apex of the sun

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  Bomber cats are pretty cool  

pose* Praise the sun!

By Apex Gaming

daishō in glasses: an aesthetic i’d die for
i probably could’ve moved his hair part a little more to the right bc he’s got that Comb over look going but alas i suck & this is my first time trying to draw my son

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The Astrology of Angela Davis: Radical Goddess Aspects in The Natal Chart - By Nicole Richelle

When looking at Angela Davis’ chart, there is no denying the brilliance, bravery and non-traditional energies she embodies. She pretty much emerged from the womb ready to take on the world.

Early nurturing influences

Born Angela Yvonne Davis on January 26th 1944, in Birmingham, Alabama (at 12:30 PM) her most elevated planet is her Sun in Aquarius right on the Midheaven. Aquarius, more than any sign in the Zodiac, is always more than willing to fight for the collective consciousness and embrace radical concepts. Her Sun conjuncts the South Node in Aquarius and trines Neptune in Libra in the 6th house of service; It has been her life’s purpose to serve humanity and possibly in a past life (South Node) as well. This spirit of activism was influenced heavily by her mother. Angela’s Moon, associated with the mother and nurturing, is in Aquarius as well and trines Ceres (mother to Persephone, nurturing, parenting) in thought provoking and intellectual Gemini in the 3rd house of communication. Angela’s mother was a leading organizer of The Southern Negro Youth Congress whose influences were heavily colored by the communist party. Her Moon/Ceres aspect in air is a huge indicator of intellectual (Gemini) and progressive (Aquarius) nurturing (Moon/Ceres)

Ceres’ gift to the world was through nourishment/food/harvest. Her placement in Gemini intensifies the need for knowledge and sharing it with others through support and education (she’s the former director of the feminist studies department at the University of California)

Her Pluto in the 4th house gives clues into the intense/dark racial climate Angela dealt with in her living environment. The 1963 church bombings took place in Alabama and this had a huge impact on Angela. While painful, the experiences were life altering and transformational on a deep psychological level. Pluto’s opposition to her Sun is indicative of power struggles from the powers that be and her refusal to allow those in control to rule over her in anyway.

Her Aquarius Sun is at the apex of a lovely and inspiring kite formation in air, which consists of Uranus in Gemini, Neptune in Libra, and Pluto in Leo anchoring the aspect. Here we have the freedom fighter with an idealist touch (nearly all of Angela’s planets and goddess asteroids are in air signs) with her Sun conjunct the Midheaven (the collective and how the world at large viewed her and continues to view her) trine Neptune she has become somewhat of a mythological figure and savior (Neptune) to the masses, even if she doesn’t view herself that way.

Feminism and Women’s Issues

Juno in Aquarius is the radical bride. She commits to no one, yet everyone. Juno is also associated with womanhood, marriage, and childbirth. Angela is a staunch supporter of reproductive rights and the rights of women. Her passion is further ignited by Vesta in Gemini in conjunct Uranus and trine her South Node/Sun conjunction. Her we have a deep commitment to serving her inner intellectual/goddess and with its placement in the 1st house it shows a deep desire for individualism and emancipation while sharing these same gifts with the people/women.

Angela’s strong desire to reform and transform extends to the industrial prison complex. The 12th house rules institutions, prison being one of them. Her 12th house ruler (Mars) is conjunct Uranus! Uranus is the archetypal symbol of freedom and transcending traditional restraints that hinder growth. Pallas (Athena) warrior-goddess of wisdom and aid to those in battle, sits in the 12th house in Aries revealing her to be a powerful ally to a group that is often hidden/ignored (12th) This of course included her ties to the Black Panthers and the Communist Party.

Philosophy and Social Consciousness

Mercury in disciplined Capricorn sits in the 9th house of higher-education, philosophy, and foreign travel. While studying French, Angela had a deep interest in philosophy and philosophical thought. Mercury/Capricorn gives one a mature and sober thought process. Even as a child her thinking was advanced. She was awarded a scholarship to Brandies University. The ruler of her 9th house (Saturn) is in Gemini in the 3rd house of writing and communication; Saturn conjuncts Ceres and trines her Moon. To say learning and philosophical thought feeds her emotionally is an understatement. Another curious find is her connection to German-American philosopher, Herbert Marcuse. Angela met him during a rally and he became a mentor to her. Herbert’s Mercury forms a wide conjunction to her Jupiter and his Jupiter conjuncts her Neptune and trine’s her Sun. This is a pleasant and supportive meeting of the minds that encourages expansive thinking. She credited him for helping her to merge her academic and revolutionary ideologies.

Smoke Above the Timberline

Chapter One: Point of Origin

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction, spiritually inspired by the video game Firewatch

Word Count: 5117

Summary: It’s the summer of 1992, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng has not had a great run of luck. The first half of the year took almost everything she cared about, and so when she gets the chance to run away - to spend a quiet summer as a fire lookout in Boise National Forest, far away from home - she takes it. It’s there she meets a young man named Adrien, a fellow lookout and her supervisor, and it’s there that events unfold that will force Marinette to confront her past, her future, and a mystery that takes her deep into untamed wilderness.

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Crossed Lines

A birthday fic for @cinensis because he is awesome and deserving of good things on his great day. And I’m bringing together the best of both worlds!

It had been what some might call an astronomical anomaly: a strange combination of gravity fields and heavenly alignments and stray, confused energies, tangling and turning and taking entities that should have been in one place and moving them elsewhere. To a normal mortal living their day-to-day lives, it may not feel like anything was out of place, but for beings and guardians who exist within the realm of such an event, it was…a very bizarre day.

Bizarre, because at some point when the storm was at its apex, Genos the Sun God opened his eyes into inky darkness. Not the emptiness of space, but another kind of solitude, and it felt like an entire world was on top of him. Water. He was under a great ocean, at its very deepest. And…

Genos?

At the sound of his name, he turned, and the shadows were broken by colorful lights, glowing and blinking. Between them, particles danced, suspended, and the creature with too-familiar eyes was coming towards him, floating through the water, fin swaying through the depths.

“Saitama?”

He approached him immediately, hands moving to touch his face, and Saitama flinched. He looked so different…at first he thought that he might pull away, but after a moment, he reached forward as well, touching the jewelry and tattoos around his eyes. His hands were webbed and even despite the slickness of scales he knew him. He would always know him. Is this really you?

“I think…I believe that I am Genos from another time. Another plane of existence, coexisting with the Genos of your space.”

Saitama just stared.

“Mostly, yes.”

He nodded slowly, and then his mouth curved up in a way that must have been a smile. I’m not going to say that I get it, but…I’m always happy to see you.

Genos smiled too, softly running his finger along the glowing orb on Saitama’s forehead, smooth and warm. Saitama took his other hand as his eyes closed, bubbles escaping from the gills on his neck. A content sigh.

“I feel the same.”

“Dude, what happened to your legs?”

“I am an underwater research cyborg, Sensei. They help me to propel through the water for an extensive period of time, and they have been made to withstand great amounts of pressure, and…um…Sensei?”

Saitama had walked behind Genos and grabbed his ponytail, running it through his fingers. “Your hair is really long,” he mused.

Genos reached back to remove his hair tie, careful to keep it grasped in his hand. He still had no idea how exactly he had wound up on the moon, but he wasn’t about to try any tests as to when the gravity would affect him and when it would not. For now, he seemed to be able to sit on the large moonrock while Saitama wandered around him, inspecting him thoroughly.

“It’s different. I like it.”

As Saitama returned to stand in front of him, Genos touched his robes, fingering the beautiful, light fabric before finally resting his palms on his waist. He had always wondered what Saitama would look like, as a human, and now that he was here - well, a version of him anyway - it was interesting, but…his Saitama was perfect just the way he was.

When he glanced up, he realized that Saitama’s eyes were full of tears. “Sensei,” he said, gathering him close, rubbing his back gently. “Please forgive me. I know I may not appear as you are used to seeing me, but…”

“Shut up, idiot.” He still stroked Genos’s hair, drying his eyes against the strands. “I don’t care about that. I just don’t get to see you enough.”

Genos squeezed him tight. Some things seemed to be consistent no matter where he was.

“You were a fish, Saitama.”

“…what?! How could I be a fish? How the heck would that work?”

Genos…you glowed so bright. And you were warmer than anything I’ve ever felt.

“I can be warm too, Sensei…”

Together again, the universe was righted, and despite the strange circumstances of the day, the love shared by each remained the same, an unending spark in a sea of stars and worlds.

As the equinox reaches its apex. The eclipse only lasts about 30 seconds or so. And as it reaches its apex and the light of the sun is completely blotted out, the three of you can see in the sky for just a brief moment the sky is filled with thousands of bright white eyes and they’re all just burning intensely and then as the sun and moon part from one another they fade out just as quickly as they appeared. And then as the equinox passes the music also fades and then it’s just… back to normal. It’s bright outside and the three of you are left standing. The director is the first one to sit up and survey the scene. You have survived this terrible cacophonous event.
—  Griffin McElroy painting a word picture of the equinox cacophony Carnival Chaos
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☆ GoT s5 meme ☆ Favorite Relationship - Daenerys & Drogon

“And Drogon … The winged shadow, the grieving father called him. He was the largest of her three, the fiercest, the wildest, with scales as black as night and eyes like pits of fire. Drogon hunted far afield, but when he was sated he liked to bask in the sun at the apex of the Great Pyramid, where once the harpy of Meereen had stood.” 

jstar2307  asked:

Do you think Trump as a gemini be a great leader for a country.

jfk was a gemini. gemini can be inspiring leaders if they reign in on resolving their duality, they can be leading moderates, good negotiators, and engaging communicators with the public. i didnt watch too many of the US election speeches but i noticed marco rubio was probably the best speaker of all and he spoke without notes? i could be wrong. he is a gemini.

I think theres a lot in the chart that can indicate a good leader. uranus elevating as the apex of the chart.a compassionate 11th house. donald trump has gemini sun in the 10th house with mars on the ascendant. thats a big mouth. that is using the VOICE to get a public (10th house) response. i don’t want to comment too much on the validity of political ideologies because i believe they are ideals, but trump has used that mind and loud voice to tap into a certain calibre of people who respond to that sort of extremism, even if he personally does not believe his own convictions, which is what i think, that he doesn’t believe what he thinks or he says. he is basically his own broadcasting network.

he is a great leader for a corporation, maybe, not for a place in desperate need for heart and vision at this point in time

-C.

creamami  asked:

congratulations on your followers! your writing is lovely to read & you deserve all the love!! prompt: sasusaku, goddess and devout follower!

AN: thank you so much ;A; and what a kickass prompt!


In the dead of winter, ironically, he meets the goddess of spring.

The bite of December air is familiar to the crunch of his boots, but a spill of pink amidst the white snow is foreign. Sasuke frowns, and unsheathes his sword to approach—a woman, it seems, standing underneath a long dead tree. His movements are automatic, his breaths in deadly control.

“Who—”

“You can see me.” The voice is light, but something is off, and he tenses. Too airy, he thinks. Too fair, too delicate. The grip on his chokuto tightens when she trails a hand down the tree’s trunk; something in the motion thrums with apex power and life.

He swallows.

Different.

“Blessed by the sun goddess,” she continues as she turns around, slowly. “Eyes touched by Ameterasu.”

Her eyes are the green of leaves. Her skin is the cream of lilies. And Sasuke’s heard about the gods and goddesses, prayed at the temple, but—

“I am real, yes.”

“Konohanasakuya,” he breathes. Goddess of the spring. His hand is trembling, he realizes, when an almost feral grin graces her features.

“Yes, yes,” she says. Her hands touch the trunk again, and he sees life breathe through her fingertips. Cherry blossoms bloom in the middle of winter.

Her teeth are the white of death. “But you may call me Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke.”

akenodear  asked:

It was a quiet day, not much work needed to be done so Akeno took the time to relax at the local park "Akeno: hmm it's always so calm out here I don't understand why more are here..." slowly becoming unaware of those around here as she closed her eyes and layed on the grass

The sun was high in the apex of its arc, inching towards the distant horizon, and towards dusk. It was mid-day, and she had the chance to take a break, and walk in the nearby, local park. Today, she had decided to change into regular civilian clothes, and so sported a pristine, white blouse, as well as a frilly, sky-blue skirt.

Keen, chocolate-brown eyes swept across the down-trodded paths, as she pushed a stray lock of similarly coloured hair behind her ear, thoughts drifting. That is, until her eyes landed upon a someone laying on the grass.

For the time of day, it was rather odd that more people were not here, but she didn’t mind it, and as she walked, subsequently approaching the other, she could make out the otherworldly beauty upon this young woman’s face, causing her eyes to widen slightly, as she neared.

@akenodear

piyaara  asked:

Okay so I have a question, since you read asoiaf, is it true that Daenerys admits that Dragons are untameable?

“Untamable” is a hard word here. In short, the answer is yes. Dany comes to the realization that she can’t control her dragons and locks them up (kind of like what the show is portraying,) except it’s not so much because they’re untamable ever.

Dany is at a huge disadvantage while trying to control her dragons. Dragons have been thought extinct for a hundred years. Dany has no experience or guides (though Tyrion may serve as the latter later on given his encyclopedic knowledge of dragons.)

Moreover, in Old Valyria, it’s not like taming dragons came naturally to people (though to some extent, there’s a genetic advantage but it still didn’t solve all problems or work every time.) What happened is that the dragon lords used certain methods to control their dragons.

The dragonlords of old Valyria had controlled their mounts with binding spells and sorcerous horns. Daenerys made do with a word and a whip. Dany, ADWD

So are the dragons capable of being tamed? Yes, but not with the resources Dany has- which she is aware of and is why she locks them up to begin with. She has them partially tamed but that’s just through her connection to them.

Mounted on the dragon’s back, she oft felt as if she were learning to ride all over again. When she whipped her silver mare on her right flank the mare went left, for a horse’s first instinct is to flee from danger. When she laid the whip across Drogon’s right side he veered right, for a dragon’s first instinct is always to attack. Sometimes it did not seem to matter where she struck him, though; sometimes he went where he would and took her with him. Neither whip nor words could turn Drogon if he did not wish to be turned. The whip annoyed him more than it hurt him, she had come to see; his scales had grown harder than horn. Dany, ADWD

Neither whip nor words could turn Drogon if he did not wish to be turned. 

Unless you’re asking if Dany admits it to others?

It’s kind of known among some that dragons are not really able to be controlled.

At her command, one produced an iron key. The door opened, hinges shrieking. Daenerys Targaryen stepped into the hot heart of darkness and stopped at the lip of a deep pit. Forty feet below, her dragons raised their heads. Four eyes burned through the shadows—two of molten gold and two of bronze.

Ser Barristan took her by the arm. “No closer.”

“You think they would harm me?”

“I do not know, Your Grace, but I would sooner not risk your person to learn the answer.” Dany, ADWD

Also, Dany has to get men (6 of which die trying) to contain Rhaegal and bring him down to the pits. The fact that Dany couldn’t make her dragons go kind of speaks for itself. And that’s not even getting into Drogon’s attempted capture:

Drogon hunted far afield, but when he was sated he liked to bask in the sun at the apex of the Great Pyramid, where once the harpy of Meereen had stood. Thrice they had tried to take him there, and thrice they had failed. Two score of her bravest had risked themselves trying to capture him. Almost all had suffered burns, and four of them had died.

It’s kind of hard to hide that you don’t have full control over dragons.

Dany does try when she tells a father whose daughter was killed by Dany’s dragons to not speak of it:

Her name had been Hazzea. She was four years old. Unless her father lied. He might have lied. No one had seen the dragon but him. His proof was burned bones, but burned bones proved nothing. He might have killed the little girl himself, and burned her afterward. He would not have been the first father to dispose of an unwanted girl child, the Shavepate claimed. The Sons of the Harpy might have done it, and made it look like dragon’s work to make the city hate me. Dany wanted to believe that … but if that was so, why had Hazzea’s father waited until the audience hall was almost empty to come forward? If his purpose had been to inflame the Meereenese against her, he would have told his tale when the hall was full of ears to hear.

… Dany chose to pay the blood price. No one could tell her the worth of a daughter, so she set it at one hundred times the worth of a lamb. “I would give Hazzea back to you if I could,” she told the father, “but some things are beyond the power of even a queen. Her bones shall be laid to rest in the Temple of the Graces, and a hundred candles shall burn day and night in her memory. Come back to me each year upon her nameday, and your other children shall not want … but this tale must never pass your lips again.” 

“Men will ask,” the grieving father had said. “They will ask me where Hazzea is and how she died.” 

“She died of a snakebite,” Reznak mo Reznak insisted. “A ravening wolf carried her off. A sudden sickness took her. Tell them what you will, but never speak of dragons.”

So Dany and her advisors try to cover it up, but it’s not exactly an easy secret to keep- especially when most people will instinctively know controlling dragons is not easy.

Her conversation with Xaro Xhoan Daxos (who is still alive in the books, mind you) in Meereen after she locks up the dragons is very telling:

“Have you forgotten? I have dragons.”

“Do you? In Qarth, you were seldom seen without a dragon on your shoulder … yet now that shapely shoulder is as fair and bare as your sweet breast, I observe.”

“My dragons have grown, my shoulders have not. They range far afield, hunting.” Hazzea, forgive me. She wondered how much Xaro knew, what whispers he had heard. “Ask the Good Masters of Astapor about my dragons if you doubt them.” I saw a slaver’s eyes melt and go running down his cheeks. Dany, ADWD

So Dany admits to herself that she can’t control the dragons fully and it becomes something bordering on an open secret because no amount of good PR can hide something like this. Dany and her team try to, but it’s so difficult that Dany outright wonders “how much Xaro knew, what whispers he had heard” when it comes to Dany having control of her dragons, even though Xaro doesn’t live in Meereen.

New Story: All the King's Horses

Author: mon-petit-pois

Rating:

Warnings: violence, adult themes and content

Pairing: Tony DiNozzo/Ziva David

Word Count: 7,026

Summary:It all started when Ziva’s father did not approve her request for a liaison position with NCIS. Instead, he offered her a mission that she could not refuse. From there it did not take long for a crisis to arise— a crisis that intertwined her path with the one person who could save her. AU after Kill Ari II. T/Z.

Link to fanfiction.net

oOo

Part I

He had been drifting in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity, grappling with the elusive fabric of reality that seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The grapefruit-sized lump on the back of his head was to fault for this state of limbo—it throbbed metrically and colored the shadowy room blood red.

This time, he woke to find that the sun had long ago sunk below the horizon. Now the only thing illuminating the dirt, cinderblock cell was bright moonlight coming from the barred window high on the wall against which he was leaning. It reflected off of the dust particles drifting aimlessly through the bitter night air.

As Tony’s eyes began to adjust he looked across the tiny room, gaze resting on his cellmate. The past few times he’d woken up he had been much less lucid, but he’d had enough wits about him to notice the body lying near the opposite wall, just to the right of the heavy wooden door. He hadn’t noticed much else before drifting off again. Now it was just dark enough that he could only make out an outline. The person lay on his side, his back facing Tony, still as death. Tony could not even make out movement that would suggest he was breathing.

God knew how long that poor soul had been here.  Tony tried to open his mouth to speak to him, but he found that his tongue and throat were too dusty and dry. 

When Tony’s sluggish brain managed to catch itself up with the events of the past few days, he began to look toward the future, which was, at the moment, veiled in ambiguity. The sunrise would no doubt bring with it a host of unfavorable events and hostile men armed with the very guns that put that aching lump on his head. The fact that he might die did not bother him as much as he felt it should. What botheredhim was that he might die without knowing the reason he was even here in the first place.

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