#using speech recognition

[lucidseduction]

THE CLOUD IS JUST SOMEONE ELSE'S COMPUTER

me: saving a file locally any program: hii 😏save it on the cloud... 😫🫠hey did you know we have a cloud service??😳🤤 hey🥺. you want to save locally 😫😭but pleassse upload. 🫠😫😫omg our service now includes😈 online sevicr😏👄. upload it to 🤤clowud👄..we have a 👀 cloud🤤🥺🥺. give it to me Rachel😳😫hey! 😘 look!!👀👀 online servbive .save it on 💦 our 💦 server💦🥺🥺 😈. oww m g 👉🏻👈🏻pleasss😳🥴 uploard your fileee on our cloud service😭😩. it's so good!!😵‍💫 give it to mmmeee 😫🥺 do it.👄 noo 😮not locally🥴😭😭. use our 😘online servjceeee👉🏻👈🏻😩

[eggy-tea]

I’m so glad AI is here to save us.

(On the second attempt, it instead opened LibraryThing. Easy mistake to make; even to native English speakers it can be hard to distinguish between the sounds of “audible,” “library thing,” and “heart.”)

[reasonsforhope]

A mountain in New Zealand considered an ancestor by Indigenous people was recognized as a legal person on Thursday [January 30, 2025] after a new law granted it all the rights and responsibilities of a human being.

Mount Taranaki — now known as Taranaki Maunga, its Māori name — is the latest natural feature to be granted personhood in New Zealand, which has ruled that a river and a stretch of sacred land are people before. The pristine, snow-capped dormant volcano is the second highest on New Zealand's North Island at 2,518 meters (8,261 feet) and a popular spot for tourism, hiking and snow sports.

The legal recognition acknowledges the mountain's theft from the Māori of the Taranaki region after New Zealand was colonized. It fulfills an agreement of redress from the country's government to Indigenous people for harms perpetrated against the land since.

How can a mountain be a person?

The law passed Thursday gives Taranaki Maunga all the rights, powers, duties, responsibilities and liabilities of a person. Its legal personality has a name: Te Kāhui Tupua, which the law views as "a living and indivisible whole." It includes Taranaki and its surrounding peaks and land, "incorporating all their physical and metaphysical elements."

A newly created entity will be "the face and voice" of the mountain, the law says, with four members from local Māori iwi, or tribes, and four members appointed by the country's Conservation Minister.

Why is this mountain special?

"The mountain has long been an honored ancestor, a source of physical, cultural and spiritual sustenance and a final resting place," Paul Goldsmith, the lawmaker responsible for the settlements between the government and Māori tribes, told Parliament in a speech on Thursday.

But colonizers of New Zealand in the 18th and 19th centuries took first the name of Taranaki and then the mountain itself. In 1770, the British explorer Captain James Cook spotted the peak from his ship and named it Mount Egmont.

In 1840, Māori tribes and representatives of the British crown signed the Treaty of Waitangi — New Zealand's founding document — in which the Crown promised Māori would retain rights to their land and resources. But the Māori and English versions of the treaty differed — and Crown breaches of both began immediately.

In 1865, a vast swathe of Taranaki land, including the mountain, was confiscated to punish Māori for rebeling against the Crown. Over the next century hunting and sports groups had a say in the mountain's management — but Māori did not.

"Traditional Māori practices associated with the mountain were banned while tourism was promoted," Goldsmith said. But a Māori protest movement of the 1970s and '80s has led to a surge of recognition for the Māori language, culture and rights in New Zealand law.

Redress has included billions of dollars in Treaty of Waitangi settlements — such as the agreement with the eight tribes of Taranaki, signed in 2023.

How will the mountain use its rights?

"Today, Taranaki, our maunga, our maunga tupuna, is released from the shackles, the shackles of injustice, of ignorance, of hate," said Debbie Ngarewa-Packer, a co-leader of the political party Te Pāti Māori and a descendant of the Taranaki tribes, using a phrase that means ancestral mountain.

"We grew up knowing there was nothing anyone could do to make us any less connected," she added.

The mountain's legal rights are intended to uphold its health and wellbeing. They will be employed to stop forced sales, restore its traditional uses and allow conservation work to protect the native wildlife that flourishes there. Public access will remain.

Do other parts of New Zealand have personhood?

New Zealand was the first country in the world to recognize natural features as people when a law passed in 2014 granted personhood to Te Urewera, a vast native forest on the North Island. Government ownership ceased and the tribe Tūhoe became its guardian.

"Te Urewera is ancient and enduring, a fortress of nature, alive with history; its scenery is abundant with mystery, adventure, and remote beauty," the law begins, before describing its spiritual significance to Māori. In 2017, New Zealand recognized the Whanganui River as human, as part of a settlement with its local iwi.

How much support did the law receive?

The bill recognizing the mountain's personhood was affirmed unanimously by Parliament's 123 lawmakers. The vote was greeted by a ringing waiata — a Māori song — from the public gallery, packed with dozens who had traveled to the capital, Wellington, from Taranaki.

The unity provided brief respite in a tense period for race relations in New Zealand. In November, tens of thousands of people marched to Parliament to protest a law that would reshape the Treaty of Waitangi by setting rigid legal definitions for each clause. Detractors say the law — which is not expected to pass — would strip Māori of legal rights and dramatically reverse progress from the past five decades.

-via NPR, January 31, 2025

--

Note: The article doesn't get fully into the implications of the broader, global "rights of nature" movement (of which this is part), which is powerful tool for not only recognizing Indigenous ways of relating to the world, but also preventing ecological damage.

Examples of rights of nature include rivers having the right to not be polluted, etc. Powerful tool for leveraging the courts and legal frameworks against environmental destruction.

[astrolook]

✦🌒The Moon in You: Where You Crave, Connect, and Collapse🫀🕳️

Note: These are all my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years. Take what resonates with you more and leave the rest. Lemme know in the comments if it hits home!

The Moon is where your body holds emotions, where your cravings reside, where safety and surrender blend into one. It rules instincts, erotic memory, the way you want to be held, touched, or simply understood. Locate where your Moon is in your Vedic chart!

Moon in 1st - needing skin-to-skin contact, impulsive sex, quickies for emotional reassurance, morning-after cuddles, exhibitionism in private settings, mirror sex (seeing yourself being loved), soft dom/sub with praise, being touched often, celebratory sex after emotional wins, birthday sex, body worship, needing emotional foreplay, deep kissing as regulation, sex that starts from eye contact, needy subspace, mood-driven sex, “make it about me” kink, being fucked with affection, crying from being seen, passion that shifts fast, chasing validation through touch, collapsing when ignored, needing to be reassured during sex, orgasm as emotional release, making love in shared spaces, craving emotional recognition during pleasure, emotional mirroring in bed, touching your own body while they watch, homebody kink, touch as grounding, sex tied to mood, clinging during climax, over-identifying with desire, disappearing when needs aren’t met.

Moon in 2nd - slow, intentional sex, deep kissing with weight behind it, giving oral as devotion, slow undressing, sensual bondage, earning trust before play, possession kink, needing consistency to feel aroused, sex in safe familiar spaces, “prove it” kink, craving reliability in lovers, staying in bed after, long foreplay, ritualistic touch, praise for patience, orgasm as reward, needing to be held after, emotional security kink, money kink (emotional currency), massage before penetration, feeling used when not seen, silent resentment during sex, investing in someone who won’t stay, hating casual touch, craving loyalty more than lust, earthy submission, kissing every inch slowly, being told they’re safe now, crying when sex feels one-sided, physical affection as proof of love, grinding slowly in rhythm, emotional shutdown when ignored, giving too much without return, needing to be wanted consistently, collapsing when love doesn’t grow.

Moon in 3rd - talking during sex, overstimulation kink, whispering dirty confessions, mental domination, love as obsession, brainy foreplay, being told exactly what to do, fear of saying the wrong thing during intimacy, orgasm with eye contact and words, needing verbal reassurance, feeling rejected when misunderstood, craving lovers who “get” your mind, humiliation kink, sex after arguments, spiraling after hookups, edging with intense internal pressure, guilt during arousal, emotional overexposure, anxious touch, need to narrate feelings during sex, craving mental control, fear of vulnerability through speech, overstimulation leading to shut down, submitting through logic, writing fantasies no one sees, begging for clarity, sex to quiet the mind, fear of being boring, emotional masochism, wanting to be unraveled mentally, crying from being misunderstood, needing to explain desires, shame kink, losing words mid-climax, craving someone who speaks your emotional language, touch that calms the panic.

Moon in 4th - spooning sex, slow touch under blankets, soft dom/sub with emotional care, sex at home only, needing emotional intimacy before arousal, breast/nipple worship, craving to be held more than fucked, hand-holding during climax, melancholic masturbation, emotional withdrawal during sex, kissing that feels like remembering, sex to feel close after distance, aftercare as foreplay, making love to sad music, crying silently during intimacy, being touched when you’re numb, emotional avoidance kink, needing reassurance mid-sex, longing for past lovers, hating casual sex but doing it anyway, silent longing, delayed arousal, playing hard to reach, giving affection quietly, memory-triggered arousal, clingy subspace, emotional shutdown mid-act, slow oral with eye contact, sex as emotional grounding, mood-dependent desire, nostalgic kink, fear of being too much, being held until you soften, pleasure that feels like safety, sadness when they pull away after sex.

Moon in 5th - performative sex, praise kink, being watched while touching yourself, riding for eye contact, fighting then fucking, bratty submission, needing applause in bed, striptease as emotional offering, orgasm as validation, hair pulling with affection, jealousy-driven sex, dramatic dirty talk, sex as show, needing to be chosen loudly, thigh grabbing, competitive teasing, passionate roleplay, sex as self-expression, giving head like a power move, being taken hard then held tight, push-pull dynamics, show-off kink, quick sex in risky places, craving to be admired naked, flirting as survival, fear of being boring in bed, collapsing when ignored, emotional highs and lows, climax as catharsis, rage sex, making love like it’s the last time, needing reassurance after dominance, deeply attached to who gives you pleasure, using sex to forget self-doubt, wanting to be someone’s favorite/ best.

Moon in 6th - needing to be needed, sex as care, slow touches, proving love through effort, devotion kink, tired but still giving, healing through hands, folding laundry as foreplay, feeding each other, craving consistency, emotional fatigue, love through labor, collapsing into touch, being good enough, invisible service, resentment kink, needing permission to rest, quiet submission, emotional routine, wanting to be useful, staying for duty, guilt-driven sex, loving through chores, overwhelmed but loyal, held in the kitchen, soft control, burnout lust, safe hands, waiting to be noticed, love as responsibility, craving structure, emotional routines as intimacy, building love brick by brick, care that aches.

Moon in 7th - needing to be met, quiet sex, stillness between bodies, emotional mirroring, craving closeness without noise, being held without fixing, collapsing into someone, sleeping skin to skin, sex as peace offering, unspoken need, love that doesn’t rush, fear of being misunderstood, freezing during intimacy, needing someone to stay, soft domination, being seen in silence, delayed touch, touch with meaning, avoiding conflict, love that feels like rest, sexual pause, absence kink, calm after crying, fear of being too much, emotional distance, shutdown moments, needing presence not passion, ache behind the eyes, sharing space without pressure, fear of not being chosen, wanting to be wanted gently, mirror sex, touch that asks nothing, tenderness under tension.

Moon in 8th - craving to be undone, obsessive desire, emotional possession, losing yourself in someone, sex as surrender, trauma bonding, needing to be consumed, grief kink, pain turned erotic, fantasy addiction, emotional shapeshifting, love that haunts, fear of abandonment, jealous lust, hidden affairs, craving what’s forbidden, deep eye contact, psychic sex, wanting to be broken open, emotional overwhelm, touch as power, guilt after pleasure, erotic control, sexual secrecy, drowning in options, yearning for one true bond, confusing love with escape, haunting memories, sex that feels like drowning, intense fantasies, trust as kink, emotional chaos, pleasure with consequences, devotion that hurts, wanting to be changed.

Moon in 9th - sex in unfamiliar places, long-distance obsession, love letters before sex, edging for hours, overstimulation, emotional masochism, tantric sex, deep-throating as offering, craving mind-opening sex, praise during penetration, needing to be worshipped, teacher-student kink, being talked through climax, wanting to feel "changed" by sex, holding eye contact while finishing, performance pressure, missionary with meaning, sex that feels like a quest, craving someone “wiser,” overstretched libido, emotional pain during orgasm, collapse after giving too much, begging to be understood, guilt after sex, carrying emotional weight during kink, crying mid-thrust, taking too much to prove love, rough sex with meaning, overstaying in hookups, submission as learning, needing to be “taught a lesson,” loving from afar, losing yourself to their philosophy, deep convos then deep sex, craving sacred kink, feeling broken after casual sex.

Moon in 10th - needing control, sex with rules, withholding touch, wanting to be wanted but hiding it, slow sex with full clothes on, fear of being messy, approval kink, being told “you’re enough,” sex as pressure release, mommy/daddy kink, boss/employee kink, teacher/student kink, needing structure to feel safe, silent dominance, staying composed during orgasm, slow undressing as foreplay, locked jaw during oral, craving recognition more than pleasure, holding back tears during sex, praise kink, sex to prove you're capable, public/private contrast, needing to be useful in bed, being taken care of but resisting it, routine sex as stability, fear of being exposed, letting someone see you lose control, being bossy but fragile, begging quietly, trying to be perfect, sex that feels like a job, staying in roles too long, reward-based intimacy, emotional detachment during climax, sex with one safe person only, touch as proof, clinging without showing it, breakdown behind the scenes.

Moon in 11th - sex with friends, watching others, voyeurism, secret affairs, emotional distance kink, quiet jealousy, friends with benefits, craving group acceptance, poly fantasies, exhibitionism with detachment, ghosting guilt, fucking with eye contact then disappearing, wanting to be the exception, soft manipulation, flirtation as currency, emotional withdrawal during climax, casual sex with deep hopes, dirty talk over text, group sex with one true focus, hiding arousal, lying about feelings, needing to feel chosen, anonymous hookup kink, trust issues in intimacy, being fucked while pretending not to care, avoiding attachment, guilt after pleasure, intimacy as rebellion, intellectual seduction, emotional betrayal kink, fear of being used, craving to be “in,” slow reveal fantasies, friendship-to-sex pipeline, rejection sensitivity, playing it cool while needing connection, sex to feel relevant, needing safe distance.

Moon in 12th - soft surrender, spiritual kink, sex in the dark, crying after orgasm, erotic aftercare, silent sex, losing yourself in them, needing emotional safety before touch, bath sex, craving to be saved, dreamy eye contact, being held more than fucked, merging kink, sex that feels like floating, loving unavailable people, healing sex, body worship, falling in love too fast, needy subspace, sex as escape, needing to feel chosen on a soul level, kissing until it hurts, devotion kink, self-sacrifice during sex, mistress, side chick/side guy, stealing other's partner, experienced/ inexperienced kink, erotic dissociation, deep cuddling after, emotional absorption, sex that feels like goodbye, writing poems about them after, shame around pleasure, craving emotional absolution, edging with music, wanting to disappear into moans, priest/priestess kink, being taken gently but completely, lost time during sex, being fucked like a prayer, orgasm as release from loneliness.

🌙💬 For readings, check out my pinned post for pricing and more info 💫💸

[strangeite]

[ID: First image is a headline that says, "Survey Says: 'Baltimorese' is among the hardest accents in the nation for AI to understand"

Second image is a screenshot of tags by runawaymarbles that say, "#what's this?? it's Aaron with an iron urn!!" /end ID]

Baltimore is a beacon of hope in the war against The Machines

[yeahivegotanaccount]

I need to stop using "sucking off" as an phrase meaning "excessive praise, regardless of whether I deem it appropriate, good or bad", it's insulting to the appreciation + could be easily interpreted as calling someone a suck-up + being vulgar all the time isn't a good thing.

[echoekhi]

I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight

What Are “What If” Videos?

These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.

Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.

They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.

In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.

In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.

Project Copy-Knight

Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.

And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.

It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.

I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:

On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.

The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.

Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.

I Need Your Help

I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.

So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.

------

See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/

[what-even-is-thiss]

If you don’t wanna study grammar in a language you’re studying, then don’t study grammar. If you listen to and/or read the language a lot then your brain will naturally and gradually do its pattern recognition thing the same way it did when you were a baby.

When I was consciously self studying Spanish with apps and textbooks and stuff the whole verb conjugation thing stressed me out but after I switched to mostly just listening I stopped worrying about that. Even though I only produce short sentences at this point without thinking if I hear a word used in the correct context often enough then my brain just uses the correct form.

In my opinion unless you want or need to brute force speaking in long sentences from literally day one then you can put off studying grammar until you’re advanced enough in the language to study grammar in that language. Or you can just read a general overview before you get started so you know roughly what you’re looking at.

Besides, some of the grammar stuff taught in textbooks isn’t strictly necessary or even correct in everyday speech anyways.

Kids mostly learn grammar in school so they can know more about their language and so they can write formally. They already know how to use grammar. When babies start saying their first two or three word sentences they say things in the correct order already. Even baby mistakes like saying foots instead of feet usually show a very good knowledge of how the grammar usually works.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

I’m switching it up here!

Would I be able to pretty please ask for Simon with wife! Reader and baby meeting the 141 for the first time???

His Little Shadow

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical injury mention, emotional hurt/comfort, softness, family fluff, mentions of trauma and recovery

Author's Note: I love this so much, I hope you enjoy this cute little story-

Summary: No one expected Ghost to have a family. Especially not one that looked just like him.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Simon Riley was many things. But no one expected him to be a father.

The ballroom buzzed with quiet tension—stiff uniforms, gleaming medals, officers with unreadable expressions and heels clicked sharp against marble. A rare ceremony. A rare kind of recognition.

Simon “Ghost” Riley was being honored with the highest distinction their division could offer—akin to a Purple Heart. Not just for surviving an ambush, but for shielding an entire unit when the firefight turned into a trap.

He’d taken a bullet through the shoulder—clean through the muscle—and had shrapnel embedded in his thigh from the IED blast that followed. He’d been barely conscious by the time evac arrived, soaked in his own blood. The only thing that had kept him awake was the thought of never seeing his son again.

Today, though… he wasn’t alone.

None of the team expected what came next.

“Lieutenant Riley has requested his family be in attendance,” the announcer said. “Please welcome his wife and son.”

Soap, champagne halfway to his mouth, nearly choked. “His what now?”

Price’s eyebrows rose. “...Well, that’s new.”

Gaz slowly turned his head. “You're telling me Ghost has a family?”

The doors creaked open.

And in stepped you—a vision in soft blue, with kind eyes and a smile that warmed the room instantly. On your hip, a tiny boy clung to your shoulder, dressed in a miniature toddler suit. Curly blonde hair. Wide, shy brown eyes. Dimples. Freckles.

And in one chubby hand? A little stuffed ghost.

He squirmed in your arms the second he spotted Simon.

“Daddy!!”

Before anyone could react, he launched from your grasp with surprising speed. His little dress shoes tapped wildly across the floor as he sprinted toward his father.

Simon’s injured arm was braced in a sling, his leg stiff with a hidden brace, but he moved—kneeling just in time to scoop Tommy up in his good arm, holding him close like he was air.

“Hey, there’s my little lad,” Simon murmured into his son’s curls. His voice broke, just a little. “Missed you so much, Tommy.”

Tommy clung to him like he’d never let go again.

The room had gone dead quiet—a few camera flashes popped, but no one dared speak.

Soap’s jaw was on the floor. “He looks exactly like him.”

Gaz’s voice was a whisper. “Why is he so small? Why is he holding a Ghost plushie?”

Tommy peeked up from Simon’s shoulder, narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar faces. A perfect mirror of his father.

“...Who’re they.”

His voice was barely a whisper.

You caught up, still smiling brightly despite the attention. “Friends, love.”

Price stared, flabbergasted. “You’re married.”

“For years,” Simon muttered, rubbing his son’s back. “Didn’t think it was important.”

“Didn’t think it was important?!” Soap looked personally betrayed. “You’ve got a wife and a baby Ghost—you’ve been holding out on us, mate!”

Tommy, utterly unimpressed, tucked his face back into Simon’s neck, clutching tighter.

And Simon? He just held him tighter, grinning behind the mask. “Doesn’t matter who knows now. Just glad they’re here.”

You rested a hand gently on Simon’s shoulder, smiling up at him with stars in your eyes. “He’s the strong one. Tommy and I just keep him grounded.”

Tommy peeked out again, holding the Ghost plushie up toward Soap in a silent offering.

Just for a second. A test.

Soap’s entire soul melted.

“Oh my god,” he whispered. “I’m gonna cry.”

——

Later That Evening

Once the photos were taken, the speeches given, and the handshakes done, the team pulled Ghost aside—into a quieter lounge at the back of the venue.

Tommy was asleep on your chest now, soft and squishy in his tiny suit, still clutching the ghost plushie. Simon sat beside you, exhausted but settled—his bandaged shoulder stiff, his leg stretched out.

Soap paced like he didn’t know where to begin.

“You nearly died, and didn’t think to tell us there was a baby Ghost back home?!”

Simon arched a brow. “Didn’t see the point.”

Gaz gawked. “A baby Ghost! With your face!”

You laughed quietly, adjusting Tommy’s weight on your lap. “He does the stare too. Exactly like his dad.”

“He judged me,” Gaz said, dead serious. “He judged me in his sleep.”

Simon chuckled, leaning back against the sofa with his good arm over your shoulders.

Price looked at him with something like admiration. “You did good, Simon. You protected your men, and you built something for yourself. That’s rare.”

Simon glanced down at his son, then at you.

“I’d go through it all again,” he said quietly. “Just to get back to them.”

And he meant it.

You smiled and kissed his cheek, and the team politely pretended not to notice the rare display of affection from their masked lieutenant.

——

That Night

The hotel room was quiet.

Not the stiff, formal silence of the ballroom—but the heavy, comforting kind that only came after a long day. The weight of everything peeled away the moment Simon locked the door behind him. The suit jacket came off first, dropped onto the armchair. The medal still pinned to his chest glinted in the low light.

You were already barefoot, sitting on the edge of the bed with sleepy little Tommy leaning into your chest, ghost plushie tucked under one arm, thumb near his mouth.

His curls were mussed from being passed between strangers and teammates who all took turns marveling at Ghost’s mini-me. He’d tolerated them quietly. Watched them with that wide-eyed intensity he inherited from his father. Now he was worn out.

Simon crossed the room, slower than usual with the brace on his leg, the sling tugging his shoulder. But his eyes never left Tommy’s face. His breathing eased the closer he got.

He sat beside you with a quiet grunt, toeing off his shoes.

Tommy reached for him instantly.

“C’mere, little lad.”

The boy didn’t speak—just crawled into Simon’s lap, curled up tight, and pressed his face into his father’s chest with a contented sigh.

Simon leaned back against the headboard, good arm around Tommy, the plushie smushed between them. You curled in on his other side, laying your head on his shoulder, your hand gently tracing circles on his chest.

No one spoke.

There was no need to.

Eventually, Simon broke the silence, voice low and raw. “Thought I’d never see this again.”

“You’re here,” you whispered.

“I kept picturing it. When things got bad.” His thumb stroked Tommy’s back. “Not the ceremony. Not the medal. Just this. You. Him. A quiet room.”

You smiled softly. “Then let this be the first of many.”

Simon nodded. “I don’t want to keep it quiet anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” you said gently. “You never did.”

He looked down at Tommy, who had dozed off again, face relaxed and safe.

“I missed so much,” Simon said quietly.

You kissed his shoulder. “You’re here now. He knows you love him.”

Simon rested his cheek on the top of your head, breathing deep. “He’s the bravest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

“He gets it from his dad.”

“Nah,” Simon said, with a tired little smile. “Gets it from his mum.”

You laughed under your breath.

And in that room—just the three of you, wrapped in each other—Simon Riley finally let himself breathe.

Let himself believe.

Because his little shadow had waited for him.

And he’d made it home.

——

The Next Morning

The hotel breakfast lounge was warm with clinks of silverware and quiet voices. The team had gathered at a long table by the windows, plates half-full, coffee steaming in hand.

Then the doors opened.

Simon walked in, dressed down in joggers and a hoodie—sling still snug across his shoulder, brace hidden beneath loose fabric. And trailing behind him like a duckling?

Tommy.

Tiny pajama pants with cartoon ghosts. One sock inside out. A determined little frown. Juice box clutched in both hands.

He mimicked every step his father took. When Simon slowed, Tommy slowed. When Simon stopped to scan the room, Tommy froze beside him. A flawless copy.

The team collectively melted.

Soap whimpered. “He’s still following him.”

Gaz looked close to tears. “I swear he’s even got the pace down.”

Tommy spotted the table and leaned forward slightly like he was ready to sprint—but Simon held out a hand. “Walk, lad.”

Tommy adjusted instantly, tiny legs pumping just a bit slower.

The second they reached the table, Tommy pointed up at the seat beside Simon. “Up.”

Simon picked him up without a word, easing him into the chair and sliding over a plate of toast he’d grabbed from the buffet. Tommy nodded once, solemn, and took a bite like it was his mission for the day.

The Ghost plushie sat beside him, propped up like a teammate.

You arrived moments later, hair damp, carrying your own plate and smiling like you’d won the universe.

“Sorry—we had a toothbrush standoff. He won.”

Simon nodded. “Saluted me with it.”

Soap practically keeled over. “Stop. STOP. I can’t—he saluted?”

Price just smiled into his tea. “Loyal, that one.”

Tommy reached out mid-bite and rested one sticky hand on Simon’s wrist. No words. Just… connection.

And Simon? He let it happen like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Because it was.

Because his little shadow was exactly where he belonged.

——

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[eglerieth]

Some of y’all are not appreciating Bilbo Baggins enough. I am here to remedy that. This guy has:

• somehow managed to establish himself as a respectable, staid hobbit by the time he was fifty, despite being both a grandson of Bullroarer Took and the Shire champion of pretty much every aiming-game known to hobbitkind

• had an in-depth debate on pleasantries with a random guy passing by in the street, who turned out to be GANDALF

• collapsed in front of his own fire shaking and muttering “struck by lightning” over and over again in response to hearing about dragons and danger

• mind you, this was after he screamed loud enough to startle a roomful of Dwarves

• signed up for a dangerous quest completely outside of his league out of spite

• when told to scout out a mysterious light, saw some trolls, and instead of reporting back with the information, decided to PICK THE TROLLS POCKET

• arrived in Rivendell for the first time and said it “smelled like elves”

• upon meeting a strange creature that visibly wanted to eat him, he decided to play a riddle game with him- and guessed pretty much every one, and made up his own riddles, afraid and alone, that not only were good and full of linguistic puns, but actually stumped the other guy- AND THEN CHEATED AND WON WITH A QUESTION

• showed mercy to said strange creature who wanted to kill him, and was now standing between him and freedom

• eavesdropped on the dwarves arguing over whether to try to save him, then popped up casually smack in the middle of them just as they were debating

• somehow managed to sleep like a log at the really really high eyrie full of wild predators

• found himself in a bad situation, said eff it, and turned around and antagonized and fought off an insane amount of man eating spiders, like enough of them that fifty was a small portion, by singing at them with incredibly complex and punny insulting songs composed on the spot, while simultaneously slaying them in multitudes despite having zero combat training. Seriously, we don’t discuss enough how epic the spider scene is.

• broke a company of dwarves out of the very secure prison of the Elvenking by inventing white water rafting with barrels

• charmed his way out of being eaten by a dragon

• stole the frickin Arkenstone from the guys who employed him, one of whom was a king

• took part in an epic battle, only to be knocked out in the first ten minutes and miss the entire thing

• was named elf-friend by the guy who’s prisoners he sprung

• wrote his own autobiography, complete with all the narrative recognition of his own heroics

• spent 60 years writing said autobiography

• taught his lower class neighbor’s kid how to read

• taught his nephew Elvish- not only Sindarin, but Quenya too

• spent decades telling his cousins his own story as fairy tales, complete with character impressions accurate enough that one of them was able to fool a servant of the Enemy with a second hand impression

• used the One Ring of Power to hide from his neighbors

• planned an elaborate feast with multiple social faux pas to mess with his neighbors, complete with a purposefully bewildering speech and culminating in him vanishing into thin air in front of everyone

• left his cousins and neighbors very unsubtle passive aggressive gifts in his will

• settled into Rivendell, randomly befriended the heir to the throne of like half of Middle Earth, and apparently spent his time writing very personal poems about his hosts and reciting them to crowds of elves

• after being invited to a Council of basically every major kingdom in the continent, spent a quarter of the time reciting vague poems about his friends, a quarter of the time telling anyone who would listen about his heroic past, and half the time interrupting to ask when lunch would be

• volunteered to bring the ring to Mordor

• became one of only four or five mortals in history to live in Valinor

Seriously, Bilbo Baggins may well be the most chaotic, insane person in the entire legendarium, and that includes the likes of people like Finrod “bit a werewolf to death to save the life of guy who he just met and gave up his kingdom for” Felagund.

[dan-ish]

Can we really call Cale oblivious?

When I was reading tcf for the first time I had the question "Why is cale oblivious to his own actions destroying his slacker dream? Why does this man turn the world upside down and still thinks he might be unknown at the end of the day? ?" In my mind all the time..

So, I decided to analyse his actions in his own perspective!

What did Kim Rok Soo do that was so different from Cale? Nothing really, in both lives he's doing the same exact thing :

• Fighting the evil beings with overwhelming advantage (as much as he could).

• Scamming the bad guys in whatever way he does it.

• Preparing several plans for most possible situations before stepping in.

•Encourages and helps his people to become stronger and uses their abilities in the most efficient way helping them 'stand out more than him' as he thinks.

• Has no problem in retreating if the situation is not going as intended, prioritise his people's wellbeing above all else!

• Works from the rear as a strategist, but is always ready to step in whenever the situation goes south to flip the tables; not just turn them.

He has been doing this since he became a team leader and has continued in the same manner after transmigrating, so far almost 13 years !!

But here's the one most important difference between now and then: Cale is not affected by the White Star's curse anymore! Since it broke the moment he transmigrated into Cale's body nothing now is hiding his achievements from the world.

However, as a victim of both WS's reincarnation and og Cale's transmigration, (the curse's cause and its breaker) he had no idea, until recently, so this is the thing Cale does not understand the most. He may have figured out the concept of what effected him but he's yet to link his past to his present comparing them to the point he believes this is an important factor of why he's becoming a worlds wide hero.

So when he says 'i just wanted to be a small hero why isn't it working like it always has?!' he actually means it and is genuinely confused! (And certainly justified) Because why ,if he does almost the same strategy, is he's having different results this time!?

The variables become clearer if you have an outsider pov, for example: krs's curse made it that he can't cherish anything or be cherished, that's why all the people he cared about left him one way or another, This explains why Cale can't understand why his family care for him. Something inside of him thinks unconsciously "How are they still here?". It's not that he's in denial, it's rather that he has never been given the chance to process this love and care in his 40 years of life, for as soon as he starts to accept that he may have a chance of happiness, it's immediately stolen from him, leaving him more traumatized than before...

Another side would be that every time a chance arised for him to standout in public, like the speech thing he talked about, "something" would happen; a monster outbreak, an accident, or maybe an unexpected attack from some evil ability users...

Which means it's not only his desire to stay hidden that has been keeping his achievements in the dark as krs, it was mostly his curse and when he couldn't be praised he thought 'Well, who wants public recognition anyway?'

You can see he was well-known inside his feild, the government,guilds and throughout the company, He was almost an idol to the people in the brain team! But that's where it stopped, always.

So, it's totally understandable how Cale gets confused everytime he does something good and is praised and cheered for by the citizens; what he had learnt from YEARS of experience is that whatever he did, in the end it remained between these companies walls. [It mostly won't go further unless someone is digging around, like the assassins and illegal guilds that hated him]

No matter what good deeds he does, he can't be 'loved', for he is cursed to be left alone. I mean, we still barely know ANYTHING about team leader krs,his abilities, exact strategies, his team and their relationship with each other what other hardships did he face?

The speech curse is one thing we figured just recently and it never crossed my mind before that he could have been in such a situation...

Maybe he never bought a better house because each time he tried it would get destroyed because he "can't have anything to cherish" so he had to be stuck with the wrecked place that triggered his records and brought him more pain and suffering...?

Back to the point, krs was free to do much more without standing out, he didn't have these "fame/heroic consequences" as for he thought this was the norm for him at least, and tbf that's a major one less headache for him to deal with since he had enough enemies already. And he's a shy little boy but we don't talk about that !

And one little thing to note, he's used to trouble coming after him, and he has this sense of responsibility that he should be the one dealing with all of the trouble since most of the time he concluded that he was the reason everyone around him got hurt...and he can't forget so that's two reasons why he's now dealing with all these problems even if his actions now have such consequences or if it brings him more trouble.

If your daily life was like this of course you'll be confused to WHY ISN'T IT WORKING OUT I JUST WANTED TO LIVE IN PEACE !!!

[sydneymykah]

WHAT’S NEXT FOR THE MUSIC INDUSTRY?

☆ Neptune in Aries and the music industry ☆

☆ I've seen a lot of people make the realization that the Grammy’s were actually enjoyable this year. The public mostly agreeing that the awards given out were justified and long over due for certain artists. (Disregarding pointless stan wars) There was a section during the ceremony where the head of the grammy committee gives a speech about making things right and rewarding artists more for innovation. For example; Beyonce finally getting Album of the Year, an award that has been long overdue according to fans and critics. Along with her best country album win that even shocked her. And the Grammys giving The Weeknd a formal apology for not nominating him after he had one of the most iconic eras of music we’ve since in the past decade. It also seems like music award shows are slowly becoming more enjoyable again.

☆ Festivals like Coachella recently sparked conversation and arguments about what is acceptable as a performer, with all of artists getting flack for being lack luster, low energy and lacking professionalism while performing. Especially when you’re in this economy where you want to get your moneys worth. Other artists being praised for putting in actual effort and people even saying that Megan Thee Stallion should’ve been a headliner.

☆ Apps like TikTok changing how music and artists get recognized adding onto the digital era of music. But ever since the end of quarantine blowing up on TikTok for your music is more sparse, especially with the app constantly being threatened to be banned in America. And your chance of sticking is less and less in such a now crowded space.

☆ The most current thing about music that is making the rounds is the rise in main female pop and rap stars vs the men. It seems like every year a new pop girlie is announced or started to gain momentum and sky rockets to stardom. Whilst for male artists the competition seems to be more sparse.

☆ All of these things occurring during the tail end of Neptune in Pisces. So it sparks the question;

HOW WILL MUSIC CHANGE WITH NEPTUNE IN ARIES?

☆ Neptune is a very mysterious planet. Many of its rulings feeling contradictory to one another. It can rule compassion and kindness but also deception and delusion. One of its rulings is melodies/music.

☆ Neptune entered Pisces August 2011. The state of music in 2011 going onward was this:

The increasing rise of streaming

The widespread of new emerging Artists via the internet (social media)

Rap (specifically mumble and female rap) and Edm/Dance topping the charts and radio

The new mainstream trend of blending genres

The rise of music from other cultures and countries in western media

Pisces Neptune and the ending of things:

☆ Pisces is the last sign of the zodiac and can often show us what is dissipating and coming to an end, not necessarily being destroyed (that would be more pluto energy) but a cycle that is ending at least for now. Pisces is spiritual, referred to the higher realm, and can be considered a healing sign. Therefore Neptune in pisces coming to an end can show what the world of music has learned and healed from. The ripple effect that will lead to the Aries transit. It seems that people are tired of just the chill vibes and wants energy in music and on stage again. In essence for the past few years the music scene has been in a limbo but artists who bring the heat are getting more recognition and respect, for ex: Megan thee Stallion. Or artists who are more blunt and bold with their lyricism and performances. Ex Sabrina Carpenter (esp with her Juno positions) Also whilst I do enjoy artists feeling more comfortable than ever in their art and music (as Neptune is at home in Pisces) it has also made music a bit calm. Many people complaining that we don’t have many powerhouses in the mainstream. It’s hard to think that someone like a Whitney Houston or Aretha Franklin will be a heavy hitter in the mainstream but with the Aries in Neptune transit now here i believe there’s a chance of that. Less whisper singers or people who can’t sing on stage without sounding out of breathe constantly (no shade)

The last time Aries was in Neptune

☆ The last time Neptune was in the sign of Aries the biggest historical event(s) to take place was the Civil War. I feel the need to talk about this because in a lot of my predictions that are below I believe this new wave of music will be filled with revolution topics and artists getting their emancipation back. Artists challenging labels or calling out labels for ex Chappell Roans speech at the Grammies talking about healthcare for artists. Beyonce taking back genres once owned and created by black people that have overtime been taken by white people. Also Movies like Sinners getting so much love from the mainstream, with a messages that center around individualism/identity, your passions, and people who prey on your talents for their own gain (Neptune also rules film) and the Cowboy Carter tour being filled with messages saying “You can’t reclaim something that already belongs to you” I see Artists and people in the music industry will start to fight for their autonomy and freedoms. I see artists that will refuse to conform. They will set their own paths and change how things are operating behind the scenes. In a sense making things right (by their own definition)

MY MUSIC/MUSIC INDUSTRY PREDICTIONS

Resurgence of Artist Development

☆ Complaints on artists with no media training and lack of professionalism from mainstream artists have been a complaint for a while. I think the chill laid back nature of artists is slowly not becoming the cool norm anymore and people want authenticity still yes but they also want to see drive and passion. Being nonchalant is a trend amongst more of the younger generation and the fear of being a try hard will make you look cringe. But I think this transit will glamorize being a hard worker and someone of passion. If labels are smart they’ll start actually devolving artists behind the scenes like they did in the 90s. Beyond labels I think more artists will treat their craft with more discipline.

More powerful independent music labels

☆ Aries is known to be one of the more independent signs. Off that fact alone I’d hope to see more and more artists be independent and/or sign to new independent labels that might have a chance of becoming extremely successful. It’s not exactly a secret that labels have been getting lots of flack for not prioritizing their artists health, finical stability or actually giving the artists the dreams they’re selling. It’s becoming more and more of a better option to be an independent artist than it is to sign to a label since they’re essentially glorified banks that give out huge loans. Aries being innovate, first of the zodiac and independent may give independent labels and artists the chance to thrive.

Shortcuts in music

☆ Aries is a temperamental and emotional sign. Quick to get riled up in passionate emotions and easily one of the most impatient of the signs. This leads me to believe that music will have a lot of shortcuts and quick fixes or “cheatcodes” if you will which sadly reminds me of AI and AI music. If there’s an artist who comes out who strictly issues AI and becomes popular I will not be surprised. I can also see this as labels growing more impatient with signing new artists who have potential to go viral but don’t after a certain amount of time and more artists getting dropped for those reasons

Extreme competitiveness behind the scenes

☆ Ares is the god of war and very militant. I see a lot of strategic fighting and dirty plays being made even more so in the industry. I think the more and more new artists are able to blow up and sign to management/have distribution deals the more competitive the field will become. It’s already a competitive industry but I think it’s going to enter a whole new phase of it. For ex; I think labels are gonan start cracking down on finding and developing the new “black pop girl”. And black girls in pop/rnb who are already established, their teams will most likely try to jump on that opportunity or put them on the back burner for someone else (harsh but the truth in this field). I also see artists and their teams being more strict.

New leaders, holy trinities and standards

☆ Aries is the first sign in the zodiac and is known to be trailblazing and set standards. Neptune in Aries will bring a new era of music along with new leaders of music, and new holy trinities. Similar to Mariah, Whitney, and Celine being the holy trinity when Neptune was in Sagittarius/Aquarius and Rihanna, Nicki, and Beyonce being our gens big three when Neptune was in Pisces this new era will give us a new standard to look up to.

More innovative/trailblazing performances

☆ I see new ways of performing making the mainstream. We’ve gotten used to the norm of award show performances, the Super Bowl and the typical day time/late night television performance. I can see music teams, labels and artists getting more creative with places to perform and do performances never done before. For ex. The Beyonce Bowl. Although it was still a NFL performance not only was it live streamed to Netflix but was a Christmas Day special performance with such a high production it was a performance an artist hadn’t done for the NFL Christmas show before. Performances like that might inspire people in the industry to come up with performances that haven’t been done before and become new norms.

Rock/Grunge Comeback

☆ When it comes to specific genres I do believe rock, rock influenced music and grunge will become mainstream again. Especially with black artists as it’s speculated artists like Beyonce will be releasing a Rock inspired album for her 3rd act album. I think it’s pretty self explanatory why Aries in Neptune can bring back the rock wave. Rock can be extremely powerful, expressive, emotional (not just including rage and anger), a lot of people consider rock to only be an aggressive genre so it coming back during this transit would aline very well with what a lot of people have been feeling. Music can reflect the world we live in and it’s safe to say A LOT of people are angry. Rock has always been a revolution filled genre with subjects that often criticize and rebel against the status quo and polices/systems against the oppressed

The New Male Pop Star

☆ Aries is masculine and even though it doesn’t necessarily mean men I do think we’re long overdue for a new male pop star or just star in general. A Justin Bieber, A Harry Styles, an Usher or maybe even someone who will live up to a legacy like Micheal Jackson. We’ll have to wait and see 🤫

What’s your prediction for what will happen to music and the music industry with the Aries Neptune transit?

Xoxo

- Sydney Mykah ✫彡

[parkerslatte]

Saviour

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of torture. blood and injury. survivors guilt.

Summary: After Amarantha had kept Y/N locked up for ten years, she is finally reunited with Eris.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N was unaware of how long it had been since she was locked away deep below the mountain. There was no sun, barely any light and the only company she had were the rats that frequented her cell. It hadn’t always been this way, before she was locked away, she at least had contact with others– despite how unpleasant it was. It wasn’t until she made her third escape attempt that she was thrown into this very cell, even more isolated than the ones several feet above her. 

It had been a long time since Y/N’s hope had abandoned her, memories had begun to fade in her dire existence despite her efforts to cling onto them. The one memory she did retain was one of beauty and love, one she treasured above all. Eris’s Vanserra’s face was one she would never be able to forget even if she tried. The final caress of his face was burned onto her palm. Even with all of her hope gone, there was still that miniscule spark that still shone brightly within her. 

Y/N wasn’t certain that anyone would ever come looking for her. When Amarantha had personally dragged her down here, the look on everyone else’s faces was one of pure dread. No one thought she would still be alive. Her shackles around Y/N’s wrists and ankles made her power useless so she couldn’t even try and signal for anyone to help her. Not that anyone would even attempt such a fatal action. 

It had been a while since she had been given food and her small water supply was gone; Y/N was beginning to become restless. Even in the damp and cold cell she was in, a full meal was brought to her once a day. At first Y/N refused to eat anything in fear it was poisoned but the more her hope was melted, she began to eat, not afraid if it was poisoned anymore. 

Y/N dragged her body to the bars and held into them. The long hall before her was pitch black and the only light was two everburning torches each fixed to the walls outside of her cell. Everything was even more deathly silent now. 

Her voice hadn’t been used in years and even opening her mouth to speak was a foreign feeling.

“Hello?” Y/N didn’t recognise her own voice. It was scratchy and quiet and nothing like the elegant speech she once heard flow from her own mouth. 

There was no response. Everything remained silent; not even the rats made a noise. Y/N crawled back over to the pile of rags in the corner of her cell– her rather poor excuse for a bed. Her eyes closed and Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if they would open again. 

***

When Y/N awoke, it was sudden as her sleep was disturbed by the echo of footsteps coming from down the long passageway. Her eyes opened and in the far distance she could see the flicker of a flame. Y/N sat up from the bundle of rags, chains rattling. 

The flame grew closer and closer until a figure was visible, a dark cloak draped over their shoulders. It was a cloak Y/N didn’t recognise and that small spark within her ignited once more. She tried to call out but it was as if her voice had failed her completely. The words were stuck in her throat. 

The figure drew closer and Y/N gripped onto the bars of the cell tightly. With each step, her heartbeat sped up as a million possibilities swam through her head. What if it was someone coming to finally kill her? What if it was someone finally coming to save her?

The flame which was hovering above the figure's hand disappeared and Y/N’s eyes widened in recognition. A hand pulled back the figure’s hood and tears welled in Y/N’s eyes. 

“Y/N?” The unmistakable voice of Eris Vanserra whispered. 

Once again Y/N tried to speak but her voice caught in her throat. More tears flowed. 

“Y/N…” Eris said softly, bending down, his hands encasing hers that were gripping the bars. Y/N only continued to cry.

The only sound that echoed was Y/N’s sobs and the small cries from Eris. Y/N was afraid to close her eyes and find that everything was a dream. Everything felt too good to be true.

“How can I get you out of here?” Eris asked, his voice a whisper of disbelief. 

Y/N slowly pointed to the keys hung next to one of the torches. “Amarantha wanted my freedom to be within sight but without ever being able to reach it.” It was the most Y/N had spoken in a long time. 

Eris was immediately up on his feet and grabbed the keys before placing the key in the lock on the cell door. 

This is it, Y/N thought. I will finally be free. 

The metal door screeched open and Y/N sat back as Eris stepped forward and crouched down. He held his hand out to unlock the shackles next. Y/N stared at his hand for a moment before placing her hand in his. His touch was warm and comforting, it was just as she remembered. 

The shackles were taken off one by one. The scars they each left behind was going to be a reminder to Y/N for her entire life. 

“Can you stand?” Eris asked.

Y/N shook her head. She hadn’t even attempted but she already knew that she was too weak to support her own weight. Eris nodded and gently listed Y/N into his arms, cradling her against his chest. For the first time in years, Y/N felt her body relax. She was safe.

Eris began to walk down the passageway and Y/N’s eyes slowly shut. She allowed herself to fall unconscious in the arms of her love.

***

In a cabin deep in the Autumn Forest, Eris gently laid an unconscious Y/N down upon a bed. There was dried blood surrounding her wrists like a bracelet— a bracelet Eris wishes never decorated her body. 

Eris didn’t want to leave her alone but he needed supplies to clean the wounds around her wrists and ankles. The moment he gathered the supplies he was immediately by her bedside. 

The bond between them— the only word to describe it was sensitive. Eris felt everything Y/N did, every bit of pain, every bit of happiness. He felt everything. 

Y/N looked so fragile laid upon the bed. It had been ten years since Amarantha dragged Y/N away and that was the day the bond went silent. For ten years Eris thought Y/N was dead— he thought he was searching for her body. 

When Eris’s eyes landed upon her frail figure behind those cell doors, he was relieved but at the same time he thought of everything Y/N had been through since she had been locked away. He never even got to say goodbye to her, nobody knew of their relationship and if Amarantha was to find out, Eris couldn’t even begin to imagine the worse torment she would have put Y/N through. 

Eris gently cleaned away the dried blood from Y/N’s body and the moment he was done, his eyes burned as tears formed. He quietly cried as he gently gripped onto her hand. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Eris whispered, bringing her hand to his mouth. “I should have saved you years ago.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to Y/N’s hand as Eris allowed his tears to finally fall. 

***

When Y/N woke, she was shocked to feel a soft mattress pressing into her back instead of hard stone. The smell of the damp walls was replaced with the sweet smell of her favourite tea. It had been so long since she had smelt it. 

Her body felt lighter too. As she lifted her hand she was pleased to not hear the metal of the shackles bashing together. Y/N cracked one eye open and light flooded her vision and she quickly closed them once more. She had spent years in the dark with her only source of light being two torches. Seeing natural light was a luxury Y/N never thought she would see again. 

Y/N tried once again to open her eyes. Light flooded her vision once again but she persevered. As she got used to it, the wider she opened them, being greeted to the sight of the homey decoration of a cabin. Decoration she picked out herself many years ago. 

Footsteps came closer to the door and Y/N’s body tensed as it was opened. Her body relaxed once she saw the familiar face of her mate. 

“Eris…” Y/N whispered. 

The glass of water Eris held in his hand shook as he took a step closer to the bed and placed the water down on the bedside table. “Y/N…” he said. 

Y/N slowly lifted her arm, it felt strange without the weight forcing it down. She reached out for Eris and he happily complied, sitting by her side in an instant, warm hands encasing her cold ones.

“I’m alive?” She asked, wanting to know that this wasn’t some trick of her mind.

Eris nodded, seemingly afraid to use his voice. 

“You saved me,” Y/N said with the strangest feeling on her face. It was a smile. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she smiled. 

“I did,” Eris replied. “I should have saved you sooner.”

“You saved me,” Y/N repeated. “Thank you.”

“Please don’t thank me,” Eris mumbled. “I should have saved you the moment Amarantha took you away. I shouldn’t have waited until after her death–”

“She’s dead?” Y/N questioned. 

Eri’s eyebrows furrowed. “How much do you know?”

“Nothing,” Y/N said. “My last memory of anything out of that cell was being dragged away after attempting to escape. How long ago was that? Everything blurred together in that cell.”

“Ten years ago,” Eris said, his grip tightening on her hand. 

Y/N’s eyes widened. Ten years had passed since she was locked in that cell. Ten years of torture at the hands of Amarantha. Ten years away from her mate. 

“But she is dead, correct?” Y/N said, wanting complete confirmation. 

Eris nodded. “Tamlin killed her.”

“Good,” Y/N said. “That’s good.”

“Y/N–”

“That’s amazing. She stole ten years of my life,” Y/N cried, tears falling down her cheeks. “She took ten years from me, away from everyone, bound where no one will hear me. She took me away from you.”

“Y/N–” “That isn’t fair. How can she kill so many under that stupid mountain but leave me alive? That isn’t fair! Why did she keep me alive and alone for a decade?” Y/N cried. 

Y/N’s body shook with her sobs as she felt her whole body being encased, though it was pleasant. Y/N’s arms wrapped around Eris as she melted into him. It felt nice to be held by him once again. His scent invaded her nose and she breathed it in deeply. No matter how much time had passed, his scent was still the same. It had always comforted her, as it always would. 

“I don’t know,” Eris muttered against her head. “I wish I did but I don’t.”

Eris continued to hold Y/N in his arms until she pulled away, wanting to look at his face. She hadn’t taken in his features at all. He still looked the same, though he looked tired and exhausted. His hair was longer too, tied neatly at the back of his neck, a few strands escaping to rest over his forehead. 

“I thought of you every night,” Y/N whispered. “I gave up hope long ago of anyone finding me, but every so often that hope was ignited again by the thought of you.”

“I thought I was searching for a body,” Eris confessed, his hold on Y/N tightening. “When she took you, I could no longer feel the bond. It was as if it had been erased.”

“It was the shackles,” Y/N replied, looking at her scarred wrists and ankles. “It blocked all magic and that included the mating bond.”

“Since I no longer felt the bond, I thought you were dead,” Eris said. “When Amarantha was killed and everyone left to go to their homes, I stayed to search the whole place for your body. And all I could think of was how I never got to say goodbye to you.”

“I should have died,” Y/N muttered. “How can I live when so many others died? High lords included. What was so special about me?”

The warmth of Eris’s hand caressed her face. “Everything is special about you. Every little thing, don’t ever forget that. Every single night under that damned mountain I would pray for you and I am sure I have never prayed in my life. I prayed that we would be reunited one day, either in this life or the next. My prayers were answered when I found you alive.”

“But–”

“Y/N, I can’t say I know how you feel but I know what I feel and what I feel in pure love and adoration for you,” Eris said. “I will help you out with whatever you are feeling. I will go wherever you wish to go. I will leave if you wish for space to heal on your own. But I need you to know that I will help you. You are my mate and the love of my life, I don’t wish to see you blame yourself for anything.”

“Thank you, Eris,” Y/N said, hugging him tighter, burying her head into his shoulder.

“Don’t thank me,” Eris replied, “I will do anything for you, Y/N.”

“Right now, I only want to lay here with you,” Y/N said. “Everything still doesn’t feel real. I’m afraid to wake up in that cell again.”

“I can guarantee that this is real Y/N, we are finally home,” Eris said. A small, genuine smile twitched at Y/N’s lips. “And by some hellish reason that this isn’t real, then you must know that I will still be looking for you. In every universe I will be looking for you and I will never stop until I find you, no matter how long it takes.”

“I love you, Eris,” Y/N said, cuddling into Eris’s side. 

“I love you too, Y/N,” Eris said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I love you so much.”

It wasn’t long until Y/N drifted off to sleep once more, the exhaustion weighing heavily upon her. She was no longer afraid to fall asleep, not while Eris was beside her. He would always protect her and would always stand by her side, as he always had– as he always would. 

[gr4cier4cie]

♡ hometown glory (some things never change) ♡

or: george was your best friend. still is, if you're being honest with yourself. when your paths happen to cross by chance a decade after you last saw each other, it becomes harder and harder to deny that you really let him go. fem!childhood!bf!reader x george russell

warnings: would it be gracie without angst? NAH. thank you so so so much to @binisainz for being the reason i wrote for george XOXO!!

♡

you hear him before you see him. he's laughing when your eyes finally land, the sight of him cutting through the paddock like a perfectly-executed qualifying lap. and isn't that just so typical of george russell? always finding ways to wreck you when you least expect it, even after a decade of careful, practiced indifference. you kept your distance. he kept his. (well, you tried, anyway. worked for haas. then ferrari. a brief stint at aston martin. and now mercedes. it was chance, you reasoned. not fate.)

your feet move before your brain can catch up. (muscle memory, you'll tell yourself later. your body remembers the pull of him, the orbit of eyes you thought you'd left behind.) "george?"

his name feels foreign and familiar all at once, reminiscent of an old jumper left unworn. you watch his spine straighten (still terrible posture, some things never change), watch recognition ripple across his features like rain on a race track. and when he turns, when his eyes catch yours, you fight to breathe.

"bloody hell," he whispers, and oh–oh no, because his media smile is cracking open into something real, something that looks too much like the boy who used to climb through your window with contraband sweets and whispered dreams about a life on the track. "jesus. it's really you."

here is what no one told you about the passage of time: it's supposed to make things easier. smooth the rough edges of memories until everything feels distant and dull. but standing here, watching george's hands fidget like they used to before important races, as if he's fighting the urge to reach out to grasp your palm in his (like he used to), you feel every second of the last decade go up in smoke.

you both move forward. both stop short. because how do you greet someone who used to know every corner of your soul (and your home)? how do you greet a stranger?

you settle for a half-hug over his shoulder, reaching up to let your fingers sink into the hair at the nape of his neck. he feels the same. looks the same. sounds the same. how come, then, does everything feel so damn different? how come, then, does everything feel like it's changed?

"i watched your last race," you offer like you haven't watched every single one. like you don't still have his first karting trophy hidden in a box under your bed (the one he'd pressed into your hands with that crooked smile, insisting "it's lucky when you hold it, you know it is").

"yeah? how'd i do?" you are suddenly reminded of the way he used to practice podium speeches in your backyard during the summer months, begging you to pretend to interview him so someday, he'd be ready. "been a bit busy lately, haven't i?"

yes. yes, you have been. you laugh, but it's careful. cautious.

there are thousands of questions fighting to escape: do you still hate mushrooms? did you ever finish that book i lent you? do you ever think about that night before you left, when you looked at me like you'd miss me forever?

instead, what comes out is: "you sure have."

something flickers across his face then, something that makes your ribcage feel too small for your lungs. because this is george–your george–who used to know exactly how many sugars you took in your tea, who spent an entire summer helping you perfect your parallel parking. who promised he'd never forget you, right before he left for racing academy and disappeared from your life like smoke after a burnout.

"listen," he starts. "i've got this thing tonight, at the dorchester. terrible food. but maybe—"

"george!" a voice cuts through the moment like a safety car deployment. "five minute warning!"

he winces, and for a second, you see that little boy again, the one who always had somewhere else to be, someone else to become. who had dreams that touched the moon and back. "i have to—"

"go," you finish, because some habits are harder to break than others. "i know."

he takes a step backward, then stops. reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "your number," he says, not quite a question. "is it still—?"

"i changed it," you reply, and watch his face fall just slightly. awareness dawns. (you're not the same as you were.) "but i'm sure you can find me. you always could."

it's only after he's gone, swallowed by the crowd and his obligations, that you realize you're shaking. because george russell still smells like lazy sunday mornings and all of his goddamn broken promises, and you're suddenly, terrifyingly certain that you never actually learned how to exist in a world where you're not in love with him.

oh, how the time flies.

♡

here's the thing about press conferences at the dorchester: george has done exactly thirty-seven of them. he knows this because he counts them now, uses them to mark time like tire compounds or engine modes or the number of times he almost called you over the years (hundreds, not that he's keeping track).

tonight makes thirty-eight, and he can't focus on a single bloody word.

"—your thoughts on the upcoming race weekend, george?"

he blinks at the sky sports microphone suddenly in his face. tries to remember how to string words together.

(because you're still here. still real. still... his. how is he supposed to think about track conditions when all he can think about is the way you'd stopped short of hugging him, like you weren't sure you had the right anymore? like you didn't know him?)

"the track conditions are..." he starts, then loses the thread completely. because his brain is stuck on replay: the way you'd said his name, soft and uncertain and achingly familiar. the way you'd looked at him like he was simultaneously the boy you used to know and a stranger wearing his face. words simply tasted like ash in his mouth.

toto shoots him a concerned look from the corner, the same look he gives when george takes a corner too hot, when he pushes the car past its limits, when he risks everything for one perfect moment.

"sorry," he manages, with a self-deprecating laugh that sounds hollow even to his own ears. "bit knackered from quali. the track conditions are looking promising, and mercedes has put in some brilliant work on the car."

somewhere in london, you're probably going about your evening, and he doesn't know what you do, where you live, if you still drink that horrible peach tea you used to love. doesn't know if you're seeing someone, if you're happy, if you think about him even half as much as he thinks about you.

that's a lie.

he knows exactly what you do–saw it on linkedin during one of those nights, when the weight of missed chances felt heavier than marble on his chest. senior engineering project manager. of course you are.

"—about your rivalry with max this season?"

christ, he's zoning out again. (he'd stalked your instagram, too, when it got really unbearable. had seen you in one of his old hats, in a post buried in your tagged photos from silverstone a few years ago. you didn't know how he'd searched the crowd that day, aching for a sight of you.)

"george." toto's voice cut in, his hand on george's shoulder breaking his reverie. "i think that's enough questions for tonight, yes?"

he pulls out his phone back in his driver's room before he can think better of it. your old number is still in his contacts, and he hovers a thumb over it, gritting his teeth.

but i'm sure you can find me. you always could.

it takes him exactly three minutes to find your current number. (being a formula one driver has its perks, and having a very efficient personal assistant is one of them.) he stares at it for so long the screen dims, brightens, then dims again.

his hands are shaking as he types. (this is somehow harder than threading the needle between two cars at 200 miles per hour.)

Do you still take your tea with four sugars?

you respond within seconds.

No. It's six now. But I'd be willing to revisit four.

he actually laughs out loud. tries to keep from finding the nearest toilet and flushing his phone down it.

Breakfast this weekend?

the three dots taunt him for a minute. then two. then three. then:

Only if you're paying.

it is terrifying, how easy it is to fall back into old patterns with you. how easy you have made it. but he is smiling when he clicks send.

Deal. See you soon. Missed you.

you heart the message. then, minutes later, respond only with:

Missed you too.

♡

mayfair isn't foreign to you.

you know its streets like you know your own heartbeat. know which galleries on mount street will let you wander for hours without buying anything you can't afford. know which bakeries have the best pastries, which corners of the layout catch the morning sun, which benches in berkeley square are perfect for people-watching.

but seeing george russell sitting in your favorite café at a table near the window, leg bouncing under the table, is foreign. new.

your breath catches in your throat. (how are you supposed to handle this? handle him? how are you supposed to walk in there and pretend that ten years ago, george russell didn't know every corner of your soul?) you could simply turn around. could text some excuse about traffic, or a meeting, or—

he looks up.

you go in.

"you're early," you say, sliding into the seat across from him, lips quirking upward. "that's new." your eyes catch on his lips as they widen; he is sharp where he used to be soft, all media smiles and crisp white collars. you force your hands to steady. (you're too fond of his instagram nowadays, scrolling through picture after picture until your eyes cross. dinners with people you don't recognize. races won, races lost. women of his past with their arms wrapped around his neck. that last one always makes you cry.)

he rolls his eyes, but there's something soft in it. something knowing. "and you're perfectly on time. that's not."

the waiter arrives, saving you from having to answer. george orders an omelet without mushrooms, and something in your chest clenches. "still hate them, then?" you ask, tilting your head. "mushrooms?"

"some things never change," he says softly.

you take a deliberate sip of your tea to avoid his eyes. (he'd ordered you four sugars. of course.) "like what?"

his fingers tap against the table. one-two-three, one-two-three, like he's counting lap times or measuring the distance between then and now. between decades. "like you."

(you're aware that george russell calculates everything. brake points and racing lines and the exact pressure needed to make a car dance on the edge of control. well, everything except the way he could have called you 520 times had he only picked up the phone once a damn week.)

"i'm not..." you start, then stop, swallowing hard. "i'm not the same."

his smile is soft. knowing. "aren't you?" you're suddenly all the more aware of the way his ice-blue gaze trails across your face, your neck, the line of your shoulders.

"i mean," you continue, lacking conviction. "i moved out of king lynn."

"your parents still live there, don't they?" george cuts in, crooking a brow. "how's your mum?"

you shrug, lifting your cup to your mouth. "she's... good. fine." she misses you, is what you didn't say. she was there for me when you left and all of a sudden life felt empty without you. she asks me about you, even now, despite the fact that we don't talk. she's still insistent on the idea that i'll be your wife, someday. "and yours?"

george huffs. "hasn't changed since you saw her last." it is strangely comforting, for him to act like ten years is nothing more than a weekend away. "she asks about you more than she asks about me, actually."

you choke, flinching. "what do you tell her?"

he looks away, caught. "usually just change the subject." his fingers resume their tapping, and you fight the urge to shadow his palms with yours, touch him for the hell of it. "are you..." he inhales sharply. "are you seeing anyone?"

you look up, startled by the change in his tone. "no."

"why?" (it's so like him, to demand explanations, wanting to know everything and anything.)

"i just can't. right now." the words fall like something breaking, like a confession you hadn't exactly meant to let loose. "there's a lot. with work, i mean. you would know."

his nod is slow. you could fool yourself into believing it is understanding if it wasn't for the slight narrowing of his eyes, the furrow of his brow. "i remember you saying london was the city of love."

that's only because you were in it, you want to scream. "that's paris," you chuckle, stirring another sugar cube into your tea. "besides, it's not... the right time for me. i haven't even been with anyone since—" oh, god.

he stares at you for a beat too long, fingers curling around his coffee cup like it's the only thing anchoring him to his seat. "do you ever think about it? that night?"

you blink once. then twice. debate not answering. "which one?"

he breathes out a laugh—soft and hollow and almost fond. fond of you. “you know which one.”

(the creak of your bedroom window as he climbed in, shoes toed off at the foot of your bed. the way you sat up, cross-legged, knees touching his as he sat beside you. your fingers in his hair while he confessed he was scared he'd never make it in the junior team all alone, that he wasn't good enough, that he'd miss you more than he thought he could miss anything. your lips brushing his, his hands trembling on your bare waist, the sunrise bleeding through your curtains as he pulled you into his chest. intimacy you let him have. a moment you let him keep. he left before your mum woke up and never came home.)

you look away. suddenly your eyes sting, and you actively steady your breath. "we were kids, george. it didn’t mean anything.”

he stiffens. his voice is quiet when he says, “it did.” then again, louder, like maybe if he says it twice it’ll matter more. “it meant everything to me.”

your answering smile holds no warmth. “but you didn’t call.”

he doesn't answer right away. just looks at you like he's seeing you again for the first time. as if you're fine art he once knew by heart, now dusted off and hung in a new gallery. it would have been easier, if he were heartless. cold.

"i was a coward," he says finally. "i thought if i stayed away from you, it would hurt less. the leaving."

you drop your eyes to the table. "yeah, well. it hurt like hell for me." he leans forward—to do what, you're not sure. to grab your hand? to press his forehead to yours like he had done when you were both nineteen, and young, and stupid, and desperately in love?

"let me make it up to you." his voice is broken. "please."

you can't bring yourself to look at him. "you can’t just—" you swallow hard. "george. you can’t just show up after a decade and expect a do-over. it's... done."

his eyes flicker down to your mouth and back up again. "don’t give me a do-over," he says, pleading. "give me a moment."

he leans across the table.

you don't stop him. not this time.

his lips are soft and sure against yours—tasting of regret and honeyed tea, ten years too late and somehow right on time. your fingers curl around the edge of the table, unable to give yourself the permission to hold him. that is, until he reaches forward and pries your white knuckles from the edge and interlaces your fingers with his. (for a second, just a second, it feels like forever.)

"some things," george whispers against your skin as you pull away, gripping the collar of his shirt for dear life, "never change."

for once, you think he might be right.

♡

note: goddamn WHY HAVE I WAITED SO LONG TO WRITE FOR GEORGE THIS WAS SO FUN i adore this concept hehe please let me know if you'd like to see childhoodbf!reader with any of the other drivers!! i also think imma keep this as a oneshot so this is where the story ends for these two!! MWAH as always!!

[starsandsuch]

ATMAKARAKA THROUGH THE HOUSES: how does your soul’s purpose manifest in this lifetime? 💡🦋

Your Atmakaraka is the planet in your Vedic Astrology chart with the highest degree. This planet represents your soul’s purpose in the lifetime.

Your Atmakaraka is called your soul planet or your AK planet. It is the significator of your soul.

The house your Soul Planet is in will paint a picture to how exactly your souls purpose will manifest in this lifetime.

Read my original post on identifying your soul planet: here

Atmakaraka in the 1H:

Your souls purpose is about self development. You’re meant to cultivate your own identity in this lifetime. Your major life lessons relate to being authentic and following your own journey. To develop strong boundaries between who you are vs what your expected to be. You’re meant to do things uniquely in a way that suits you and you only. Disregard the path society sets out for you, and create your own. You’re destined for notoriety and recognition.

Atmakaraka in the 2H:

Your soul’s purpose is about creating stability and security for yourself. Your meant to establish yourself in the material world, and be self-sufficient financially. You’re life’s journey is about sustenance. Sustaining yourself, your name, your possessions, your resources and your money. It’s all about creating and maintaining a proper foundation for yourself. You’re meant to use your voice as a method for fulfilling your purpose. Developing your speech to convey a message is apart of what your soul wants to do.

Atmakaraka in the 3H:

Your soul’s purpose is about communication. How do you express yourself? What mediums help you get your message across most authentically? You are destined to bring a specific message to the world that can only be channeled through you. Your destiny has a lot to do with speech, messages, media and conversation. You are meant to exercise a sense of courage in this life and do things fearlessly. Fearlessly communicating your authentic thoughts to the world. Saying what’s on your heart. Through music, writing, poetry, public speaking and the like.

Atmakaraka in the 4H

Your soul’s journey is about developing your inner happiness. Your meant to do what brings you emotional fulfillment. What makes you feel safe, secure, emotionally aligned? That is what your soul seeks to experience in this lifetime. Alignment with family and ancestors is a key life theme for you. To experience the emotional bond with people you call your family. You’re meant to get in touch with your roots, and align with the foundation of who you are. You’re soul seeks a sense of rootedness to the past in order to cultivate your future. The connection you have with your mother is an important part of your journey.

Atmakaraka in the 5H:

Your destined to express yourself creatively in this lifetime. You’re meant to develop and display your creative talents to the world. Your creative contributions are important, unique, and only can be expressed by you. Your life purpose is connected to performance, arts and entertainment. Through these mediums you are able to express your true soul purpose. Parenthood is a sacred journey for you, where you’re meant to experience preganacy/ raising a child. Your destiny is connected to children in general. Teaching them, guiding them, being involved in their development.

Atmakaraka in the 6H:

Your soul seeks to be of service in this lifetime. You are meant to be a healer. Healing yourself, healing those who need your help. Your power lies in being of service to humanity through your healing abilities. You are destined to overcome adversities and cultivate a sense of resilience. You’ll experience challenges, yet this transforms you into the ultimate problem-solver. You develop impenetrable strength: mentally, spiritually and psychologically. You incarnated because society needs your help, God sending one of his strongest soldiers to help heal the world. You have a special connection with animals in this lifetime. They are your allies in this journey.

Atmakaraka in the 7H

Your soul seeks to connect with others through partnership. Your soul’s purpose involves being in relationships that are fulfilling on a emotional, psychological and physical level. It is in your destiny to cultivate your social presence in the world, being a person of charm, decorum and worldliness. Your major life themes involve how you appeal to people and how you use your social connections to elevate your life. Your soul seeks to be impactful in society, through the social influence you have.

Atmakaraka in the 8H:

Your soul’s purpose is destined towards transformation. You experience blockages, challenges and adversities but come out stronger every time. You’re meant to turn your pain into power, to be an alchemist. Your soul came here to experience transformation. Spiritually, mentally, physically and psychologically. You’ll be faced with many unexpected crises yet your powerful intuition will always guide you. The occult knowledge you have will be key in your journey. You’re destined to experience the power that comes from transforming yourself and your life. You’re destined to leave a powerful legacy.

Atmakaraka in the 9H:

You’re destined to be a guide to others. Your soul came here with the purpose of spiritual evolution. Over the course of your life you’ll have many awakenings, epiphanies and realizations. This leads you to amassing abundant wisdom. You’re destined to teach the wisdom you have to others, guiding them on their paths. Your destiny is a worldly one, where it impacts people on a global scale. Your soul seeks the truth, spiritual knowledge, and the ability to live a life free of falsities and illusions.

Atmakaraka in the 10H:

You are destined to achieve your long term goals and be established in the material world. Your soul seeks achievement in the material world. To be successful , have recognition and status is what you’re here to achieve. Your destined to leave your mark on the world in an authentic way, your here to build and leave your legacy through your career and reputation. You are destined for fame or high status.

Atmakaraka in the 11H:

You are destined to fulfill your wishes and desires. Your life has a lot to do with manifesting. Manifesting your long term goals and unique visions. You are a visionary. You’re meant to focus on your gains in life and how you can achieve success in the material realm. Along the way you are likely to be popular and influential. Your purpose leads you to elevating humanity through your influence, there’s a deeper theme here of you making a difference in the world. Your goals and desires help the collective at large. Through your influence you help shape the trajectory of society.

Atmakaraka in the 12H:

Your destiny is about spiritual liberation. Your soul seeks truth and enlightenment. More importantly it seeks freedom from the cycles of reincarnation. You’re likely here on earth now as one of your final lifetimes. You are an old soul. This means your life is about letting go and not having attachments in the material realm that keep you trapped here. That’s why you’re on a discovery of truth. Dispelling illusions and aligning with your true spiritual journey. Your road is lonely, isolating and harrowing at times, but it’s all for the purpose of aligning you with your spiritual destiny. You are a healer and wise person. Your purpose involves being of service to others. You find it hard to connect to the material world/ mainstream society bc your destined for something greater. You’re meant to fulfill your spiritual goals more than material. 12th house is the “exit”. The spiritual, mystical exit where your soul elevates to the next realm after this incarnation, and you break free from being recycled back to earth.

Related posts:

Your soul planet and your mission in this lifetime

Your 1st house ruler and your unique life path

[with-my-murder-flute]

the hunt for enneameter: new and completely unprecedented levels of alectopause brainrot

Elseweb I was trying to explain to someone why I felt that Ortus had a strong formative influence on Gideon and Harrow. And the reason is: They don't speak like normal humans. They speak like people very accustomed to recitation, especially reciting metered poetry. (My brothers and I grew up in a youth group that did a lot of memorizing and reciting old-ass fancy talk, and oh boy is there a difference between the two)

And the person said they guessed they could see it with Harrow but they didn't get it with Gideon. So to demonstrate, I pulled out Gideon's "the only job" speech from early in GtN. Which is where my troubles started.

As Harrow promptly tells her, it's structured in a set of three unnecessarily long and punchy descriptions. That's a remarkable level of rhetorical flourish and suspicious all on its own.

And then I started trying to explain how I thought it scanned in iambic pentameter, and some of it is long strings of iambs, but not all. Then I remembered that I hate doing this crap because what feel like very natural stress patterns to me are not how people from other accents or countries would say it. And anyway, I gave up on explaining the scansion, and just tried to break it into what seemed like natural lines to demonstrate the similarity to something like Shakespeare. I included syllable counts as I saw them in parentheses at the end of the line. Not all the lines were iambic pentameter, but 10 absolutely was the mean and mode number of syllables per line.

And then I noticed that with my pronunciation ('kicked' and 'flipped' as one syllable), Gideon's little speech was 96 syllables long. Not quite the 99 you'd think is appropriate for the Ninth.

...And that recognition of the structure wound up most of the way to spring, needing just one tiny bit more to fully click, led me to remember that sometimes Shakespeare breaks up his speeches between characters, and they make the larger structure together. Like, Romeo shows up in the balcony scene declaring the first part of a sonnet about Juliet, and then she shows up and Uno reverses it on him with the last octave.

So I looked at Harrow's next line.

It was 3 syllables long and completely punctures Gideon's rising bubble of hot air.

I'M GOING TO COMPLETELY LOSE MY SHIT HERE TAMSYN--

G: Nonagesimus, the only job (9) I’d do for you would be if you wanted (10) someone to hold the sword as you fell on it. (11)

the only job I’d do for you would be (10) If you wanted your ass kicked so hard, (9) the Locked Tomb opened, and a parade came out (11) to sing, ‘Lo! A destructed ass.’ (8)

The only job I’d do would be if you (10) wanted me to spot you while you backflipped (10) off the top tier into Drearburh.(8)

H: That's three jobs. (3)

People who are good at cryptography and poetry scansion please help. Before I go off to tear all my pillows apart with my bare hands while weeping, I'll leave you with one last thing:

those who are fit but to hold their blade in the scabbard never to draw it forth for the battle

28 syllables. Harrow says it doesn't scan; Ortus refutes this and says it's "enneameter" (after the Greek word for "eight") and therefore does. Casual reminder that the Ninth is positively shitty with people keeping secrets from each other using complicated codes and ciphers. How does enneameter work?

(Final tidbit if you need extra incentive: He also says enneameter is "the traditional form". This may be a quotation from his own work, or it could be from some other mouldering old book in the Ninth's library. Just how old?)