#native as in I was born in a place moved to another and then learned that second language

[teecupangel]

Do we have a Phonenix yet in the menagire? We need one.

Phoenix!Desmond, probably looking like a normal bird for the most part, and stays with Sef when they go after the mongols (Altair probably thinks he's getting too old he looked a bit ratty lately) and takes the hit when Swami tries to kill him.

Idk whether to have this crack or angest with them thinking Desmond died, had a chick, and was apparently a female bird the entire time.

Okay, so I was checking the Phoenix wiki page for any information if it would be possible that Altaïr would know what a phoenix is and there’s this part written by Herodotus (yes, Kassandra’s Herodotos)

[The Egyptians] have also another sacred bird called the phoenix which I myself have never seen, except in pictures. Indeed it is a great rarity, even in Egypt, only coming there (according to the accounts of the people of Heliopolis) once in five hundred years, when the old phoenix dies. Its size and appearance, if it is like the pictures, are as follow: The plumage is partly red, partly golden, while the general make and size are almost exactly that of the eagle. They tell a story of what this bird does, which does not seem to me to be credible: that he comes all the way from Arabia, and brings the parent bird, all plastered over with myrrh, to the temple of the Sun, and there buries the body.

… which may be a reference to Bennu, the Egyptian deity connected to the sun, creation, and rebirth.

So Altaïr would meet him during his travels with Maria and he just stays. They assume he’s an exotic bird (or eagle), maybe a native to one of the places Altaïr and Maria visited.

Altaïr never told them that the bird flew into his room one night and began to chirp at him as if trying to tell him something. He also tried to tap the Apple but all it did was glow a bit.

The bird had been quite annoyed by it and began to hit it with his talons so quickly the Apple had a taptaptaptaptap sound rapidly before Altaïr could take the Apple.

After that, the bird just decided to sit on Altaïr’s shoulder when he left his room the following morning and Maria assumed he had bought the bird yesterday when they went their separate ways.

Her guess sounded so much better than the truth which was Altaïr spent the entire day yesterday holed up in his room, writing letters to be sent back to Masyaf as part of his deal with Malik in exchange for letting him go on this trip (which was to send letters detailing the geopolitical situations of the places he travels to with suggestion on what the Brotherhood should do in those parts… if they could do anything).

So nobody ever questioned the mentor’s newly acquired bird (except Malik but Malik had been more focused on the ex-Templar that Altaïr brought to Masyaf and married).

Then Darim and Sef were born and the bird (named Desmond because Altaïr thought of the name first when Maria asked what the bird’s name was) usually stayed with the children, letting out loud screeching cries whenever one of the two children were doing something they shouldn’t do.

When they got older, Darim and Sef learned the word ‘bribe’ and how Desmond can be easily bribed to look the other way in favor of delicious food.

Desmond stayed in Masyaf though, regardless if Altaïr or any of his sons left for a mission or to travel to a bureau. At some point, the bird had become a symbol of Brotherhood with its gold and red plumage.

So when Altaïr left with Maria and Darim to take down Genghis Khan, it was only natural for Desmond to stay with Sef in Masyaf.

Altaïr had been a bit conflicted though as Desmond’s feathers had grown quite… dull and he was moving slower than usual.

Maria and Malik both told them that Desmond was growing old and maybe it was time but the Ibn-La'Ahad boys refused to believe that.

Darim also believed that they might find medicine in one of the camps of the Mongols as they have been to many lands.

So when Desmond flew to protect Sef and got stabbed on the chest by Swami, Swami screamed as Desmond became shrouded in flames.

Swami burned as well and Sef could only watch in horror as white hot flames consumed the both of them.

Swami was left as a corpse charred beyond recognition.

While Desmond…

Only ashes remained…

And from those ashes…

Sef heard a small chirp.

As a little chick with red and gold plumage poked his head out of the ashes, shaking the ash from his small body.

Sef could only stare as he asked, “Desmond?”

And the bird gave him an enthusiastic chirp while jumping.

#ngl #super tempted to make desmond a female bird and have him freak out when he suddenly plopped an egg #we can go for the ‘his ancestors get reborn too as his children’ route #and the eggs stay dormant #until the death of his ancestors #so desmond’s gonna be the mother of a flock of phoenix(es) #desmond is turned into an animal subgenre #desmond is turned into a creature subgenre #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #altaïr ibn la'ahad #sef ibn la'ahad

[reversedanatomy]

Finding Peace: Chapter 5

TW: Self-pleasure, swearing

Author's Note: I threw this together in like a little over an hour in-between studying so it's messy, but I have IDEAS I want to throw out

You felt flushed, frustrated, and embarrassed. You rubbed your thumbs against your forefingers inside your pockets until they felt raw, and you counted the steps you took in-between each sidewalk crack. Your head fuzzed with compulsive thoughts. You felt yourself drowning in your introverted insecurities.

You were still mulling over the events that took place yesterday at the coffee shop. You replayed the redhead’s words in your head again and again, followed by your flighty response to get the fuck out of there due to your uncomfortableness. She was just trying to be nice, maybe even be your friend, but your anxiety made you jump to conclusions without any forethought.

In addition to this, you were panicking as you started towards your first day at work. The office wasn’t too far from home, but you still made use of the public transit system to give yourself plenty of time to pace outside the building to calm yourself down. You had no idea how work was going to react to your inability to speak Norwegian. The interviewer ensured that the office primarily spoke English, but you still felt like an asshole for not being able to speak in their native tongue.

You peered out of the bus windows as you rounded the street corner. Your eyes widened at the sight of a large, modernized office building with large glass windows wrapping around each story. With the rest of the city’s aesthetic, it caught you off guard how “American” this place was. American might be a very selfish, small-minded opinion about the building, but you quickly related this place to Chicago’s infrastructure.

After giving yourself some time outside of the bus to practice a few, reassuring breathing techniques, you headed inside to your first day at work. You met the practice manager, made quick acquaintances, and found yourself quickly at peace with the hospitality of the office employees. The job itself was not far from what you were used to, and so you found yourself useful quickly. Everyone appreciated this. You felt appreciated.

Time passed slowly, as it usually does on everyone’s first day of work. There was a lot of learning, especially becoming accustomed to new systems that you had never seen before in the States. Your manager was patient with you as you adjusted. As time felt slow, however, the clock was quick to click to 5 pm. A standard 9-5 never lasts as long as you think.

One of your coworkers you acquainted yourself with walked up to you as you were readying your things to leave. “Hey, some coworkers and I were planning on getting an afternoon coffee and we wanted you to come with,” he spoke politely. You already felt invited through his low, smooth voice.

“Yeah! I’d love to,” you turned to him with a smile. You packed up a textbook that your office had given you regarding the technicalities of the common systems you were going to use at work and slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Perfect,” he returned your smile warmly and walked you outside, where a man and another woman waited. You knew the coworker who invited you as David. David was also from the States, and you two connected quickly over how nervous you two both were first moving to Norway. The other two coworkers who you met outside were named Oskar and Olivia. They were siblings born in Norway to parents who immigrated from the UK. They found themselves speaking English more often than Norwegian growing up, but they were still fluent in both languages.

You followed the other three as they entered the bus towards downtown. You entertained the small talk as everyone asked you about where you specifically came from, what traditions are true versus exaggerated, and how you’re faring in a new country thus far. You responded with questions about their traditions, customs, and the language. You knew you’d always be viewed as an American here, but you wanted to do your best to seem at least a little less confused.

All four of you exited the bus, and they led you several blocks down the walkable streets. “This is our favorite place to go to unwind after work,” David said. “I hope you like it just as much as us.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you replied reassuringly. You were too caught up in conversation to recognize the familiarity of the street, however. When you all arrived at the coffee shop, you felt your breath escape you as you realized this was the same coffee shop you had been at the day prior. The same coffee shop where you had made a fool of yourself. You froze.

“Something wrong?” David asked as he held the door open for you. You broke from your shock and shook your head.

“Oh, no, haha it’s fine,” you laughed uncomfortably. “I was here yesterday. The coffee was really good, but I made a fool of myself trying to order.”

“Don’t worry, I can order for you,” David looked amused. “Just let me know what you want.”

“As long as you teach me how to order after. I still want to get it right.” David nodded in agreement to your request.

You all entered the building, and you quickly looked around to make sure the redhead wasn’t here again. Nothing would be more embarrassing than having to explain that you were nervous to be here for more reasons than just stuttering over your broken Norwegian. You asked David to order you a hot vanilla latte. He gave you a thumbs up and turned to the barista. For a man who was born and raised in the States, you couldn’t even tell he was an American. He spoke in perfect, unbroken Norwegian with a respectable accent. Of course, you probably couldn’t tell much of a difference coming from your background, but it was still impressive.

Despite your efforts to pay yourself, David paid for you. All four of you sat down at a rounded table with ample seating, and the conversation continued. You had a lot of fun laughing and sharing old memories with new people. Time continued to pass, and the conversation began to dwindle as your coworkers shared their mutual interest in parting for the night. You let them know you’d be staying a bit longer to decompress, and the three politely left to head home.

You leaned back into your chair and let out a content sigh. You felt pleased with the new friendships that you had made with your coworkers. Your mind was so preoccupied that you hadn’t had time to worry about adjusting to a new life and leaving your old life behind. You were excited that every day could be like this, and you felt confident you came to the right place. You let your mind wander.

“Is this seat taken?” A familiar, thick Russian voice shocked your mind back to reality. The redhead was standing across from you, holding the top of one of the other chairs in one hand and a coffee in the other. You felt yourself grow hot with embarrassment once again.

“Uh..” you felt yourself stumble over your words as you tried to formulate some coherent thought. “Oh, yeah, no, go ahead,” you presented your most signature, lingering, awkward thumbs-up. The redhead smiled back at you and took a seat at the table. She pulled out her phone and began sipping her coffee. A few moments later, she glanced up.

“Oh, I should’ve asked. Is this table taken, too?”

“Um, it was but they all left,” you felt stiff and anxious in her presence. Maybe she didn’t remember what happened yesterday, and she’s just trying to have a nice time with some new people. Maybe she was also decompressing after work just like you were.

“Bummer. Hey, you were reading a Norwegian-English dictionary yesterday, right?” Ding, ding, ding. She remembered. You felt a pit rise in your throat.

“Oh, uh… yeah that was me.”

“You ran away before I could talk to you about that,” she chuckled, but hid her smile as she sipped from her coffee again. Cute, you found yourself thinking. You quickly found yourself lost in her green eyes. She held your gaze with a very familiar sense of confidence. It was that familiarity that helped you lower your shoulders and unclench your jaw in her presence. She continued, “I was in the same boat as you whenever I moved here, so if you want any tips and tricks to learn it a bit faster, I’d love to help.”

You latched on to the subtle enthusiasm that graced her tongue when she said the word ‘love.’  You nodded in agreement a little quicker than you intended to. You must’ve looked like some obedient puppy the way you jumped on that opportunity. The redhead was firm in keeping her calm demeanor.

“Great,” she smiled brightly. Her face lit up, and you thought you saw a sparkle in her eyes. “How do you feel about meeting this Saturday in the morning? I might have some errands I need to run, but I can text you when I’m free.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be free.” You took a deep breath in and felt the clarity wash over you. “I guess I’ll be seeing you on Saturday, then, you.. uh…”

“Natasha.”  What a beautiful name, you thought to yourself.

“Natasha,” you repeated it just to hear it roll over your tongue. There was a pause. Two pauses. Your heart started racing even faster. She was still looking at you, and you forced yourself to keep eye contact as if you were scared to be rude by looking away. There was this unbelievable tension that started to build, but it wasn’t the good kind of tension. It was the kind that made you want to scratch your arms and beat your head into the wall. Natasha seemed unfazed, however. She was fine. You, however, weren’t fine, and you wanted to scream to break this silence. Did you say her name wrong? Did she catch on to the way you said it? Why wasn’t she saying anything? Why couldn’t you say anything?

“So…” Natasha broke the silence. “I’m going to need your number if I’m going to be texting you, y’know.” Ten seconds of silence between the both of you, and you spent it wondering if you had said something earth-shatteringly wrong. She just wanted your number. This was just a professional interaction between the both of you so she could share her recommendations on learning Norwegian. You, on the other hand, were making everything uncomfortable and awkward. You didn’t know why you felt this way, but you knew there was some blatantly different feeling that you felt towards her that was unrelated to the previous encounter the day before.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you found yourself laughing over your own confused way of thinking. Natasha held her phone out for you to put your contact information into. She was smiling amusedly. You were glad that she could keep her confidence even when you froze from overthinking. You gave her your number, and decided then and there that you should probably call it for the night. “I’m sorry to be leaving so soon, but I’ve already been here a few hours and I should probably get home to start getting ready for work tomorrow.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you and having an actual conversation with you…”

“Y/n,” you had forgotten to properly introduce yourself when she gave her name.

“Y/n.” Natasha looked saddened that you weren’t staying long, but she was respectful towards your boundaries. “I’ll be texting you.” Her tone changed a bit when she said that last part. You didn’t want to analyze the way she said it the way you overanalyzed everything else she said, but you couldn’t help but feel that she was intentionally being flirty towards you.

You left the coffee shop feeling some weird feeling in your chest. You didn’t want to put any labels to it just yet. You had just met the woman, so putting labels to a new name felt rushed. You just wanted to feel it. You wanted to feel it so badly as you took the bus home.

You wanted to feel her it so badly when you walked through your apartment door and threw yourself onto your mattress. You quickly threw down your pants and recovered your memory of the way her red hair framed her face and complemented those stunning green eyes. You felt every part of her accent rolling off her tongue, pushing her words deep inside of you. Your entire body pulsated and throbbed with her flirtatious invitation. Sure, you wanted this to remain a professional encounter for this weekend, but you wanted this other side of her, too.

You produced naked scenes of her in your head from whatever silhouette you gathered of her from earlier this evening. Her clothes framed her body so well, and you wanted to believe desperately that, even though the two of you just properly met, she dressed with her body in mind for you. It was a selfish thought, but you were doing selfish things to your body in the name of her. You felt yourself slip her name from your throat as an orgasm erupted from your body.

Once you came, you felt a twinge of guilt settle into you. You felt wrong for how you were feeling, but nonetheless you wanted this new woman, Natasha, to be in your life in more ways than one. You pondered over the thought of her (clothed) as you lay awake, tucked underneath your blankets. This was a newfound interest, and you were really excited for your next interaction with her this weekend.

#IM SO TIRED OF STUDYING FOR PHYSICS #marvel wlw #slow burn #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #nat x reader #wlw fanfic

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: Of all the many languages you speak which is your weakest one? Do you use those languages?

It’s privilege to learn any language that isn’t your mother tongue. As Ludwig Wittgenstein correctly observed, “The limits of my language means the limits of my world”. If English is our native tongue we put ourselves at a disadvantage because we expect every other nationality to take the trouble to speak it. There seems no incentive to learn a foreign language. We become lazy not just in language but also in other ways including our cultural enrichment, our imagination, and a misplaced sense of our self-importance in the world.

Of the European languages I know, I probably think German would be my weakest. When I was in school in Switzerland you’re brought up in three languages: French, Italian, and German (even if the Swiss speak Swiss German). When I say weakest I mean I can converse fluently, but I don’t have time to read German literature in the same immersive way I would say with French literature or take any special interest in German affairs.

I would say I’m fairly fluent in French now but still prone to silly mistakes. I’ve been told that I can speak without an accent and that is heart warming to know, because that was always the goal once I moved here to France. I don’t really use French in my work as it’s a multi-national entity and so English is the default language of corporate world, but I’m speaking French pretty much the rest of the time outside of work.

I was extremely fortunate to be born into a multi-lingual family where Norwegian and English were spoken from birth. All my siblings were being versed in Latin (not Greek which came years later after doing Classics at university) by the time I was 8 or 9 years old because my father was a classicist and he felt Latin was the building blocks to mastering other languages.

All this occurring whilst we moved lived and moved around a lot in the world such as China, Japan, India, and the Middle East. When I was initially sent to one of the first of my English girls boarding schools I was horrified that most of the girls only spoke English. I thought I was the stupid one for only knowing 6. Boarding school, if nothing else, gave me a great privilege to hone in on the languages I did know and start to learn others.

My parents didn’t take the easy way out and put us children in international schools like all the other expat children. That would have been too easy given how tight knit the British expatriate community was out there. Instead we were left to sink or swim in local schools in places like Tokyo and Kyoto in Japan or Shanghai in China or in Delhi, India. It was a struggle but you soon find your feet and you stumble towards some basic level of fluency.

I’m fortunate that before Covid my corporate work took me often to the Far East and it was a great opportunity to hone what I already knew. The result is I can converse and take business meetings in Chinese and Japanese (though English gets thrown into the mix too).

I would say Chinese is more of a struggle for me these days because I’ve not been back since before the Covid lockdown in 2020. Chinese is one of those languages that can easily melt away if you don’t get the chance to converse in it on a regular basis. Japanese less so, probably because the culture had more profound impact on me than Chinese culture.

Hindi is less of an issue because I have close Indian friends and also I watch Bollywood movies as well as converse with Indian immigrants here in Paris who have local stores. Urdu I learned through the backdoor because Urdu has a spoken affinity with Hindi (if you know Hindi then you know spoken Urdu, more or less, especially in Northern India and cities like Delhi where Urdu was born in the burnt ashes of Mughal India). Reading is another matter because they each use different scripts - Sanskrit for Hindi and Arabic and Persian script for Urdu.

Strangely enough when I was doing my tour in Afghanistan years ago with the British army, I would speak Urdu with local Afghans who served as official translators or were selling goods on the base. These Afghans knew Urdu because an entire generation of Afghan boys and girls grew up in refugee camps on the Pakistani border during the different phases of the Afghan war. I have very fond memories of their friendship and hospitality, but less so of the war itself. 

With Arabic, it had lapsed woefully until I did a posting in Dubai in the past year (as catalogued in my blog) and I found myself suddenly remembering a lot and asking Arab friends. Soon I was able to hold my own amongst my colleagues and corporate clients. In these cultures it’s really hard to stay focused because so many of them speak very good English. So it’s hard to get them to stick with their own language because you want to learn from them - but they want to show off their English proficiency - and so you have to be polite but persistent to stick with Arabic.  

If you’re learning a new language then I hope you stick with it. There’s almost nothing more rewarding in your life than the disocovery a rich culture through language. The key is to find a way to make it fun rather than a trip to the dentist chair for a root canal operation.

Thanks for your question.

#ask #question #languages #german #chinese #hindi #arabic #immersion #learning #education

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #81: Harry Potter, but make it Aberforth's Daughter

Having been told that choosing to be a muggle in the Wizarding World is "not getting into the spirit of things", I set about determining under what circumstances I could bear to live in the British Wizarding World. This is what I came up with.

Or: What if the SI were to replace Aberforth Dumbledore's OC daughter?

Some context:

First, we're leaning heavily on book canon while dipping our toes into Hogwarts Legacy as far as the extended magical communities in the Scottish Highlands are concerned. This means no Fantastic Beasts movies, no Credence Barebone, but the Hogwarts Legacy map and the implication the Wizarding World is bigger than just a school and alley - and actually magical.

Secondly, the OC wakes up with memories of her past life as the SI on her fifth birthday. This is less of a true SI than a modern woman in the British Wizarding World, with the middle-aged SI being a critical HP fan with an engineering background.

Thirdly, the SI takes the place of an OC - Aberforth's daughter, Aishwarya Devi, born in early 1979 as a result of fling with an Anglo-Indian astrophysicist by the name of Sandhya Devi who moved to the UK as a young adult. Although Aishwarya - Ash - is never unaware of who her father is, her parents agreed before she was born that Sandhya raises Aishwarya by herself for a variety of reasons that are part wartime paranoia, part not wanting to burden a child with the expectations of the Dumbledore name, and part Aberforth really not being cut out to be a husband or father. Assume she existed in canon, was sent to school in her mother's native India, and never made it into the pages of the books.

Just imagine it:

Ash grows up in the town of Brocburrow in the Hogsmede Valley. She is a quiet but inquisitive child - two traits that only grow more pronounced after she remembers he past life as the SI.

It becomes painfully clear early on that there is nothing she can do to prevent the Second Wizarding War from her position as an untrained underage witch, so Ash concentrates on learning everything she can so as to survive it, soaking up everything her mother can teach her - Wizarding and muggle astronomy, plus more runes and arithmancy than most ever learn in Hogwarts - and reading everything she can about this new world she has unfortunately found herself a part of.

The more she learns, the less impressed with the British Wizarding World Ash becomes. Too much power is concentrated in the hands of too few, with most wizards willing to blindly follow the most magically powerful among them because of a lingering belief that the magically powerful are magically powerful because they are deserving of it. (Think of the similar medieval concept re: nobles and their presumed nobility.)

Aberforth has little role in her childhood. If Ash had really been a child, it would have been easy to mistake his distance for lack of care, but having once been a semi-functional adult it's easier to see that Aberforth simply has no idea how to interact with children. He tries for her sake and Ash can't help but love him for it, even as he fails miserably.

Although Sandhya initially wishes her daughter to attend her alma mater back in India, Ash manages to convince her to let her attend Hogwarts in the fall of 1990, one year before Harry Potter is set to start his schooling.

To no one's surprise, she ends up sorted into Ravenclaw - and wielding an acacia and huma feather wand. ("A kingmaker's wand," Ollivander says.)

First year it's her intention to keep her head down and avoid attracting the notice of her uncle. Ash succeeds in this, coming across as just another academically gifted Ravenclaw, albeit one who makes a bit of a name for herself complaining that the muggles know such much more about outer space than we do. And math. Calculus was invented before the Statute of Secrecy, you know.

She also manages to strike up a surprising friendship with fourth year Percy Weasley - their usual tables in the library are next to each other and so they form a quiet academic acquaintanceship that evolves almost without them realizing it into true friendship. As least half of this is based Percy once telling his brothers off for a prank that borders more on bullying than humor, and the rest on Ash being just that advanced in astronomy and arithmancy.

Second year Ash is determined to stay out of the sorcerer's stone debacle - but also sets out to cultivate a friendship with Harry Potter, initially because it's the only way she can think of to get him away from the Dursleys (as any sensible adult should have done the first time he crossed their path) and out from under her uncle's thumb, but later because he is genuinely a sweet kid who soaks up all the affection he's given and returns it threefold. She does this by inviting him to celebrate Diwali with her and the other Hindi students - which opens up a can of worms regarding Harry's hereto unknown desi background - and establishes herself (and through her, Percy) a trustworthy older student Harry can rely upon.

This works out better than she can possibly dream when Harry takes his fears regarding the stone to Percy, who then presents them to McGonagall in a way that leads her to stake out the third floor corridor in her animagus form, catch Quirell in the act, and watch him die when Voldy deserts him.

Third year starts fairly close to CoS, but after the first petrifaction - about which the Headmaster does nothing save almost seem to encourage the rumors about Harry being the Heir of Slytherin - Ash decides to use her first Hogsmede weekend to act. She goes to the Hog's Head, tells her father exactly what is happening in the school, and watches as Aberforth's face turns into a storm cloud.

She has no idea what Aberforth actually does - only that the next morning the Headmaster announces the school will be closed until the person behind the petrifications is caught. She spends a week at home before the school reopens and though there are rumors the Aurors found a basilisk in the school, not a word of explanation is ever given to the students.

Ash's third year continues without further incident - except now she is on the Headmaster's radar. Albus had been kept carefully unaware of his brother's child, but now that he knows of her existence, he's eager to fit Ash into his Greater Good. Ash rebuffs him, but it's hard to be sure if even that isn't part of his plans.

Fourth year follows PoA fairly closely, though it's Ash's house Harry runs away to following events with Marge. Sandhya is more than happy to take her daughter's friend in, but the more she learns about Harry's home life, the more concerned she grows, and starts the ball rolling in the muggle world to have the situation investigated. This plays out quietly in the background while the school year otherwise follows canon - up to and including Wormtail's escape at the end of the year.

The summer before fifth year starts with both Harry and Dudley being removed from the Dursley home. Harry gets to stay with Ash and Sandhya while the Wizarding World fights over who gets to become Harry's legal guardian. They never get to decide - Harry is legally emancipated when he's forced to take part in the tournament - but the whole situation shines a bright light on everything that has been going on at Hogwarts the last few years. Dumbledore comes out of the situation with his titles intact, but his reputation in tatters - particularly after he claims Voldemort's return, which many think is a way to try to regain his former prestige.

Sixth year - OotP - is where things really start to change.

Despite his emancipation, Harry continues to live with Ash and Sandhya - Ash having very much taken up the mantle of protective older sister at this point.

With Dumbledore's political power already on a downward arc, it makes no sense to send Umbridge to Hogwarts. So Percy Weasley is the new DADA instructor instead. This makes a certain amount of sense, as Percy's frantic work keeping Crouch Sr.'s department running even while he was imperiused/ill/dead meant that things actually ran smoother. Fudge sees Weasley as a potential rival to be cut off at the knees... and one of the few Hogwarts graduates in his employ with an O in DADA.

This is awkward for a number of reasons, not least because despite having remained friends throughout Hogwarts, after running into each other at the Yule Ball (Ash was Harry's date) they're in that awkward stage of waiting for Ash to be older before investigating the attraction between them.

Sixth year goes well, with Percy setting out to teach not torture, and doing just enough to keep the ministry off his back - there are some parts of Hogwarts that need to be investigated, i.e. security and the reduced class offering - as well as doing just enough for his fellow professors to think he's a ministry toadie - Flitwick and McGonagall are not convinced by his act, but others are. There's still an incident at the DoM at the end of the year, but Harry is able to tell the relevant adults so that it's they who spring Voldy's trap, not half-trained children.

Ash's seventh year - HBP - goes by similarly smoothly. The major change here is that 1) Harry repeats everything he learns from Dumbledore to Ash, whose takeaways from the memories are far more critical of her uncle, and 2) Ash and Percy begin dating, but so little changes between them that only those they've explicitly told notice.

With the Wizarding World at war, it's a bit of a culture shock when Ash begins muggle university the next year, majoring in astrophysics. Her flat near the college serves as a well-warded base for Harry and co to hunt for horcruxes after Grimmauld Place is lost. She fights in the Battle of Hogwarts, and though she'd intended to save as many as she could, it's still a surprise when she manages to save Fred Weasley from his canon fate.

Afterwards, Ash goes on to gain a doctorate in astrophysics in the muggle world and work on integrating muggle discoveries with Wizarding knowledge, as her mother had done for the past several decades. Her friendship with Harry means that her work is put in a greater spotlight, and when Professor Sinistra finally retires Ash is the one asked to replace her. Sometime between all this she and Percy marry - much to the surprise of the other Weasleys - and have a single child just old enough to start Hogwarts when Ash begins teaching.

Harry himself takes a more political role in this world, having come to the conclusion very early on that oppression and ignorance help no one, and that it's the Wizarding World's belief that might makes right that got them all into this situation in the first place. He's Head of the DMLE for several years before being elected Minister for a maximum three terms. His administration is marked by efforts to shift Ministry hiring practices from nepotism to merit, as well as make laws apply legally to people of all magical backgrounds. He's not entirely successful, but it's a vast improvement.

Bonuses include: 1) Albus Dumbledore not evil so much as misguided - he honestly, genuinely thinks that he knows what's best for everyone. Maybe he even does. He's simply forgotten that people are not pawns and just because you want what you think is best for them doesn't mean that they want it, or that it is what is personally best for them. All of this should be brought up when he tries to pull Ash into his web; 2) An institutional problem with bullying in Hogwarts. All houses have villains and victims, but Gryffindor has more than its fair share of the latter, compounded by Dumbledore's nepotism and McGonagall being too busy to breathe most days. This eventually comes to a head during GoF, when Ash ties a charm into the school wards that writes the word Bully across the perpetrator's face when they violate standards borrowed from a muggle secondary school's guidebook; 3) Aberforth playing a greater role in Ash's life as she grows older, especially after she comes to him for help with his brother in CoS; and 4) Ash and Harry becoming siblings of choice. Ash never displaces any of Harry's friend group, but is there and willing to listen in a way no one in his life had been previously. And that changes everything.

And that is, surprisingly, more than I'd thought I'd have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

Other SIs: Aberforth's Daughter | Lysa Arryn | Petunia Evans | Princess of Dol Amroth

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #harry potter #self insert #aberforth dumbledore #female original character #desi harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #wizarding society #wizarding world #percy weasley #families of choice #found family #desi oc #hp #original character

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: 4th of July

The Great Shift a lot of countries differently. However, nothing could dampen the experience of Americans celebrating their Independence Day! Whether they are born and raised in the USA or a first generation trying their hand at the land of the free, the American spirit persist even in the strangest of scenarios.

Mario (Long Island, New York)

I can’t fucking believe it! All my life I’d dreamed of stepping up to the plate and playing ball! My old man said I was too much of a fat ass to do much more than work for the family when I got older. Something about having more cannolis than brains! But look who is laughing now! I guess I should start over. My names Mario Anatolli. Born in Long Island just off the coast of New York for you out of towners, 19 years ago. My family has been here for a long time, and sorta got into organized crime real early. Most guys in my family end up working for some shithead or dead, but not me. I had bigger dreams. Traveling places, meeting people, and most of all baseball! I memorized player stats, trivia, and dreamed of playing in Yankee Stadium one day. Then out of no where the Great Shift happened.

I ended up swapping bodies with this guy out in Miami during Spring Training! He was on the Miami Dolphins or I guess I am now. Turns out a bunch of nobodies who don’t know how to play baseball kind of ruin a team. Except me! I was the most knowledgeable guy on the team with one hell of a body! I’m about 5 inches taller with abs now! Not to mention handsome as hell! I’ve got guys and girls lining up for my autograph and my number! I’ll be doing a homecoming to Yankee Stadium soon, hopefully have time to catch up with the folks! I hear dad’s now in some accountants body being bullied by mom who is this handsome bouncer now. Times sure are changing! Hope they’re proud of the man their boy became!

Do-yun (Los Angeles, California)

I have to admit. I wasn’t used to swimming before the Great Shift and now I can’t get enough of it. As a first generation Korean immigrant to the states, I have to say it was hard settling down into such a new environment. Not a lot of places to go where people looked like me, bits of open discrimination because of my basic behavior, and even outward hostility at times. But I made the best of what I could. I even founded a Korean American community center that helped teach people English! That’s where I met my wife and we were lucky to have two beautiful boys. My wife works as a nurse at the nearby hospital and my youngest just graduated high school about to attend Stanford! While my oldest was studying art abroad in Paris!

Then the great shift happened. Going from a father in his 40s to a 22 year old fitness influencer was another huge adjustment to say the least. Only this time all the changes were a lot easier this time around. People wanted my attention a lot more for pictures and asked if I could be in their Tik Toks. I’ve always been good at adapting so now I’m embracing my new social media life! My sons have shifted to guys closer to my own age and so has my wife! To our surprise we ended up in Los Angeles, where we are now living in what  a lot of people are calling an Influencer House. I’m still picking up on the lingo for this younger generation. We’ve got a more interesting family dynamic for sure, but our family will learn to live with these changes and come out stronger together! Not to mention my wife is a lot more... active in her new male fitness vlogger form. I love this country. 

Dakota - Cedar Rapids, Iowa

It’s so wild being this tall! I’ve always been a bit small, growing up in the less developed and more rural areas around Iowa. My family like to move around a lot as my dad worked some odd jobs here and there between some seasonal labor stuff, but he always managed to put food on the table. We come from a mixed background! My dad is Caucasian and Black, while my mom is part Native American and Mexican! My brothers and sisters all kinda look different with me as the youngest, being the smallest. I guess that’s what inspired me to work the way I did. Tried to make my way through college studying agriculture and managed to buy a small farm that I used to grow up near. I was really starting to make some good progress when the Great Shift happened.

I found myself in such a huge body! I’m 6′9 now! Apparently this Austrian bodybuilder is pretty big online, no pun intended! My new name was Ike and I couldn’t help but admire my massive frame as soon as I realized I wasn’t dreaming. Everything from my long strong arms to my powerful sturdy legs were just so enticing! Even my huge size 17 feet were just the absolute best! Anyway I digress. Turns out modeling, acting, and sponsorships are a good way to fund a farm and pay off your student debts! So I’ve been running multiple small gigs trying to capitalize off my good looks to save up for a good cause!

Luke - Ann Arbor, Michigan

I was an older soul, pulled out of retirement during The Great Shift. Former Army Medic, who thought his best days were behind me when the world began to spin and I found myself in this handsome young man. To go from an ailing man in your 70s to a fit male model of a man in his 30s is such a rush. Many thing don’t work like you expect them to at my age and now everything about my body felt... sensitive. Not to mention becoming a whole nother race is an experience in itself.

Unfortunately I didn’t have time to confront my personal surprise or shock. I realized I had been taken to a hospital in the midst of a world wide body swap. Countless people were coming in for days with injuries and illnesses that I hadn’t been trained on in years. But I did what I could. There was a severe lack of medical professionals in the area and I was people’s best bet at survival! I managed to reset dislocated shoulders, put broken arms in casts, and learned to do invasive surgery in a few days!

My most important job though was telling people about their new medical history and keeping them informed. A surprising amount of men in men’s body knew very little about healthcare outside of their immediate body. Teaching people about their new allergies, physical limitations, and even some who now could get pregnant or required abortions, all of it was a learning experience for me as much as them sometimes. I’m happy to be in good health right now and I’m lucky to be able to share what I know with the people who need it. I hope everyone has a safe Independence Day today! Cherish the body you’re in and use it well!

#thegreatshift #body swap #race change #racial change #4th of July

[audioletter]

Fluffbruary #9: Reading Together (Elizabeth & Teyla | John & Rodney, SGA)

The list of prompts is here.

A twofer of vignettes, daily life on Atlantis. Both are shippy if you squint, up to you!

-

Elizabeth puts her head in her hands, sighing deeply. "This seems impossible."

Teyla smiled, leaning forward to place a hand on her arm. "You've just begun and you've come so far. One more time, I'll read first, then you."

When Elizabeth had approached Teyla about learning the native Athosian language, she admits she felt cocky - a born polyglot, she found languages easy, devouring them and picking them up as easy as reading a novel. But Athosian - a whole new alphabet, words Teyla even struggled to translate and a whole history to learn was nothing but intimidating.

It was important, though, to continue fostering good relations between Atlantis and the Athosian people, so she takes a deep breath and signals Teyla to start.

The language is beautiful, rolling of Teyla's tongue with ease; Elizabeth focuses on the way her mouth moves, moving over the syllables and diphthongs smoothly. She finishes, smiling encouragingly. "Your turn."

A sigh, and Elizabeth picks up the paper Teyla had written a children's folk tale on, stumbling on the first few words but suddenly finding the language starting to make sense in her mouth. Less like marbles and more like she was getting it, and Teyla tells her to repeat again once Elizabeth finishes.

Teyla's patience is fascinating - Elizabeth knew she was probably used to education and teaching those amongst her people, and her appreciation to Teyla taking the time to teach her her culture knew no bounds. She begins the story again - the words taking affect and locking into her brain, the strange symbols of the Athosian alphabet becoming clear and distinguishable. I'm getting it, a swell of pride, and Elizabeth begins the story again, her voice clearer and sounding authentic with Teyla's gentle notes on pronunciation.

"You are doing very well, Elizabeth," Teyla says, taking the paper and replacing it with another. "Soon you will be fluent and my people will feel comfort in you speaking the language of our people."

"I feel like a child again."

"Learning is a path, and you have started down it. More importantly, you are doing something for yourself and the Athosians - I admire you."

Elizabeth laughed. "You speak many languages, too. I just don't understand why this one is harder than most I have encountered."

Teyla reached over and pressed her hand to Elizabeth's heart. Her hand was warm, and Elizabeth felt her face colour red. "Yours is an open heart, and that will guide you through to fluency." A small smile, and Elizabeth smiles back, always surprised at the gentle honesty of such an experienced warrior and leader. "Now, a new text, a new history. I'll read, then you follow."

Elizabeth nodded, listening to Teyla's lyrical voice speaking the truths of the Athosian people and feeling content in her choice.

—

"I'm reading, Rodney."

"War and Peace, yeah, yeah."

"Why are you here, anyway? Don't you have -" John waved a hand, holding the tome in the other. "Papers to write or tech to dissect?"

"I don't particularly think you dissect Ancient technology, but nice try. And unlike some, my paperwork is up to date." Rodney fidgets a bit and sits in the chair across from John's bed. "I'm bored, okay."

"And I'm reading, so either be quiet or leave."

Rodney looked around John's fairly bare room until he zeroed in on a copy of Golf Digest. He marched over to the desk, picked it up and marched back to the chair, slamming himself down in such a way it made John wince. "Golf Digest! This has got to be interesting!"

John nodded indulgently, rolling his eyes, and went back to swimming through Tolstoy's impossible prose.

Of course, Rodney had to narrate the entirety of a magazine, much to John's chagrin.

"Do you actually get anything from this magazine, or is it just a prop for rich preppy boys?"

"I'm not a preppy boy, firstly, and yes, I do get a lot out of it which is why I read it, Rodney."

Rodney snorted. "Huh. So it's like a home shopping catalogue with pretend articles? 'How to improve your swing'? That seems like something you'd go to a teacher in real life as apposed to reading about in a magazine."

John reached over and snatched the magazine from Rodney's hands, causing a loud "hey!" and an unbecoming pout in response. "Out."

"I'm bored, come on, give it back, I'll be quiet!"

"OUT. Go bother Zelenka, he's no doubt got something for you to do."

"Fine, whatever." Rodney stood and sighed loudly, dramatically. "I know when I'm not wanted."

John shifted on his bed, not looking up from his book. "See you in the Mess later."

"I - yes, I suppose I will."

"Bye."

"Bye," and Rodney hesitated at the doorway. "I didn't mean to bother you." There's a strange tone to his voice that makes John look up, brow furrowed.

"Hey, Rodney, I'm - I don't get a lot of downtime and I just -" John groaned, putting War and Peace in his lap. "You can stay, just be quiet, okay?"

Almost gleefully, Rodney bounced back to the chair across from John and snatched Golf Digest back. "I promise you I will not regale you with details of the newest golf clubs until you say I can."

John settled back on his bed, nodded, and smiled slightly to himself as Rodney flicked open the magazine, a determined look on his face. This could work, and John began the arduous Tolstoy task in companionable silence.

#fluffbruary #stargate atlantis #mcshep #elizabeth weir #teyla emmagan #is it shippy? idk but it's just nice fluff #i like this prompt #teylabeth

[yanderefairyangel]

Maybe it's just me but I noticed that people who tended to like 3H were sometimes trying to find some of the topic it dealt with in Engage thinking it's the only way a story can be deep rather then focusing on the topic Engage does tackle and try to see the full depth of it.

I think the example I think of is the banditry in Engage. People assume the bandits are doing it because of economic struggles inherent to society because it's how it was tackled in 3H rather then going by what the text says about it, that's to say that banditry in Firene is implied to be born because of the laxism of the governement created cause by the over-pacificist side of Firene (dialogue of post battle in chapter 6) rather then by economical struggles, which story wise make more sense as Firene is presented as a country who is the complete opposite of one that would favorise the birth of banditry due to poverty. We do know however it's a country whose military aid is more defensive then offensive, that it doesn't have guard border to protect it and that the banditry activity mainly takes place at the border of Firene/Brodia. The support and the main story and Anna's paralogue dealing with banditry made it rather clear that each time, those bandits were operating near the border or Firene and attacking merchants, the one exception being Teranada who slaughtered an entire village near that border. In the original version of her A support with Alear, Céline never mentionned the nationality of the thieves she excuted. Teranda possibly comes from Brodia whose economical struggle due to war are actually knonw, as for Mitan... well, we don't really know either but seeing how Anna from from Elusia, she could be from somewhere else too and decided to settle near the Brodia/Firene border to do her mischief, taking the ruins as a base. After all, even if a character comes from another country, he can still beneficiate from the nationality. Take Mauvier for example. He is a Firenese native yet his name is based on a color, like all the member of the Gradlon faction. He also wear the priest clothing of Lythos, which all people linked to Gradlon such as Zelestia, Veyle and Nel. Rafal wears the Brodian outfit. So even if she came from another place, Mittan could still wear the Firenese color and theme simply because she moved to live there. Teranda however, we know settled in the montain only for a moment since it's rather recently he killed all the villagers. So it makes more sense for them to be bandits who took advantage of the weakness of Firene's defense and their laxist approach to the matter then it being poverty or economical hardship... since we never learn if there is any economical hardship to begin with.

But rather then going in this direction, people will try to bring Fodlan as a proof they are right and then will complain that Engage isn't following the direction that it never even tried to grasp to begin with but hum. My personal take on fiction when it comes to politics is that if a setting is fictional, then it's the rule of this setting that should be applied, independtly of irl events and the rules for other settings. In 3H, banditry is said to be caused by financial struggle, we notable see that in the war phase, as the merchant of the monastery reduced to banditry because of the poverty and misery war created upon civilian.

However, Firene doesn't at all fit the description. It's described as the wealthiest kingdom, called the Kingdom of Abundance. Its name pattern theme being fashion brands comes from that and they choosed spring as their season for crying out loud ! Spring. It's the season of wealth and peace. The symbolic is clear.

If a country doesn't fit the same economical situation/political situation/social situation as another this means the rules and stakes are different. You cannot judge Firene by using Fodlan, the rules established by 3H etc. You can only judge it by what the story says about this country, what it establishes etc.

It's a choice made by the writers. That's how it is. Take the writing as is and try to see how deep it can go from there rather then try to take a notion from another setting to apply it no matter what the actual text says about it and be disappointed it doesn't take things into account.

#fire emblem engage #fe engage #fire emblem #fire emblem 3 houses #fire emblem three houses

[van-yangyin]

Ryuuya Kitta 1 ~ Introducing my family (I really don't know what title to put here 😕) - IcarRyuu [Ryuuya's POV]

Hello everyone… I don't know how these things work so…. I'm Ryuuya Kitta, nice to meet you all. Today, I'll start by introducing you to my family, my daddy Ryuu (瑠), my papa Tatsu (健) and my mommy Mikoto (光言). Almost all the pictures I'll share around here are made by me, if the quality is bad, especially when I was little and used analog cameras (specifically polaroids), you can't complain, I didn't know nor know how to make it better…. And it's not that I can change their quality, because are already made… who knows is my boy friend Icaro. I will indicate who is the author of the photograph, in the ones that aren't made by me.

I'll start by introducing myself, I'm Kitta Ryuuya (吉田竜矢), you can call me Ryuuya, I would tell you to call me Ryuu but better not, otherwise you want my father to think you call him. Well, unless you don't meet him, if you don't meet him, then you can call me Ryuu. My best friend Icaro sometimes calls me Ryuu-chan, although that's what my parents also call me… Unless they get mad at me because then they call me by my last name and first name, like all parents do when they get mad, I guess. Although I'm sure it's not necessary to point out that your parents won't call you by my last name and my first name, but by yours?

It always happens the same to me, why I start writing about something as simple as my first and last name and at the end I end up talking about what my parents call me and how parents call their children when they scold them? I hope that doesn't bore you because it's something that happens to me quite often.

Oh, that's right… I'll mention it now so I don't forget later and place it somewhere that it doesn't look well integrated. When I take photos I usually put a warm filter afterwards, because the ones I take look like are lifeless. By the way in the second picture I tried to get my best smile, it's not something I'm very good at…. I just wanted to clarify it, in case you find it weird. Also, English isn't my native language, so please be patient with it, and if I've written something really wrong let me know! I really like to learn and improve day by day.

I was born in Suita, in Osaka prefecture, Japan (rightmost part of the Komorebi area), as you can see, above I've put a photo to familiarize you a little bit with the place… Or at least with the concept of the place…. (although it's actually a photo of my old house, taken by me at the age of 7 or 8 before I moved to another place, that's why it looks so busy). At the age of 6, when my mother died, after a couple of years passed, my parents officially declared to the world that they loved each other and were going to continue raising me as a family, they argued with my maternal and paternal grandparents and we moved to Kizugawa City, Kyoto Prefecture, Japan (Evergreen Harbor). From a family house we ended up in a small apartment. I guess at that time my parents wanted to forget about my mother as soon as possible…. There I started at a new school and did quite well, especially with the theoretical subjects and baseball.

Oh, yes, I forgot! Although I don't know if it's something that should go here…. Before I turned 6, at the age of 4, I was officially diagnosed with ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder), a somewhat late diagnosis because of the doctor who took my study. And the doctor said that it would personally make some aspects of my daily life difficult, but it seems that those words to my daddy Ryuu were taken very seriously because to this day he keeps trying to help me in everything he thinks I need help with and also papa Tatsu has also made a kind of alliance with him and they're so heavy handed with me that I think the best way to call them would be helicopter dads. The photo was taken by daddy Ryuu… and they were the ones who put me in those clothes… I know, totally boring clothes.

My favorite animal has always been the cat. I've always loved cats, especially black cats. In fact I've always gotten along very well with them and they've gotten along very well with me, I guess we're alike at some point. The picture was taken by Icaro on the spur of the moment, in case that's something you're wondering about. By the way, have you guys ever listened to the song by 「黒猫のタンゴ」(Kuroneko no tango)? I leave you the link here, listen to it if you want and let me know what you think. This song is inspired by the Italian song "Volevo un gatto nero", if you listen to the tone of this one here, you will see that it's the same, although the songs have nothing to do with each other. The Italian version talks about how the singer wants a black cat but is always given a white cat in exchange for what the others want, while the Japanese version the black cat symbolizes the runaway girlfriend of the singer.

On the other hand, my favorite topics and the ones you will always find me talking about are music and videogames. I love playing the piano, it's something I discovered when I went to school and saw a piano for the first time. On the other hand, video games stimulate me and when it comes to the ones I love, I can't stop speculating everything that happens around it and memorizing everything in it. By the way, the photo was taken also by Icaro, he said loves it when I play the piano, because I transport him to other worlds. Although I was a little worried because Icaro was listening to me.

I think I've already written too much about myself, and I can say more in other posts, so now I'm going to start with my father Ryuu.

This is daddy Ryuu, I took his picture recently. He's a writer and loves to write books for adults. Well, there you can see him at work. A long time ago he married my mom and they had me, when a few years passed my mom died, time passed and papa Tatsu confessed to daddy Ryuu. Daddy Ryuu told me what it's to be bisexual, that he told Papa Tatsu that had always liked both men and women, but that he never wanted to make a step forward, because he also loved Mom very much and didn't want to break the beautiful relationship and friendship that had formed between the three of them. My paternal and maternal grandparents never accepted this relationship, they told him that if he was homosexual why had he played a role by marrying mom and they didn't accept that a person could be able to like both men and women, I think they didn't understand as well as I did what it was to be bisexual, even though I was 9 years old. They believe that you can only like one thing or the other, so with me they have no problem, although they don't know that I've fallen in love with Icaro for who he is and not for being a man, but that's something I'll write about in another publication. My grandparents want me to visit whenever I can, but they don't want to know anything about my parents.

He's papa Tatsu, for as long as I can remember I've always called him papa, although technically at that time he wasn't romantically with either daddy Ryuu or mommy. No one ever denied it to me, not even he himself, so I got used to calling him that from a very young age. When I was little, I called him daddy Tatu, it was very difficult at that time for me to pronounce the character "つ" (tsu), although surely the first few times they heard me pronounce it they laughed at me.

Papa Tatsu works as a journalist. Some time ago he told me that when was studying journalism he worked in a bar part-time. There he met daddy Ryuu while writing books that he sent to publishers to try his luck. He confessed to me that from the day he met him it was love at first sight. I remember asking him why he didn't confess his love to daddy until long after mommy died and he told me it was because he was already engaged to mommy and never wanted to stand in the way.

He also told me that was the best man at his wedding and that mommy always knew that he was in love with daddy Ryuu. In fact, he told me that it was thanks to mommy, for her words of support before she died, that to this day he was formally my dad, because he had the courage to step forward and confess his love. The picture above is one that papa Tatsu and mommy took before I was born, I have permission to post it.

I've always wondered why I look more like papa Tatsu than daddy Ryuu, but they've never said anything to me, so I'd rather let it be.

This is my mother, Mikoto. She has long since left us and protects us from the stars, the sun and the moon. She worked as a medical scientist and developed and conducted experiments to test new drugs and medical devices, as well as studying the root causes of diseases and improving the effectiveness of treatments. Daddy Ryuu says that some people are very sensitive or don't want to read things that may remind them of sad moments in their life, so please if you're reading this, I'm now going to talk about something that happened to my mom and you may not like to read it. The picture I've posted above was of what my mom looked like when I was still very little, something I don't remember and that baby she's holding, is me. That picture wasnt taken by me, it was taken by papa Tatsu, so all rights go to him, he gave me permission to scan it and post it. The written part that comes now you can pass it and go to the end or until you see again this red color, I don't want to cause you bad memories or bad feelings, in fact for that reason is why I left it last.

My mom, Mikoto, died when I was 6 years old. I took that picture when I was little and it's one of my most precious objects. A year after I was born, mom talked to papa Tatsu, he was the first to know what she had. My mother had metastatic cancer, meaning the cancer was already far away from the area where it originated. The doctor told her that the chances of being cured were very low, and she was only given two or three more years to live. There were very remote possibilities of being cured, but the treatment with chemotherapy and pills would at least slow down its growth and reduce her symptoms. My mom was a fighter, she spent 5 years fighting to the end and for that I admire her very much. I was never told what kind of cancer she had, but I know my dad Ryuu and my dad Tatsu were always by her side and helped her in any way they could, plus I'm not very good in the medical field so I don't think would find what I'm looking for (actually I think the only thing I could do is go see the doctor who took her when when I have legal age and ask him) I know I said above that they moved to forget her, but specifically I meant to forget those bad memories that were left in that house. Surely they wanted to move out to treasure the good memories in the memories and videos we take with us.

I took the photo one afternoon when I found a dandelion on my way home. Since at that time my mom couldn't leave the house much anymore, I brought it to her and when we were both on the bed I told her to blow on it to make a wish. Mommy blew it and the dandelion seeds spread all over the room. She looked so beautiful that with my polaroid I took a picture of her (although it was actually with papa Tatsu's help, that's why the photo looks so good, I was 5 years old). I never knew what she asked for that day, and she never wanted to tell me either. By the way, mommy always liked to attach stickers on polaroid pictures, I think it's a habit I ended up picking up from her.

The last time I saw my mom she said, "Promise me that you will take good care of daddy Ryuu and papa Tatsu and that you will always, always, always be a fighter like mommy. This is for you, the bracelet that has accompanied me all my life. When I'm no longer in this world, I want you to know that the stars, the moon and the sun reflected in each pearl will be me watching over you from each one of them." And this photograph is of the bracelet mommy gave me, my bracelet, another of my most precious objects. I never mourned her death, no tears came from my eyes. I don't remember much about her either as I don't have an eidetic or photographic memory like Icaro, but I do remember the sound of her voice, I can always hear it in my mind, tone by tone. Oh, sure, there was a song my mom always sang to me that I remember how it sounded with her tone of voice perfectly my mind, it went like this:

"My little cat, my little cat, is always jumping. My little cat, my little cat, is always going on adventures. What will I do if my little cat gets lost in the grass? Wow, I found my little cat, he's right here!"

「あたしのこねこ、あたしのこねこ、いつもジャンプしている。 あたしのこねこ、あたしのこねこ、いつもぼうけんにでかけている。 もし、あたしのこねこがくさむらでまいごになったらどうしよう？ わぁ、あたしのこねこをみつけたよ！ここにいるよ。」

And right after that she tickled me. Sometimes she would change the lyrics to the song a little bit, depending on the day or the situation, but this was the version sang me the most. If you're wondering if you can find it on the internet the answer is no, because it was a song that mommy created especially for me. If someday I'm not so embarrassed I'll sing it and upload it for you to hear.

And this is the end of today's post. For the first one it has been quite long, hasn't it?

What would you like me to feature in my next post? Would you like me to write about who my best friend Icaro is and how I met him? My best friend Marena? Leave it in comments below.

See you in my next post, although I don't know when it will be yet as I'm learning to manage time and figure out how others work here.

#sims 4 story #sims 4 #oc: Ryuuya Kitta #oc: 吉田竜矢 #oc: Ryuu Kitta #oc: 吉田瑠 #oc: Tatsu Kitta #oc: 吉田健 #oc: Mikoto Kitta #oc: 吉田光言 #ocs: icarryu #I had a lot of fun doing this post #I had it since March half written #tw: mention of terminal illness #but it's written in red from the moment Ryuuya start talking about terminal illness so you can avoid it until you see another red line #tho you may miss important parts of Ryuuya's character #if you want to know them without mentioning anything about illness you can ask me #our sims #my sims #lea-heartscxiv #van-yangyin

[kat-simss]

[UNDER CONSTRUCTION - CAPTION COMING SOON 2 A TUMBLR DASHBOARD NEAR U]

With the Winter of 186x soon coming to a close, the settlement welcomed a new wagon train just in time for spring.

Caroline Chaires was freed by the end of the Civil War. Although her brother, Amos, had huge plans and longed to go west to make something of himself, leaving the past behind him, Caroline struggled to leave behind the place she considered to be her home: after all, it was all she had ever known, and she yearned to cling onto it as the end of the war put her life on an uncertain path. Finally, though, Amos won out, and Caroline and her brother joined a wagon train westward. Unfortunately, Amos grew ill halfway through the journey, and died of cholera a few months before their arrival in Minnesota, leaving his sister alone and stuck in a foreign place, far from her home, friends, and the parents she’d left behind.

(I just realized that I forgot to mention that Caroline is a slightly made-over version of @lilith-sims‘ Deja, so thanks to lilith for such a beautiful sim)!

Gustav Schwartz left Germany at the age of fourteen, stowing away on a ship to America in search of riches and opportunity. Despite the atrocious conditions in steerage, Gustav maintained his big heart and his relentless optimism. During the journey, he was even able to reconnect with Alexander Church, a native to St. Louis who had once worked alongside Gustav when he had first arrived in St. Louis and began to learn English. Alexander was the son of former slaves who had escaped during the war and fled to St. Louis, barely eking out a living as a railroad worker and doing odd jobs for neighbors. After several months of working together, Gustav’s relentless optimism and dreams of moving west inspired Alexander to join him on his journey. The two spent months traveling alongside one another after learning they had joined the same wagon train; Gustav gave Alexander a few tips on farming while Alexander filled in the gaps in his knowledge of English, and they soon became close friends. Now, each of them seeks to build a new life for themselves in the west of the “land of opportunity.”

Hürrem “Helen” Çağlayan was born and raised in Tétouan, Morocco, until the Spanish-Moroccan War (also called the Hispano-Moroccan War) quite literally showed up on her doorstep. The Battle of Tétouan left Hürrem to bury her father and brother, as both were killed in the fighting. However, a sympathetic Spanish soldier took a shine to her, taking her on as a servant (and, soon enough, as a wife), nicknaming her “Helen.” Without anything to keep her in Morocco, and with memories of her past haunting her at every turn, she agreed to return to Spain with her new husband, Antonio Casaviella.* Despite their rapid courtship and marriage, the two were passably happy together, and welcomed a daughter in the winter of 1861. During a visit to America to visit one of Antonio’s relatives who had immigrated there, the promise of gold and free land caught Antonio’s eye, and he urged his wife to join him. Reluctantly, Hürrem agreed, and prepared for an even longer journey after the month-long ocean voyage to the American coast. Unfortunately, both Antonio and Hürrem’s young daughter succumbed to the same outbreak of cholera that claimed the lives of several others during their journey, leaving Hürrem alone in a foreign land in which she barely spoke the language. However, it was far too late to turn back, and Antonio had sunk the last of their savings into the trip westward, leaving Hürrem both without a home to return to or the money to get there. However, she is determined to make the best of a horrific situation, grieving her husband and child while hoping to find a new, permanent place to finally call home.

*I meant to name him via a roster of Spanish soldiers who fought in Tétouan, but couldn’t find one (I could only find general news reports on the war and the battle rather than specific names, apart from this section on Wikipedia). I didn’t want to use a real name (i.e. one of the few names I could find via the list on Wikipedia) since that would feel a little weird, so I used Leopoldo O'Donnell (a Spanish general and the eventual Prime Minister of Spain)’s mother’s maternal last name (apologies if the terminology is wrong), Casaviella, and Antonio Ros de Olano, who fought in the Battle of Guad-el-Jelú, another divisive battle in the Hispano-Moroccan War. You can read more about each of them here, here (content warning: mention of brutality/torture of enslaved individuals) and here (unfortunately, I couldn’t find any other sources about Antonio in English, but there are some excellent sources listed under the Wikipedia article).

Inderjit “Ida” Kaur faced constant discrimination and eventual famine at the hands of the British during the first twenty years of her life in the Punjab region of India, and losing her mother and sister to famine in 1860 meant that she jumped at the chance to escape British persecution. She immigrated to the U.S. in late 1861. Although she had lived a somewhat-comfortable middle-class life prior, her savings had run dry by the time she reached America, throwing her headfirst into poverty. She toiled for months in a garment factory near the coast until one of her friends in the factory spread word of free land in the west. That land promised the independence she dreamed of, hopefully far away from the racism and Islamophobia which still ran rampant, and a hopefully-comfortable life through which she could gain back some of what she had lost.

James Reid is a name some of you might recognize, the son of former-slave-turned-wealthy-business-owner Matthew Reid, whose family looked after Lydia’s younger sister, Susanna Harrison, while Lydia joined the wagon train west to throw slave-catchers off her sister’s trail. After graduating from university, James Reid was sent with Susanna to ensure her safety on the journey to be reunited with her sister, but after reaching [still unnamed homestead town], he quickly got other ideas. Although he had grown up in the lap of luxury, “roughing it” a little in the Minnesotan forests didn’t seem too bad. Although his father was disappointed that he didn’t want to continue on the family business, he was relieved that Susanna and Lydia would have someone to look after them, as Matthew had grown rather fond of the girls and treated them like his own children.

#ts2 #the sims 2 #the sims 2 challenge #ts2 homestead challenge #the sims 2 homestead challenge #ts2 challenge #ts2 gameplay #hc #ts2 victorian #ts2 old west #simblr #sims #gaming #video gaming

[heroeslostintranslation]

Kate

“Wake up.”

Kate startled awake, frantically pulling the blanket away from her face. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I-I’ll move—”

The woman put a finger to her lips. “Quiet,” she said kindly. “I am a friend. My name is Impa.”

Kate gasped. “You speak Hylian!”

Impa chuckled. “I’m a Sheikah, of course I do.”

Kate was elated. “I haven’t been able to speak to anyone all day! Nobody else here speaks—well, at least not very well. It’s hard to understand them with the accent.”

“I’m sure.” Impa stood and held out her hand. “Come with me. There’s someone you should meet.”

Kate rubbed her eyes, considered her options, and accepted the offered hand.

Impa pulled her to her feet and lead her through the winding streets. Kate was too exhausted and hungry to keep track of where they were going. She was starting to get a headache.

She hoped that... he... was alright.

The smell of food caught her attention. She barely noticed that Impa was guiding her to a small table, didn’t even register that she’d been taken indoors.

“Thank you, Impa.”

Kate jumped in her seat. That was the voice of a man! Her head swiveled and she saw the Gerudo Chief—by the Three he was huge!—entering through a side door. Oh no...  If the rumors were true, then—!

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked, keeping his distance. “Impa tells me you haven’t eaten at all since you arrived this morning.”

Kate blinked. He spoke Hylian. He didn’t even have an accent. This Gerudo Chief spoke her language like a native!

He smiled, and she realized that in her half-asleep stupor, she’d said at least part of that out loud. “Hylian is my mother tongue,” he said. “Or, more accurately, my father tongue.” He motioned a servant into the room and they set a hearty—but not lavish—platter of food in front of her.

“Thank yo—er, sar...so?”

“Sarqso,” he corrected gently, his accent impeccable. He waved the servant away and motioned to the food. “Please.”

Kate was too tired and starving to resist on the grounds of politeness.

The Chief sat at another small table and took a slow swig out of large sapphire-studded goblet. He set the golden cup down and turned it a little. “What do you know about the young man who brought you here?”

Kate nearly choked on her food. “Wha—Nothing, why?” Did he know? Was he going to kill her? “I-I don’t know anything. I don’t even know his name.” Because he’d claimed to not have one. 

“Is he in trouble?” 

“I-I don’t know, why? I told you, I don’t know anything!” 

“How did you meet?” 

Kate moved to get up from her seat—this wasn’t safe at all! She needed to get out of here—but Impa held her in place. 

“Relax, Kate,” said Impa. “We mean neither you nor him any harm. Just the opposite, in fact.” 

Could she trust them? How did Impa know her name? 

The Chief’s face softened. “When I was about six years old,” he said, “my parents were killed by a bomb that was planted in our home. My mother served as the Oracle of Din in the Temple of the Golden Three.” 

Kate gasped. “Wait, the—the Oracle? The Oracle of Din, the—the one who was assassinated?” She had no memory of the event itself—she would have barely been born at the time—but she’d learned all about the tragedy while in school. “But—but they had two Hylian boys! Neither of them were Gerudo, or else—” 

“Or else the baby would have been brought here and made Chief immediately and been waited on hand and foot and grown into a spoiled tyrant, yes, my mother was very familiar with our customs.” He exhaled tiredly. “From the day I was born she dyed my hair so no one would know what I was. I didn’t even know what I was until Impa found me.”

“You mean when you found me,” Impa corrected. “You sought sanctuary at the temple of Hylia where I served as an attendant.”

“And you dragged me out of that temple, through a maze of back alleyways, and into the desert. You saved my life and brought me here.” He took a deep breath. “Kate,” he said, and again she wondered how they knew her name, “I—” He coughed, hazel eyes beginning to glisten. “I have long believed that my baby brother also, somehow, survived the bombing. I know it’s silly. I know it sounds like grief talking, but... I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that he’s alive. And based on what Impa’s told me, I believe that he may have been the one who brought you here today. So, I’ll ask you again: is he in trouble?”

Kate thought of the tiny, strapping young man who had entered her life so suddenly, turned it completely upside down, and left her in this strange place. One burning question consumed her sleep-deprived brain and leaped from her tongue: “What’s his name?”

The Chief’s eyes flicked to Impa, as if in question, then back to Kate’s. “He never told you?” 

Flustered, Kate tried to backpedal. “Maybe he did,” she shot back, “and I’m just testing you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen him since he was a baby. He could very well have been raised with a different name.”

“He wasn’t raised with any name!” she blurted. “I mean—” She huffed and slumped over. Her and her big mouth. “That’s what he told me,” she mumbled, “that he, ‘didn’t deserve a name’—”

The Chief jumped to his feet. “What?”

“That’s what he told me! He said someone sent him to assassinate me—I don’t know why, I’m just an ordinary girl, it’s not like I’m someone of importance—but he couldn’t go through with it and so the only way to save both our skins was to drag me all the way out here and ditch me!”

The Chief began to pace. “They know,” he muttered. “They must know who he is, that’s why they—”

“Who is he?” Kate cried.

The Chief stopped and stared at her, his face tense with panic. “His name is Link. And even as a baby, he could hear the music of the Oracles.”

Kate stared right back, stunned. Legends and myths and fairy tales ran through her head. “You mean, he’s...?”

The Chief nodded.

“Oh by Hylia, he’s... he’s a Hero. That explains everything!” She stood, swaying from the blood rush.

“Sit down and eat,” said Impa, pressing Kate back onto the chair. Impa held eye contact with the Chief. “The best thing either of you can do for him right now is take care of yourselves and get some sleep. My kin tell me that he’s safe; he met a traveler in the desert who’s been keeping him alive.”

“A traveler?” asked the Chief.

Impa’s eyes turned sharp. “I’ll brief you in the morning.”

The Chief grumbled at that, then looked at Kate. “Are you going to wait here, or would you rather—”

“I’m not going to wait here, are you nuts‽ Eh, sorry. I’m just—Yes, I want to go with you!”

The Chief smirked. “Left quite the impression, did he?”

Kate blushed and adjusted her hair.

He chuckled. “Very well, I’ll make sure we’re packed for two. Goodnight, Kate. And thank you.”

Kate razzed. “I haven’t done anything. And how do you guys know my name, anyway?”

“I saw you two at the city gate this morning,” said Impa.

“Oh. Right.” Kate picked at her plate. “Well, thank you for the food. And for letting me go with you.”

“You brought my baby brother to me, as if back from the dead,” said the Chief. “This is hardly adequate to repay such a debt.”

Kate threw her hands in the air. “I didn’t do anything! He was the one who dragged me all the way out here!” She paused. “To try and save me.” She glanced up at him. “Anyway, thank you. Goodnight.” 

#heroes lost in translation #heroeslostintranslation #hlt #loz au #tloz au #loz groose #loz impa #I swear I'm still chipping away at this au #translating text fifty different ways is a pain #so have this for the time being #it's been sitting in my drafts for long enough #ugh

[danpuff-ao3]

HP Astro #7: James Potter I

Born: 27 March 1960. Place and time: my best guess.

Holy SMOKES, that fire, baby! 🔥 Aries Moon & Sun with Leo Rising??

In fairness, his birthdate gave him the double Aries. But is anyone going to argue that this man isn't a Leo Rising? I think not! You see: James Potter is the Main Character. Or so he thinks. (I think he'd still be pretty proud that the Main Character is actually his son.)

Born into privilege, not only of wealth and class, but also into a loving home. The long awaited for child to two older parents. An only child, at that. A pureblood. With an inheritance. Of course he thinks the world revolves around him! The world probably did revolve around him, for many years.

The ascendant is what people see, and how we react to our environment. Leo is bold, bombastic, proud, and playful. All the warmth and brightness of the sun drawing people in. And James was center stage. The star of the show. A king on his throne. It is the nobility and generosity of Leo that colored James' every move. But also: the great ego of Leo.

And with Leo Rising, that puts the Sun as the chart ruler. And James' sun is in Aries. The sun is the core of a person, and at his core, James is a natural leader, a warrior. He is direct, active, bold. James likes to take charge, and he likes a challenge.

The moon shares the same sign and house as the sun. The moon, his subconscious, is just the same: straightforward, uncomplicated. Independent, and impatient. More than that, the Sun and Moon are conjunct; within only 3 degrees of one another. A double whammy of Arien energy. James is decisive, and focused. His core self and his emotions are aligned. And it is all on fire.

A note that, Aries and Leo are both called the child in some respects. Aries is the first sign of the zodiac; the youngest sign. Leo is called the child for its playful, creative nature. Aries is spontaneous, a child wreaking havoc; Leo is charming, a dimple-cheeked angel with mud on his hands. Immature, and endearing, at once.

As children, we are growing into ourselves. Our core (the sun) is there, full of potential, not fully realized. James displayed the best and the worst of himself in his youth. Forever tousling his hair (side note: Leo Rising often signals natives with good hair), charming his peers and charming his professors. He was a Chaser on the Quidditch team; the Arien drive to action, and the Leo need to shine. He was a big ole kid. Mischievous, a troublemaker. The fiery call to adventure.

Life was a stage. Life was a game.

Both of the luminaries are in the Ninth House, as well as Mercury and Venus. The Ninth House covers spirituality, philosophy, travel. The Ninth House is a search for wisdom. Learning from the world around him. Learning from others. James had an eclectic group of friends, remember: rakish Sirius, studious Remus, puppy-like Peter. Friends of different backgrounds, and different interests. A draw to others, and expanding his horizons through them. Bettering himself (Sun, the self) through what they teach him (Ninth house.) Shaping his worldview by experiencing life.

The self (sun), his subconscious (moon), his communication and learning (Mercury), his hobbies and relationships (Venus) all planted in the house of higher learning and travel.

So let's look at the other inner planets, shall we?

Mercury and Venus both in dreamy, whimsical Pisces. James has an intuitive mind (Mercury) and a tender heart (Venus.) He has understanding and sympathy for others. A romantic, idealistic nature. The sense of a higher calling.

James picks things up quickly. His ability to learn (Mercury) likely aided by some spiritual drive and inner wisdom. What James knows comes more from within; a gut reaction, following his heart; from deep in his soul, rather than logical thought. Pair Aries impulsiveness with Pisces intuition and you have a person who doesn't often stop to think. James goes, because he knows in his bones what he's doing and where he's going.

Pisces Venus is also to thank for his obsessive love for Lily. Pisces is the Dreamer. Pisces is passionate, prone to addictions and obsessions. Pisces feels deeply, and connects easily with others. For James, it was love at first sight. When he knows, he knows, and with Lily he knew from the start. Pisces drove James to great passion, to obsession, to devotion; Leo made him loyal, stubborn, and flirtatious. James knew what he wanted, and he never once wavered. Pisces Venus tells of very sweet, and very deep, love.

Then, to round out the inner planets, we have Mars in Aquarius (progressive) in the Eighth House (transformation.) James values freedom greatly; freedom of the self (Aquarian independence) and freedom for others (Aquarian humanitarianism.) James is also rebellious: stubborn, and unique, and unwilling to be boxed in. He is driven by innovation, and by change, and by knowledge (Aquarius of the mental plane; Mars the planet of action.)

Mars covers sex and conflict. In the house of sex, the house of the taboo. The house of death. It is also the house of shared possessions; a drive to connect intimately with others, and to share with them. Mars in the Eighth speaks to great passion, and a high sex drive. The Aquarius flavor means he's best stimulated mentally; he's attracted to cleverness, witty banter, shows of intellect. His mind needs to be engaged to get his gears turning.

Best of all, James seems most driven by change. And James sees much growth in his short life. There is a need to improve (Aquarius) and transform (Eighth House); to become better. For himself, and for others.

So what do we know?

James was bright. He did well in school. Likely he had plenty of opportunities in his youth. He came from a wealthy background. His parents likely took great interest in his life. He went on to Hogwarts, well-prepared and well-adjusted. And he put all of his knowledge and skill into sniffing out Remus' secret, then dedicated himself to becoming an Animgus. He explored Hogwarts and helped build a map.

Uncovering secrets (Remus' furry problem, 8th House), taboo and philosophy (re: furry problem, 8th & 9th), travel (exploring the castle, 9th house), higher learning (Animagus, cartography; 9th house), death and transformation (8th House: the danger of werewolves, changing into a stag.)

The Eighth House of Secrets and the Ninth House of wisdom contained so much of James. And in those realms, James was the Warrior (Aries) King (Leo), and the Dreamer (Pisces.) James had so much damn potential.

This is also, I think, what drove him to bullying. At least in part.

Listen, I don't hate James, but...let's call a spade a spade, okay?

James Potter: star of the show. James Potter: great hero. The was sorted into Gryffindor, the House of the Brave. He saw himself as a hero. He had great ideals of honor, justice, loyalty. And he was a kid who had probably never experienced real hardship. Maybe he heard stories of great wizards and aimed to be one. And in his enthusiasm, in his impatience, in his impulsivity, and all the ignorance and naivety of youth, he turned into a monster. (8th House: death, taboo.)

Did he mean well? I think so. James wasn't sitting in a chair, rubbing his hands together, cackling evilly while plotting world domination. He was a dumb kid with too much confidence and too much power. He made new friends, he was in a new place, he wanted to impress. And he got carried away.

For the ignorant, what is different makes them afraid; and born of that fear is the belief that what is different is wrong. He saw another kid who was poor and awkward and rough around the edges. He saw an outcast. And an outcast is cast out for a reason, yes? That kid was hanging around a pretty girl, and then sorted into the Evil House. We can only imagine how long Slytherin had maintained its bad reputation. Coupled with the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry, if it existed in his time...

He saw Snape as an enemy. James made Snape an enemy before he could be proven any differently. Life is a game, remember? Life is a stage. And this was the great drama. James was the Hero; and every good Hero needs a Villain. He thrived on a challenge, and on attention. He thought he knew right from wrong. He saw the world as black and white. He attacked Snape, because that's what you do to monsters.

Then, James grew up.

But growing up and changing his ways doesn't change what harm he caused. What good he went on to do doesn't erase all of the bad he did. But he grew up, and he learned better, and he changed; which is more than can be said for a lot of people.

Remember: James has his values. Honor, justice, loyalty. Doing what is right. When Snape was in danger, James saved him. And when the war was in full swing, he joined the Order. And when Voldemort came, he told Lily to run, and he stood in Voldemort's path.

This was a kid who befriended a werewolf, who sneaked around the castle and studied really complicated magic for the sake of his friend. (Leo is loyal, Aries takes action.) He saw how awful Sirius' home life was, and took him in. He opened his home and his family to someone who needed it. He and his more popular, handsome friends took Peter under their wing. They saw something in him that was worthy. They could have scoffed at Peter, could have made a mockery of him, but they called him friend.

Not only that, he matured enough that a girl who once hated him fell in love with him.

There was good in James. The potential was there all along. Someone brave enough, and good enough, to stand up and fight. But the world was too black and white to James, I think. Sorted into good and evil. Too simplistic a worldview, in some ways. And I wonder if he ever realized the gravity of his actions. If the full horror of the trauma he inflicted on another person ever wracked him with guilt. Or if he moved on, and expected the world to move on with him. Did he think saving Snape's life cancelled out all the hell he caused? Was he too young when he died to have fully realized the impact he had?

Who would he have been, had he lived? A doting father, a devoted husband. A skilled wizard, likely still on a mission to save the world. A man with big dreams (Pisces) and drive (Aries.) A man child who laughs and plays with his friends. A goofy, embarrassing dad. Still so cocksure, and more settled in himself.

And whether he ever fully accepted in his heart how wrong he was in the past, I think some part of him would know. And he would make damn sure he raised his son better than that. Not spoiled, not arrogant, but kind and courageous. For Harry's sake, and for the sake of those around him.

I have a great love for questionable characters, and what's always drawn me to James is that...deep down, he has so much love and such great values, and seeing how skewed it all was. He thought he knew right from wrong, but he was wrong. He was a good man, who did bad things. And best of all, he tried to learn.

So many people in this world are too set in their ways. And once they set course, there is no turning back. And in this day and age, no transgression can be forgiven. So while some might hate James, in him I see great hope. That people can learn. That they can change. And maybe they don't have to be forgiven, but we can acknowledge they did the work to move forward.

#hp astro #james potter #astrology #focus on james' good AND bad sides so y'know #be prepared for that

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&reading: Friday, November 3, 2013

octobre 21_november 3

VENERABLE HILARION THE GREAT OF PALESTINE (371)

Saint Hilarion the Great was born to pagan parents in the year 291 in the Palestinian village of Thabatha near Gaza. As a young man, he was sent to Alexandria for his education. There he became acquainted with Christianity and was baptized. After hearing an account of the angelic life of Saint Anthony the Great (January 17), Hilarion went to meet him, desiring to study with him and learn what is pleasing to God. Hilarion soon returned to his native land to find that his parents had died. After distributing his family’s inheritance to the poor, Saint Hilarion went forth into the desert surrounding the city of Maium.

In the desert the Saint endured violent struggles with impure thoughts, vexations of the mind, and the burning passions of the flesh, but he defeated them through heavy labor, fasting and fervent prayer. The devil sought to frighten him with phantoms and apparitions. While he was praying Saint Hilarion would sometimes hear children crying, women wailing, and the roaring of lions and other wild beasts. He understood that the demons were causing these terrors in order to drive him out of the wilderness. He overcame his fear by resorting to fervent prayer. Once, some thieves fell upon Saint Hilarion, and he persuaded them to forsake their lawless life by the power of his words.

Soon all of Palestine heard about Saint Hilarion and of the miracles he worked. The Lord granted the holy ascetic the power to cast out unclean spirits. With this gift of grace he loosed the bonds of many of those who were afflicted. The sick came for healing, and the Saint cured them without asking for any payment, saying that the grace of God is freely received, and must be freely given (Matthew 10:8).

Such was the grace that he received from God that he could tell by the smell of someone’s body or clothing which passion was afflicting his soul. They came to Saint Hilarion desiring to save their souls under his guidance. With his blessing, monasteries began to spring up throughout Palestine. Going from one monastery to another, he instituted a strict ascetic manner of life.

About seven years before his death (+ 371-372) Saint Hilarion moved back to Cyprus, where the ascetic lived in a solitary place until the Lord summoned him to Himself.

Saint Hilarion is sometimes depicted holding a scroll which reads: "The tools of a monk are steadfastness, humility, and love according to God." In iconography, is depicted as an old man with a brown, rush-like beard divided into three points.

VENERABLE HILARION THE SCHEMAMONK OF THE KIEV CAVE (1067)

Saint Hilarion, Schemamonk of Kiev Caves, a strict ascetic, was a disciple and co-ascetic with Saint Theodosius (May 3). Imitating the example of his teacher, Saint Hilarion prayed to God with tears day and night, while observing a strict fast. His contemporaries knew him as a chronicler, who toiled over the copying of books in the cell of Saint Theodosius. During this time his teacher chanted Psalms and spun wool. Saint Hilarion lived an ascetic life during the eleventh century. His memory is also celebrated on August 28 and on the second Sunday of Great Lent.

Source: Orthodox Church in America (OCA)

COLOSSIANS 4:10-18

10 Aristarchus my fellow prisoner greets you, with Mark the cousin of Barnabas (about whom you received instructions: if he comes to you, welcome him), 11 and Jesus who is called Justus. These are my only fellow workers for the kingdom of God who are of the circumcision; they have proved to be a comfort to me. 12 Epaphras, who is one of you, a bondservant of Christ, greets you, always laboring fervently for you in prayers, that you may stand perfect and complete in all the will of God. 13 For I bear him witness that he has a great zeal for you, and those who are in Laodicea, and those in Hierapolis. 14 Luke the beloved physician and Demas greet you. 15 Greet the brethren who are in Laodicea, and Nymphas and the church that is in his house. 16 Now when this epistle is read among you, see that it is read also in the church of the Laodiceans, and that you likewise read the epistle from Laodicea. 17 And say to Archippus, "Take heed to the ministry which you have received in the Lord, that you may fulfill it." 18 This salutation by my own hand-Paul. Remember my chains. Grace be with you. Amen.

LUKE 10:1-15

1 After these things the Lord appointed seventy others also, and sent them two by two before His face into every city and place where He Himself was about to go. 2 Then He said to them, "The harvest truly is great, but the laborers are few; therefore pray the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into His harvest. 3 Go your way; behold, I send you out as lambs among wolves. 4 Carry neither money bag, knapsack, nor sandals; and greet no one along the road. 5 But whatever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this house.' 6 And if a son of peace is there, your peace will rest on it; if not, it will return to you. 7 And remain in the same house, eating and drinking such things as they give, for the laborer is worthy of his wages. Do not go from house to house. 8 Whatever city you enter, and they receive you, eat such things as are set before you. 9 And heal the sick there, and say to them, 'The kingdom of God has come near to you.' 10 But whatever city you enter, and they do not receive you, go out into its streets and say, 11 The very dust of your city which clings to us we wipe off against you. Nevertheless know this, that the kingdom of God has come near you.' 12 But I say to you that it will be more tolerable in that Day for Sodom than for that city. 13 Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works which were done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago, sitting in sackcloth and ashes. 14 But it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon at the judgment than for you. 15 And you, Capernaum, who are exalted to heaven, will be brought down to Hades

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #easternorthodoxchurch #originofchristianity #spirituality #holyscriptures #gospel #bible #wisdom #saints

[rosethornewrites]

The reblog about Native spirits reminded me of the times when I learned not to fuck with the paranormal. I’m at least somewhat sensitive, and I’ve learned to close off.

First: When I was 12-13 and at a church youth retreat for my Confirmation class (yeah, grew up Christian), for some reason someone brought out a Ouija board. At one point I was using it with our pastor (I don’t know how this happened), and a spirit told me she was my ancestor, gave her name, and said she was from Sweden. I disregarded this until a couple years ago when I was working on our family tree. My great-great grandfather’s wife shared her name, and was from Sweden. The pastor would have had no way of knowing this back in the early 90s.

Second: Same night, the girls who liked to bully me got me to use it with them. I saw an opportunity to play a prank, and I moved the planchette to tell them they would die getting hit by a car. The next day, they came to me pale and shaking, and asked if I’d moved the planchette. They’d gone to a gas station for snacks down the road and had nearly been hit by a car. I have no idea if it’s anything other than a correlation, but I would never touch a Oujia board ever again.

Third: In high school, a friend of mine who lived near a forest preserve noticed that all the deer came out of the forest reserve at night. You could walk right toward them and they would refuse to go back in. So we did what stupid kids do: we went into the forest. We were about 200 meters in when a weird ball of mist coalesced on the path about 50 meters ahead, then came toward us. We booked it.

Fourth: In college, on break, another friend and I decided we’d go to a place well known as a mob dumping ground because it was rumored to have ghosts. This was my last time fucking with the paranormal, because something followed me home. I was driving straight, and an air freshener I had wedged in the passenger side visor to keep the broken light switch off somehow became unwedged and flew across the car to hit me in the shoulder, hard. Again, as I was driving on a straight road. I was staying with another friend at the time, and her cats went nuts the moment I came home. She wound up reading the Bible aloud to get it to leave.

Fifth: After my dad died, he visited me in dreams, talking about things that had just happened. At one point, before the memorial, I heard his slippers shuffling in the hallway when I was half-asleep. Once he came to my dream all excited, but my alarm went off before he could talk to me. It turned out a player had been traded from my favorite baseball team to his, totally something he’d call to gloat about, so I knew why he’d come to my dream right away.

I learned to be closed off, and one of the last times I opened was when my mom took me to the location where my father passed away, to see if he was there. He wasn’t. He still sometimes visits me in dreams, but it’s pretty rare anymore.

When my grandmother died in 2019 to dementia, my mom and I were racing to the nursing home to be with her when she passed. We parked, and suddenly I had a feeling we were too late. Didn’t tell my mom, and we hurried in. Her phone rang with the news before we reached her room. Afterward, while end of life issues were being dealt with, I sat outside the room with her body, and I let myself open, and she came to me. She was worried about the family, and rightly so since there was a lot of strife over end of life care and one of my family members is still angry and blaming folks that she died. But I told her we would be okay, and Grandpa (he died before I was born) had been waiting an awfully long time to dance with her again, and she should go join him. And I felt her leave. (I actually freaked out one of my family members, too, when one of them was all “I can feel her spirit right above us,” and I said, “Actually, she’s standing next to Aunt J.”)

This is something I don’t talk about a whole lot, mostly because people get weird about it, but it’s my truth. I don’t go looking for spirits, and I certainly don’t do anything stupid that would draw their attention to me or upset them. We may not understand the paranormal, but it’s always good to be respectful of it regardless.

I hate most ghost hunting shows, since they largely stir things up in ways that could be dangerous to folks beyond them.

#spirits #paranormal #respect

[rowsandrows-of-roses]

Flores de Colombia

So, I have two Colombian coworkers, whom I love talking to because they were both born and raised in Colombia and give me such amazing stuff for Isabela all the time. (Her love of horses comes from my coworker, Nancy, whose father raised Paso Finos. <3) I learn a lot about the country and culture from them. And one thing they always say is how beautiful Colombia is and how much biodiversity there is because of the Alpines, the Amazon, and the coastlines.

It is one of the most biodiverse places in the world. They have the most indigenous flower species and the most butterflies, as well as others. Not to mention, they are second only to the Netherlands in flower exports. (The next time you buy flowers, look where they are from! Especially if you're in North America, chances are the flowers are from Colombia. The ones I have in my vase rn are from there.)

I am sure the creators of Encanto knew this and it's part of the reason that Isabela has the gift she does. Isabela knows this too and it makes her feel very connected to Colombia, even though she never lived there.

This list is not necessarily her favorite flowers (though some of them are on here), or her favorite ones to create (though some of those are on here too), but more of a love letter to all the beautiful and culturally significant flowers of Colombia! (I did so much research for this, lmao.)

Cattleya Trianae Orchid: The national flower of Colombia! Colombia is known for its diversity of orchids. The Cattleya is also called the “mayo de flor” or the May Flower. It is known for the fact that it grows on trees without feeding on them. (Something, something, metaphor for Isabela.) Also, it was the inspiration for the color of Isabela’s dress in the movie and the reason her favorite color is purple! Unfortunately, they are one of the most threatened species of orchid in Colombia due to habitat destruction.

Freedom Roses: Colombia is also a huge exporter of roses and they have many different kinds, but freedom roses are the classic bright red rose that is cultivated all over the world. Also, the petals of the freedom rose are used in many Colombian desserts. It also has medicinal and cosmetic properties. 

Carnations: Another extremely popular export. Carnations come in nearly every color, though in Colombia they are mostly bought and given for Mother’s day--mostly in white and pinks. They can also be considered as “flirty” flowers, symbolizing pure love and innocence. Isabela loves carnations. If you got her a bouquet of carnations over roses, she’d be very impressed.

Sugar Flower: These flowers often decorate gardens and are extremely popular to put outside your house.  I am sure they are all over the walls of Casita. They symbolize innocence and are edible! A lot of time they decorate cocktails and have a slightly spicy taste. (I’ve actually tasted these, since they grow in California too, they’re pretty good, lol.) They also dance! If their petals get too close to another flowers, they shrink or move.

San Joaquin: Another edible flower! These are a species of hibiscus and aren’t actually native to Colombia, but they grow everywhere. Again, they decorate doorways and are used to beautify neighborhoods. Another flower that probably adorns Casita in the summertime. (They bloom June-August.) 

Heliconia Bird of Paradise: One of Isabela’s favorites, just because they’re so pretty and unique. They’re a little different from other flowers too, so she kind of keeps it to herself that she likes them so much. They can be found in many colors and are extremely bright and eye-catching. Considered more exotic and rare. 

Alpinia Purpurata: Another more “different” flower that Isabela really likes. These grow in Casita’s garden, for sure. They can get very big (up to 2 meters high). They’re very showy plants, due to their large size and bright colors. Part of the reason that Isabela loves them so much. 

Amazon Victory: The giant amazon water lily! The biggest species of which is found in Colombia. I want to HC that there is a pond in the Casita garden where some of these grow. Isabela also has a large pond in her room which definitely has these and sometimes she likes to lay on them, lol. (Her room in my mind is like Monet’s garden in Giverny). This is another one of those kind of “weird” flowers that Isabela probably wouldn’t super openly admit to liking, but she loves them. (Water lilies are also my favorite flower, fun fact, so I had to include them.) Their flowers also bloom every morning at sunrise and close again at night, which I love.

Iníridas: I found these flowers in my research and while they aren’t well known or particularly culturally significant, they are helping indigenous communities thrive with the exportation of the flowers to generate income for underserved areas. Additionally, the flowers are important because they can soak up metals in the soil and help restore balance to polluted areas. They are an “umbrella” species. By protecting them, you protect several other species around them. [link to the article, if you're interested.]

#swyntask #la flor #aesthetic

[justfor2am]

So...

You have some ocs?

Share any of them *stares respectively with hands held together, fingers intertwined with each other in a fist*

~ ☃️

oh i sure fucking DO i'm so glad you asked

i actually have a whole universe i've been workshopping for a few years, with six main ocs, and then six ocs that are directly complimentary to the first bunch

of the group, my favorites are paloma and adela, they're my darling girls and incredibly fucked up in so many ways <3

the planet they live on has a surplus of magic native to the planet itself, and the mortals on the planet are able to harness that native magic and use sigils to channel the magic.

the exception to this are the Champions, six mortal demi gods that are the reincarnations of the Chosen Ones, who were once humans themselves that ascended to godhood and later were imprisoned within mirrors in a place that would eventually become the Sanctuary of the reincarnations. a meeting place, of sorts.

anyways, paloma and adela are both reincarnations of one of the six, though only paloma is aware of her reincarnation status at first. her rebirth was prophesied by Lune, one of the six, and thus paloma was kidnapped as a baby and brought to coven to be raised by a group of Sol followers.

paloma, as Sol's reincarnation, has the gift of fire, her hair turning into flames that she can use to make herself float by adjusting the oxygen intake and/or reducing her flame. she also has Sol's original sword, and is treated in her hometown as a local hero, and basically has the weight of reviving their dying religion on her shoulder's since she was born.

adela's parents moved to Ailate, paloma's hometown, (an entire nation away) because of the well established magical education system Aliate boasted, much more formal than the star-reading and other methods their hometown offered.

adela was often pushed aside and belittled by her peers because the way she cast magic was so different. she didn't know it then, but she was using Lune's magic, another one of the six, and because of this struggled to understand linear magic teachings, though when asked to cast a spell, could always figure out a way from what she did understand.

sun and moon, they were drawn together and destined to destroy one another. paloma, plagued by the spotlight and a future she did not ask for, falls into darkness trying to find purpose.

adela, kept in the shadows and underestimated, pushes herself to the brink of death to learn how magic works to find a way to stop the strange, sporadic visions that seem to spell only evil of the future. from the darkness, she becomes a beacon of light, bends the rules in order to do the greatest amount of good.

also they're both mutually in love with one another, but fate has a funny way of dragging them apart when they need the other most.

paloma: her appearance was tightly controlled by the nuns at the coven she was raised in, and was often seen in calming, light colors and presented excessively feminine. she had little say in the matter, and for a short while when was independent, continued to mimic that style, because it was all she knew how to wear.

adela: mostly overlooked, it didn't matter as much what her appearance was, so she has more freedom in that matter. her hair is usually kept tied up in a ponytail, but only when she's working.

[the picrew i used!]

#justfor2am #justfor2talks #lost in your reflection #liyr #my ocs #that's the name of the story btw lol

[allyn211]

Make the left turn at . . . Loll?

Make the left turn at . . . Loll? Bugs Bunny, in many of his cartoons, winds up in weird places and then complains, "I KNEW I should have taken that left turn at Alberquerque!" (In the cartoon, Bugs Bunny In King Arthur's Court, he adds, "I will never, never take directions from Ray Bradbury ever again!) When one man had to make a left turn, he discovered something about his wife he never knew. In Coal Troll's Blog, written by John M. Williams, a native of Harlan County, Kentucky, Williams describes growing up in Harlan County and comments that "Harlan County is not on the way to anywhere." He's right. If you wind up in Harlan County, there is a 99% chance that you meant to get there. (I was born in Harlan County; my family moved away when I was four but we've made many trips back since. My last visit was in 2019, to scatter a portion of my mother's ashes on her father's grave.)  After Williams wrote the entry "The Harlan County Way" in February, 2013, he got a total of over 200 comments talking about life in Eastern Kentucky. The majority of the comments were positive memories.  One man, not born in Harlan County, told the following story, retold in my words: He'd married a woman born and raised in Harlan who'd moved to Indiana when she was a teenager. On vacation, they decided to go see the woman's sister.  They'd been driving south, so I wouldn't know if they'd turned right or left -- although I suspect it was left, if they were coming from the direction I think they were.  In any event, when they reached Pineville, Kentucky, there's only one way from Pineville to Harlan, and that is US Route 119. It's been repaved, widened, repaved, and rerouted over the years. (I remember riding over the road one time and seeing two construction machines parked on the side, one with "CAT" and the other with "Caterpillar" on the side.) When I drove it in 2019, it took about a half hour to get from Pineville to Harlan. My cousin later reminded me that it used to take about an hour and I said, "Yeah, I thought it was a long drive from Pineville!" The driver in the comment was driving on US 119, looking for the turnoff to Loll.  He was quite surprised when his wife informed him (his words were "chastised soundly") for missing the road. So, he made a U-turn and drove back down US 119, then made yet another U-turn and drove back towards Harlan, this time much more slowly.  His wife told him to take the turn at Loyall.  Why? he asked.  This is where my sister lives, she responded. In Harlan County, Loyall is not pronounced like the word "loyal." It is pronounced, "L-O-L-L." He commented, that was the day that he learned that when you turned onto US 119 at Pineville, his wife "changed languages and needed a translator." I believe it. She stopped speaking English and started speaking Appalachian.  I spent almost five years of my life in Harlan County. I still count myself as a Harlan Countian, even though I have not lived there since 1968. These days, I proofread depositions from a court reporting firm in Louisville. (Someone once asked me, "Do you pronounce the capital of Kentucky LEW-e-ville, Louis-ville, or Loo-ville?" My answer:  "You actually pronounce it Frankfort.")  Specifically, I proofread depositions for civil cases, and many of those depositions have come from Eastern Kentucky. Whenever I see the words, "Mamaw" and "Papaw" in a deposition, I just mentally nod my head and say, "Yep, they're from Kentucky." (I know there's other areas of the country that use "Mamaw" and "Papaw."  Here's one other reason I knew Loyall was pronounced "Loll".  My father graduated from high school there, from the now-closed Loyall High School. So, Bugs Bunny, next time you turn right at Alburquerque, if you wind up in Harlan County, don't be shocked if you think they speak a foreign language there.  Because they do. And for many people, that language is the language of home. Just my .04, adjusted for inflation. via Blogger https://ift.tt/Eu5NL4l January 18, 2023 at 08:31PM

#IFTTT #Blogger