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#planetary dignity
beyonsatan · 10 months
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Here are some REAL astrological tips that I'm not just pulling out my ass and actually learned from reading
1. Aquarius is not ruled by uranus, aquarius is ruled by saturn. When astrologers discovered uranus they borrowed some of the traits of saturn and applied them to uranus because they didnt know what to do with this planet. Having strong uranus influence won't make you feel like an outsider but having a strong saturn influence will. Uranus does not rule "outcasts" or "obstruction" it rules sudden changes which we only associate with aquarius because of their eccentricity and the modern rulership of this sign, aquarius isn't as open to "change" as we would like to think they are, they're a saturn(restrictions) ruled fixed sign, they're more open minded and progressive than capricorn but they're more traditional and less accepting than we think pisces to be.
2. NO planet is unwelcome in the 5th and 11th house. Any personal planets in these houses including mars and saturn, especially the chart ruler is a sign of good fortune, wealth, successful investments and just an easy life in general because these houses are the joy of Venus and Jupiter, harmful planets here become neutralized and instead work to our benefit even with difficult aspects. Ex: Someone with a 5th house saturn might work high paying government jobs or become some kind of authority(saturn) figure sometime within their life.
3. What you've been taught about the north and south node is wrong. The north node is not "underdeveloped traits" The north node represents "increase" while the south node represents decrease, not your comfort zone and this is according to hellenistic and ancient astrology. The north node represents the dragon head while the south node represents its tail. Wherever your north node(the head) is, is where there's an infatuation and/or otherwise increase of energy and experiences, the south node (the tail) is something you abandoned (and shouldnt have) so you could focus on your north node, it's not necessarily something you need to let go of because that's like saying the dragon cut his tail off so he could keep his head lol, the dragon doesn't need to cut his tail at all, his tail is what's helping send him into the right direction because how do you expect him to move without his tail? In this case the south node is something you can rely on to assist you when handling the topics of your north node, that's the whole point. If south node was something that we needed to dismiss or free ourselves from it, there wouldn't be a south node, the south node and north node exist with each other, they HAVE to co-exist
4. I don't really debate about which house system to use when reading your own chart or others but when reading transits, synastry and composite charts, I strongly recommend using WS to make things alot less confusing.
5. The moon is a significator of money in alot of the same ways venus and jupiter are that's why the moon gets exalted in taurus. Moon in Taurus, Pisces, Sagittarius or Libra in the 3rd (house joy), 5th or 11th house is an indicator of wealth.
6. When outer planets transit your cadent houses please don't have a breakdown, planets in cadent houses have the weakest influence within a person's chart.
7. The houses responsible for fame are realistically the 5th, 7th house, 10th and 11th house and everything starts with the 5th house. Explanation: 5th house is the talent you have, the 11th house is your audience, you bring the talents you build upon in the 5th house for the world to see over into the 11th house, the 7th house is your relationship to law and the public, partnerships etc, if you wanna get contracts like a partnership with the NBA or picked to star in a movie, all of this would take place in the 7th house, the 10th house is the brand and image you cultivate after your name gets around from the 7th house, this house talks about your peak, how well did you do? Did you make it big? Planets here, where it's ruler is/and aspects will color all of this. Honorable mention is the 1st house cause the 1st house like the 10th house is angular and says alot about whether eyes are on you, do you get attention, are you an extrovert, are you confident or is building up those kind of things difficult for you, all of this gets answered in the 1st house.
8. Do not let any amateur astrologers gaslight you into thinking that having 8th or 12th house placements make you spiritual, spirituality gets its meaning from the 9th house and the 11th house where jupiter finds joy, planets in the 8th and 12th house is NOT for the weak and I don't mean to sound arrogant, I have 12th house placements and I'm aware that the 12th house doesn't get its meaning from pisces or jupiter, sprutuality is meant to be a good thing, planets in these houses is not a good thing so it is not wise to draw proximity there
9. Both Venus/ Jupiter and it's aspects is an indicator of marriage, the sign they're in, house placement and aspects will tell you more about your spouse (venus if you're attracted to women and jupiter if you're attracted to men)
10. Debilitated or fallen planets are liberated or in accidental dignity when in the angular houses or the 5th and 11th. Yes this counts for retrograde planets as well even tho i don't count retrogrades as a debilitaty. Think of them as having "redemption arcs" like negan from the walking dead, started out evil or In bad condition but it got better real fast or the challenges with that placement are easy to overcome. Ex: aquarius sun in the 1st house, aquarius is obviously debilitated under the sun because the sun and saturn are enemies and aquarius gets overwhelmed by the attention and self expression that comes with the sun but with the sun in the 1st house that luminary becomes apart of you, it's literally influencing your physical body and how you behave, with the sun here you have no trouble expressing yourself and actually like attention, so it's like having a leo rising but alot more intense
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flickeringart · 2 years
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Read more on Patreon!
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eclecticqueer · 2 years
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Hey love! Hru? Hope u r doing fine.
If it's ok to u then can I ask what are debilitated planets?
If u do so then thanku sm in advance. Take care ✨💙
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(Hello there!)
Debilitations can happen depending on the house placement, sign placement and aspects to Saturn, Mars, and Pluto, these planets are considered 'malefic'
Neptune maybe considered malefic depending on placement and aspects
Debilitation is when the planet's energies cannot express themselves as they traditionally would, making it so that the individual must find a personal and unique path to express this part of them
The planets have 'essential dignities' these dignities tell us which signs the planetary energies feel most comfortable/ uncomfortable in
These dignities are 'exaltation,' 'domicile,' 'detriment,' and 'fall,' I highly recommend looking up planetary dignities for more information
In regards to houses, the 6H, 8H and 12H have a traditional reputation of being debilitating, and require special attention and care to express itself in a way that best serves
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jedi-starbird · 4 months
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A happier galaxy where the disaster lineage is somewhat less on fire constantly and senior padawan Obi-wan has developed a fixation on Mandalorians:
Sometimes Feemor regretted just how much he had given away when he had spent 5 expensive months bribing a traumatised Obi-wan to call him brother when he was 14. His dignity, for one, his access codes and shadow cloaking techniques, another. So he had a very dignified reaction when he was awoken to the shine of his younger brother's eyes in the dark at the foot of his bed. "I wou-stop screaming it's just me-I would like a Mandalorian. How do I procure one?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
Obi-wan scowled as if Feemor was being difficult, he wasn't, he wasn't quite awake enough for that yet. "You're a shadow, you're supposed to know things."
Ah, if being a shadow granted you the secrets of the universe instead of just a great many planetary governments, Feemor wouldn't spend so much time wondering what dark rituals Dooku had committed to result in Qui-gon Jinn. (He already knew what regular rituals Qui-gon had committed to result in Obi-wan)
"I know that I'm about to punt you out of my room right now."
"...My birthday is coming up, I believe I deserve compensation for all the traumas."
Obi-wan's eyes were very big now. Feemor sighed. He flopped back down into bed. He resisted the urge to pull his blankets back up and roll over. 'Oh sure when it's time to see mind healers everything's fine but now-'
"Shouldn't you be asking Master then?"
"Master would not approve of how I plan to use the Mandalorian."
He squinted at Obi-wan for a long moment. Obi-wan stared back. He did some quick mental maths and tried not to feel old. Eh. Fine. Feemor swung his legs out of bed. "You had me at 'Master wouldn't approve'."
"Do you think I could get one by walking into little Keldabe and asking very nicely?"
As it turns out, yes he could. A few too many in fact, apparently Jedi, their ancestral enemy, in the Mando district attracted attention, who knew? Feemor knew, Feemor would have known if only he had been properly awake when this semblence of a plan was proposed. He stalked through the cantina towards Obi-wan who was leaning slightly forwards against a pillar, ah...speaking, to a Mandalorian with painted orange armour while surrounded by a larger crowd of Mandos. At least they seem mostly amused. He ignored the youngers squawk as he yanked the back of his robes so that he moved away from the Mandalorian and spun him around.
"You cannot solve centuries of animosity by batting your eyelashes."
"I'm not batting my eyelashes " Obi-wan sniffed," I'm shaking my ass, there's decidedly more effort involved."
"I miss when I was an only child." Feemor sighed deeply. He used the force to scruff the neck of Obi-wan's robes and dangle him slightly in the air. He ignored the shouting from beside him and bowed politely to the staring Mandos. "My apologies for the disturbance, this will not happ-" He considered his brother who was now yelling out his personal comm code with a wink. " Please excuse us, this very probably will happen again, we shall workshop it. May the force be with you all."
I don't have a fully planned AU but it is Codywan!!! cause I love those bitches but have some more dialogue I came up with for this AU. I'm imagining them both as like 20-23, Obi's close to knighthood. He's still a padawan for this because I think him causing Qui-gon headaches is funny. Feemor fully thinks this complicated courtship dance Obi's created is funny, he likes studying his little brother like a bug, he just wasn't prepared for him to just waltz into little kelbade and start hitting on people, though he really should have been.
Hand wavy timeline with Jaster alive but the clones are still clones, Jango was kidnapped and held in stasis or something, Jaster claimed them as Mandos. This is really just about Obi's first and biggest diplomatic achivement being friendly Jedi-Mando relations purely cause he was in his thot era. This also somehow saves the galaxy from the sith.
I like to imagine that Cody's brothers recorded that little exchange between Fee and Obi on their helmets and uploaded it online where it went viral on MandoNet before going viral galaxywide because wait holy shit is that a Jedi saying that????. Qui-gon gets called in for a very weird meeting where the council's like ok so the entire holonet has seen your padawan being horny on main but also this is like the biggest jump in our diplomatic relationship with the Mandos in centuries so like can we keep this up somehow? This results in Obi-wan being holonet famous, first through vode recordings but then he starts a space tumblr and twitter account and he's famous now. Then his friends and other jedi start accounts because wait we're allowed to do that? and those become big as well and this is literally the best PR the jedi have had in hundreds of years. the holonet loves them. the sith are fuming.
Obi-wan, scoffing: What were they gonna do? Shoot me? Feemor: Yes. Obi-wan: I don't believe in blasters. Bly: ...like as a concept...? Obi-wan: No, spiritually.
Obi-wan: I'm sure there's a nice Mandalorian we can find for you Feemor: I'm not sure those 2 words belong together Obi-wan: No of course not, we can't find a nice one, then they'd be all alone, we need to find an absolute bastard of one so that you two match :)
Obi-wan: Oh so Master gets to take in pathetic life forms but I don't? This one's already domesticated! Wolffe: Debatable. Feemor: Cody's a person! Not a stray tooka! Obi-wan: Master takes in stray people all the time! That's how he got me!
Qui-gon: How do you explain this behaviour Padawan ? Obi-wan: The force pushed me towards the Mandalorians Master, it was quite insistent on me developing better relations with them given our difficult history. Feemor: Fascinating, please do elaborate, I'd love to hear the theological implications of a force-assigned kink.
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bsxcrxts · 5 months
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mess
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Luke Skywalker x fem!reader
(note: written with fem!reader in mind, but no gendered language towards reader. reader is afab with breasts)
MINORS DNI. AGE IN BIO TO INTERACT WITH MY WORKS. I WILL BLOCK YOU IF NOT.
word count: 5k shameless, shameless words. teehee
Contains: This is a sex pollen fic!!!! Very mild dubious consent due to those circumstances, but reader and Luke check in with each other multiple times. Reader calls themself a slut briefly but no degradation, the nickname "bunny" and "baby", cunnilingus, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want a baby lol), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, Luke is so babygirl
A/N: This takes place between ANH and ESB and may be the closest I've ever written reader's personality to my own irl; reader is pessimistic and self-conscious at times though it does not come up during the sex in this fic, just before and after. Not to worry, happy ending ;)
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The Rebellion's cover on Yavin IV was completely blown, of course. You can't get away with obliterating the Empire's most impressive weapon of mass destruction and then trying to just stick around to find out what happens– it would be exceptionally bad strategy. The Rebellion has mere weeks to relocate.
You're just not sure why you raised your hand to be placed on the mission to scout the next uninviting and dangerous planet to build a base on.
Actually, you admit to yourself, that's a lie.
You are sure why you thought it was a good idea, in fact, you're very sure, and the reason is a blonde man around your age with the prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen. You've had a crush on him since the moment you saw him, and he had also volunteered for the mission.
The reason is Luke Skywalker.
You jump at the chance, thinking that being around him in a small group would be the easiest way to get to know him. To make him really notice you, not just wave in the hallway as he walks by. Except, coincidentally of course, the Rebellion could only afford to spare two people for the mission, and they stopped taking names once they wrote yours down.
So now, a mere week later, you're alone, on a transport, with Luke Skywalker.
And things have never felt so awkward in your whole life.
In fact, you're seriously rethinking the whole Rebellion thing in general; yes, the cause is deeply important to you, but how important is your dignity in comparison? Would disappearing into the woods back on your home planet forever be letting the Empire win?
It's just that in the three days and two planetary excursions you've spent together, you've fumbled over every interaction you've had with Luke, and it's killing you. You've spoken to him before, but only in short, passing conversations, the kind of thing that's easy to run from. But now? There's no where to run. You've bumped into him at least four times that you can count on the tiny transport and rushed out apologies every time, tripped over a vine on the first planet, slipped on ice on the second. Both times he caught you before you hit the ground. You could have died from the embarrassment, melted into the floor and slipped away.
Your small talk is weak, but at least you can always talk about the weather, since it's actually topical to the mission. You don't know what else to say, desperately trying to come off as normal around him, not like some over-enthused fan who just wants to get with him because he's the Hero of Yavin IV. Luke is either oblivious, or pretends not to notice, and keeps trying to make conversation anyway.
"I don't like Hoth for it. Too cold," he says, sitting down in his seat as the two of you rocket through hyperspace, heading to the next planet. "Actually, it's all the snow. How do you build anything in all that?"
What's worse about the situation is that the mission has been fruitless. The base has to be built on a planet that is next-to inhospitable, with no current population to disrupt. It's a short list of horrible places, but you have to make one of them work.
"Well," you hesitate, "Deyer is toxic, we couldn't even breathe the atmosphere there. Plus we saw Imps orbiting Anout, which we should probably tell someone about."
"Already sent Leia a comm on the secure channel."
You're quiet for a half second. Luke talks fast, and you have to answer quickly to keep up with him, but you aren't used to hearing General Organa's first name from other recruits. Of course he's close with her. Are you trying to compete with a princess? You have to wonder.
Luke sighs and leans back in his chair. "Just like places where it's hot, that's all."
"Cause you fit right in," you mutter, completely accidentally, and hearing yourself, your eyes widen. "Being from Tatooine, you're used to it," you rush.
Hardly your best save, but Luke smiles at you, bemused. You swear sometimes he can see right through your facade.
"You know, I couldn't wait to get off that planet," he says. "There was never any adventure there, not anymore."
"Really?" you ask. "None?"
"I guess I could have stuck around to bullseye womprats in my T-16 but I'd been doing that since I was a kid."
"Oh," you note. Honestly, you don't know if you're sure of what a womprat even is, though you can guess. "So, is this mission another adventure, then?" you ask.
"It can be," Luke says. "I have a feeling it's an important one."
You nod, not sure if you have the right to ask what he means by a feeling. That's the other thing about Luke, he has this power most people don't, this Force that everyone started whispering about after he arrived on base with certain things no one had seen in a long time; a lightsaber, luck, a certain type of faith.
As you're overthinking it, the transport shudders out of hyperspace, blue lines becoming dots of light as you drift into the orbit of the next world on your list to investigate. The two of you part ways as he takes over piloting while you go to prep the packs to bring with you on the excursion.
When Luke lands the small ship on the planet's surface, you hope that this is the perfect location, but something just feels... off.
These places that you and Luke are investigating are all supposed to be disagreeable by design. Something– be it the weather, the atmosphere, the creature life– is supposed to keep most people away, including and especially the Empire. Everyone should be unsuspecting that the Rebellion would ever chose such a location for their base.
The problem is that the ecosystem here is shockingly nice. Welcoming, even. You've landed in a little clearing, but just a few yards away the landscape morphs into nothing but fields and fields, valleys and meadows as far as the eye can see, and in every field grows delicate little wildflowers; with purple petals barely the size of the tip of your finger. They seem to grow on the wild grasses, some of them reaching as tall as your hips.
"We got the right coordinates, right?" you venture.
"Yeah! I don't understand," Luke answers. "This isn't unpleasant at all."
Nerthusa, if you remember the name of the planet correctly, didn't list any conditions in the records, just that there were no sentient inhabitants. Your atmospheric indicator is reading that it's safe, so the two of you take your masks off. There's an overtly sweet smell in the air that hits you right away when you do, obviously because of the flowers.
"There's gotta be some massive creature that lives here that's plotting how to kill and eat us right now. I mean, why else..." you trail off, still looking around for a threat or an incoming storm, but there's nothing.
Luke has done his own surveilling and apparently also come up with nothing in the immediate vicinity.
"We should explore some," he says, "y'know, before we definitely pick this spot instead of Hoth for the base," he jokes, smiling at you again.
For all the grief you gave him earlier, you're not too keen on the idea of living on Hoth either, and so far, Nerthusa is beautiful. Plus, you'd feel pretty bad if you signed off on it and then it turned out there were wild herds of vicious carnivorous beasts roaming around or something. A thorough investigation is only fair, you think, so the two of you grab your packs and set off.
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For a while, everything was fine, but about a half an hour into your trek, things are decidedly not fine in a very unique way, but you would probably rather literally die than mention anything about it to Luke. For one, he was so hopeful about this place, and secondly... well. Let's just say your symptoms were unusual.
It started off with what felt like hot flashes. One moment you'd be perfectly fine in the afternoon breeze, and the next, your cheeks would be burning and you'd have the strong urge to yank your shirt off. In the beginning, it would come in waves, and pass over you, leading you to think you'd just been pushing yourself too hard through the field or something, but how could that be true? The landscape was hardly difficult to maneuver, and your pace steady but not too quick.
The flashes were slowly replaced by waves of a different type of heat, one that was much more difficult to rationalize. Shit, you know you're attracted to Luke, but you've never, ever felt like this, not in situations outside of your bedroom. And not even then.
You can't look at him for too long or you think you might lose control. He's thankfully trailing behind you now by just a little bit, your only reprieve that he can't see your face like this. When you do glance back at him, he's looking at the ground, but his cheeks are flushed just beautifully, his hair catching the light from the late afternoon sun. His toned biceps have a slight sheen of sweat and, and, and–
You rip your gaze away. You want him. No, you NEED him.
No, you're being insane, you mentally scold yourself, but it's getting more and more difficult to rationalize your way out of it. There's a perpetual feeling low inside you now, and you can feel yourself actually dripping into your underwear.
You're not sure how much more you can take, and when you pick up on the sound of Luke breathing heavily behind you, it doesn't make it any better. Is he feeling this too?
Your resolve to say something breaks when you find yourself beginning to imagine what would happen if you stopped walking and let him run into you, pushed your ass against his cock, let him bend you over and fuck you into the goddamn ground, right here, right now. You're thinking about having something, anything inside your cunt, but especially his cock. You have to snap out of it.
"Let's stop for a second," you rush out, not giving Luke a chance to protest. You start walking away from him, hoping to put some distance between the two of you as if that will cure your ailment, so you lean on a large rock a few feet off the side of the trail you'd been walking.
The atmosphere is sickly saccharine now, stifling your breathing. There's a low mist or something hanging in the air and everything feels strangely heavy. You close your eyes for what you thought was just a second, trying to figure out how to bring up that this planet is obviously poisoning you despite what the indicators read earlier, but when you open them again, Luke is gone.
For a second, you panic; your blood runs cold, and your system is too overwhelmed with the brief shock and fear that you can almost fight off the symptoms the planet is subjecting you to. You scan the fields rapidly, your mind searching. It certainly would be worse to lose Luke Skywalker on a random planet in the Outer Rim than nearly any other bad luck that could befall you, and it would mean you'd be alone here. Under any normal circumstance the thought would certainly unsettle you, but rational thought is quickly slipping from your mind's grasp, and you feel different. Maybe even abandoned.
You wheel around and finally see him standing in the valley, several yards away, with his back to you. Your relief is palpable; you feel your shoulders drop and your heart rate settle.
And then the other feelings are back, ten times stronger.
"Luke!" you can't help but call out as you practically double over, and then, fighting to straighten your posture, take a few steps his direction.
Luke turns around and puts his hands out like he's trying to corral a frightened bantha, and that's when you know he's feeling it too. The thought of Luke being as equally aroused as you are in this moment makes your knees buckle.
"Don't, um... don't come any closer, something's wrong," he says.
"I know. We have to get out of here," you shout, continuing to move towards him. "I think I'm... I think I'm getting sick," you insist. It's not a lie, necessarily. It's not the truth either.
"Yeah," Luke says, his voice trembling. "Yeah, me too."
At least both of you are determined to avoid what's really happening.
"It's the flowers," you say, stopping a foot or two away from him. "We're allergic to the pollen, or... or, something. We should take the reaction treatment in the medpacks and leave."
Luke is not listening to you. It's evident by the way he's avoiding your gaze entirely. His eyes wander briefly down your neck to your chest before he appears to zone out completely, gaze falling to the ground.
"Luke..." you trail off. No response. "Luke?" you insist. He doesn't react until you touch his wrist– it's instinctual, and a huge mistake.
"Mm?" he moans lightly as he seems to snap out of the trance he was in, but when he looks up at you, his face is flushed, his pupils blown wide. You probably look similarly messy, you imagine, as the touch of his skin to yours electrifies you. It dulls the ache, soothes the relentless arousal even just a tiny amount. Stars, it's bad. It's worse, because you could become addicted to the way his skin feels against yours right now.
You pull back your hand like you'd been scalded. You want him like you've never wanted anyone. You don't dare to look at his body any further down than his chest, knowing if your own state is any indication, that he's hard and aching in his pants, and you don't know how you'll hold yourself back if you see him like that.
"Sorry," you whisper. He doesn't say anything, just licks his lips subtly and nods.
"Luke," you protest, "we have to get to the ship, and soon. If this is... I don't know what it is," you trail off. Half-truths. You've obviously both been exposed to an extremely powerful aphrodisiac via the flower pollen, you and Luke know there's no denying that. But the extent of its symptoms, and how bad it will get if you stay, there's no way to know.
It pains you, staying focused like this. Your heart and cunt are screaming at you to just have sex with him, to just give in to the urge to use one other to get off. What's left of your logical reasoning persists in one singular thought; get away from the flowers.
"Okay," he says. "Okay, let's go back."
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The walk to the transport is as silent as it is excruciating. You and Luke have an unspoken agreement to stay several feet away from each other, so he trails behind you once again. There's nothing to talk about, anyway.
The seam of your pants rubs against your clit with every step. You almost feel thankful for it, because if not for the merciful contact, you're sure you would have shoved a hand down your pants already. You can feel that there's a wet patch on the crotch of your trousers and you have never felt more humiliated, or more needy. Every few minutes, you sense Luke exhale a soft, barely audible moan behind you.
Don't look. Keep walking, you think. All there is to do is keep walking.
More lies, your mind supplies, like a screwed up dialogue with yourself. You could fuck him instead.
When you reach the transport, you dash inside like you're possessed. As soon as you're both inside, you seal the doors, hoping once you're out of the environment, things might change. You open one of the ship cabinets and rummage through the med supplies until you find the reaction treatment and quickly take the pill that's supposed to regulate your internal systems.
You turn to pass a pill to Luke, who's slumped against the wall, a hand conspicuously placed over the front of his trousers. You don't say anything, just watch as he also takes the treatment, then look away, seating yourself in the passenger side of the ship, crossing your legs, not knowing what else to do.
It's supposed to be instant, but nothing is happening. You wait a few minutes, hoping. Not a goddamn thing feels better.
"If you expect me to– I can't– I can't fly like this," Luke sounds almost irritated for a moment, which you suppose is fair, but you refuse to turn around to look at him. Your nails dig into the armrests next to you. If things hadn't been so damn awkward before, maybe there would have been some kind of resolution to this that involved you implying getting rid of the effects naturally instead of torturing yourself like this.
Distracted again at the idea, you imagine getting up and kissing Luke, pressing your body against him the way it craved. You imagined him pinning you to the wall, ripping your ruined pants and shoving his cock into you at a brutal pace, giving you everything you wanted, craved, needed right now.
Stars, you were on the edge of orgasm just thinking about it, clenching and relaxing your thighs rhythmically, hips doing tiny, almost imperceptible circles on your seat.
But you caught yourself before you could finish; you couldn't see your way out of it. You barely knew Luke, no matter how much you were into him, so you couldn't muster the strength to ask him if he'd consider it– if he'd consider you. You might die from this before you gave in, you thought. Maybe literally. You reluctantly uncross your legs, denying yourself release, and shifted in your chair.
"Fuck," Luke whines, suddenly across from you in the pilot's seat. "Don't do that."
"Do what?" you breathe. His close proximity is taunting you, and when you look over at him, his head is thrown back against the seat. He's absentmindedly touching himself, rutting his still-clothed cock against his hand as his hips jerk every so often, like it's not even on purpose but on pure instinct.
Animalistic.
"When you," Luke squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, "when you sit like that, I can, uhm–"
It's your turn to be a bit snappy with him. You're more than uncomfortable and there's no getting around it now. Mere moments earlier, you still thought you could ignore the problem and it would go away, but now Luke is grabbing at his cock over his pants right in front of you. Fuck it.
"Spit it out, Skywalker," you say, giving in and letting your own hand snake down your torso to cup your heat, pressing your wet trousers and panties against your pussy.
"Can smell how turned on you are when you open your legs," he rushes out.
"Oh," you breathe, barely above a whisper. It makes sense. Enclosed spaces. No longer the open field of flowers to mask the scent of your arousal or of his sweat.
When you think of it, your hips grind harder against your hand and the chair, and you let out a moan, frustrated, self-conscious, but unable to hold back any longer.
At this, Luke suddenly keens. His hips give one, two, three little jerks, and he bites his lip in an effort to stifle his own noises, his whole body tensing, blue eyes rolling back as he very obviously came in his pants, a wet spot forming on his trousers.
"Did you–" you go to inquire, but think better of it. It's obvious what just happened. "Did it help?" you ask instead. Your face is burning with embarrassment and intense arousal. The look on Luke's face when he cums is not something you ever intend to forget.
"No," Luke sighs, "no, I'm still– it's still– I think we can't get rid of it on our own. It... it's worse than before."
When you don't say anything, he keeps talking.
"Really want you," Luke says softly, and then he's sliding off his seat, moving to kneel right in front of you. His hands come to rest on your thighs, gently spreading your legs further open. Your eyes have to be as wide as saucers when he kisses your inner knee and inhales deeply before pulling away.
"Please? It's hurting you, too, isn't it?" he asks, his gorgeous blue eyes looking up at you, begging you silently.
In more ways than one, you think. You're being haunted by all the complications of this, no matter how badly you want him. You could fall in love with him, but Luke doesn't owe you anything; you're not dating, you've never even had a conversation longer than ten minutes before this week.
He doesn't even owe you this, and yet he's offering to give it to you.
"Yes," you breathe shakily, "I want you too."
No sooner are the words out of your mouth than Luke is pulling on the belt loops of your pants. "Take them off," he whines, and you rush, shoving your trousers off in haste. It feels good to give in to the effects of the pollen, feels right. You mind gets clouded, thinking only of Luke's skin on yours.
The flowers must be similarly affecting Luke, because before you can divest yourself of your panties, Luke's shoving his face against your clothed pussy, tonguing you lewdly over your already ruined undergarments. The feeling is amplified by whatever the two of you inhaled earlier, and you throw your head back, your hips leaving the chair as you squirm, at the mercy of the mess of a man on his knees in front of you.
"You're soaked," Luke moans against your cunt. Your mind is empty, filled with the base desire to feel his mouth against your bare cunt, and you shove your panties off your legs hurriedly. Luke helps, yanking them down.
"Oh," he whines, "These are so pretty." He's holding your wet undergarment up and staring like he's won a prize, momentarily distracted by the lace trim and the smell of you on them.
"We ruined them," he laments. "I'll get you new ones, bunny."
Luke doesn't give you time to respond, or to react to the new nickname he's given you, before he's practically pushing his face against your cunt. He doesn't hesitate; there's no teasing, no build-up, just the feeling of his tongue firm against you, starved in a way you've never felt before.
You can't help but writhe on his tongue. At the start, you try to avoid fisting your hands in his pretty blonde hair, but you can only hold yourself back for mere moments before you're tugging at him, pushing his face into your cunt and grinding your hips across his mouth.
And Luke likes it, moans into your cunt below you, panting. His big blue eyes find yours when you tug particularly hard and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter. He's doing his best to get as close as humanly possible to you, too, grabbing your thighs and pulling you forward onto his mouth, the wet sound of your cunt urging him on. He licks and sucks on your clit, and you sob.
It's heady. It's disgusting. It's going to make you cum. And somehow, he knows.
"Yeah?" he barely pulls away to answer you, "You like that?"
"Luke," you cry, pushed over the edge, grinding against his face as you let the aftershocks overtake your body, expecting your body to relax as usual into the bliss of the afterglow.
Except, the desire doesn't fade. The symptoms don't go away. If anything, they've intensified, and you moan frustratedly. The orgasm Luke has given you on any other day would have sated you completely, but not now.
Luke looks wrecked on his knees before you, pupils blown so wide that his eyes look dark. His mouth shines with your release, his cheeks a bright red.
You give into your urges.
Sliding off the chair, you situate yourself so you're also on your knees on the floor of the ship with him. You lean over, crawling into his lap, and claim his mouth, kissing him the way you've only ever dreamed you might one day. It's the first time you've kissed, you realize somewhat embarrassingly, mind reeling that he's had his lips on your pussy before your mouth.
"That was so good. You're so good," you compliment him between kisses, and he lights up at the praise, smiling against your mouth, hips grinding against yours, and you can feel how hard he is.
"D'you feel better?" Luke hesitates, almost like he's too nervous to ask.
You shake your head. "No...I-I need more."
"Me too," he answers.
"Let me help you?" you ask, trailing a hand over his cock, hard and thick in his pants. He shudders and bucks his hips, nodding.
You're quick to pull him from the confines of his pants, underwear just as soaked as yours was from his earlier orgasm. You can't even think to tease him about it though, because his cock is gorgeous. Long and pretty, flushed so much it must be painful– you know it is, just as much as your cunt aches to have him inside you.
You meant to take him as quickly as you could, to satiate the pollen, to cure yourself of the beyond intense desire you feel. You don't mean to toy with him, but you can't help it, you're mesmerized. The way his cock is leaking precum makes you stop and just watch, letting him fuck your hand, twisting your wrist a bit at the tip to make him moan and keen and cry out and– and– 
He's cumming again, all over his open pants, all over his shirt, all over your hand. You've never seen anything like it. Your cunt twitches and flutters around nothing as you watch him finish.
His little noises, his "ah, haah, mh!" sounds almost send you over the edge.
"Oh, baby. There’s so much,” you gasp, eyes wide at the way he's literally dripping with his own spend. His cock refuses to soften, twitching in your hand even as you pause your ministrations– the pollen has completely eradicated his refractory period.
"I needa be inside you right now, please," Luke begs.
By now the feeling inside of you is debilitating too, impossible to ignore. You rip your own shirt off, pawing at Luke's clothing that's stained with his cum and help him take everything off before you're quickly straddling him, pinning him to the floor.
Selfishly, you wish you had time to marvel at his body, to slowly worship him, to mark his abdomen with love bites and kisses instead of jumping to this point, but the need for him is overwhelming. You sink down onto his cock, and you feel like the air has been punched out of your lungs.
"F-fuck!" Luke exclaims as he feels the tight heat of your pussy clench around him for the first time, overwhelmed. You would love to take your time with this one day, too, you realize as you look down at him. He's cute beneath you, staring up at you adoringly, eyes darting from where his cock is buried inside of you, to your tits, to your face. Maybe he'd react well to being teased, but it isn't the time.
And the way he's desperately thrusting his hips up into you now isn't so bad, either. His hands grip your hips, fucking you on his dick as you grind down on him, the two of you working in tandem.
You don't know if it's because it's Luke, or if it's because of the pollen, or a little bit of both, but you feel amazing right now; there's a comfortable warmth spreading throughout your body, and everywhere Luke touches you feels addicting. The pace is fast and rough and perfect.
You may never get this again, you realize. You've got to make the most of it.
"So pretty," you tell him. "Look so good like this."
Luke moans underneath you, his breathing shallow and stuttered, hips never ceasing to roll perfectly against you. You notice the way his gaze continues to linger on your breasts and can't help yourself.
"Touch me," you whimper, pulling his hands from their place on your hips to your tits. "You like them, don't you? Seen the way you look at them."
Luke practically worships your breasts, running his hands along your body.
"You're perfect," he whines. "A-all of you. Feel like a dream around my– uhm, uh! L-like you're meant for me."
The idea does you in. "Oh, oh god," you cry out, clenching on his cock and cumming for the second time in a matter of minutes. It wracks through your body, making you shudder and collapse against Luke, who redoubles his efforts, holding your body against his as his hips continue to fuck against yours, which is all the better for you; you can't believe it, but you still feel that your body needs more.
It's obvious that Luke is losing all concentration, lost in his own pleasure. He chases his own orgasm, rutting into your body like a man possessed, until you feel him erupt inside of you.
“Ccan't stop cumming..." he whines as you feel his cock twitch in your cunt, and now you're dripping in a different way than before, "Again, bunny, I n-need it again.”
"Fuck yes, me too," you cry out.
No sooner have the words left your mouth than Luke is flipping the two of you over, throwing your legs around his waist. You cross your legs behind him, drawing him even closer, and throw your hips back towards him, desiring to take everything he can give you.
He gasps sharply as he sheathes himself inside you again, overstimulated, but still absolutely insatiable.
"Does it hurt?" you ask, your own pussy sure to be sore soon, you knew.
"A l-little but it feels s' good," he whines. "Can't stop. Don't wanna stop."
"Then don't, baby. Fuck me hard," you insist.
He listens, his pace brutal, completely drunk on your pussy. Under any other circumstances you'd want to tease him for it, but you were much the same for him. His moans were relentless, whining and gasping at every thrust as you ran your nails down his back, clinging to him. One of his pretty hands comes to play with your swollen clit, rubbing against you gently but firmly.
"Y'like it?" Luke asks.
"So much," you answer. And then, because you're feeling a bit brave; "Feel like such a slut f'you," you say, sultry, hardly above a whisper.
Luke's eyes go wide for a second before he suddenly kisses you deeply.
"Y'wanna be my slut? Is that it?" he asks against your mouth.
"Yeah," you cry out as his cock perfectly hits that most sensitive spot inside of you.
"That's really hot," he whines. And then, like a silly little afterthought, "We're kinda both sluts right now," he huffs out with a laugh and you can't help but to smile as you kiss him again.
Hardly thinking anymore, you kiss at his neck, yet again wishing in a possessive way that you could mark him more permanently, but this would do for now. Luke shudders against you, crying out.
"Ah, oh, m' c-close. Y'gonna make me cum again for you, bunny."
"Yeah? Good," you say, and grab a handful of his beautiful blonde hair, tilting his head back so he's looking at you, "Want you to cum inside me again."
"Oh, unh, I ccan't hold it," he babbles, "cumming."
Luke sloppily ruts into you as he finishes; there's so much it's practically spilling out of you. He's falling apart, and you are too, following him over the edge mere seconds later.
You can sense that the pollen's effect is waning, but it's not yet gone from either of your systems. Luke's cock, despite having just pumped you full of cum, remains hard inside your pussy. You still ache for another orgasm, not yet content.
"Oh," Luke whines as he shifts inside of you, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
"Baby?" you ask, "are you okay?"
"Uhn," he chokes out, "yyeah, just, oh, ffuck, sensitive s'all."
"Just one more, baby, it's gonna feel so good. One more time," you coax, despite your own aches and pains.
This time, it's much gentler; not romantic, not quite, it still feels like there's an urgency, but the two of you are well-worn out, bodies nearly giving out despite the influence of the pollen; his cock oversensitive and your cunt full to the brim of him.
Luke presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you freeze, just for a split second. It shouldn't change things, but it does. It's not the time to be caught up in the logistics of all this, but your mind is beginning to be released from the brain fog caused by the flowers and suddenly there's nothing else to think about.
He must sense something about the change in your behavior, because he holds you close, and rocks into you softer. It makes you like him even more, makes you so fond of him you could cry. You don't. Instead, you pull his face towards yours and let yourself kiss him tenderly in return, unbearably erotic, tracing his skin as you moan quietly into each other's mouths, a mixture of sensitivity and pleasure mingling.
It's not long before the two of you are close to cumming again, and in a moment of greed and blind arousal, you pull him closer by his hair and bite and suck passionately at his collarbone, knowing it will bloom into a beautiful, dark mark that he'll hopefully remember you by, at least for a while. He liked it earlier, you remember. And he likes it now, you observe. Luke absolutely melts, gasps and moans delightedly, and spills inside of you for a third time, triggering your own orgasm as you clench around him.
Finally, you feel spent. Your cunt flutters with aftershocks, but there's no uncontrollable lust accompanied with it anymore. Luke slips out of you, his cock softening at last. The two of you lay on the floor of the transport for a quiet moment, breathing together, your muscles only now feeling the burn of your exertion.
Reality has set back in.
"I'm sorry," you blurt out when you can finally think of anything to say, grabbing your clothes from the discarded pile nearby and holding them in front of your nude frame, as if there was anything Luke hadn't seen that evening.
Luke, who's been lounging on the duristeel floor quite comfortably, sits up and furrows his brows.
"Sorry? Why?"
You look at him pointedly, and gesture vaguely. "Kind of a mess, isn't it?"
"Oh, we can clean up," Luke says, his mild confusion obvious.
"I... I don't know if I meant literally," you say slowly, "I mean, the whole mission has been a mess. I'm a mess. This is a mess."
"I don't think you're a mess," Luke wagers, his tone careful yet reverent, and it shakes you. "and I don't think this mission has been all that terrible either. 'Cept for Hoth, really, but that's besides the point."
You're silent. The air might as well have been punched out of your lungs.
"If you want to pretend all this didn't happen, that's fine," Luke continues, "but I like you, and– and if you feel the way I feel, maybe you'd think about going on a date sometime? After we find a planet to put this stupid base on?"
Something in you relaxes, despite the fact that your heart is pounding. "Yeah. Yeah, I- I like you too. We can do that," you can't hide your smile.
"This is going to make a real funny story one day," Luke says, smiling back. "I told you. Adventure."
"Yeah, well... I don't know if we should put it in the mission report."
Luke actually laughs then. It's a sound you hope you get to hear for the rest of your life.
"Share the sonic?" he asks, "You weren't kidding about this mess," he says, gesturing to your shared fluids on both of you.
"That tiny shower? We'll be pressed against each other like sardines," you tease. "I'll probably slip and fall and break my ass."
"I'll catch you."
"Well then, how could I say no?" you wink.
"I guess I'll see you in there," he jokes back, starting to walk down the small corridor to the refresher. When you join him, you were right, there's barely space for the two of you to even turn around comfortably, but you wouldn't change a thing.
“One more thing," you say as you step inside, "There's no way in hell we can put the base here.”
Luke sighs, an over-exaggerated thing, and pretends to roll his eyes.
“Hoth it is.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
a/n: holy shit guys. I finally did it. two years in my mind. three days to write. here it is. I hope you love it.
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a-d-nox · 4 months
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what's a venus return?
did you know that you can check more than just your sun's return? any time a planet transits and becomes exactly conjunct your planet (it is in the exact sign and degree it was when you were born), you undergo a planetary return. venus returns happen roughly every 2 years at a maximum (unless there is a retrograde then it could be about 11 months that you undergo the return). my venus return happened this past weekend so here we are continuing my previous series.
but what can a venus return chart show you?
your romantic life. who you can attract / are likely to fall in love with. how your beauty evolves. sympathy you need. pleasures you have. the art/creative work you can make. your ability to provide self-love / how you can best practice it. harmony you will find. compromises you need to make. how your aesthetic can shift. entertainment you seek. what you will value. luxury items you splurge on. where your laziness originates. how you can be more sensual.
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sun
assumption that others crush on you, aesthetic others identify with you, youthfulness, attractiveness, attention from potential suitors, entertainment you seek and/or provide others, what you feel you deserve from others / the universe, what makes you different from others romantically / aesthetically, development of beauty, dignity regarding your appearance, awareness of your looks, objects that bring you joy / pleasure, validation you receive, and/or how express your self in terms of fashion / beauty
moon
emotional responses to romantic situations, loving/jealous instincts, how you show you care, romantic comfort zone, feminine aesthetic - masculine/male gaze, how your childhood effects the romantic partners you seek, fertility, how your beauty/aesthetic adapts to trends, how you breasts change/develop, romantic life habits/trends, and/or comfortability in your space
mercury
romantic communication, love language, physical touch, words of affirmation, talking phases, the creative mind, perception of beauty, creative writing, social media aesthetic/entertainment, flirty mannerisms/gestures, love defying reason, romantic change, forgetfulness that leads to laziness, romantic gossip, romance/smutty reads, self-care routine, and/or youthfulness
venus
romantic experiences, attraction, beauty, pleasures, artistic ability/projects, self-love, divine femininity, sharing romantic feelings/gestures, your aesthetic, entertainment you seek, romantic values, receiving gifts, luxury items you desire, and/or romantic sensuality
mars
romantic passion, desires, romantic confidence, creative ambition, romantic preferences, sex, jealousy, romantic competitiveness, impulsive romantic behavior, sensuality, self-assurance in your beauty, divine masculinity, masculine aesthetic - feminine/female gaze, assertiveness in a romantic connection, dominance, romantic/creative activities, sensual energy, sexuality, romantic combativeness, and/or romantic/creative motivation
jupiter
romantic luck/abundance, wealth of suitors, wealth of luxury / things that are pleasurable, romantic/creative success, romantic opportunities, topical popularity, expansion of wardrobe, entertainment knowledge, honesty in romantic relationships, romantic wisdom, ease in romance, romantic blessings, romantic optimism, justice regarding previous relationships, self exploration, artistic vision, romantic/self devotion, study of aestheticism, self-growth, and/or romantic fulfillment
saturn
romantic/creative achievement and mastery, romantic challenges/struggles, quality time, karmic romances, romantic life lessons, how your paternal figure affects you self-esteem / romantic relationships, fears regarding love, insecurities, romantic guilt, romantic delays, romantic limitations, how past romantic relationships effect new ones, self-love deficiencies, romantic practicality, romantic solitude, romantic maturity, romantic detachment, consistency you show others, grudges against competition / past lovers, and/or your relationship history
uranus
friends to lovers, dating apps, movies as a form of entertainment, sudden romantic relationship, what makes you unique in comparison to others in the dating/artistic scene, how you don't follow the beauty trends, romantic independence/freedom, open relationships, unexpected dates or contact from a suitor, shocking declarations, and/or social media fans/followers
neptune
kindness you show others, artistic creativity, glamorous appearance, sensitivity to others feelings, selflessness in a romantic relationship, escapism via love, intuitive design, use of imagination, makeup / what is presented to society, romantic mysteries, romantic confusion, evasion of commitment, self-love mantras, transcending the norms of aestheticism, fascination with appearance/design, and/or thoughts on your ideal appearance
pluto
glow-up for the self / closet, romantic power, sex, destruction of the old self, rebirth of beauty (hence "the birth of venus"), romantic intensity, magnetism experienced in the romantic realm, romantic infatuation/obsession, seductive performances, romantic manipulation, and/or closet purge
1h
aesthetic you identify with, outward/physical appearance, romantic outlook/approach, beauty, confidence, creative/romantic beginnings, initiating relationships, flirty mannerisms, presence, individuality, and/or how passionate you appear
2h
money you spend on looks, how much effort you put into your appearance, possessions you adore, self-worth/self-love, romantic values, emotional security/insecurity, romantic stability, gift giving/receiving, and/or romantic resources
3h
romantic communication, attractiveness of your speaking voice, what people enjoy about your voice, the creative mind, romantic thoughts, creative perception, opinions on fashion/beauty/love, romantic interests, romantic gossip, romance/smutty literature, appearances on social media, phone calls with romantic interests, visits with romantic suitors, and/or dates
4h
aesthetic of your home, how your family effects your relationships (particularly maternal figure), harmony your inner child seeks in connections, romantic emotions, self-care/self-love, and/or how where you live effects your relationships/appearance
5h
thoughts on children, childishness in romance relationships, pettiness, creative talent, romantic drama, romantic risk-taking, how you react to attention from others, short-term romantic relationships, creative hobbies, romantic pleasures, what suitors bring you, romantic get aways, and/or romantic joy
6h
romantic/creative routine, acts of services, physical effort made to make your body appear as it does, your romantic duties, self-improvement, romantic/creative consistency, hygiene habits, beauty routine, romantic innocence, and/or how your diet effects your appearance
7h
long-term romantic relationships, marriage/partnership, attraction to others, attractiveness to others, ability to charm others, romantic conflicts, marital/nda/pre-nuptial contracts, romantic affairs, those who openly show they are jealous of you, and/or romantic equality
8h
physical transformation, aesthetic/wardrobe transformation, how close you get to others, romantic changes, shared finances between spouses, foreplay/seduction, intimacy you have with another person, secret relationships, romantic mysteries, and/or romantic trauma
9h
romantic wisdom, romantic beliefs/philosophy, perspective in romances / creative works, love languages, how your in-laws see you, romantic ethics, entertainment media/television/interviews, and/or education involving love/creation/aesthetics/appearance/fashion
10h
how the public sees you, relationship status, romantic reputation, creative fame, appearance goals, romantic/creative mission, romantic expertise, and/or romantic/creative achievements
11h
friends to lovers, romantic desires, uniqueness of internal beauty, social awareness in terms of collective beauty, influence you have over fashion and beauty, romantic/creative manifestations, wishes for romance, romantic ideals, debutants, romantic companions, artistic clubs/organizations, and/or costume parties
12h
healing from past romantic connections, hidden desires, romantic karma, beauty sleep, how your appearance/romances effect mental health, solitude/isolation from others, people who are secretly jealous of you, illusions of joy/pleasure, romantic fears, romantic endings, escapism via romance or art, romantic/creative self-sabotage, how past romances effect present/future ones, romantic delays, and/or romantic restrictions
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ckret2 · 4 months
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Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!
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The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:
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It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.
####
Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"
A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."
"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."
"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"
"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."
"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.
Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"
Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.
"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.
"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."
"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"
"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."
Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."
"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.
Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"
"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."
Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"
Bill blinked. "Who?"
"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."
Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."
"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."
"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"
"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.
Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.
Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"
"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"
Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"
Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.
Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."
"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.
"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.
Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.
The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.
"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."
"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."
"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.
"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.
But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."
Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.
Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.
"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."
Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"
Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"
Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"
The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"
Mabel asked, "Have we...?"
Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"
Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."
"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"
Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"
Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."
"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.
"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"
"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.
"Donations?"
Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.
Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."
Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"
Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."
"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"
Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.
"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"
"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.
"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."
"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."
"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"
Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"
Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"
Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"
"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor  and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"
"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"
Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.
Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"
"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.
Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."
"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.
"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.
He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."
Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.
Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.
Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?
Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"
Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"
"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"
"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"
"English class, I know."
Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."
Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.
"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"
"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."
"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"
Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"
Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"
"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade  probably didn't hurt, did it."
Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"
"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"
Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.
"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"
Dipper regretted this conversation completely.
"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"
Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"
A pause. "I think I need help!"
"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.
The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.
A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.
Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"
"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."
Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."
"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".
Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."
Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"
"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."
Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.
"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.
"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.
Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.
By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.
And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.
"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."
Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."
Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.
They shut the door.
"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"
"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."
Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"
"Please."
They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"
"Hm?"
"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"
Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"
####
A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"
"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"
"Uh—yeah, why—?"
"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"
Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"
A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"
Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"
"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."
Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"
"Eh, I'm not picky."
"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"
Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"
Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."
"Hey."
Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.
"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."
As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"
"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."
Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"
The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"
"Nope!"
Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.
"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."
"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.
Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.
Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"
"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.
Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.
She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."
"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.
Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."
"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."
Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."
"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."
Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."
Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."
"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."
"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"
"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."
"No you didn't!"
"Yes I did!"
"When?"
Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"
Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"
"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"
"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."
"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.
The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.
Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another. 
Someone knocked on the door.
"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.
Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—
The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.
Or. Or.
He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.
As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.
Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.
####
He made seven small children cry.
####
Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.
He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."
"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."
"Good for her!"
Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"
"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."
Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."
"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."
"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."
"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."
They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."
Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."
Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"
####
During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."
"And...?"
"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."
"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"
"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."
Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."
"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."
"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"
Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."
And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.
####
Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."
"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"
"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."
Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"
"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."
Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...
Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.
Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.
Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.
Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.
But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"
"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.
Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"
A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"
Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.
Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"
"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."
Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"
"Why?"
"I wanna talk!"
"No."
"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."
Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.
"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"
Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.
Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"
Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"
Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"
Ford Frowned.
"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"
Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.
Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"
Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."
Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.
Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."
"I heard 'we like you'!"
"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"
"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."
Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."
"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."
Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.
"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.
Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.
"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."
"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."
"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"
Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."
Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."
He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.
"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"
Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"
"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."
"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"
"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"
Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."
"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"
Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"
She was doing what? "No. Why?"
"She's so nice."
"You just said that."
"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."
Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.
Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.
He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."
"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."
Ford gingerly shut the window.
Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."
"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"
"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."
"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."
"You know what I mean."
Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.
He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.
He stared into the dark after it.
A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.
But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.
Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.
The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.
Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."
"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."
"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.
"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."
Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.
But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.
(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)
Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.
Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"
"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"
"Huh." Well. That made his night.
"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."
"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.
"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"
Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"
"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"
Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."
Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"
The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.
####
Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.
Bill was nauseous.
He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor. 
Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.
But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.
When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say. 
(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)
(No. Of course it was an accident.)
He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.
He missed home.
####
(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)
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hausofneptune · 2 months
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THE CANCER ARCHETYPE
﹕PLANETARY RULER: MOON
﹕ELEMENT: WATER
﹕MODALITY: CARDINAL
﹕POLARITY: NOCTURNAL
﹕SYMBOL: THE CRAB
﹕BODY PART RULERSHIP: THE CHEST, BREASTS, AND STOMACH
﹕PLANETARY DIGNITIES: MOON IN CANCER (DOMICILE), JUPITER IN CANCER (EXALTED), SATURN IN CANCER (DETRIMENT), MARS IN CANCER (FALL)
↝ cancer is defined by it's emotional nature, and let me preface, cancer (alongside the water and fire signs) being emotional is not a bad thing. we're conditioned by society, our parents, our friends, etc. to believe that expressing emotions let alone having them is something that should be shamed, and i feel like that plays a very big role in how cancer is regarded. i mentioned this in the gemini archetype post, but some people will attribute negative stereotypes to certain signs and unironically refer to those stereotypes when describing what they believe is the "true nature" of the sign. in cancer's case, they're usually described as moody, maternal crybabies. and i would be remiss to not acknowledge the very obvious fact that most cancerian stereotypes are just rooted in misogyny and the collective distain for vulnerability and emotional expression.
↝ in my opinion, cancer is a very underestimated sign. people tend to get hung up on the emotional aspect of cancer, which is an integral part of cancer's archetype, but i feel like it overshadows the fact that cancer is cardinal, and therefore by nature a very ambitious, action-oriented sign. alongside the moon's rulership, cancer has the innate ability to gift life to new ideas and concepts, and they typically have an extremely deep, intimate connection to their creations, whether it be their careers, children, relationships/friendships, homes, etc. their deep emotional bond to these things is where their nurturing nature comes from. i don't want to reinforce the "cancers are the moms of the friend group" narrative because i know a lot of cancerians hate that lmao, so while cancerian energy can manifest in that way, it can also just be indicative of being protective (or even defensive) of one's own creativity, professional endeavors, or private life.
↝ cancerian energy is very guarded, and they usually maintain relationships with a select group of long-time friends and family. while this is a sign that's regarded as being friendly and receptive, they prefer the familiarity of the company they keep over connecting with new people and building new relationships with them. because they are guarded in relation to their loved ones and their passions, they can become volatile when they feel those things are being impeded upon. it's one of the reasons why i always visualize cancerians as al from fullmetal alchemist, they have the capacity to fuck you up, but inside they're just sweet little babies. cancer is also the youngest of the water signs, and i feel like that, paired with the moon's influence, is why one of the main lessons that cancer is here to learn is to experience their emotions without being controlled by them. they need to master the ability to navigate through life with balance between their heart and their head, instead of relying too heavily on one or the other.
↝ cancer, alongside the rest of the water signs, is not afraid to feel, and as i mentioned, that is a beneficial characteristic to have in a world full of people who are numb and jaded. but contrary to popular belief, cancerians usually are not the type to be openly emotional due to their guarded nature. they usually reserve their vulnerability for the tight-knit circle they keep. overall, cancerian energy is by nature very empathetic, creative, and intuitive. they're one of those signs that have a knack for being able to read a room and move accordingly. they do very well in leadership roles, and tend to be very direct and even authoritative at times in these positions, all the while remaining emotionally receptive to the needs of the people that they work with. cancer is an extremely resilient, responsible, and kind-hearted sign, do not let the mischaracterizations fool you.
﹕CANCER CELEBRITIES: ariana grande, chloë bailey, conor mcgregor, harrison ford, jacob elordi, jaden smith, kali uchis, kevin hart, lana del rey, lil kim, margot robbie, maya hawke, meryl streep, mike tyson, missy elliott, princess diana, priyanka chopra, robin williams, saweetie, selena gomez, solange, storm reid, taylor russell
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astrosky33 · 1 year
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭/𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬
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◉ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅɪɢɴɪᴛɪᴇs
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✘ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬
Aries
saturn is in fall in aries which causes watered down energy and can indicate challenges surrounding the planet
Cancer
saturn is in detriment in cancer which is the most challenging of the 5 astrological dignities
Leo
a leo saturn is in detriment (same as a cancer saturn)
✘ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬
1st house
people with this placement will have challenges maintaining their sense of self/identity
4th house
people with this placement struggle a lot with their emotions, family life, and understanding others emotions
5th house
people with this placement will struggle a lot to find joy in life, things that pleasure them, and with feeling left out even in situations that they aren’t
✓ 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬
Capricorn
capricorn is primarily ruled by saturn
Aquarius
aquarius is saturn’s secondary ruling sign
Libra
saturn is exalted in libra creating stronger and more positive energies
✓ 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬
7th house
this placement makes you highly disciplined and can help you to live a harmonious life with everyone
10th house
this placement indicates career success (although this will likely come at an older age it’s nearly guaranteed). typically these people have a very strong work ethic as well
12th house
many people perceive this as a bad house but it is not. in planetary joy saturn is happy in the 12th house. since they rule over many of the same things you will have more expertise in this area of life by the time you’re 30 than most because this placement significantly increases spiritual growth
⟶ 12th house meanings
⟶ saturn meanings
𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬/𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬
The signs/houses not mentioned can be easy or challenging depending on how you yourself deal with the energies
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𝗺𝘆 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗼𝗻
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© 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝
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soberpluto · 9 months
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Explaining Dignities: Detriment (Sun, Moon, Mercury and Venus)
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2nd post on dignities! Hope you enjoy 🤩
Context: In Hellenistic (traditional) astrology, planets in detriment (or debilitated planets) are planetary rulers who sit in its contrary sign (the opposite of its domicile sign), such as Moon in Capricorn. They are said to be like foreigners in a land where they don’t speak the same language and are not familiar with the resources available in that place. Because of that, they cannot express their personality well and find success easily, as they need double the effort to accomplish their goals. With time, they can learn to make the best out of what’s given, but things will not be as easy as with exalted planets or in domicile. Planets in detriment tend to create delays and challenges in the house they occupy.
*Mind that below I’m speaking metaphorically of “house” as the SIGN the planet is exalted, and not the astrological house (1st, 2nd, 3rd, etc.) as such.*
Also, my intention is not to "condemn" people with these placements. As with everything, there are positive and negative interpretations, but for the purpose of this topic, I'll be centering on the challenges only.
Sun in Aquarius: When the Sun is in Aquarius, his powerful and charismatic personality feels threatened. He’s at odds because he cannot be a creative leader and a community ally at the same time. He trades his uniqueness for a sense of belonging and feels like an outsider when he doesn’t achieve this. The Sun is frustrated, as he’s pushed aside from the limelight. He has to accept that his host prefers transcendence and unity over fun, passion, competition and recreation… the things he loves! Aquarius tries to get rid of his need for recognition and superiority in an attempt to make him fit into the masses, and while the Sun finds some sort of value in it, he misses his followers, as he feels underappreciated and misunderstood. After all, he lives for the drama, the theaters! His charisma is of no use in this gray and futuristic laboratory, where he has to learn to get in touch with his shine and brilliance from a mental place instead of his heart. His natural self-expression and emotionality need to be contained and transformed into scientific and innovative concepts that will help humankind, not amaze, or entertain it, as he wishes to.
Personality keywords: detached, stubborn, arbitrary, isolated, alienated, misfit, misunderstood, cold, unemotional.
Moon in Capricorn: When Capricorn receives the Moon, he finds her sensitivity too overwhelming and disturbing. He finds it hard to tolerate her fragility and self-expression, as he wants to keep things under control and practical. Facing drama makes him nervous, so he tries to avoid anything disturbing the Moon may complain about; this creates distance, insecurity and discomfort between hosts. The Moon feels misunderstood, lonely, and alienated from what makes her happy. In this ancient and lonely place, she’s gloomy because she cannot create a cozy and hearty home, where people feel welcomed and she’s able to take care of them without feeling judged or weak. Since she’s ripped away from emotional closeness, depression and exhaustion enter right away, as her host seems to be obsessed with duties, work, and material goals. She does not understand why life has to be so cold and serious. What is she supposed to do with all this vulnerability and depth in a place that sees them as undesirable?
Personality keywords: stern, lonely, gloomy, distant, restricted, pessimistic, overly ambitious, materialistic, incredulous.
Mercury in Sagittarius: Sagittarius is adventurous, expansive and preoccupied with the larger picture, so when Mercury lands into this spacious and disorganized household, he’s overwhelmed and lost. He wants to rearrange things and be as scrupulous as he can so he can make sense out of it all, but in here he has no idea where to begin, or if it’s even possible! He’s not interested in philosophy or spirituality as his host does, as he prefers facts and logical explanations to understand the world. Where he comes from, knowledge cannot beat experience, contrary the abstract and diluted things he finds in this amusement park. Because there are no clear guidelines, books or archives to find his answers, he has to turn into his underused intuition and sense of faith to find clarity. His host just wants him to be excited and have fun without worrying about the minor details! Therefore, his valued brain power seems to not be as useful as before, making him feel ungrounded and confused most of the time. He finds out that it’s better to just go with the flow and ends up sacrificing his methodical approaches for disorder, recklessness and impulsiveness because he gets tired of trying to do things objectively and rationally.
Personality keywords: blunt, distracted, careless, reckless, unclear, outspoken, non-sensical, wanderer, disorganized, lacks attention, messy, inconsistent, excitable.
Mercury in Pisces: Because Pisces is boundless and diluted, Mercury experiences a similar effect of anxiety and frustration as before when he enters the watery and nebulous chambers of his host’s homebase. Mercury needs libraries, schools and constant communication and interactions to feel happy, but in here, he feels alone in the middle of nowhere and things are just too mystical to be digested with common sense. He finds it hard to navigate the temple of the unseen realms, as he’s used to approaching life from his scientific rationale. There are so many things that don’t make sense here! Yes, there are interesting concepts in here and while he learns a thing or two, he loses track of applicable information for “the real world” and inadvertently turns impractical because the knowledge he stumbles upon can only live in the lands of the intangible, dreams or fairytales. He cannot differentiate between illusions and lies from real facts. Because there’s no impartial or logical point of reference, he frequently may be caught up by deceitful communication. His confusion can drive him towards victimhood or self-undoing tendencies, in an attempt to escape what he cannot cope with logically (which can be a lot!).
Personality keywords: disoriented, deceitful, confused, lost, mentally ill, escapist, unreal, delusional, self-absorbed, distracted, martyr, unreal, highly Influenceable.
Venus in Aries: When the planet of love, beauty and harmony enters this host’s home, she feels threatened and uninvited. She feels too weak and scared in a place where war and blood are the bread of everyday. She does not tolerate violence well, but this is what is expected of her in here. Venus understands that she must defend herself to survive, and although she has the resources to do that, she feels unhappy because her soft, passive, gentle and kind approach towards life cannot be expressed without being seen as a liability, a weakness. Cooperation and partnerships are hard to maintain here, because her host couldn’t be less interested healthy connections or other people's wellbeing. He only looks out for himself and makes sure Venus knows this! She feels unable to relax because she’s constantly pushed towards violence and exhausting combat. Venus hates so much chaos and egoism! She and her host bump into each other because both want to follow their own agendas. Tension and ego-clashes will surface, especially if her provoked violence goes to extremes. In an attempt to preserve her values, she can lash out unnecessarily or become passive-aggressive because she is constantly irritated or frustrated about her surroundings. After all, the way she's allowed to love is contrary to what she's used to.
Personality keywords: tempestuous, passive-agressive, visceral, contradictory, tense, over sexualized, highly masculine, too controlling or pushy, self-centered, tough love, competes for love, hyper sensitive.
Venus in Scorpio: Although Scorpio values intimacy and emotional depth like Venus, when she enters this hidden cave of mysteries and forbidden things, she becomes overwhelmed and terrified by the darkness she bumps into. Venus is used to thrive in a place of beauty, peace, and relaxation, but in here, her host loves the tenebrous and complicated. She’s left to her own devices and is obligated to find her way out alone. Exploring this realm can feel like a house of horror ride for sweet and innocent Venus! Her host is an enigmatic creature that allures but frightens her, because she’s not able to guess if he’s a friend or an enemy. This is a place where she is forced to find beauty and resilience in the darkest of corners, as daylight is very hard to be seen beneath the ground. She has to become familiar with sorrow and pain too, and she does this by going through constant deaths and rebirths because her need for understanding and closeness drags her to the extremes and into unknown dangers. Venus builds a thick crust around herself to protect her vulnerability. This makes her painfully isolated at times because she will always crave for love and intimacy; a secret she cannot tell. The intensity and uncertainty of this place can make her hyper controlling or mistrusting, but also resilient.
Personality keywords: intense, vengeful, possessive, jealous, secretive, insecure, mind-player, exploitative, dark, uses sex as a weapon, gold digger.
2nd part coming up! Thanks all for reading! 😘
Written by @soberpluto
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miasmaclockworks · 2 months
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Inhale (killk me)
kinito pet au ideas (all mine now)
Pirate au, swap/opposite au, frenzy au, beach vally au, valentines au, broken computer virus (BCV) au, house care au, real virus au, mimic au, best friend au, candyland au, light's out au, time traveler au, steam punk au, ghost au, phasmophobia au, dragon barrier au, librarian au, magical forest au, fruit au, fruit au, furry au, sailor moon au, pride au, obsessed au, ice cream au, midnight starlight au, AHIT au, star collector au, broken heart au, rejected friend au, accepted friend au, Poppy Playtime au, Five Nights At Freddys au, Warrior cats au, Midnight driver, killer au, prince of the night au, pool swimmer, Magical boy au, Critical au, Escape room au, god au, AU god au, Au hunter AU, scream au, Mii au, plane crash au, pilot au, mc donalds worker au, driver au, smile tapes au, nightmare au, night gamer au, artist au, over eater au, roblox au, creator au, caseoh au, wii au, wand au, childhood friend au, possessed au, apple core au, string worm au, drunkie au, caretaker au, love maniac au, drier au, washing machine au, Im a pretty princess au, venting au, among us au, gentle man au, Youtuber au, Actual axolotl au, you are what you eat au, mince meat butcher au, butcher au, doxxed au, sally the witch au, autistic au, ADHD au, Autistic and ADHD au, Motherborn au, alien au, Mother Mother au, soul au, dragon born au, vampire au, vampire hunter au, it was all just a dream? au, sunshine au, digital circus au, clockwork au, gymnastics au, rainbow factory au, twisted and turned au, patchworks au, unseen au, joker au, minimum wage worker au, skinwalker au, kinito darling au, forever and ever, everlasting pain, story teller au, time teller au, zoo keeper au, smiling critter au, truth be told au, rizzler au, farmer au, anthro au, Digital pop up au, backfired au, chef au, cuphead au, BABQFTIM au, carnival au, internet explorer au, kidnapper au, robber au, parental figure au, parent au, father au, apple picker au, trans au, siren au, mermaid au, cloud critters, monster energy au, emo au, goth au, alt goth, prince au, princess au, priest au, reality au, Epic the musical au, bass voice au, prince of the sea au, stranger au, never used au, stranger things au, abandoned au, hazbin hotel au, lemon and lime au, softie au, grunge au, sugar crush au, rainbow friends au, block break friends au, sugar crush au, sweet tooth au, undertale au, heartless au, toxic au, waist au, epic au, error au, fresh au, reaper au, horror au, other sans aus, medical au, high school au, ruby and max au, little horrors au, planter au, plant au, crystal au, glass crystal au, rockstar au, ancient Greek au, mario au, shroomba au, sonic the hedgehog au, snowday au, cave monster au, dinosaur au, game show hoster au, lunar moon au, bloodmoon au, eclipse au, sundrop au, moondrop au, dignity au, angels gaurd au, demons gaurd au, king of hell, king of the sea au, mother nature au, king of the land, landlord au, your boyfriend au, planetary au, leopard gecko au, leopard au, train conductor au, mountain lion au, polar bear au, Mad Scientist au, don't die au, raindrops au, seraph au, always watching au, teacher au, birthday party au, husk au, royal au, gummy bear au, cannibal au, discord au, My little pony au, bumblebee au, cat au, animal au, sweet treat au, warzone au, warframe au, roblox au, unicorn au, factory worker au, you au, dihedra au, pee au, every au I forget, Deleted forever au (not really), sleep tight au, Fire borne, dragon au, mythical animals au, goodbye friend, rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles au, Replicate au, smartie pants au, femboy au, backrooms au, gurlie au, too silly au, silly au, TADC au, lovesick au, grand master au, crazy au, lab monster au, (insert every animal here) au, Monster under your bed au, sloozy au, nightmare monster au, aroace king au, your imagination au, salamander au, desktop pet au, ukagaka au, he knows what you are au, roller blades au, you can run but you can't hide au, poison rain au, dementia au, mr worldwide mr 305 au, anime au, welcome home au, Yume Nikki au, gacha life au, gacha club au, Battle blocks au,
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etherealdiva · 1 year
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Empty houses
here’s a post on the meaning of empty houses and what each one means! Comment below with your placements and if this resonates ✨ I put examples of mine to get a better understanding! Also please be advise that depending which planets you have in your houses (benefic: Jupiter & Venus) and malefic (mars & Saturn) can also indicate what you go through in that house. I for example have mars & Saturn, both malefic planets, in my 6th house so I have had health issues but mars is exalted in Capricorn (my 6th) and Saturn is in its domicile in Capricorn so I was able to overcome those issues and turn those weaknesses into strengths by actually incorporating nutrition & training into my routine. Remember the dignities of your planetary rulers and the aspects do make an impact!
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coven-of-genesis · 10 months
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How to read a birth chart part 2
Click here to read 'How to read a birth chart part 1'
Analyze chart patterns: Look for patterns within the birth chart, such as stelliums (clusters of planets in the same sign), T-squares, grand trines, or yods. Chart patterns provide valuable insights into the individual's inherent strengths, challenges, and potential life themes.
Consider planetary dignity: Explore the concept of planetary dignity, which refers to a planet's strength or weakness based on its zodiac sign placement. Planets in their own signs (domicile) or exalted positions tend to express their energy more harmoniously, while planets in their detriment or fall may face challenges in their expression.
Assess the chart's elemental balance: Examine the distribution of the four elements (fire, earth, air, and water) within the birth chart. A balanced distribution indicates a well-rounded individual, while an imbalance can reveal areas of focus or potential challenges in certain elemental energies.
Explore harmonic charts: Utilize harmonic charts to delve deeper into specific areas of life, talents, and potentials. Harmonic charts, such as the progressed chart or the Navamsa chart in Vedic astrology, provide additional layers of information and insights into various aspects of the individual's life.
Study the asteroids: Consider incorporating the asteroids into your analysis. Asteroids like Chiron, Juno, Vesta, and Pallas Athena add nuance and depth to the interpretation, revealing specific areas of healing, relationships, career, and wisdom.
Use astrology software or online resources: Take advantage of astrology software or online tools that generate detailed birth chart interpretations. These resources can provide additional insights, especially when you're just starting or need a different perspective on certain placements or aspects.
Combine astrology with other modalities: Expand your approach by integrating other modalities, such as psychology, mythology, numerology, or tarot. These complementary disciplines can offer different angles of interpretation and provide a more holistic understanding of the individual's chart.
Study famous birth charts: Analyze the birth charts of well-known individuals to gain insights into how astrological placements manifest in real-life scenarios. Studying the charts of celebrities, historical figures, or people you admire can deepen your understanding of astrology and offer practical examples of chart interpretation.
Seek mentorship or join astrology communities: Consider connecting with experienced astrologers, either through mentorship or participation in astrology communities and forums. Engaging in discussions, seeking guidance, and exchanging insights with fellow practitioners can greatly enhance your skills and broaden your perspective.
Keep learning and practicing: Astrology is a lifelong journey of learning and exploration. Continuously study astrology books, attend workshops, and engage in ongoing self-study. Regularly practice chart readings, reflect on your interpretations, and refine your techniques over time.
Remember, the interpretation of a birth chart is a deeply personal and intuitive process. As you gain knowledge and experience, trust your own unique insights and interpretations while staying open to different perspectives. The more you practice and engage with birth charts, the more refined your reading skills will become.
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talonabraxas · 15 days
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"Lord Surya" ☀ Talon Abraxas
Surya, the Sun, is God incarnate in solar form, a glorious, shining golden orb visible every day. He is Astamurthi, one of the eight forms of Shiva. The Sun alone is the pivot of the entire Universe, the dispeller of darkness, and root cause of the three worlds. He is the deity of great brilliance and is considered the Supreme Soul. There are many names of Lord Surya and each name refers to a particular quality of consciousness - Aditya, Savita, Surya, Mihira, Arka, Prabhakara, Martanda, Bhaskara, Bhanu, Chitrabhanu, Divakara and Ravi.
Surya is the chief of the Navagrahas and is often depicted riding a chariot harnessed by seven horses which represent seven solar rays, seven chakras of the body and seven days of the week.
Surya's sons, Shani and Yama are responsible for the judgment of human life. Shani provides the results of one's deeds during life through appropriate punishments and rewards while Yama grants the results of one's deeds after death.
In Vedic astrology Surya is considered a malefic on account of His hot, dry nature. Surya represents soul, will-power, fame, the eyes, general vitality, courage, kingship, father, authority figures, benevolence, generosity, grandeur, dignity and friendliness.
Surya has the following associations:
Animals: Deer, Tiger, Lion Bird: Goose Gem: Ruby Metals: Copper and Gold Direction: East Food: Wheat Sign: Leo Day: Sunday
In Tantra yoga, Surya, the planetary deity of the Sun, represents the Universal male principal, while Chandra, the Moon, represents the Universal female or shakti principle. Surya is also associated with Agni, the god of fire.
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naavispider · 7 months
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OK OK OK
SO
What if spider was never captured by Quaritch? INSTEAD by some other group of RDA agents. Since Quaritch isn’t there to help him, he’s just at the mercy of the RDA who torture the fuck out of him.
then, quaritch walks past a cell, and locks eyes with a beaten, bloody and bruised boy. Who’s file on the wall reads “Spider Socorro”
Ohhhhhhhh, oh boy.
It had been a lifetime. An endless cycle of day, night, pain and boredom that had stretched on for years, surely. Everyday, Spider found himself wondering if tomorrow would be the last day. If maybe his suffering would finally end with the next round of pain. Some days, he barely had any energy to resist. The last time they'd dragged him to the neauroscanner he'd passed out in their arms on the way. They'd had to inject him with something just to wake him up when it came time to try and prise his mind open. Today was no different. He ate the scrambled eggs that were pushed through the hatch, letting him know it was morning and that a fresh day of torture was upon him. Sometimes they didn't come for him, but that was almost worse. He couldn't sleep because his circadian rhythm was so fucked. He could just sit and stare at the blank white walls of the cell, waiting and wondering. He tried to avoid looking at his reflection because the physical changes he'd gone through since being captured unnerved him. He'd long since given up on the hope of Jake Sully being able to rescue him, but he knew that if any of his family could see him now, they wouldn't recognise him. He almost didn't want to be rescued, so he wouldn't have to deal with the shame of it. At least in the hands of the RDA he didn't have a reputation, he didn't have a personality, he didn't have pride or dignity... He had absolutely nothing of himself to protect. It was the only freedom he was afforded: the freedom to mean nothing. 
💙💞*************************************💞💙
Miles Quaritch had been busy. SInce waking up in his new life, General Ardmore had mission after mission for him and his highly trained recom squad to accomplish in order to further their advancement towards planetary settlement. He enjoyed the field missions the most, which mostly involved hunting the biggest threat the enemy had: Jake Sully. In the six months Quaritch had been on active duty, Sully had evaded detection and it was his job to locate him before the Na’vi could form an actionable defensive strategy against the RDA. With Sully out of the picture, RDA dominance on the planet was inevitable. Which is why Quaritch found himself becoming increasingly frustrated that his efforts were still yielding very few results. 
Sully was in the wind. A different squad had eyes on him a few months back, but allowed him to escape and since then… nothing. His weekly reports to Ardmore were becoming painful, because there was so little to go on. He and his squad had resorted to scouring the jungle themselves in the hopes of just stumbling across someone who knew something. Unsurprisingly, they weren’t getting very far. 
He was currently on his way to a mission briefing in compound C, which was a little way further out of his usual haunts, but there was information from a mining crew that could potentially be important. Na’vi had been spotted near the mining site and there was suspicion they were from Sully’s specific clan. It could be the break they’d been waiting for. 
Compound C was not an easy place to get to - it was on the other side of the mining quarter, and the fastest way was to cross beneath the military sector, through the cells. Quaritch had never been down here before. He’d had very little need, as his squad hadn’t found any Na’vi to detain and interrogate. Mostly, they were for human criminals and deserters. His boots made sharp squeaking noises as he strode down the long corridor of cells. Their clear glass fronts meant he could see in. Most were empty, but the ones that did have people in them had their names demarcated on small plaques next to the controls for the door. Quaritch watched with idle curiously as he passed, until he got almost to the end. 
He saw the boy before he saw anything else. Across one of the final cells in the corridor was a kid, a teenager by the looks of him, though it was truthfully hard to tell. The boy’s eyes flickered up to meet Quaritch’s just as he passed, and something made the Colonel’s whole demeanour stutter. There was something about the boy…
Why was there a child in the cells? Had he been sent on one of the shuttles from Earth? But it was still illegal for children to make the journey. That didn’t make sense anyway - he was too old to have come from Earth recently. 
His face looked like it had been beaten on. Dried blood crusted around a split lip, while sweat and dirt clung to his hairline. He was wearing grey RDA sweatpants and a sweatshirt, but his eyes were a fierce contrast to his appearance. There was fire behind them. Despite their green colouring, something dark blazed beneath the irises, making Quaritch stop in his tracks. The boy didn’t look away. His expression was hardened as if daring Quaritch to antagonise him. 
Quaritch’s eyes flickered to the nameplate on the door, and his breath caught in his throat. 
Miles Socorro. 
Miles… Socorro.
Quaritch returned his astonished gaze to the boy, lost for words. 
The boy - Miles - narrowed his fiery eyes. “What are you looking at?” He demanded roughly. 
Quaritch’s lips were parted in shock, but he took a step towards the glass. “Miles?” 
The kid looked him up and down quickly, surely trying to work out what was going on with Quaritch. “That’s not my name.”
Relief swept through Quaritch’s system, but it was quickly replaced in its entirety by confusion. Was it him or not? His Miles would be about this kid’s age… As far as he knew there were no other human kids on Pandora and there was something about his face… Paz was written into his features. 
“Where did you come from, kid?”
The boy got up slowly, exuding hostility. “What’s it to you?”
The way the kid set his jaw… the way his cheekbones sat… It confirmed it. 
Miles was here. He was in Bridgehead. 
He was right in front of him. 
Quaritch moistened his lips before taking a step back and drawing his best poker face. He needed to get to Ardmore, immediately. 
“Where are you going?” Miles called out as Quaritch turned on his heel. 
Quaritch paused, wanting to reassure, yet too afraid to look back over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”
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servantofthefates · 1 year
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The Problem with How We See Astrology
Astrology is not a science. But both proponents and detractors treat it as if it is.
If it were, each time the Sun is in your Zodiac sign, you should be on top of the world. Every time there is a new moon, you would be undergoing a dramatic rebirth. And as long as you can read your natal chart, then you should know how your entire life would play out.
Because that is what science is. Accurate, precise, demonstrable, undeniable, replicable.
In science, any number of individuals who mix the same amount of the same elements using the same method in the same environment will create the same formula.
That is not what astrology is. One Leo Rising could be the epitome of victory and glory, while another could be the poster child for loserdom and self-pity. Because astrology is not a science.
What it is, is an instrument of the occult. And like everything to do with the occult, it only lends itself to those who have faith in it, those who were born with the gift for it, and those who have the will to wield it.
But since astrology involves numbers, it is easy to fool people into thinking it is a science. If someone comes up with any system, and slaps some angles and degrees on it, we think of it as irrefutable. As Universal law. As the Gospel truth.
And when these systems, such as interceptions, the planetary dignities and asteroids, end up not matching our reality… the majority of us conclude that either astrology is fake, or we are too much of a beginner to understand it.
Worse, so many of us conclude that someone simply didn’t consider the other elements in the natal chart. The truth is, if you look at every aspect in your chart, everything starts to contradict itself. Every interpretation ends up being cancelled out by something else. Venus is in the Seventh House? Early marriage. Oh, but Saturn’s there too? Late marriage. In the end, you get average-age marriage, which most people could’ve predicted for themselves without the help of astrology — which now seems entirely useless.
That would never happen in science. No matter how many elements are in a theory or an equation, every single one would end up supporting each other.
When I was new to astrology, I was presented with so many “best and most accurate systems in existence”. Vedic, Draconic, Whole Houses… I compared their declarations and predictions to my own life and reality. Nothing resonated. It mattered not how ancient, famous and numerous their fans are.
At the end of the day, what astrology does is unearth our past and prophesy our future. It is a method of divination. So treat it like tarot, scrying or tasseography. Learn the basic principles, and then combine that knowledge with your own intuition to arrive at the truth – instead of simply relying on what others, with all their numbers, are telling you.
The stars, like our palms, are a map of our destiny. But there are right and wrong ways of reading of a map. So explore astrology from every direction, until you discover the correct orientation. 
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