HEAVY themes of running away, escape and being trapped AND finding a way out. If you look at the mythology, its about Brahma's favourite daughter who takes the form of a deer to leave the heavens and run away to the earth to escape her father's sexual advances towards her.

Pisces rashi is almost always present in the charts of magicians or people who have some kind of illusory appeal on the public. Most mega successful celebrities have prominent Pisces placements, most supremely talented actors and singers do. The ability to put yourself out there yet remain completely mysterious and keep people under a veil is a uniquely Piscean trait.

Obviously with that Shravana Asc, he was basically born for this job. Moon dominant people are ADEPT at manipulation and making black seem like white or vice versa.

Dua Lipa recently released a song titled Houdini and she's Punarvasu Moon which I think is another nakshatra that is good at casting illusions.

#sidereal astrology #astrology notes #vedic astro notes #astrology observations #vedic astrology #nakshatras #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astroblr

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the-monkeies-girl · 3 months

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Caesar with his gray hairs makes me go feral, hate to be blunt but like he looks so fine. Love my men older

Why are you so real for this? ( Barks degradingly. )

There was something different about him, your mind tugged on its own self to figure out the clues that Caesar was peppering you with as you watched him place a berry into his mouth. Languid as if he were teasing you, his green gaze flickering to you once as he chewed and then again once he swallowed.

'Staring,' The King signed at you as you drew your gaze to the shared bowl of fruit you were both meant to be enjoying before you found yourself gawking at your mated love. 'Rude. You,' Caesar swiped his teeth against his canines, the movement evident as it brought your attention down to his beard and you were captivated by the thickened fur that tapered near his mouth, down the entire scape of his entire rough but acutely sensitive body. At least, sensitive to your stare and your eyes only. 'Told me that.'

'Sorry,' You signed half-heartedly and continued onwards. 'Have you... done something new to your look? Different. Don't know what.' 'No.' Caesar was perplexed at that, giving you minor side eye as you traced the features you had grown to love in your time at the Colony. The features that he chose to let you love and touch with admiration and affection. He was lying, your brain spiked and your eyes narrowed. Something was different. Humming deep in your chest, you looked over at Blue Eyes who had been paying attention to the conversation but would never admit to that willingly and you tilted your head towards Caesar, ever so slightly asking the younger Ape if he noticed anything unusual. He was mid-chew at that, only shaking his head and looking at his Father's broad shoulders as he was sitting slightly behind the two of you. Dropping it, you rested your shoulders forward and plucked a few berries to pop into your mouth, unable to turn attention to anything but your beloved as he munched upon his own sustenance.

It finally hits you when you're alone in the nest together, finally able to see him in more vivid light when you two are around the fire-pit that rested there, the flames crackling a beautiful orangey glow against his gait as he walked from one side to the other, almost pacing in nature but you knew he was preparing his things to depart early in the morning on a scouting expedition with the council. "Caesar, can you come here?" You asked, feigning innocence as your eyes were amply spread, your lips parting in the way that he enjoyed. There was a heightened sense of anticipation at your words, at the implications that drew him closer to you, every step that curled his toes before they exploded under his weight a tiny bit more heady. Caesar knew it was coming, your onslaught. You always gave it to him before he'd leave. It came as a mild surprise though that you were waiting until the very last--- Your hand was in his beard, Caesar looking into your eyes at any indication of what your thought was, green settling after they were crazed for information. Rarely did you touch him this ardently to begin with. Shy and reserved was often the way to go, so incredibly Human to Caesar but he understood the sentiment of you being nude and being near to him as a sacred thing that took time to crack open. Scavenging your hand through, Caesar let out the smallest of growls as you tugged roughly, bringing his face inwards to inspect. A mild exaltation left your parted mouth, sounding like a mixture of a moan and a sense of relief. "You--- You're starting to gray." His brow hardened, the hand that he had ghosting over your ribcage in readiness to pull you to him raising as he signed, 'Gray?' "Your fur, you have---" There was a soft giggle from you, "Gray in it. I--- I didn't know that Chimps got gray fur like that." Must have been more pronounced because of the ALZ? Caesar watched your reaction, noting a small build up of sweat against your forehead as you trudged your hand into his beard again and urged him forward, the sudden smell of your arousal knocking on his front door and the yearn in the drop of his navel sprung to life on its own.

"It's kinda..." Your eyebrows raised in a suggestive manner and the grasp you hand on his beard dissipated as you dropped it down to his chest, further down to tickle at the very navel that he was yelping for release from and Caesar urged his much larger body against your own, subdued but you were there to catch him slightly as you flattened your hand there and drew yourself to your knees. The Ape King blinked. Not once, not twice. Three times as he recognized the glimmer in the mirrored glaze of your irises, farther away from him know but the position you put yourself only meant one thing and he wasn't going to take that away from you. Or from himself. "Think you got gray everywhere?" Your breathing was picking up, evident from the shift in your shoulders as you brought your hands down, past the stiffened muscle of his pelvic to his thighs were you rubbed the inner most part, Caesar staggering above you to keep calm and collected as the fur aligning his collarbones stood on end. "You..." Dropped baritone tickled the inside of your ears and left you shivering softly, leaning in and placing the tiniest of fleeting kisses to his left thigh, Caesar tightening himself up again at that, "Should... check for me..." Like he even needed to ask, you rolled your eyes at him in a bratty fashion and drew your face closer to his own arousal. "What if I find more?" Caesar was huffing through his nose wildly at this point, keeping his hands in check as to not allow himself to take it all too soon, to give you a bit of grace knowing that this was the sort of thing that garnered your utmost attention and diligence, "I..." Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath in and nodded himself into minor submission, "Will let you... do what you please to me..." There was no contemplation, a small smirk rising against your cheeks, "You're on, Ape King."

#caesar #caesar x reader #pota #planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #caesar pota #fanfiction #fanfic

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planetsstarsandmoons · 2 years

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Synastry observations based on personal experience, part 4:

(18+!!!)

Mars/venus first house overlay: gets a bad reputation, because people feel like this overlay is ‘superficial’ due to the fact that the first house signifies what people show of their personality to the outside, aka their ‘looks’ and also their physical appearance. They forget that what you externalise in the house of the externalised ego is you, your ego. That’s you! Your ego is a very deep and important thing about you. For some people it’s a more important than for others of course. The way you dress, laugh, look and walk and look, that *is* a deep aspect about your personality. Like those things *are* personal. For some people like mars or venus dominant people it’s the ideal placement, because this is a fiery placement keeps people from being ~bored~ with who the other is, which often happens in a bad marriage. It’s why this aspect is called thee great aspect for marriage. It’s great!

Venus opposite saturn: does not pose as big of an issue if the people have either venus in 10th house or saturn in 7th house natally. There is more acceptance, understanding and ‘seeing things the other way’ that way. It can also manifest in the honeymoon stage just being enlonged and the problems showing up later.. with the ‘honeymoon stage’ in this aspect I mean that this bond feels pretty karmic and paternalistic and awesome in the beginning, in a way that feels super attractive, safe and interesting to the venus person who’s in awe of saturn, and super intense, fulfilling and a little anxiety inducing for the saturn person involved, who enjoys venus’s quirks and air for themselves so much that they become against it and will call them things like ‘childish’ as time goes on. This doesn’t happen if there’s good trust and communication in the relationship. Most often the ‘emotional pain’ that is seen as inevitable with some synastry aspects according to some people, are only inevitable for people who really don’t know how to deal with other people in relationships. You’ll be alright when you have some supporting aspects to this.

Mars-lilith: mars and lilith have a lot in common: they are independent, sexual, feisty and go after their own fleeting pleasures. Only mars isn’t a social pariah, stays on earth and lilith is so she’s up in the air like a bird. Lilith, as the outcast, is someone who wants to impress mars to prove something to herself. Mars is someone wants to dominate lilith, to prove something to himself and also to her. You can see they have a lot of natural (sexual) chemistry but they’re sh*t for the long term lol. Mars is still part of the ‘ordinary world’ and lilith is still traumatized by that world. In harsher aspects, the empathy towards each other will be non existent. The same can even go for sympathy between the two. Also, the ‘colour’ of this union will of course depend on the signs they are in.

Moon conjunct jupiter: Why does my pisces moon have immediate soulmate-like crushes on men born in 1962/63? Oh, that’s why. I’ve had it the other way around too and I’ve seen a lovely couple with this, but I feel like this definetely gets exalted in pisces. Jupiter ~loves~ the moon person. Moon person’s entire emotional/private self fuels and twinflames jupiter person’s entire inspirational and idealistic self. The moon person feels safe while still feeling inspired and adventarous with the jupiter person. Jupiter basically adores the moon, and even that gets expanded due to the expansive and almost indulgent nature of this aspect. The moon person wants to be with jupiter. They feel their emotional self inspired and exalted when they are with them and it can be for some (for me) a very rare feeling of being so comfortable and happily understood and inspired by the other. I’ve always found this one of the best relationship aspects you can have, for me at least it’s the best because with my scorpio sun pisces moon and sag rising, that optimistic jupiternan energy on my most vulnurable side is exactly what I’m looking for.

Mars conjunct chiron: the only sexual aspect that will make a man want to marry his female partner.

Sun/venus/mercury fifth house overlay: ever had that feeling of ‘ooh this person is going to be here, now this occasion is worth it/interesting/~a party~’ and you almost saw it as like a crush? Did it feel a little juvenile? That’s this one.

Mars fifth house or in that mix^: oh and you do have a crush on this person, highly likely. Are you going ‘oh my god, oh my god, it’s him/her’ when he arrives in like an almost funny and very juvinile way? That’s this one. Okay so now I’m taking a girl reading this as the norm, but for a guy that crush would happen with venus added in the fifth house. This/these overlay(s) cause butterflies and first love vibes for the house person, giggling like a teenager and thinking the planet person is soo cool and fun and attractive. The planet person releases their inhibitions around the house person and becomes leo-esque, like the party version or radio-edition of themselves.

Saturn conjunct an angle: weirdly enough, this aspect is not much talked about on the internet but I assume that is because people don’t have a lot to add to this one. I do. I believe this aspect can be extremely significant in reading a synastry chart romantically. So, to begin with I feel like this aspect, like a lot in synastry, plays out differently irl based on the genders of the people involved. What I’ve found is that saturn conjunct an angle in heterosexual relationships, where the guy is saturn and the angle person is a girl, the guy is easily bound to fall in love with the angle girl. This is because saturn imposes their mix of care, ownership, restriction responsibility, security, dedication, reality, commitment and karma on your angle which basically stands for a fundamental part slash pillar of your existence. Aka, this aspect is a patriarchal wet dream. The hero-instinct is immensly triggered here. This guy’s (who I also had a pretty large age gap with for our early twenties) saturn was tightly conjunct my IC, the most vulnerable angle, standing for my fourth house of the home and, using other astrologer’s phrasing, where ‘my soul is seated’. We were not together yet, but would unsolicited go “yeah, that’s important that you do that” and after some inquiring about anything “be careful that you don’t” blabla like it mattered to him. The vibe was very much like he could say “look, as your husband” and me reacting like “excuse me??” Same guy also had his saturn tightly conjunct my even younger friend’s ASC and it’s like he picked her to be like his little sister! even though they didn’t know each other that well. He would be very protective of her (although i think he could have done more, but that’s another story) and hype her up whenever she walked into a room, it was very cute. Conjuncting DSC I’d imagine it would play out like saturn worrying about the people DSC hangs out with and feeling a sense of dictatorship(?) over her social angle and who she’s seeking love from. Brooding protectiveness over the fact that DSC has been going out again with many guys who may not be up to good. Like I said, this aspect is the patriarchal wet dream. Conjuncting MC it would be exactly like jiwoo and sungmin from Age of Yourh. Making sure he’s right behind her in her goals at all times to protect her, almost like a cynical bodyguard, but somehow equal-ish partners that compliment each other. Back to saturn conjunct IC, the IC is the ingebakken way of managing things and the way you close your eyes for rest. Saturn conjuncting this part of you is like them barging into your house and giving you pills while you’re, like, there in your underwear. This angle aspect does create a deep kind of bond I’d guess. It’s still lunar! With the AC I think it’s the physical air and appearance that someone gives off that makes saturn think that they’re smol and need guidance. This is what I imagine a first impression would be like! Not getting into the relationship itself but like, you could guess. I’d say the ASC and MC conjunction will flourish as platonic and be doomed when it gets romantic and the DSC and IC conjunction will flourish as romantic and be doomed as platonic. In the right kind of relationship these conjunctions can be like ‘ahww’ and wholesome but in the wrong kind of relationship, these conjunctions could cause a major, and I can’t describe this any other way, ‘f*ck of!!!’ 😂

Moon trine mercury: I call this the best friend aspect because I’ve shared this aspect with every friend I could talk with for hours and enjoy it. Even if you don’t share the same kind of humor you can still laugh and communicate and basically enjoy each other’s brain ! I like this aspect in romantic relationships, too, because this aspect kills the potential awkward silence and it adds that green flag communication with e/o when official. This isn’t like the conjunction were the two bodies are so bang on alike that it becomes like a battle between the one person’s mind and the one person’s emotions. There is a harmonious distance that actually brings the people closer together and creates that intimacy. With the trine you constantly greatly appreciate what the other person adds to the table. This is communication that flows non-verbally as well, like through touches and looks.

Moon opposite mars: chrissttt, not to be vulgar but you both know you just want to.. do the deed together 💀 almost as if after 10 mins of talking you’ve already decided that in your head

Mars sextile moon/venus I feel like the energy that flows through the trine causes sexual arousal and through the sextile it causes a very wholesome emotional arousal. Great aspect no matter which gender.

Chiron conjunct sun: get ready to get your feelings hurt if you’re the chiron person! Well, the way this feels is actually: the sun person will just be hitting you where you’re vulnurable but most likely you’ll like it and feel almost soothed, even. I’ve had this both ways. It’s a great and genuine aspect to have.

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ddarker-dreams · 1 year

Text

Nexus II.

Yandere Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Descriptions of Blade's body regeneration ability, Blade is just kinda weird idk, some spoilers for his backstory. Word count: 6k.

Nexus index.

The LOTUS-EATER’s maximum capacity tops out at 124. This number takes current fire codes and oxygen generator parameters into account. There are eight Arbiters — including yourself — and fifteen other employees who work The Club floor on rotation. Additionally, some automatons assist with carrying refreshments to clients. Lucky for you, those fellas aren’t on the payroll.

The other twenty-two are, though.

Nona swings her legs back and forth while sitting on the main bar’s countertop, humming a song from an underground band she likes. She’s sent you a link to their discography enough times that you recognize the URL immediately and know not to tap on it.

“Hey, mom, dad, we’re on the news. ‘IPC Places Eris Under Temporary Travel Ban While Investigating Claims of Fraud’. Why didn’t anyone tell me we were doing fraud? Was I not invited to the group chat?” Nona hums.

You glance up from your account book, sigh, then glance back down.

Meanwhile, Lear carries a hefty wooden crate from the back and places it on the floor. The sound of muffled glass clinking together can be heard, along with liquid sloshing.

“You shouldn’t make jokes like that,” he frowns. He shoos her off the counter with a wet rag, to which she takes refuge behind you. He rolls his eyes at her shenanigans, ties up his sandy hair, then gets to cleaning. “People could get the wrong idea. It’d tarnish [First]’s reputation.”

Snickering, she replies, “And casually referring to Our-Lord-And-Savior-The-Exalted-One by her first name wouldn’t?”

He bristles. “You…!”

On instinct, he winds up his arm, wielding the now dirty rag as his ammunition. He pauses when Nona points at you. Seeing that there’s no way to hit his target without you joining the casualties, he huffs, and returns to shining glasses, using excessive force this time.

Nona sticks her tongue out at him. After celebrating her victory, she situates herself on a nearby barstool, stretching her arms out beside your workspace like a content cat preparing to nap.

“You’ve been staring at that silly book forever,” she notes, exasperation coloring her tone. “I know you aren’t reading it, either. Your eyes give you away. So, what’s up?”

You shuffle in your seat. This line of questioning was inevitable as the four moons that hang everlasting in the sky, taking in everything as impartial observers. During instances like this, you envy the marvelous masses, how they can exist peacefully without living. No one asks the moon troubling questions. Or, if they do, they have more pressing issues at hand than their spoken query.

“It’s nothing,” you dismiss.

She blows a tuft of hair from her face. “Hey, Lear.”

“Mm?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Well, yes, I’m only standing a few feet away.”

“Right, right. Let me ask a trickier question then, since that one was obviously way too easy for someone of your intellect. Do you believe her?”

“I…” he swallows thickly. “... Yes?”

Nona throws her arms up. “Gah! I’m surrounded by liars who can’t lie. That’s almost worse than liars who can lie— blegh, hey, did you actually throw a rag at me?”

The rag in question slides down the side of her head and hits the ground with a sad squelch.

“I’ll do it again too. You shouldn’t bother [First]—” Lear abruptly cuts himself off at the last syllable of your name, “The exalted one when she’s trying to concentrate.”

You raise your head and frown. “Lear, I told you. Call me by my name when it’s just us. It feels wrong if you don’t.”

“Seriously? That’s what gets your attention?” Nona laments.

You both elect to ignore her.

“I know, I know. It’s just… what if he comes back?”

Silence descends and clings to the three of you like the suffocating scent of smoke. It’s there again, the uncomfortable, skin-prickling sensation of eyes sticking to you. Amber and sapphire coalesce into one, unspoken plea, forming a disconcerting shade. Nona’s visage betrays nothing, whereas Lear’s concern would be obvious from galaxies away.

You square your shoulders and try to make yourself appear as decisive as you need to sound. “I’ll know when he’s back. He’ll text so I can let him in.”

The two exchange knowing looks. It’s Nona who tries her luck.

“That’s reassuring and all, but, I think the question Lear wanted to ask is why that man’s here in the first place.”

Magenta eyes, rosy iris’, words that drip like venom-coated honey.

When you asked how you should explain Blade’s presence to your staff, she told you she’d hate to abuse her authority, and that you’re free to decide those specifics yourself. You would’ve preferred some guidance or hint at her expectations in such a pivotal situation. It’s easier to avoid a landmine if you know how to best watch your step. The uncharacteristic lack of instructions goes on to birth unease.

“My answer hasn’t changed. He’s here to act as my bodyguard until some concerns are settled.”

Nona’s lips twist to the side. “You never wanted a bodyguard before.”

“I never needed one before.”

A glass shatters violently.

You and Nona snap your head toward the noise’s origin, finding Lear’s face wound tight in pain. You both jump the counter. The remains of crystal shards are strewn across the floor, catching and refracting light. Watching your step, you make your way over to Lear, who is muttering expletives under his breath.

No, that isn’t right, you realize. His lips aren’t moving.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tries waving off Nona, who is inspecting the hand that held the glass, “Just an accident, s’all.”

The private tumult boiling in his head threatens to overflow, stating loud and clear thoughts no one other than himself should be privy to. You grimace and focus on blocking the intrusive voice out. It’s so resounding, so sharp, that snippets penetrate through and spill their scathing secrets.

‘My fault — should’ve killed — now she’s — because of me…!’

Block it out, block it out, block it out, you chant the mantra incessantly.

Lear’s psyche wishes to illuminate itself to you in its entirety. The spotlights turn on one by one, focusing intently on the visible portion of the stage that any audience member can see. The overlapping beams penetrate the stage’s back curtain, revealing the silhouettes of the backstage crew.

You don’t want to witness these delicate inner workings. It isn’t for your eyes, his thoughts aren’t for your ears. Sins committed in days past grant you a front-row seat and sew your eyes wide open. You haven’t attended this theater in some time, so it brought the show to you.

It requires great effort to struggle against the needle and thread that wants to practice its stitches on you. This pain that feels like your skull is being crushed beneath an anchor could ease away if you were a good audience member who sat still and mute. You resist subservience at the cost of yourself. Eventually, the lights dim. The stage’s back curtain turns opaque. The actors shift their shouts into a normal speaking volume, a whisper, then finally, stop orating altogether.

Your mind’s dictation is decided by you — the ink of Lear’s thoughts expunged.

You’re aware of your physical surroundings again.

Presently, you’re crouching down on the floor. You move your foot back to maintain balance, and there’s a crunch, warning you to tread carefully. You inhale and exhale shakily. At this sign of lucidity, Nona and Lear crowd over you, repeating your name on a loop. You check twice to ensure their mouths are indeed moving and you aren’t hearing what you shouldn’t. Once you dispel your fears, relief embraces you.

This paroxysm has run its course.

Nona’s shoulders slump. “It’s okay, it’s over. She fixed it.”

They both hold their breath until you nod in agreement.

Lear extends his hand to help stand you up, to which Nona swats at it.

“No touching,” she reminds. Sternness doesn’t sound right in her cadence. He considers arguing, only to decide against it. His fingers twitch, go still, then recede.

You have to stand on your own strength.

Neither of them knows what to say in the immediate aftermath — it’s been so long that they’re out of practice. While they think over the best-sounding platitudes, you spare your phone a glance. Several messages mar the screen from an unknown sender. The most recent is time-stamped at five minutes ago.

You grumble a few choice words.

“Mr. Personality is back?” Nona asks.

“Yeah, I’ll handle it,” you close your account book and fold it under your arm. “You both should head home, it’s late. Just let Loopy take care of the glass shards.”

Nona gives a mock salute. After a moment’s consideration, Lear nods.

And so the three of you part ways.

Your fingers blindly grope at the expanse beneath your desk. Finally, you come in contact with a protrusion, then press it. Electricity thrums then turns hushes. For peace of mind, you glide your hand through the air. A holographic keyboard flickers into existence and responds to your vigorous keystrokes. The monitor reads that your noise-canceling software is up to date. It prevents sound waves from escaping a perimeter you’ve set. It’s installed in every room on the second floor, which includes the private rooms in The Lounge, your office, and the bedroom attached to said office.

Ever since Kafka started slinking around, the software’s uptime has increased exponentially.

Unlike Kafka, Blade doesn’t sit across from you or relax on the couch against the silver-colored wall. He stands by the door that leads to the hallway like a statue. He hasn’t so much as uttered a word to you since you let him in, not that you put in much effort to rouse conversation. It isn’t as childish as him ignoring you, either, you swear his eyes haven’t left you for a millisecond.

The keyboard and monitor dissipate at the flick of your wrist.

“I know I said I didn’t have anything major scheduled this week, but the IPC’s new policy changes things,” you start. Still no reaction. Frowning, you continue, “I’ll have to break the house arrest you’ve imposed.”

He doesn’t so much as blink. You thought a little provocation might earn you some material to work with, but you thought wrong.

“Who will be there?” Blade asks.

Instead of experiencing relief that he’s broken his vow of silence, tension coils its barbed limbs around you. It refuses to squeeze or apply any pressure. No, it intentionally denies you that, for it knows pain precedes understanding. A motive, an intention. Any degree of emotion is better than an unknowable void. Frustration, you can soothe, doubt, you can dispel, but total apathy? That’s a nightmare crossed into reality.

“The other two leaders of the quadrants and myself.”

At long last, there's a sign he is indeed a sentient lifeform and not the latest android model. A flash passes over his eyes. Suspicion or disbelief, perhaps.

“Shouldn’t there be four leaders, if the city’s divided into quadrants?”

“That’s a fair assumption. As far back as our records date, the southwestmost quadrant, Arc, has rejected the idea of having any fixed governance. They act however they see fit. It’s where that man who attacked me a few cycles back was sent to, since we look down on involuntary confinement.”

“The prison planet without prisons,” Blade’s wry wording belies his flat tone.

It’s always been a divisive topic, earning scorn and acclaim alike. You’ve had the misfortune of listening to clients regurgitate talking points that were made digestible by popular media, who started the cycle by devouring journal articles they read one paragraph of. They repeat what’s been said thousands of times with the bravado of the original theorist. Normally, you’d consider it more agreeable to bash your head against a wall than speak on the exhausted topic.

So why is it a kindling of intrigue burns by a Stellaron Hunter’s offhand comment?

“What’s this? The wanted criminal isn’t a proponent of prison abolition?”

“Every decision comes at a price,” he says. “Sins should be punished.”

You blink. Sins? Punishment? Is this a textbook case of cognitive dissonance, or another beast entirely?

“What do you consider a sin?”

“Anything that defies the natural order.”

“Such as…?”

The maelstrom that envelops him is potent enough for you to feel it breathing down your neck. Your body prickles all over.

“Defying death.”

“Not inflicting it?”

“No,” Blade’s response is immediate, straight from the heart. “Taking life is permissible. It’s accelerating the inevitable.”

This callous sentiment should chill you — maybe it would, if you heeded the alarm bells ringing in your mind — but fascination triumphs over any deterrent. This isn’t a creed one stumbles into by happenstance, it’s a burden made to order. His preoccupation with death is personal. A necessity.

“Show me what it’s like to die.”

Is this request self-flagellation or redemption?

If you’re ever to fulfill the Synalink you promised, you’ll need to dig deeper.

“There are ‘sins’ committed with altruistic intentions, though.”

“Hah,” he barks out a bitter laugh. “Those… those are the worst kind.”

This is a personal slight he’s grappling with. The shards scattered around him like stardust condense, though the sight they create remains out of focus. It doesn’t have to be a sharp picture for you to discern its immense stature.

Each person’s psyche is distinct in its manifestation. This image is a culmination of everything that defines them. Their core values, history, relationships, culture, ambitions both met and not fully realized; these colors leave an indelible imprint. In truth, this detailed representation is but a single dot amidst an ocean of stars. The mind of a sentient being must be vast if it is capable of ascending to an Aeon’s status. Still, you need something to work with, even if it doesn’t encompass the full scope. A pianist cannot play their instrument if there are no keys.

This scale, this sheer magnitude that towers higher the more you crane your neck up, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever encountered.

“... You’re going to give me a run for my money, Mr. 8.13 billion,” you murmur. “Your head looks like a warzone.”

He leans against the wall with a hmph.

“With all your impending problems, that’s what you choose to focus on?”

“I can multitask.”

“Can you?” He challenges. Sensing your confusion, he elaborates. “You look awful.”

Blade must be irresistible across all genders with that nuanced level of word crafting.

“I appreciate your candidness,” you deadpan.

He shakes his head at your sarcasm. “Don’t act obtuse. Your complexion’s off, your eyes are bloodshot… everything was fine when I left. Must have something to do with your earlier delay, I take it?”

You underestimated his acumen. This would explain why he’s been sizing you up since you opened the door. His sword proficiency isn’t the only threat you should be wary of. You know to be mindful of your presentation when Kafka’s skulking about, you didn’t think he’d need to be treated with a similar caution.

“It’s nothing serious, just your typical mental overexertion. There’s a lot on my plate, you said so yourself.”

“Hm.”

Whether he believes you or not, the conversation is left at that.

Transportation on Eris functions differently than what’s commonly found in other worlds.

Traditional gas-based motors aren’t favored due to the frigid climate. Instead, a gemstone mined in the Nectary by vetted groups is the preferred resource. It contains special thermodynamic properties that can emit immense power under the correct conditions. The gemstones have been altered and assembled in such a way that they function as a railroad for insulated cabins to travel from one station to another. These paths were nicknamed 'nectar guides’ or ’guides’ by the first engineers to embed them in the ground. This is in reference to how the eight main paths lead to Perianth II’s center, built above the Nectary.

The design serves a dual purpose — it optimizes travel and the heat radiating from the ground produces light. The accommodations have outworlders in mind. Your species, the Nymphalians, have long undergone enough natural selection to survive the hostile conditions fine enough. Your species’ eyesight excels in the dark and your physiology resists the cold. Aside from that, your body functions identical to any other humanoid species. The lone visible difference is a thin white ring around most Nymphalians’ iris’. You and Lear display this quality, Nona does not.

The cabin you sit in has a quaint design. There are plush, brown loveseats lining the wall, glowing orange lights in the arched ceiling, and light refreshments atop wooden table stands. It’s split into a common area and a bedroom suite. More enchanting than any ornate embellishment are the expansive windows. You only get to see your quadrant in person during these trips to Perianth II’s center and back.

“You warm enough?” You call over to Blade, who is bundled in extra layers of clothes and wearing an especially dour expression.

He doesn’t dignify your quip with a verbal reply.

This brief jaunt has earned his ire. For someone who’d likely prefer to be anywhere else, he’s taking this guard assignment quite seriously. He explained that taking this straightforward travel route begs for people with nefarious intent to come slithering out. You could see his point, but the matter isn’t up for dispute. Recent cyberattacks have called electronic communication into question. What you’ll be discussing with the others — Chrysus of Ade and Caicias of Mele — is highly sensitive information. The IPC catching any sliver of it could prove disastrous.

“You shouldn’t be by the windows,” Blade eventually says.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a major buzzkill?”

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t respond.

With some reluctance, you pry yourself away from the glass granting access to the outside world.

“... Just a bit longer?” You try plucking a sympathetic cord he distinctly lacks.

“If you like it so much, why not experience it in the safety of your room where your head is a less visible target?”

“It isn’t possible to perform a Synalink on yourself.”

“Have an underling do it.”

The presumptions air to this suggestion eliminates any grace you may have extended.

“The only other Arbiter capable of performing Synalinks on me was my mother,” you say. “Note the past tense.”

You experience a phantasmal ripple with him as the epicenter. It’s the weakest emotion you’ve inadvertently picked up from him, so you assume it’s nothing of consequence.

“Passing blurs aren’t worth risking your life over.”

You rise to your feet.

“How do you know that?” You challenge, heat rushing to your cheeks. “These homes, these buildings, these streets… they’re either data on my screen or conveyed to me through someone who acts like they’re listing parts in a machine. I have to see it. I have to commit each ‘passing blur’ to memory. Otherwise…”

What have I sacrificed my freedom for?

Blade’s eyebrows furrow.

“Otherwise…” you shake your head. “Forget it.”

During the ensuing silence, your phone buzzes.

You had set it on do not disturb for the upcoming meeting. A few contacts were granted an exception, meaning that this message must be urgent if it went through. You swallow the lump growing in your throat. An exhausted part of yourself reasons that it can wait until the meeting’s conclusion. It wouldn’t do you any good to get worked up beforehand, would it? The message will still be there when it’s finished. Then you’ll be able to commit all your bandwidth to its contents. This reasoning is a tempting mistress cooing at you to come join her in bed. The momentary relief will be as sweet as the aftertaste is bitter.

Responsibility triumphs in the end. After inputting the necessary passcodes, a message four words long scrawls across your screen.

The product is ready.

A simple code had been devised between you and the alchemist entrusted with testing Kafka’s synthetic tonic. The product isn’t ready yet would mean the sly woman bluffed, or at the very least, exaggerated her 70% comparison claim. You’d gladly take either. She’s sewn deceit before, she’d have no trouble doing it again. In case the alternative was true, you prepared another code; the code you just received.

You reread it once. Twice, then thrice. You check if the message came from the right number. It did. You check again.

This frantic fixation consumes you to such a degree, you don’t register the cabin jerking aside. The delay from your reflexes throws your equilibrium off. Squeezing your eyes shut, you brace yourself for an unceremonious rendezvous with the floor. Your right side does come into contact with a hard surface, except it’s sooner than you anticipated. Warmer, too.

This heat is different from what’s produced inside the Nectary’s gemstones. It’s personal, containing the distinct thrum of life. There’s also an aroma. Slightly floral, mostly spices you don’t recognize. Then there’s this steady sound — consistent enough to put a metronome to shame. A slow thump, thump, thump.

“How have you survived this long, clumsy as you are?”

Blade isn’t speaking any louder than he normally would, but you can hear him better.

“Hey, I’m… not… clumsy…?”

It’s only when you open your eyes that you’re able to piece together your current predicament.

Blade’s steadying you by your shoulders and your cheek is pressing against his chest. You always knew he was tall, but having him tower over you this close gives you a new perspective. As does the fact he doesn’t immediately shove you off after breaking your fall. Your body goes stiff enough to rival rigor mortis.

“Accident prone, then.”

This swipe has you desperate to reaffirm your authority. “You should’ve just… let me fall then! Maybe I wanted to, what do you know!”

(It sounded better in your head).

“Are you positive you’re over a century old?”

An equally snarky rebuttal blooms on your tongue, only to immediately wither, turning to ash that coats the ground.

There’s the sound of a dying star, a dirge announcing the end.

What one hears before their name is reduced to an epitaph or an alphabetized list neatly organizing the recently deceased. It’s loud, then it isn’t. Hideous, then hypnotizing. Yellows and oranges and reds swirling in a serpentine motion that mocks you for thinking you ever conquered it. Civilizations can temporarily subdue it, bend it to their will, but it’s not ever truly theirs. The sovereignty of flame is a dynasty everlasting. It may rise, it may fall, but it can’t ever be truly extinguished.

You’re sent flying back with enough power that the air is forced from your lungs. It’s as if an Aeon’s hand had pushed your body aside, dragging you to the edge of the universe. You’re released from the scorching maw and into an icy nothingness.

The planet itself is frozen for a time.

There’s no strength in your body. Your system has been injected with pure, raw adrenaline, causing your limbs to shake and ignore your commands. Your ears are ringing and your eyesight is blurry. Tears cleanse the pollutants from your eyes. A dark swath covers your body, its weight hindering your feeble attempts to move. Determination alone wills you to emerge from this shadowy cocoon.

The ringing fades and all is quiet, save for the crackling of fire.

Then the screaming begins.

You try identifying the source. You think you may have found it, then it starts elsewhere, a different pitch, a different soul lot in lament. Bloodcurdling shrieks rise alongside the thick smoke. You’re being a stretch of buildings that loom imposingly, obsidian spires reaching up to the night sky. The masonry required to maintain their reign basks in the flames. The unusual surplus of light unveils its secrets, from the cracks in the stone to the faded graffiti bored kids left behind.

The ground is uneven, unlike the glossy pavement found in the entertainment district. This dull, grayish-blue soil with the consistency of fine powder exhibits the true nature of Eris’ untreated exterior. It’s cool to the touch and takes pleasure at the chance to stain your fine clothes.

Your wandering mind is brought back upon hearing a sputter nearby. You’re not sure where you are, what you’re doing, or why you’re doing it; but you remember you weren’t alone.

“Blade…” The name comes out as a croak. “Where…?”

You can’t call out to him, it’s like cotton has been stuffed down your esophagus.

There’s movement in the corner of your eye.

You make the mistake of trying to stand. Your arms might’ve begun to heed your commands, but your legs do not. The worst insurrectionists are your ankles. The instant you try putting any weight on them, they collapse as if you were a newborn doe. Recognizing this strategy’s incompetence, you drag yourself over to where you saw movement instead. The coarse ground rubs at and scratches your skin.

Upon closer inspection, your heart stops.

The dark swath — that’s Blade.

He’s in a far worse state than you. His entire backside has been scorched, displaying angry red blisters and split skin just barely hanging on. His right arm is bent in an awkward position, most certainly broken. Then there’s his left arm, or lack of it. Clumps of limp sinew hang where his arm should be joined to his shoulder joint. The force of the impact must’ve blown it off or eviscerated it entirely.

He’s lying on his side, facing away from you. A pool of blood forms beneath him, mixing with the soil. The coupling results in a sickly mauve that creeps and seeps inch by inch.

The fire… it’s coming from the guides, you realize. The cabin has been torn to pieces!

This begs the question: how are you alive?

You should be covered in burns at the very least. Some of your clothes got charred, you think a rib or two might be broken, but you’re living and breathing. There’s a gap in your memory where the previous events should be. You try recalling whatever you can, no matter how seemingly insignificant. You were moved aside as the roaring got louder, and then there was the sound of glass shattering, heat to cold…

Blade must have intervened. Did he use the few seconds before the fire caught up to break the window and toss you out? That can’t be right; you’d have glass entrenched in your skin and burns on whichever side faced the explosion. Surely, with his inhuman reflexes, he could’ve come out relatively unscathed.

Unless he chose to shield you.

You don’t think, you just act. First, by tearing the hem of your long skirt, then second, pressing it against the gaping wound where his shoulder abruptly ends. Gushes of crimson spill through your first makeshift bandage. You throw it aside, rip at your garments again, repeating the process in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. A Stellaron Hunter must have a robust constitution, right? He was able to act faster than you could think. He can survive this — you just need to stop the bleeding until you can get help. Kafka has to have connections with advanced medical factions.

Tears stream down your face and you sniffle relentlessly. Your hands are caked in soot and blood, the scent of burnt skin and metal clings to your nostrils. Is he going to die? Is he already dead? You can’t bring yourself to check his pulse. How could he be willing to die for you in the short period of time you’ve known one another? He could’ve concocted any excuse for why he failed Kafka’s assignment, you’re certain he’s more indispensable to their cause than you are.

Blade stirs.

You think that it’s your imagination playing tricks on you. A cruel joke to remind you that you make your living off shaping reality for others, temporarily giving them what they want at the price of never truly having it.

Or so is your conviction until he moves again.

You’ve heard of muscles twitching after death to give the false impression of life. However, you’ve never witnessed the phenomenon yourself. Is this how it works? It isn’t sporadic, his right arm is sweeping over the ground, fingers flexing. Much to your astonishment, he pushes himself up with the arm that was contorted into a horrible shape a minute ago. The pain he’s experiencing must be excruciating and yet he merely grunts as he shifts into a sitting position.

“Stop moving,” you rasp out. With your most recent bandage in hand, you go to apply pressure to the left arm socket.

He responds to your fervent desperation in a low, gravelly voice.

“Don’t bother.”

Don’t bother? Is he in a coherent state of mind? If you don’t attend to his gushing wound, he’s at risk of bleeding out. You prepare to ignore his utterance when a strange sight freezes you in place.

A white structure emerges from his raw, mangled arm socket, descending like water pouring from a pitcher. It solidifies and takes the shape of a humerus. Once finished, it goes on to create the radius and ulna. Next are the carpals, metacarpals, then phalanges. Tendons join them together, fibrous muscles envelop the bones. Finally, in the blink of an eye, fresh layers of skin build atop one another in sheets. He clenches and unclenches his newly formed hand.

If defying death is a sin, he is laden in iniquity.

“What hurts?” Blade asks.

You’re too aghast to respond. His body just stitched itself back together without any medical treatment or esoteric healing techniques. Is it possible you’re hallucinating? Can a visual hallucination be this vivid?

He reaches out. Seconds prior to his hand coming into contact with your bare skin, you furiously shake your head, flailing backward and narrowingly avoiding him. His eyes bore down on you like molten magma. He retracts his hand after a drawn-out pause.

“If you can’t speak, point instead.”

Dazedly, you follow his instructions, focusing primarily on your ankles. They’ve swollen since you last checked. The flesh is tender and puffy.

“I’ll carry you,” he says. “Stay still.”

“Wait,” you manage to wheeze out. “This area… residential… have to help…!”

A coughing spell cuts your hoarse plea short.

“That explosion was meant for you. Whoever set it off will want to ensure their job’s success.”

Blade reaches out for you again. You duck to avoid his grasp, despite the pain throbbing in your chest cavity from the hasty movement. The adrenaline must be fading if your brain is doing inventory on the damage you’ve sustained, rather than focusing on survival. Hot waves test your resolution. You grit your teeth. If you make a show of your pain, he’s not going to change his decision.

He speaks your name in a low, warning tone.

Adamant in your refusal, you point to where the cries for help are the loudest.

“It’s not my priority,” he says.

He easily grabs you on his third try and you yelp. The sluggishness of his previous attempts must've been out of consideration for you. His right arm interlocks behind your knees while the left supports your back. You thrash to no avail, his grip remains ironclad. Your struggles amount to nothing but perspiration clinging to your skin and more aches.

The nearest medical unit to this street is at least thirty minutes away, now that the guides are out of order, you think. That isn’t fast enough…! Every second counts!

In your panic, a sacred vow made decades ago is desecrated.

You cup Blade’s face in your shaky hands and stare him straight in the eye.

The previously formed shards come into focus.

It’s monumental, this psyche you’ve barged into without permission. A violation of another’s autonomy. You know this, you condemn yourself for it, yet you press on nevertheless. The previously unknowable architecture that hulks over you is of Xianzhou design. It’s pieced together by bricks as infinite as the stars in the universe, though there is no magnificent shine, only matte stonework.

This structure… is it a garrison? You wonder. Was Blade a member of the… what’s the name of their military again… Cloud Knights?

You’ve had Cloud Knight clients before. Their psyches take the likeness of their favorite, scenic expanse on the Hexafleet, the area that they cared for enough to risk their life. The skies would be blue, clouds fluffy and prolific. A sense of duty and patriotism felt palpable. Occasionally, you’d be made privy to grief’s scent carried on a breeze, perhaps from a loved one’s passing or comrade’s untimely death in battle.

This is a riddle you need to solve swiftly. With a little tampering, you can form a link. It’s immoral, a blight to your personal code, but you’ll leverage enough influence for Blade to stay and help any survivors until help arrives. Whatever consequences arise can be dealt with later.

Even with the heightened mental sensitivity from making direct physical contact, this is proving a challenge. You can see his psyche but you can’t interact with it. It’s like running your hands through vapor. For you to successfully exert enough influence to change a decision he’s dead set on, you’ll need to go deeper. Inside this fortress sits the recesses of his mind, the bottom of an ocean you’re merely skimming the surface of. The intrusion’s necessity twists your gut as if your intenses were being kneaded.

Your incorporeal form flutters to the gates, standing solitary against a leaden backdrop.

The closer you get, you become increasingly aware of a malicious entity permeating behind the doors which strain to contain it. This is the same harrowing presence you felt when he protected you from Alister. Now that you’ve spent more time with Blade, you can discern its essence is different from his, although they’re forcibly intertwined like a rope. Blade emanates this unremittingly morose energy. It’s bleak, unconcentrated.

This substance oozes a need to satiate bottomless bloodlust. It wants to sink its teeth into flesh, lacerate muscles, and slice through bone. Mayhem and viscera are its highest raison d'être. There’s no sensibility, no reasoning with it, it acts in one way then shifts on a whim; chaos inside a splintering bottle.

How is Blade capable of functioning with this slumbering beast ready to wreak havoc at any second?

Steeling your resolve, you prepare to enter.

A seal halts your progress.

Impatience urges you to dispel it. Blade’s psyche is rejecting you, any further delays will give it ample opportunity to flush you out.

The kaleidoscopic seal thrums and wards off your efforts.

Someone put this here, you discern. It’s deliberate.

What perplexes you is that the seal prohibits entry yet does nothing to contain the miasma writhing behind it. Wouldn’t whoever created it intend to keep that salivating beast at bay? It’s well-crafted too, denying your every attempt to eliminate it. Kafka dabbles in mind-altering. Could she have left this here? You know what her aura feels like — calm, confident, cunning — this seal radiates none of her trademarks.

An invisible force hauls you back.

You took too long — Blade’s psyche is expelling the foreign invader.

You blink and you’re back in reality.

Blade is grimacing, the lines on his face highlighted by flickering flame. There’s a pallor to his complexion brought on by the aggressive expulsion his mind pulled off. An act such as that leeches off of one’s vitality. He takes a moment to recompose himself, as do you. Any subsequent attempts to form a link are going to be wrung from a desiccated source. You don’t know how many attempts you have left in you,

“A first offense, I could pardon,” Blade pants out, blood-red hues shining, “A recidivist like yourself, though… can’t go undisciplined.”

Your eyes widen. How did he know your intentions so quickly? You hadn’t so much as moved yet!

There’s a dull discomfort blooming from your nape.

Your eyelids feel heavy and your breathing slows. Black spots float around in your vision. They start small, appearing as if they were polka dots, then grow to be the size of black holes. Your muscles won’t move. The unconscious realm beckons. Its gravitational pull is irresistible, a tide you can’t swim against.

What is this? Your neck… did he strike a nerve…?

“You’ll be fine,” a distant, sonorous voice promises. “Just sleep.”

The sentence has been delivered.

You’re made prisoner to a dreamless slumber.

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