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esouliie · 9 months ago

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AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

An angel flung out of space.

"I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

You don’t follow her.

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient. The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips. Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order... now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

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twstfanblog · 4 months ago

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Flings put this out to the masses and goes to sleep. You guys enjoy this raw of the Manhwa AU!!!

The manor was so silent at night. A rare occurrence since her parents loved to throw parties.

She wonders if they threw any parties after she-

A little girl walked through elegantly decorated halls, grand paintings of scenery and people hung between dimly lit sconces. She wore a flowing light purple nightgown, ruffles on every edge of the fabric with a delicate teal ribbon tied to a bow at her collar. Long black hair with a stark white underside pulled into twin low braids.

Yuu Crowleyl was eight years old, again, for some reason. But she couldn't really complain. It was better than bleeding out on the hot summer stairs…it was cold now that she thought about it. Looking out the grand windows of the manor, she realized they were frosted over. Bare trees seen through the ice in the chilly late hours of the night. She should have put her slippers on; papa had made her a knitted pair that looked like his snow boots she loved…

Soon, she came to the double doors, or what she remembered, of her parents' room. Yuu reached a small hand to one of the levers and quietly shuffled her way inside.

She doesn't remember entering her parents' room much. She scarcely remembers them even entering her room, but maybe that could change. Yuu really liked the look of her parents' iridescent curtains covering the door to their large balcony. Walking closer to the lavishly dressed bed, she stared down at the rare uncovered face of her father.

Dire Crowley, Grand Duke of the Noctorn Empire, arguably one of the most powerful men in the land. And if you asked her papa, without a doubt, one of the most frustrating. He snored, mouth hanging open with his star and moon printed pajamas messy from his tossing and turning; a loveable embarrassment…

A gasp calls her eyes to look at the other side of the bed at her papa. Divus Crowley nee Crewel, Grand Duchess of the Noctorn Empire. He had his hair wrapped up in a fine patterned scarf and a hand clutching his silk robe closed, his eyes wide as he stared at her before huffing.

Divus leaned into his hand, taking care to not smudge the cream spread under his eyes as his lips turned into a scowl, “What are you doing up, puppy? I know it's far past your bedtime…” To any other child Divus looked as though he were annoyed to be dealing with his child, and he was. But years of knowing, loving, and being loved by her papa made her aware he was more so annoyed that his method of putting her to bed seemingly needed to be worked on again, not that she was bothering them.

“...” Yuu looked at her papa, blinking before taking in a shaky breath and whispering out her question, “Can I sleep with you?”

“...Oh, puppy…” Divus groans, an elegantly sharp nail tapping against his creased brow. His darling daughter was eight now. Close to the double digits and being expected to start behaving in a mature manner, yet still so painfully young. He had somehow managed to train his clingy toddler to sleep in her own bed years ago, a feat that was hard enough as is. But how was he to deny his puppy his comforting embrace when she was still so cute!?

Clasping his hands over his mouth, he breathed in. Raising an eyebrow at his strangely still daughter he asked, “Why do you want to sleep in our bed, puppy? You've never asked for such a thing before…”

Yuu blinks, taking in another quivering breath. It all seemed to be hitting her at once. The years of trying to befriend the men she grew to love, the years of neglect and disappointment. The fall, the crack, the pain, the blood.

“...I died…”

“...” Divus sat up straighter in his bed, eyes gaining a new worried flicker as he stared at his daughter, “What?”

“I-I…I…” she hiccuped, the tears finally welling in her eyes as her hands clenched onto her nightgown. Words lost as all she could do was take in shuddering gasps and let out pitiful chokes.

Divus slapped Dire's chest, each hit coming quicker and harder the more distressed Yuu's cries became, “Dire. Dire! Wake UP you crow BASTARD!”

Dire blinked his eyes open, bewildered why he was being forcibly woken in the middle of the night. His remark quickly lost on his tongue as he noticed his crying child right beside him, “Oh, my darling! What's made you cry like this?”

“Stop asking stupid questions and pull her into bed!” Divus slapped Dire’s shoulder, nearly punching the other man in an effort to bully him into doing as he said.

“Ow! I am!”

Yuu started to fully sob as Dire gently pulled her into the bed, placing her between the two fretting adults. She could feel their arms wrap around her, trying to soothe her tears with soft words and gentle pets. Her father had rung his service bell like a mad man, no doubt sending the servants into a panic and scrambling to heed his call. Soon a flustered servant ran into the room, Dire ordering them to bring a midnight snack selection, anything to ease his child's crying. Yuu didn't get the chance to eat any of the snacks, having slipped into a pitiful slumber locked in her papa's arms.

She had somehow traveled back in time over a decade, long before her death and betrayals. And as she laid curled between her loving parents, she made the decision that her old life wasn't worth repeating a second time. She knew her heart couldn't take it again…

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #papa crewel #divus crewel #dire crowley #manhwa au

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houseofpurplestars · 8 months ago

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On April 11th, 2019, Israel sends a space probe to the moon. It explodes on impact.

BORN of Holy Space, she is sister

to stone. knows each smooth defense

littering occupied Ground. Holy

Ground. she whispers stories of how we built

our homes / laying stone gentle atop one another

dabke hard on soil

sending stories of how children see if stones,

too, float in the dead sea.

israel sends a space probe to the moon & it explodes on impact.

LISTEN. the moon is pro-Palestine.

moon remembers when she was part of the earth / remembers when land was one / craters filled with water waiting to be named holy / a people knowing what it always was, tending to orchards with twisted roots older than sea level / sung prayers tucked into breakfasts of bread and cheese / throats uneroded / calling on our daughters / ya ‘amar ya ‘amar ya banat al ‘amar / asking of us beauty / strength

holy earth sends stories of children / gripping rocks so hard their life lines become granite rings.

Children scratching at empire / criminalized. what is a blemish to an empire? man-made death machines plummet into the surface of the moon / scratch for conquest.

o holy Ground. those who separated us will not be forgiven.

there is no blemish to her light. in eulogy of the Children who have joined the stars

she fights back

#summer farah #palestinian poets #palestinian poetry #free palestine #free gaza #i stand with palestine #palestine #gaza #resistance #solidarity #poetry #the moon is pro-palestine

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viesanterieures · 8 months ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒆

Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader

summary: The reader works as an artist who has never had a breakthrough until she decides to paint Robert.

warnings: this is a kinda cute and funny story so… no warnings :)

word count: 2500+

Masterlist

The air was warm as Robert turned into the familiar driveway. It was late October in Sydney, summer was just around the corner and the driveway was full of flowers and other plants. Today was Sunday, one of the few days he had to himself and his friends. During the week, he worked from early morning until late at night, as befits the future CEO of a multi-million dollar empire. Before he had even rung the bell, the door opened and a woman with shoulder-length brown hair pulled him into her arms. "Robert, how nice of you to come. We haven't seen each other in at least two months."

He laughed a little and patted his best friend on the shoulder. "I've had a lot on my mind, I'm sorry, Rebecca." Robert had known her since they were children. They had gone to kindergarten together and Rebecca was two years younger than him. All the friendships of his childhood, youth and university days had not lasted because many people thought he was arrogant, but Rebecca had always been there for him. As a child, as a teenager, as a student, at his wedding... and also at his divorce three years ago.

"How is your father, Robbie?" she wanted to know. Suddenly the smile on his face faded. "It doesn't look so good. He'll probably have to go back into hospital next month for a surgery." Rebecca looked at him compassionately and nodded silently as she took his jacket. "I'm so sorry."

I'm glad I can at least visit you," he quickly changed the subject.

"I'm glad too, Robbie," she said with a bright smile again.

"YN is also here, I hope you don't mind."

"No Becca, that‘s cool," Robert said, following her into the living room.

YN was Rebecca's younger sister and Robert quite liked her. She was one of those people who believed in destiny, the supernatural, spiritual things and tarot cards, which Robert didn't think much of. But she had always been very warm and kind to him and Robert was sure that there wasn't a single bad bone in this woman's body. She was just the way she was. As far as Robert knew, she worked full time in a perfumery and in her free time as an artist, but she remained rather unsuccessful. Her face immediately lit up when she saw him and gave him a friendly wave. She was wearing a pink dress, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, gold earrings and red lipstick. She was really pretty.

"Robert, how nice to see you! I brought some cupcakes, would you like one? They're homemade." She held out a bowl of pink muffins with strawberries and sprinkles to him. Robert gratefully took one and sat down on the couch next to the two women.

"It‘s really good," Robert praised YN's baking skills after taking a bite.

"Thank you, Robert. I baked them at 3 o'clock in the night because I couldn't sleep... It was another full moon. And my moon calender says that I should concentrate more on housework now, especially cooking and baking“.

He tried to hide his surprised expression and took another bite. Rebecca didn't seem confused by the explanation, she knew her sister well enough. Finally, YN slowly bent down towards them. "And do you know what my horoscope said?" Robert and Rebecca shook their heads.

"That I'm going to have my breakthrough this month," she finally said excitedly.

"You mean with your art?" Rebecca wanted to know.

"Yes! I'm going to have a huge success. But I don't know what motif to choose." YN picked at her dress thoughtfully. "A portrait or a landscape... I'm not sure. I need a subject to practise on first. Just to get back into it. I haven't painted for months.

"You've painted me so many times," Rebecca said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "How about you painting Robert?"

YN's face lit up at the words. "That's a wonderful idea! Robert, you have such a beautiful face... Like an angel!"

Robert almost choked on his cupcake. "Please what?"

"Oh come on Robbie, she just wants to practise," Rebecca interjected.

Sighing, he looked into YN's bright eyes and shrugged. "Yes, why not..."

YN cheered immediately and hugged Robert happily. "But I can't sit still for like eight hours," Robert replied quickly.

"You don't have to do that," YN said. "You can come with me to my studio, I'll draw the outlines and a sketch, then I'll take a photo of you to paint the details later. If you like and have the time, we can start right away. It would mean so much to me, Robert, really!" He smiled and nodded again. He just couldn't look away from YN's eyes.

***

"Nice studio," Robert said, breaking the awkward silence. He looked around curiously. YN's studio was a bright room with large windows letting in the daylight. There were easels full of canvases and tubes of paint everywhere and the smell of fresh paint was in the air.

"Robert, I told you not to move," laughed YN, who sat behind a canvas. The two had left for YN's that afternoon. Now the sun was already setting outside and Robert felt as if he had been sitting on the floor in front of her for ages.

"I'll be done with the outlines in a minute."

"Good, because my butt is already hurting," Robert grumbled.

A short moment later, YN put the brush down, clapped her hands and grabbed a camera lying on a chair next to her. "Well, I'm done for today. Let's take the photo quickly."

Robert moved back into position and looked a little tiredly at the camera. A few seconds after YN had taken the picture, he collapsed. "My God, this is more exhausting than I thought."

YN laughed. "I believe you. I've been a model too."

"Can I have a look?" Robert asked curiously, sitting up with a groan.

"Sure, come here." YN turned the canvas a little.

"Oh, this is definitely... Art." If Robert was honest, he couldn't really make out much on the canvas. It looked more like a wild doodle of a man who, with a lot of imagination, could look like him. And for this he had been sitting in an uncomfortable position on the cold floor for almost two hours?

"I'll start working on the details tomorrow. I'll let you know when it's ready."

Robert forced a friendly smile, YN pulled him into a tight hug to say goodbye and he left the house, a little disappointed.

Days and weeks passed without Robert hearing a word from YN. He didn't know how far she'd got with the painting, or if she'd even thrown it away. But then, one Saturday evening, she finally called him to say that she had finished the painting and that he could come and see it tomorrow. Of course Robert couldn't resist the opportunity, as he was actually quite curious to see how the painting would look now, although he had little hope that it would be any better than the last time.

He finally arrived at YN's door at 10am the next morning. She immediately greeted him friendly and offered him a cup of tea, which Robert gratefully accepted.

"Nice of you to come," she said and excitedly pulled him by the sleeve into her studio. "Close your eyes."

Robert did as she asked, although he was a little confused by her instructions. YN carefully led him to the easel in the middle of the room.

"And open your eyes."

Robert looked curiously at the painting in front of him, but then his jaw dropped and he couldn't get a word out.

"I've thrown away the old painting and made a new one. Isn't it gorgeous?"

He couldn't believe his eyes. The painting was insanely beautiful. It must have taken an eternity to work out all the details. He'd never seen so much care in YN's work, who usually painted in a rather chaotic way. Every single strand of Robert's dark hair was painted perfectly and precisely, and you could almost count every single eyelash. But most striking of all were the eyes, which stood out almost ghostly from the rest of the rather dark picture.

"It's so beautiful," he marvelled, running his finger carefully over the dry canvas. "But why am I wearing a sheer white shirt? I wore a normal black shirt that day. And my eyes look almost inhuman."

"Artistic freedom," YN quickly replied. "I wanted you to look a bit ethereal in the painting."

Robert nodded slowly with a raised eyebrow, then smiled again. "It‘s still so beautiful."

"You can have it if you want," YN offered.

He shook his head immediately. "No, no, keep it. It must have been so time-consuming that I don't want to take it away from you. I'm sure it's better off in your studio than in my house. But... promise me you won't sell it, okay?"

She nodded quickly and looked Robert straight in the eye. "No, I won't. I've made another artwork that I'm going to submit to the art competition."

Robert looked at her, confused. "To what?"

"Oh, I haven't told you yet. The art museum is running a competition this month. If I win, my painting will be on display there, isn't that great? Mrs Buchanan from the museum is coming to see the painting tomorrow. She's a good friend of my aunt's."

"That's great. Then I'll be rooting for you to win!"

Eventhough Robert had recently doubted YN's talent, he'd wished her all the best, especially now that he'd seen the beautiful portrait.

"And here it is," she joyfully pulled a cloth from a easel beside her.

"Oh, um... what is it exactly?" Robert asked, a little embarrassed as he couldn't make out more than a few patches of dark green on a grey background.

"The painting is called 'The Fog Forest'. The theme of the competition is 'Between reality and fiction: a journey into imagination'," explained YN. "The green stands for the trees of the forest and the grey is the fog and shadows, where you can easily get lost and dream.

"Oh, um, very nice." Robert forced a smile. "I'm sure Mrs Buchanan will recognise it immediately, also the deeper meaning, unlike me. You know I don't know much about art."

"I know that, Robert. But it's so kind of you to support me," she said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now, I have another appointment. Busy schedule as a future CEO... you know," he replied quickly, then looked at her pretty face and felt his heart beating in his chest.

***

"Becc, when I tell you! I've never seen such a beautiful painting." It was just after half past seven the next evening and Robert was glad to be off work. He stood in his kitchen, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear as he chopped vegetables into small cubes.

"Are you sure, Robert? I've known YN long enough and she's never painted anything else than a few dots and lines," Rebecca's voice came over the loudspeaker. Robert thoughtfully placed the pieces of vegetable in a pot.

"I've seen it with my own eyes. Maybe she was possessed by the ghost of Leonardo Davinci that night or something." At this moment Robert's doorbell rang. "I have to hang up, Becc, I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow again." Confused, Robert wiped his hands on a towel and hurried to the front door. Who the hell was that? As he opened the front door, he saw a familiar face but also an unfamiliar one. In front of him stood YN, as always in one of her summer dresses and her big earrings, and next to her a tall, slim older lady with a tight bun and a blazer, looking at him curiously.

"Hey YN... what are you doing here? And who are you?" Robert wanted to know, frowning in confusion.

"Oh, it's him! I recognise him," the unknown lady said excitedly as she looked at him more closely.

YN tapped nervously with one foot and took a deep breath. "Robert, this is Mrs Buchanan from the art museum, she wants to have you."

"Wait, what? She wants to have me?" Robert laughed confused.

"Not you. The painting of you." The lady quickly clarified. "It's really gorgeous. What a work of art. It perfectly reflects our theme for this month. Between reality and fiction... Almost like a modern version of the Dorian Gray's portrait," she enthused.

Robert's jaw dropped and he looked at YN, stunned. "But... but you submitted a completely different painting to the competition. The one with the forest."

"Oh, please, sir, you couldn't even see any trees, forest or anything in the picture," she replied sharply, and Robert didn't miss YN's sad face. "I saw this masterpiece in the corner of her studio and asked her if she wanted to submit this instead of that… Fog-Forest... thing."

"This is not possible, I‘m sorry," Robert replied firmly.

"Why not?" Mrs Buchanan asked.

"I am a serious businessman, madam, about to take over a company worth millions. What would my employees and clients think of me if they saw the painting of me as an…an…ethereal creature? I have to maintain a certain respectability." Robert bit his lower lip as soon as he said these words. He realised that this was YN's last chance and that she might have to give up her dream of becoming a painter.

"It's okay, Robert“, YN said quietly. "I understand." Forcing a smile, she turned around together with Mrs Buchanan.

For Robert, the world seemed to stand still at that moment. He didn't want YN's dream to be shattered like his own. He had always aspired to become a professional musician and study music, but his father had always stopped him because he wanted him to take over the company one day. Even though Robert didn't even think he was the right person for this huge job.

"Wait, YN." The echo of his voice sounded down the driveway, the two women, who were about to get back into the car, immediately turned around.

"Let‘s do this, YN."

****

"A glass of champagne, sir?" asked an elegantly dressed lady next to him, balancing a small tray in front of her.

"No, thank you, madam. I don't drink alcohol at the moment," Robert declined her offer in a friendly voice.

"And for our winner? On the house, of course," she asked YN, who was standing next to him. She gratefully accepted a glass. The exhibition was in full swing. Many different artists were exhibiting that day, but no artwork attracted as many glances as YN's. Rebecca joined them and patted her sister on the shoulder. "I looked at it again, it really is amazing. How did you do it?"

"I don't even know it myself. It's as if my hands painted it themselves," YN replied, taking a sip from her glass.

"That supports Robert's Davinci theory," Rebecca chuckled.

YN looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Nothing," Rebecca replied quickly, pointing to the glass in her sister's hand. "Hey, where did you get the champagne?" she wanted to know.

"From that lady over there," YN replied with a grin and immediately Rebecca was gone in the crowd.

"I'm so sorry," Robert said quietly. "For what?" she wanted to know in surprise.

"For underestimating you... You and your art... You‘re such a wonderful, strong and unique woman."

YN bit her lip and Robert felt that she was about to cry. "Thank you, Robert." They remained silent as they watched the visitors pass by the artworks.

"So my horoscope was right after all," YN told Robert. "I really had my breakthrough. Do you believe in them now?" she wanted to know.

"Maybe," Robert replied thoughtfully.

"Do you know what else he said besides success?", she asked him.

Robert shook his head and smiled curiously.

"That I will also find love this month," she said quietly, putting her glass down on a small table beside her. "Maybe it was the love I felt for you when I painted that picture that made it so beautiful. Maybe that was the reason for all the success.“

Robert looked into her eyes and gently stroked her soft hair. Finally, he slowly pulled her into his arms and their lips touched immediately.

- 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

#cillian murphy #cillian #robert fischer imagine #robert fischer fanfiction #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #inception fanfiction #inception x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #Oppenheimer #Inception

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rebelpeas · 3 months ago

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oli is a wanderer. he’s carefree, on the move, untethered, and he can even mostly pretend he doesn’t miss a home he’s never had. a chance hitchhike introduces him to a strange-but-handsome driver who goes only by pix, and oli buckles up for the latest in a long string of short-term companionship.

pix is like oli: he has no roots and no reason to stay. oli likes that in a man, almost as much as the greying ponytail, wry sense of humour, and air of mystery. but what he intends to be a brief and beautiful summer fling turns into something much deeper when pix’s secrets unravel a thread between oli’s recurring dreams of home and the nightmare haunting them both.

this fic is 10k of roadtrip horror aro4aro love story that can be easily read fandom blind. it’s the best thing i’ve written in a year. if you’re looking for those Hoorayy Fic Vibes™️ you will find them here. happy olipix forever

#empires smp #empires season 2 #empiresshipping #olipix #theorionsound #pixlriffs #HOORAYY WRITING FANS. PLS CONSIDER THIS FIC.#i know it is not the usual blorbos but i beg of you to consider it for The Vibes Alone

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diacripticcomplex · 2 months ago

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Yui POV:

I have been a priestess of Vesta since I was 7 years old, I loved serving the goddess and protecting the flame. It has been ten years since I took the vows, to remain chaste, we are the Vestal Virgins after all, I never craved sex or even knew what it was like..I didn't even have my first kiss, it's somewhat embarrassing to think of. My knees were beginning to hurt the more I prayed, so I decided to wrap up my nightly prayers, it was getting late, I think everyone was pretty much fast asleep.

The nightly walks from the temple to the villa dorms were always lovely, the warm summer night breezes felt so nice. I look up at the stars, the moon was ever so full. I was so captivated by the sight of the moon, I didn't notice the horrid events that were about to occur...the scream of one of the priestess sent a shockwave through my entire body. What was going on..?

I turn from the moon and get struck by a taller figure, I didn't see their face, everything went black.

I don't know how much time had passed since I was struck, I woke up finding myself bound in heavy chains, the smell of smoke and blood filled the area I was confined in. It was dark so I could barely see anything. I heard the never ending screams of my sister vestals. They were being tortured..was the great roman empire being invaded right now..? No roman would touch the vestals...who is doing this to us? The door opens, there is no light but I feel a hand grabbing me, yanking me out and into the next area, there was barely a lit torch, I couldn’t make out who it was. I heard the laughter of men, that disgusting laughter as they did whatever to us. I was abruptly pushed down to what felt like a wooden bench or table I couldn’t tell. I hit my head back hard against it, I think I even began to bleed a little.

“Don’t you tire of torturing them?” One of the men said to the others, his voice sounded irritated as if he had better things to do. “Of course not, virgin blood is the best after all~” the other replied, he somewhat sang the last part. What did they mean by virgin blood? Were they creatures of the night that were in stories? What exactly were these men and what did they intend to do to us…the anticipation was killing me, so I decided to speak up and ask.

“Who are you…?” I quietly asked. There was a brief moment of silence before one of them chuckled out. “We’re sent from the afterlife to take beautiful vestal virgins” the one who answered was the same one from before with the singing tune at the end of his speech only his voice sounded deadly serious. They approached me, with their torches in hand, I got a better look at them, they were so beautiful, I’ve never seen men look this way before. There were 6 of them, all of them had a unique appearance. My eyes began scanning them, they had blood on their faces and hands, as well as their cloaks.

“Shes got a nice face, let’s mess her up” a bright green eyed man said, his hair was a vibrant red, it was beautiful his eyes captivated me, was this love at first sight..? I was unsure. His hand grabbed around my neck harshly, he gripped it tightly, I couldn’t barely breathe, just a little. Before I could muster up the courage to tell him to unhand me he bit my neck, I let out a sharp gasp, it was extremely painful, what was worse was I could feel my blood leaving my body as he took sips, he was slaking his thirst as I grew numb. “Her blood smells amazing…Ayato share!” one of the other guys yelled out, he had vibrant soft purple hair, I’ve never seen any human with hair of that royal color. Soon all of them were all over me, biting into me. Two of them, one had raven hair and the other a blondish color were biting into my wrists, the redheaded man, Ayato was slurping from my lips, he stole my first kiss in the worst way possible. Another redheaded man was drinking from my foot, the purple haired one was by my other foot, and lastly my thigh was being ripped apart by a white haired man, he was so beautiful his eyes were terrifyingly red. I felt life draining from me, and suddenly they all stopped , much to my surprise honestly. They all seemed to have gotten full and drunk off my blood.

My clothes were soaked in blood, I felt disgusting I wanted a bath. I wanted to be freed from these creatures of the night. Ayato looked at me with so much lust in his eyes then tore of my tunic , exposing my naked body, my face flushed red I was terrified. They were going to defile me…if they were Romans they would have been executed for this…Ayato wasted no time, he turned me around and inserted himself within me, it was very painful at first, he didn’t kiss me or touch me gently, just roughly stroked inside me, faster and faster. “Ayato she’s a virgin you should go easier on her, the poor little bitch~” the other redhead sang again. He decided to take over to show Ayato how it’s supposed to be done. They took their turns on me, all of them, I didn’t think my first time would be a gang rape…I closed my eyes, wanting for it to be over.

#diabolik lovers #diabolik boys #dialovers #yui komori #diabolik brothers #diahell #smut #famfiction #oneshot #vestal virgins #roman empire #ancient rome #fire

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shkatzchen · 5 days ago

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There is the moral of all human tales; 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past. First freedom and then Glory – when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption – barbarism at last. And History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page... -Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

Thomas Cole used this passage to advertise his series of five paintings, "The Course of Empire," completed between 1833 and 1836. All five paintings are done from approximately the same perspective.

The first painting, The Savage State, or The Commencement of Empire, portrays the ideal of nature, a healthy world unchanged by humanity. It is daybreak and the seeds of civilization are planted. This progresses to The Arcadian, or The Pastoral State, shows summer, where humanity has progressed in the arts and sciences and wilderness has begun to be tamed. Although humanity remains at peace with the land, subtle signs are shown of the dark nature of man and emerging imperial ambition.

The third painting, The Consummation of Empire jumps to the height of empire, decadence dripping from every stroke. There is royalty, diversity, triumphant generals and grandiose buildings. Yet hidden within are the seeds of its downfall. This comes in Destruction, the fourth, where the Empire is under attack. The city is sieged and sacked, enemies have come from without and discord has come from within. The women are brutalized and the buildings destroyed.

The series ends in Desolation. The ruins of the city are being swallowed by the wilderness, illuminated by the last dregs of daylight as the moon rises. Humanity is nowhere to be found, destroyed at its own hand. The empire is extinct.

The cycle reflects Cole's pessimism and may be a condemnation of Andrew Jackson and his Democratic Party. Others, such as SCOTUS Justice Levi Woodbury, insisted America would not fall to destruction, but would continue ever upward.

The Cycle of Empire is Base Game Compatible and comes in six swatches per each painting for thirty swatches total.

The mesh comes from @thejim07 and is used with permission.

Download from Simfileshare here.

Made with S4S.

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wianes · 2 months ago

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My Take on Griffith and the Solar Symbol

Introduction and Overview of Symbolism

I acknowledge that Griffith is typically associated with the moon as a key symbol, and its role is evident. Nonetheless, in my interpretation, it is not the moon but rather the sun and solar principles that primarily and inherently represent his character. The lunar motif seems to have emerged with Griffith, particularly due to the presence of Moonchild, and is primarily linked to transformation. In this text, I will explain why this is the case. Similarly, in future works, I intend to explore how the sun connects with his other symbols, such as the hawk and the falcon. Those who have seen Ladyhawke will understand what I mean. In any case, I believe that qualities also associated with yang, such as solar, active, and masculine principles, fit his character very well.

Moving on to the specifics:

As most 'normal' readers probably know, Griffith embodies a complex nature, woven into a rich tapestry of allegories and motifs. His persona resonates with numerous spiritual and philosophical layers that are intricately tied to symbolism and mythology, transcending conventional concepts. By exploring how the sun symbolizes Griffith, I will analyze various authors' interpretations alongside my personal viewpoint. It is essential to note that while he may embody a singular principle, this does not exclude the presence of contrasting elements. A deliberate acknowledgment of these opposing forces is also important. His character is intricately crafted and transcends boundaries, encompassing all aspects of the universe.

The sun is arguably the most prominent feature of the natural world. Without it, life as we know it would cease to exist. Its radiance defines not only its appearance but also its symbolic essence. Mythical narratives often depict the sun’s movement as a luminous chariot crossing the celestial expanse. Gold, known for its resistance to tarnish and corrosion, symbolizes immortality. Even under intense heat, it retains its color and luster, further enhancing its symbolism of endurance.

Diverse cultures regard the sun as the essential cosmic force, key to life’s preservation and growth. It embodies vitality, passion, and enlightenment, while also serving as an emblem of royalty and empire. In some traditions, the sun is revered as the Universal Father.

The sun’s daily journey of rising and setting symbolizes profound concepts such as birth, death, and resurrection. The sun’s daily journey, from rising to setting, symbolizes profound concepts such as birth, death, and resurrection. The winter and summer solstices mark significant celestial events, inspiring myths and festivals worldwide. The solstice, in particular, symbolizes the triumph of light over darkness and marks the transition between cycles of light and growth.

For millennia, sun worshippers have attributed magical properties to solar rays, including fertility, creativity, prophecy, and healing. Alchemists even saw in the sun the potential for wholeness and spiritual enlightenment. As a result, this symbol has attained a revered status, reflecting celestial prestige and authority, similar to that of rulers with sun-like crowns. The sun stands as the symbolic heart of the cosmos, shining brightly as a celestial entity, embodying majestic qualities and imperial splendor.

Solar Cycles and Rituals

Daily Cycle- From sunrise to sunset, the sun's path marks both the everyday passage of a day and its deeper spiritual significance. In sacred rituals, the sunrise symbolizes creation and renewal, while the sunset signifies death and transition.

Annual Cycle-Through the solstices and the equinoxes, the sun's cycles symbolize the cyclical nature of life. They also represent the eternal dance of light and darkness. The summer solstice heralds the peak of vitality, whereas the winter solstice represents a time of introspection and renewal.

Symbol of Regeneration

Ancient cultures revered the sun’s daily rise and set as symbols of eternal rejuvenation. This reverence mirrors the cycles of birth, death, and rebirth in life. The sun's daily journey—rising, setting, and rising again—embodies this cyclical nature. It symbolizes the concept of the eternal return, prevalent in religious, mythological, and primordial narratives. Its cycle reflects a belief in the continuous revitalization of the cosmos and human existence.

Examples Across Cultures:

Native American Traditions: The Sun Dance ritual celebrates the sun’s power to regenerate life and maintain cosmic order.

East Asian Traditions: The sun is associated with the emperor and the state's revival. It symbolizes harmony between the heavens and the earth.

Christian Symbolism: Christian symbolism connects Christ's resurrection to the sun's rising, symbolizing ultimate rebirth and triumph over death.

Egyptian Mythology: The sun god Ra's daily journey across the sky symbolizes rebirth and regeneration. Each morning, Ra's rising represents the rejuvenation of life and energy.

Hinduism: The Sun god Surya is associated with health and vitality. The daily practice of Surya Namaskar (Sun Salutation) in yoga represents revitalization and physical regeneration.

Ancient Greek Religion: The sun god Apollo is connected with healing and revitalization. His daily journey across the sky symbolizes restoration and the constant renewal of life.

Griffith’s journey symbolizes a profound connection between the celestial realm, the earthly realm, and the underworld. He starts as a mortal leader and descends into a state of brokenness. Nonetheless, he emerges as a transcendent being. This transformation parallels a metaphorical ascent along a celestial path, linking the human and divine realms, and deeply altering the narrative’s spiritual landscape.

Griffith's journey begins with the evening, which represents the end of a cycle and the uncertainty of night. His quest can be interpreted as emerging from chaos or darkness, focusing on overcoming a state of despair and the struggle against nightfall. This descent into darkness shifts the narrative from one of renewal and hopeful ascent to one of redemption or recovery from a fall. Starting in the evening alters the metaphorical resonance of Griffith’s odyssey, aligning it more with themes of overcoming nightfall and emerging into a new dawn.

This signifies the start of a transformative phase. The cycle mirrors themes of renewal and regeneration, illustrating pivotal shifts in the entire storyline. Griffith casts off his former self and ascends to a higher plane of existence. By doing so, he reshapes the world according to his vision. In essence, his quest embodies the cyclical nature of life's challenges and triumphs. It illustrates the potential for profound transformation and spiritual evolution.

Cosmic Order, Axis Mundi, and Harmony

People perceive the sun's predictable movements as a manifestation of the cosmic order. This contrasts with the chaos and unpredictability of profane time. The sun's consistent path across the sky signifies the universe's stability. Ancient rituals and myths sought to align human actions with the sun's cosmic order. This alignment was meant to ensure harmony with the rhythms of nature.

The sun’s regularity, embodied in its daily journey, instills a sense of security and predictability. It reflects the structured nature of the universe. The cycle reaffirms this cosmic stability. It represents the supreme harmony of the cosmos and illustrates the natural laws that govern existence. Thus, it ensures a harmonious life.

Quite literally, the Axis Mundi translates as the 'World Axis.' It is the axis around which the world revolves. It links the heavens to the earth and the dominions below. This concept is universal and is symbolically represented by a tree, a standing stone, a mountain, the omphalos, the lingam, the Vajra, or the Pole Star.

The sun's "light," its active influence and emanation, functions as "information" to the Earth. This light guides reactions and changes. By consciously sharing this information, one can affect all aspects of the solar system.

The concept of the Axis Mundi, or the world's center, often aligns with the sun's path. As the sun rises and sets at specific points on the horizon, it establishes the cardinal directions. It also serves as markers for sacred geography. Temples, altars, and religious buildings align with the sun’s path. This alignment symbolizes the synchronization of human actions with the cosmic order.

Represented by mountains, trees, poles, temples, pyramids, and altars, the Axis Mundi connects the heavens, the earth, and the underworld. It reinforces the sacred structure of the world. The daily movement of the sun embodies order and stability. It highlights its function in sustaining harmony and continuity in the universe.

In the Context of Berserk

Guts is the main character through whom readers engage with the story. Nevertheless, Griffith remains the focal point of the narrative, symbolizing the most conscious cosmic entity. He symbolizes the most conscious cosmic entity. This mirrors the heliocentric model of our solar system, with the Sun at its center. All the planets, satellites, asteroids, and comets orbit around it. The cosmos, connected by endless energy links, organizes itself around his existence. The series' plot actively incorporates his meticulously crafted destiny, ensuring that it fulfills a specific role within the narrative.

Griffith's significance within this grand design is evident. We understand the tasks he must perform to maintain the balance of the universe. As the executor of the shaping will, he realizes his own desires. The character restores order to the chaotic world around him. His leadership of the Band of the Hawk initially brings unity, purpose, and stability to his followers. This exemplifies his role as a catalyst for establishing order in turbulent times.

His deep awareness of others' situations prompts him to expand his horizons. Wherever he goes, a sense of solid attachment and connection follows. Griffith acknowledges his responsibility for all lives and events, including those he has taken and humanity’s fate. The broad spectrum of responsibilities he must fulfill is fully comprehended. With unwavering resolve, he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He could not afford to neglect his responsibility to those who chose to fight alongside him. Having given all he had, he reached an irreversible point. Sacrificing everything, he went too far to turn back. He specifies the sacrifices he is ready to make for success and what has already been relinquished to achieve his goal. The sole remaining task is to defend his prize with every ounce of might left.

Solar Deities and Hero Myths

Ancient myths often highlight solar deities or heroes associated with the sun. These myths frequently emphasize qualities such as courage, strength, and transformative power. By regularly reenacting these narratives, people sought to ensure the perpetuation of life and the prosperity of their communities. Solar myths, therefore, functioned as archetypal models for how to live. By aligning themselves with the myths of sun heroes, individuals and communities endeavored to partake in the divine saga of creation and reactivation.

Heroes in mythological narratives often undertake quests for greatness, spiritual enlightenment, or divine favor. Griffith’s journey parallels this archetype as he navigates personal and astral challenges to achieve his goal. This journey culminates in his transformation into Femto and his subsequent ascent to a higher plane of existence. Griffith embodies a complex blend of solar deity motifs and hero myth archetypes. This challenges conventional interpretations of heroism and divine aspiration. Griffith’s journey from mortal leader to transcendent being underscores themes of destiny, sacrifice, and the pursuit of cosmic significance. This transformation takes place within a narrative marked by its dark and introspective themes.

Divine Kingship

Solar deities play a central role in many mythologies. They are often linked to kingship, with rulers perceived as their earthly representatives. In both mythological and psychological narratives of heroism, the sun holds paramount significance. It symbolizes authority and power. Throughout history, rulers have often been seen as chosen by divine will. Many have traced their lineage to solar gods. Freud might interpret this as humanity’s unconscious desire for dominion and power.

The sun, with its dominant presence and life-sustaining energy, frequently serves as a symbolic representation of masculine vitality and power. Its daily journey—from rising to setting and then rising again—captivates the imagination. Freud might interpret these symbols as manifestations of the unconscious life force that propels human behavior and personal motives.

In the context of dreams, the sun’s appearance may symbolize a renewed sense of energy, motivation, and determination.

Jungian psychology connects this life force with libido. Libido is defined as a core energy driving human behavior that extends far beyond its sexual connotations. Thus, the Sun’s daily cycle represents transformation, renewal, and the continual regeneration of vitality

In alchemical and esoteric thought, the sun represents spiritual growth and transformation. This parallels the concept of masculine generative energy. This interpretation aligns with esoteric traditions that view the sun as a source of profound transformative power. Its daily journey through the sky illustrates a perpetual cycle of ascent and descent, mirroring the dynamic yet eternal nature of cosmic consciousness.

In ancient Rome, emperors were often linked to Apollo, the sun god. This connection continued into later eras with mentions of "golden ages" and "solar kings." The sun, as the ruler among stars, has long been considered sovereign over all beneath its light.

Ancient Egypt: Pharaohs were believed to be descendants of Ra, the sun god, ruling as living gods on Earth with divine authority to maintain societal order.

Japan: The Japanese emperors trace their lineage back to the Sun goddess Amaterasu, a divine symbol of authority.

Hindu Tradition: Kingship is often associated with Surya, the Sun god. Rulers derive their authority and righteousness from his divine light.

Christian Tradition: The divine right of kings linked rulers with Christ, who played a role in legitimizing their reign through miracles and empowerment by the Holy Spirit.

France (Louis XIV): The "Sun King" embraced the solar symbol to assert his absolute monarchy, reshaping his kingdom in accordance with his authority.

Griffith exhibits extraordinary conviction and self-confidence. He seems born with a natural capacity to lead, as if he embodies the universe’s fundamental laws. He is not a despot; people follow him willingly, inspired by his innate ability to lead. The character embodies a reformative spirit. He is fully aware of his responsibilities and willing to make sacrifices for his vision. Divine kingship often involves a sacred pact or sacrifice for the greater good, and Griffith embodies this through his actions. He seeks to change the existing order, creating a new world based on his ideals.

The The Eastern perspective emphasizes virtuous leadership and inspiration through example, aligning with Griffith’s pursuit of creating a new world order.

The sun’s role as a radiant celestial body is metaphorically associated with themes of power, conviction, and assertiveness. This broader interpretation links the sun to leadership and influence, often tied to masculine imagery. Its presence symbolizes an indomitable spirit, resonating with the idea of a visionary leader who persists in the face of adversity, embodying determination and fortitude.

Griffith exemplifies unparalleled dedication to a singular cause, reflecting a passion reminiscent of ancient deities. Driven by a singular focus, he propels events toward his vision, never needing guidance to grasp his purpose or direction.

Light and Illumination

The symbol's resplendence captures the essence of enlightenment. It illustrates the intellectual and spiritual awakening of both mind and soul. It dispels darkness, signifying the pursuit of truth and insight by revealing the essence of existence. Just like the sun’s ascent, enlightenment heralds the dawn of intellectual awakening. This marks a shift from old beliefs to new ones in favor of deeper truths. It represents a divine presence, fostering a spiritual connection with the universe and transcending boundaries to achieve higher states of consciousness.

Veritably, sunlight frequently represents clarity and awareness. It breaks through the obscurity of ignorance or the unconscious mind. In dreams, sunlight illuminating a previously shadowed area can signify the dreamer's journey toward self-awareness and understanding. Freud, although he did not specifically use the golden orb as a dream symbol, explored light-related symbols. These symbols metaphorically align with the attributes associated with the sun. He interpreted dreams as expressions of unconscious desires, fears, and conflicts. Symbols in dreams mask deeper psychological content.

The sun's rhythmic cycle of illumination and shadow embodies a profound duality rich in symbolic significance. Light, in this context, represents vitality, clarity, and sacredness. Darkness signifies mortality, chaos, and the secular. The transition from night to day signifies the triumph of order over chaos and life over death. This dualistic framework underpins many religious rituals and myths. Here, the rising sun signifies renewal, hope, and divine intervention.

These instances illustrate the celestial fire's role as a global symbol of light. It bridges cultures and becomes deeply embedded in spiritual and philosophical beliefs worldwide.

Griffith’s nomenclature in reference to light is deliberate. This applies both cosmologically and in the minds of people and apostles. He is effulgent and lucent in silver and white. He reveals himself at night and within the minds of people. Spiritually, in religions such as Christianity and Buddhism, the concept of true light refers to an authentic source of enlightenment or understanding. This phrase signifies the divine or transcendent reality. It represents love, salvation, or communion with the absolute.

Light and Darkness Dynamics

In psychoanalytic theory, light symbolizes consciousness and awareness. Darkness represents the unconscious and the unknown. The interplay between these elements in dreams reflects the dynamic tension between the conscious mind and the repressed aspects of the psyche. Jung emphatically stressed the significance of integrating the shadow. The shadow represents the unconscious aspect of the personality. The duality of light and darkness, symbolized by the presence and absence of the sun, illustrates this process of integration. Embracing both the light (conscious) and the dark (unconscious) facets of the psyche is crucial for attaining inner completeness and holistic equilibrium.

In alchemical philosophy, the sun (Sol) embodies a blend of energies akin to its physical counterpart. It represents the radiant "day" aspect of the psyche and also symbolizes the sulfurous "active substance" that directs consciousness toward specific objectives. As a royal figure, the sun signifies the authority of guiding principles that shape consciousness. The sun also symbolizes "gold," the "yellow balsam," and the truth behind consciousness's capacity for self-healing and rejuvenation. This rejuvenation occurs through immersion in moist, lunar-like feelings and moods, manifesting the magical and mercurial aspects. The regenerated "Sun of the Philosophers" is paradoxically both transparent and opaque. It embodies both light and shadow and endures perpetually.

Even as it sets, the sun carries away the light—never dying—and is always everlasting. This epitomizes eternal renewal.

Across various cultures, the sun serves as a potent symbol for illuminating the unconscious. In alchemy, a field deeply influential to Jung, the sun symbolizes the Philosopher’s Stone, representing an aspiration to transform base materials (the unconscious) into gold (conscious awareness). Likewise, in many religious traditions, the sun embodies a divine presence that reveals spiritual truths. The sun’s journey aims to illuminate everything that remains in the shadows and gradually diminishes the pursuit of discretion. Its character underscores the theme that light and darkness are not merely opposites; they are interdependent and essential to understanding the nature of existence and the human condition. Through this lens, Berserk invites readers to contemplate the complexities of morality, the cyclical nature of life, and the eternal dance between light and dark.

The Self in Solar Representation

In sacred symbolism, the sun embodies the divine presence. It highlights the relationship between light and darkness. Griffith’s portrayal provides a profound exploration of these themes. This ancient motif, characterized by its radiance and resplendence, reflects themes deeply resonant with the psychological exploration of duality. Jung perceived this duality as pivotal in human psychology. The sun embodies the quest for equilibrium and integration.

The sun, with its radiant and all-encompassing nature, functions as a metaphor for the self. It embodies qualities of wholeness, integration, and the realization of one’s full potential. The sun’s warmth and light symbolize the nurturing aspects of the psyche. They foster growth, enlightenment, and balance. Its glowing and opalescent nature symbolizes the cosmic light that nurtures the self’s evolution.

Griffith’s character exudes mystery. The trepidation in his depiction conceals much of his inner emotions and thoughts. It is observed that Griffith attempts to maintain a hermetic, closed state, except for a few strategic moments designed to create an impression of being larger than life. The character’s role as an archetypal figure is both a symbol of societal shifts and an embodiment of cosmic significance.

It's probably obvious that during the during the Millennium Falcon arc, Griffith unified light and shadow, the conscious and unconscious, as represented by the apostles and humans, through his own person.

Miura highlighted that Griffith’s narrative complexity stems from his role as a symbol for entire communities. He advocates for collective and cosmological interests. This portrayal showcases his transformations and expressions as manifestations of broader societal and global vices. Griffith's actions traverse various segments of society, reflecting both his personal evolution and the ongoing upheaval of collective consciousness.

These cultural examples illustrate how different societies, throughout time and across various mythologies, have interpreted the sun as a symbol of enlightenment and the integrated self. In each tradition, the sun serves as a metaphorical representation of spiritual awakening, inner harmony, and the universal principles guiding human existence.

Griffith embraced a philosophy of dualism, believing it could be immanently unified as the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth. This unification would be achieved through the absolute realization of self-consciousness and human freedom. He developed a concept of the absolute that both creates and opposes itself, embodying its essence and its contrary. In this framework, Griffith's role was to act as a steady vector, assimilating disharmony and facilitating the flow of ideas. He represented both the external substance and the universal essence of the mind. The divine presence manifests not through miracles but through transformative epochs, leading to something new and more joyful, akin to dawn.

#griffith #Griffith Berserk #berserk meta #The text contains mistakes that I will probably never notice anyway.

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chaoscouncilcreaturecorner · 4 months ago

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Water & Beach-Themed Names & Pronouns List

Names:

🤍 Masculine Names:

🐚Caspian - Origin: Caspian Sea

🐳Kai - Origin: Hawaiian - Meaning: "Sea"

🐚Ren - Origin: Diminutive of Rene or Japanese - Meaning: "Water lily; Lotus"

🐳Maxwell - Origin: Scottish - Meaning: "Great steam"

🐚Clyde - Origin: Scottish River Name

🐳Alon - Origin: Hebrew; Filipino Word - Meaning: "Oak tree; Wave"

🐚Solomon - Origin: Christianity; Hebrew - Meaning: "Underwater bridge; Peace"

🐳Earwyn - Origin: English - Meaning: "Friend of the sea"

🐚Salmon - Origin: Hebrew; English; French - Meaning: "Salmon; Peace"

🐳Mortimer - Origin: French - Meaning: "Dead sea; Stagnant sea"

🖤 Feminine Names:

🫧Cordelia - Origin: Latin; Celtic - Meaning: "Heart; Daughter of the sea"

🦑Mira - Origin: Latin, Slavic, Arabic, Sanskrit - Meaning: "Admirable; Peace; Female ruler; Ocean"

🫧Maya - Origin: Greek; Central American Indian empire name; Latinate Variation of May; Spanish, diminutive of Amalia; variation of Maia; Hebrew - Meaning: "Water"

🦑Talia - Origin: Hebrew; Australian Aboriginal - Meaning: "Gentle dew from heaven; By the water"

🫧Tallulah - Origin: Choctaw, Irish - Meaning: "Leaping water, Lady of abundance"

🦑Maren - Origin: Latin - Meaning: "Sea"

🫧Sabrina - Origin: Celtic, Latin name for the River Severn

🦑Marina - Origin: Latin - Meaning: "From the sea"

🫧Guinevere - Origin: Welsh - Meaning: "White shadow; White wave"

🦑Jennifer - Origin: Cornish variation of Welsh Guinevere - Meaning: "White shadow; White wave"

🩶 Neutral/Androgynous Names:

🌊Haf - Origin: Welsh; Icelandic - Meaning: "Summer; Ocean"

🦈Current - Origin: Water current - Meaning: "The motion of the Ocean"

🌊Siren - Origin: Greek Mythology

🦈Tasi - Origin: Chamorro; Christianity - Meaning: "Ocean; Sea"

🌊Dipsi - Origin: Hindu; Bislama - Meaning: "Light; Ocean"

🦈Daria/Darius - Origin: Persian - Meaning: "Sea; Possessing Goodness"

🌊Pelagic - Origin: Greek - Meaning: "Of, Relating to, or living or occuring in the open sea; Oceanic"

🦈Mer - Origin: The Word Mermaid/Merman; Spanish - Meaning: "Ocean; Sea"

🌊Wave - Origin: English - Meaning: "Arched form of water or sound"

🦈Bahari - Origin: Swahili - Meaning: "Sailor; Ocean"

Pronouns:

Nature Themed:

Sea/Foam

Wave/Waves

Moon/Moon

Tide/Tidal

Cur/Current

Co/Coral

Bub/Bubble

Wa/Water

Oce/Ocean

Sea/Sea

La/Lake

Ri/River

Aqua/Aquatic

Coa/Coast

Tide/Pool

Sho/Shore

La/Lagoon

Dead/Zone

Deep/Blue

Hurri/Hurricane

Isla/Island

Nau/Nautical

Ocean/Floor

Sur/Surface

Under/Water

Tsu/Tsunami

Al/Algae

Bac/Bacteria

Kel/Kelp

Sea/Glass

Animal Themed:

Wha/Whale

Shar/Shark

Jell/Jellyfish

Fi/Fish

Sea/Horse

Tur/Turtle

Sea/Seal

Or/Orca

Sea/Dragon [Leafy Seadragon]

Dol/Dolphin

Clown/Fish

Blue/Tang

Ott/Otters

Sea/Lion

Octo/Octopus

Squi/Squid

Wal/Walrus

Lob/Lobster

Spon/Sponge

Be/Beluga

Angel/Fish

Mana/Manatee

Star/Fish

Eel/Eel

Sea/Urchin

Cuttle/Fish

Barra/Barracuda

Man/Manta

Ray/Ray

Croco/Crocodile

Mythology/Legend Themed:

Sea/Serpent

Ocean/Dragon

Si/Siren

Mer/Mermaid [Merman, Merfolk & Merbeing Also Work]

Sing/Singing

So/Song

Lu/Lure

Kra/Kraken

Levi/Leviathan

Loch/Ness

Ap/Apsara

Ka/Kappa

Ni/Nixies

Ca/Calypso

The/Thetis

Ne/Nereids

Oce/Oceanids

Na/Naga

Na/Naiad

Po/Poseidon

Tri/Trident

Tri/Triton

In/Indra

Nep/Neptune

Va/Varuna

Ce/Cetus

Ich/Ichtyo [Ichtyocentaurs]

Sea/Monster

Sel/Selkie

Ma/Makara

Beach & Pool Themed:

Flip/Flop

Mock/Mocktail

Mo/Mojito

Be/Beach

Sta/Stand

Swi/Swim

Ba/Ball

To/Towel

Sun/Sunscreen

Bo/Boat

Beach/Side

Pool/Noodle

Beach/Chair

Bu/Bucket

Palm/Tree

Tree/Tree

Sun/Sun

Sha/Shade

Sha/Shadow

Pool/Pool

San/Sand

Go/Goggles

Sur/Surf

Sun/Sunset

Re/Resort

Salt/Salt

Sand/Sandcastle

Ya/Yacht

Fi/Fishing

Fin/Fins

Emoji Themed:

🐢/🐢s

🐍/🐍s

🐙/🐙s

🦑/🦑s

🪼/🪼s

🦐/🦐s

🦞/🦞s

🦀/🦀s

🐡/🐡s

🐠/🐠s

🐟/🐟s

🐬/🐬s

🐳/🐳s

🐋/🐋s

🦈/🦈s

🦭/🦭s

🐊/🐊s

🌴/🌴s

🐚/🐚s

🪸/🪸s

🍹/🍹s

🦩/🦩s

🛟/🛟s

⚓/⚓s

🪝/🪝s

🏝️/🏝️s

🌅/🌅s

🏖️/🏖️s

⛱️/⛱️s

🩴/🩴s

🫧/🫧s

🌊/🌊s

🍧/🍧s

🧊/🧊s

🍨/🍨s

🍦/🍦s

🥤/🥤s

🍸/🍸s

🍹/🍹s

🦩/🦩s

🛟/🛟s

⚓/⚓s

🪝/🪝s

🏝️/🏝️s

🌅/🌅s

🪨/🪨s

🌙/🌙s

🌑/🌑s

🌒/🌒s

🌓/🌓s

🌔/🌔s

🌕/🌕s

🌖/🌖s

🌗/🌗s

🌘/🌘s

👡/👡s

🥽/🥽s

🏄/🏄s

🚣/🚣s

🤿/🤿s

🪸These weren't requested, just decided to post some things as well until we start to get requests!

🪼All of the dividers are from: saradika.tumblr.com! Thank you so much for these beautiful dividers! ^^

~ Created Mainly By: 🧨⛓️📻 {{ Wilbur/Alastor }}

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