#Where to stay in Statue of Unity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jungwondazed · 10 months ago

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a kingdom by the forest

themes: historical forbidden love, royals and nobles, angst, sworn enemies, and slow burn.

warnings: NSFW WARNING for future parts, SFW for this chapter. not 100% historically accurate.

heeseung x reader; word count: 7.8k

PART ONE.

he had never captured her attention, not within the years of knowing each other through family rivalries, let alone in the middle of this village where he so happened to bump into her without notice.

she scoffed, head still turned around towards him as he walked away never looking back, disappearing into the large crowd of civilians.

the noble families throughout the land were fiercely competitive with one another. with hardly any room for friendly connections or conversation, the king’s opinion and words were the only ones that were valued. the royal family ruled the nations with an authoritative form of government, causing tensions to rise throughout the centuries.

once a year, the king hosted a grand summer celebration in his palace to celebrate the death of his queen. families from all different ranks and nations gathered together in respect to the royal family. the queen’s last wish was to bring back the once-chivalrous nature of this civilization.

nobles showed up with smiles and polite greetings but the glances and gazes around the room revealed everyone’s true jealous nature. the idea of unity between the aristocratic families in this lifetime was impossible, as parents taught their children to stay far away from those with a certain surname and if any of that is disobeyed the price to pay was never worth it.

heeseung was seen across the room, standing behind his mother and father, and side by side with his younger siblings. as the eldest son, he was held to an impossible standard that seeing how stoic and emotionless he was, came to no surprise. his family was highly respected and had a kind of wealth that wouldn’t run out for generations. working closely with the king during the war all those years ago earned them great status and appreciation from the everyday citizens.

he found a celebration like this superficial, scowling at how anyone’s death would warrant hundreds of people gathering together for drinks and dancing. if he was ever found dead and his loved ones threw a party for every passing year, he’d haunt them in their sleep. as his gaze scanned the room, he paused at the sight of her. heeseung mildly recalled bumping into her a few days ago and the obnoxious reaction that came out of it. the amusing part was he didn’t even notice her furrowed brows and disgusted gaze from the corner of his eye until he heard that dramatic scoff. that was the most attention she had ever given him, and it was strange that her presence at this celebration brought him to think of that moment. because it didn’t matter what her reaction was, none of it mattered at all as he was raised to keep his distance at best and think horribly of her at worst. heeseung’s face remained still when her gaze met his, and she quickly looked away with annoyance.

she was bored of these parties from the king, if it wasn’t a celebration for one thing it was for another. there was a grand gathering every few weeks and it did nothing to change the relations between the noble families. after complaining to her mother about yet another celebration of the queen’s death, one that she had been going to since childhood, her mother simply pulled at her hair a bit tighter than necessary to secure her up-do, before hissing in her ear that this was an honor.

sneaking off into the queen’s garden, she sat alongside the pond where she gazed at her reflection in the water. being the youngest daughter was miserable and boring. some would title it “the invisible child,” with all her older brothers being the center of attention at all times. due to their high status of being aristocrats, school was in her room at her desk with a hired private tutor. friends were not an option and the most conversation she got out of anyone by her age was telling a kid it was okay when they ran into her. loneliness was agonizing and she had fallen victim to it.

the fake laughter and string music coming from inside the palace was muffled, with the air’s gentle breeze being the only thing louder than the party. as she got lost in thought, a branch snapped to her left and her head immediately turned to the foreign sound. with her hyper awareness tuning into what that noise could have came from, only a cricket from a distance.

heeseung’s silohette comes from under the blossom tree and he holds back a laugh from the look on her face. the terror she displayed was amusing but giving her the reaction of anything near positive wasn’t something he would be able to do.

her shoulder’s drop, realizing that it wasn’t a secret asssassin that her brothers have scared her into believing her entire life and she immediately stands up to defend her spot being there first.

“you’re not supposed to be here,”

she wasn’t supposed to be speaking to him at all he says inside his head before he rolling his eyes and swatting his hand, ushering her to stop talking as he took a seat on a bench near the pond.

heeseung seemed unbothered by the encounter, getting lost in thought as he already had his pile of problems. the daughter of his family’s enemies were the least of his concerns, and if he had a bit more energy in him he would’ve just walked away and found his other usual spot. but with being around his family where looks and status mattered the most, things that meant absolutely nothing to him, the life was drained from his face and his eyes were as somber as ever. he rarely left his parent’s side at occasions like these and to spot him all alone, away from the crowd was a sight to see.

with no verbal response from heeseung, staring at him for a few minutes still in that same spot she grounded her feet in, she shakes her head before quietly leaving.

as the months passed and more gatherings were hosted by the king, heeseung and her formed a mutual respect where both would leave each other alone in the queen’s garden. there was perhaps a silent bond between the two where an escape from family matters meant a moment of tranquility. to her knowledge, none of this was against the rules as there was no form of contact. she tossed and turned and lost more sleep than usual as she meddled with this inner conflict. even though there was no acknowledgment let alone talking going on, the mere respect of one another’s space was still uncomfortable.

on a cold december the week before the winter ceremony, she set off into the village to gather gifts to bring for the king’s staff. giving back her thanks and appreciation to those who worked below the royals and nobles was something her parents wanted no involvement in as charity was highly frowned upon in such a high-class family. the constant clashing with her and her family’s beliefs forced her to sneak behind their back for lots of reasons, and buying gifts from the townspeople was certainly one of them.

with the lower half of her face covered with a small scarf, she purchases small items and fruit as gifts. bracelets that brought good luck and promised safety for the new year was one of her favorites to purchase, as she believed everyone deserved a bit of good fortune, rich or poor. as she made her way to the next stall of goods, smiling behind the thin cloth, she hears a roar of screams at a distance behind her. dropping the bracelet that was in her head like a knee jerk reaction, her eyes squint at a distance to make out where such screams could be coming from. there was never any trouble in the village this way, and it could have possibly been neighborhood kids fooling around on this busy day. but the blood rushing to her ears and the hair standing on her arms told the true horror of those screams, as they were far from screams of amusement.

bodies upon bodies come running in her direction, with civilians collapsing on one another, mothers grabbing their children and tripping, and elderly getting pushed and trampled on, all trying to make their way from the gathering of black horses ridden by men covered in masks with swords the length of their statures.

her breath hitches as she finally catches sight of the slaughter, feet barely picking up to run backward before her arm is grabbed and pulled away from the direction everyone was trying to get to.

the burning in her lungs feels like a blade to the chest, cold icy wind smacking her and she’s almost choking on the fabric that was meant to hide her appearance. they had been running for a few minutes and her adrenaline was wearing off, causing her to abruptly stop at one of the trees.

“w-what are you doing and where are we going we have to go back to help them-” she pants and heeseung comes to a halt, letting out a grunt of frustration as he catches his own breath and scans their surroundings. the forest was eerily quiet apart from the terror that was becoming distant from fleeing.

he towers over her, only a drip of sweat is spotted on his forehead as the winter air blows against them both. beginning to open his mouth before closing it again, he shakes his head and pulls her to run further along.

the terrain is rough beneath her feet and she thinks she might fall face flat if not for him dragging her up every time she almost slightly trips. there was a ringing she could hear that she couldn’t quite comprehend. whether it was the gushes of wind slicing past her ear or the thought processes firing from the sheer amount of horror she witnessed back there, her legs ripped from the constant spriting and she thought she could give it all up right there and then.

within another half mile, the two made it to the edge of the forest where she could slightly make out the massive palace they were both all too used to. what intrigues her is how he managed to navigate his way to the palace, as there was never a path on government-made maps that took you directly to the king’s square from that village. what troubled her more was why anyone would go through the forest for any form of shortcut, as her parents always warned her to stay on the carved-out paths.

at the gates, she has a widespread view of government officials and kingdom servants chaotically running around. shouting between one another when the king’s square was renowned for its charm and grandiosity, signaled that the recent mass killing in the village has caused disaster in the land.

heeseung pulls her along to sneak inside the palace, making their way into hallways located in a wing that she had never even heard of. ducking behind corners and statue monuments, he dragged her into a room at the end of the hall once the coast was clear. with the shutting of the door, the room turned almost black with just a bit of light left from the setting sun in the dark of winter, glimpsing through the one small window.

he finally catches his breath as his back presses against the wall and it is the only thing you can hear.

you stood there in silence, near impatience as your mind was trying to catch you up on what had just happened in the last hour. his firm grip on your wrist left a mark and you were sure that if you weren’t to rest soon your legs would give out.

tears threatened to prick your eyes as you recall the sounds and sight of men slashing bodies in two. in all your years of living here, there was never any violence or disruption. the land lived in peace since you were born and your entire life was at worst, glares from the other families. to see innocent civilians being murdered by masked men made your vision blurry and black, worrying for your own loved ones and at a complete lost as to where they are now.

you glanced over at heeseung and saw that he was troubled himself. his gaze was to the floor and he held in his terror well because if you hadn’t known what had happened you would’ve assumed he was just having his typical somber thoughts in the queen’s garden.

clearing your throat, you spoke up to finally break the silence.

“b-back there, what happened in the village, w-what happened back there and what was that? and why did you bring me here- and wh- what happens-“ you stopped when his eyes met yours and threw his head back against the wall, closing his eyes to take a deep inhale before opening them again.

“i don’t know.” he simply says, and it was the first time he’s ever spoken to you, you realize. and your face heats up in realization as you turn away to feign innocence from the bizarreness of it all. from the months of sharing spaces in the garden you never held a conversation let alone exchange any words with him.

you turn back to look at him and stop yourself from questioning anymore, as it seemed like the entire kingdom didn’t know either. you needed answers he probably didn’t have right now, like where your family was and where those men on horses came from. the land was surrounded by ocean and horses were only imported for the wealthy, having a horse for transportation was such a rarity that a storm of them coming into the middle of a village made no sense.

after a few quiet minutes and suddenly noticing the tapping of his foot on the floor, you realized how being alone in a room with one of your supposed sworn enemies was not a good look, and if anyone were to walk in and report to your family a massive shouting from your father was bound to happen. then again, was a scandal such as this any news as to what was going on out there? from the uproar in the front of the palace, there were surely no guards around checking in on rooms to hopefully catch someone who wasn’t supposed to be together. your face reddens at the idea of being caught and you almost wanna hide under the pillow as the scandalous nature of it all hits you. you had never been alone with a boy, let alone a boy from a family you were condemned to speak to. heeseung notices your fluster and shifts his gait to his other feet, clearing his throat to speak.

“i brought you here because if the men came from the southern part of town, it was dangerous to go back to our homes. the kingdom here is the most northern part and the only sanctuary we can stay in without endangering others. your head on a stick probably costs a thousand family’s lifetime savings and mine, even more. this is where we will stay for now-“

“but what about my family?” you let out, standing up in disbelief at the sudden hint of the southern part of the city being invaded. what could’ve possibly happened to mother, father, all your older siblings? you had no way of reaching out to them and this horrifies you into trying to leave the room before heeseung pulls back that same wrist he dragged you across the forest in. his grip is harsh around the tender joint’s and you pry his hands off with your other.

“you are not leaving. there is nothing you can do for yourself or for your family but wait. don’t jeopardize something when the best thing right now is to wait for the king’s orders.” he speaks harshly.

you ignore his comment and go for the door again which he shuts close. he was irritating in every way, how he handled you like you were someone he was close to, dragging you across the forest and forcing you to be here without a good enough explanation. giving you advice and suggestions as if either of you had the slightest clue what was going on. but despite his obnoxiousness he made a fair point, and storming out of the room would leave you standing outside the palace not knowing where to go next.

“trust me on this. and be thankful that i’m putting my differences aside to save your damn life right now-“

“i never asked for saving.” you interrupted him and stormed back into the bed, ending anymore kind of speaking between you two.

as morning peaks through the window you sit awake in the clothes from the previous day, hair still pulled up together with the pin in your hair. the tension at your scalp makes your head feel inflamed and you long for a hot bath in the coziness of your home bathroom. picking out the pin, your hair falls to your shoulders, and heeseung walks in the room with his clothes slightly undone, to which you assume he fell asleep on that small seating area across the bed.

once realizing you were well awake he strides to the end of your bed, giving you a scroll that he kept in his pocket.

“messages from the king that i collected from some of the officials this morning. everything out there is like hell.”

you blink at his words and note the frustration in his face, and the dark circles under his eyes. he let’s out a tired breath and runs his hand along his hair.

“the war from all those years ago when we were just children, the beginning of the war is rising again.” all of the blood that filled the veins in your face drained into a cold paleness. an unprecedented attack was surely not enough to dictate the beginning of war was it? were you too naive to see the struggles of the real world? was staying cooped in your family’s palace for years to shield you from the reality of all the nations?

“the kingdom is at risk of falling, and all the noble families are panicking. the king demands for all of them to gather here indefinitely.”

you read the words over and over on the scroll, in disbelief at how drastically everything changed in just a day. how people who hate each other can stand being in the same place all at once. would the darkness of war pressure these nobilities to hold each other’s hands and collaborate? will forceful teamwork end up breaking us apart even further?

“our families are here, and i’m sure they are expecting to see you soon. i would wash up and be on the way to them before another chaos uproars.”

to that, you nod and he makes his way out again, most likely going to his own family and you’re sure this is the last you guys will speak ever again. the first and last conversation with heeseung, was only for survival means. you can’t help but wonder where you would be right now if he wasn’t in the village at the same time as you. you can’t help but ponder if you would even be here at all. the thought of ever being in debt to someone you should have no ties with haunts you for the rest of the day, and you don’t notice the darkness of the night until you up in the middle of it.

the days ahead drag on as you are left in the dark while your family is in meetings from morning till sunrise, only making small talk with you and reminding you of your meals. the guest rooms assigned to each family are the size of a closet at everyone’s place back at their own home.

the loneliness you felt all your life creeps up again as you are isolated from the true horror outside these palace walls. for a few days, you were distracted by worry and what the plans are ahead, but with your family keeping you away from all these political endeavors you are left with the haunting feeling of isolation that you can’t even process it all in your own home. privacy was no longer a thing as you shared a room with your parents and siblings.

what terrifies you is how even in panic and confusion those few days ago, it felt better knowing anything, horrifying as it was, than nothing at all.

your hopes of this ending anytime soon are low, as the history you have been taught made you understand just how long the build-up of war is. being lectured on it was never enough to put the fear right in your body. seeing it for what it was in the flesh made you understand.

you spend the following weeks sneaking off into the room where you were first brought to, as you come to understand that no one stayed there and you wonder why. your mind started to question how he even knew of this place. for you to have absolutely no idea this wing even existed was telling, but for him to know of such a specific spot in this hidden area was another.

the idea of a promising noble son like him sneaking off into rooms that no others knew of made your face heat up and you cursed yourself at the thought of something like that. it wasn’t like you were being perverted, why else would anyone our age know about hidden rooms and corners? even though you weren’t supposed to, you read your fair share of entertainment from the restricted section of your family’s library. you were far from completely naive, and it was the only explanation that made sense. and that is exactly why and only why you would ever think of heeseung and private places in the same thought.

as the hours fly by, staring at the ceiling you don’t even notice the door open as heeseung storms inside, in pure anger from what it looks like, until he leans over the windowsill trying to catch his breath. his behavior takes you by surprise, having to hide your gasp behind your hand as he stands there fuming. the grip from his knuckles white and his chest rose up and down quickly. from all these months of noticing him, he has never worn an expression other than somber boredom, as if he was thinking about the answers to the universe’s questions all melancholicly. you couldn’t lie and wonder what he had to think about all the time, given that he had everything he could’ve ever asked for. the wealth, family, looks, pride, glory, whatever it is you could ever dream of he had. whatever hard time he was going through, you can’t imagine it being anything more complex than what kind of shoes he wants for the weekend.

as you sit there silently, your face reddens as you realize that you’ve been in the dark, the chances of you being there may have gone unnoticed by him. you clear your throat to which he softly startles and turns to your silhouette on that bed. he blinks rapidly, a feign glimpse of irritation fills his expression before he looks back at the window.

“what are you doing here?” he asks with an annoyed voice. you roll your eyes at his harshness and bite back an insult. teaching him a lesson about some manners would suit him right.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you bite back, hoping that would shut him up and leave you alone.

“i’m the one who showed you this room in the first place, and you’re asking me?”

your ears heat up and you quickly snap back at him.

“i found the garden first and yet i never gave you a hard time-“

he runs his hand through his hair and grunts in an irritating manner, before sitting down on the couch beside the window and getting lost in thought again.

his refusal to get into a superficial argument with you made you realize that perhaps you could’ve just answered him to his curiosity. your presence may have been unexpected as he did tell you about your family returning after all. maybe it was a bit rude of you to try bickering with him as he was evidently going through a rough time, god knows what it is, seeing as he’s always having a rough time. but perhaps this was a sign for you to step it back a bit and have some compassion, even if you weren’t supposed to like him, your heart wasn’t comfortable treating him as if he didn’t have feelings either.

even after you bumped heads with heeseung in the room, it didn’t stop you from coming, and it seems like it didn’t stop him either. it was like you both needed an escape. this was sort of like the queen’s garden, this is exactly what it was. you spent enough time there to know he treasured his dramatic thinking sessions just as much as you needed your alone time. but whatever his reasons were didn’t matter to you anyway, his business wasn’t yours and even keeping note of something like this made you shake your head and calm the heat from your face.

you couldn’t disregard how much you two have encountered one another these past few months, from the silent sitting in the garden together to this, and how you have grown to hate him less than you originally did. or maybe you still hate him and his existence was something you will have to tolerate if you wanted some peace for yourself. that peace being a room with four walls.

the painful realization of how much you were trying to rationalize being okay with his presence made you feel like you were reaching into danger territory, and that staying inside these walls for weeks was probably regressing your mental stability more than you thought. thinking about heeseung in any way was inappropriate, he was a stranger at best. he was a rival, an enemy, someone you aren’t supposed to speak to or have relations with. you didn’t speak to him much, so you were in a safe spot. you made note of this, you reassured yourself that whatever this was, was fine.

it makes you self-conscious, and over the next couple of days you’re hyper-aware of his presence in the room even if he is just simply sitting there sulking in his thoughts. your eyes sometimes glance over at him and you blame it on the boredom of this palace with absolutely nothing to do but ponder your relationships with your once sworn enemies.

you think he realizes the difference in behavior as he sometimes raises his brows when he makes eye contact with you in the room and your gaze quickly shifts somewhere else, pretending you weren’t looking in his direction at all.

you grow to spend your nights in that room too, sometimes falling asleep on the bed and waking up to see him still sleeping on that long couch. he was like a roommate almost, if this is even considered a decent living corridor. it had a full bathroom and a wardrobe. it was about the same size as your family’s current guest room. your excuse for staying here is that it’s a bigger space to stay, because what’s worse than having to share a room with your entire family? surely not heeseung? you ask yourself this question and get red when you realize your answer.

he sometimes brought you breakfast, almost every day now. you tell yourself that it had nothing to do with kindness and hospitality but something along the lines of duty, like not letting people starve. he only didn’t bring food when he had his eldest son duties and he didn’t show up at all that day. you started keeping track of when he showed up. wednesdays, fridays, saturdays, and sundays. and it was the end of thursday, and he was surely to show up tomorrow. of course the most you were looking forward to was the breakfast that would be laid out on the table, that was exactly why.

you made small talk, asking him for updates on what was going on and he insisted you shouldn’t know and to let everyone else handle it. maybe it was to keep yourself safe in this lonely room, away from the stress of the world. but you wanted to know more, and you insisted on it.

heeseung slowly told you bits and pieces here and there, but more surprisingly he grew to open up about his frustration, his stress. it first started with small complaints of “i just want this over with” to gradually telling you about his struggles with assisting the officials about the war. plans for civilian housing, emergency evacuation, things that you wouldn’t even want to dream about. he talks about how much he’s trying to hold it together, and how hard it’s weighing on him.

a small part of you can’t help but feel for him, in a way you have never before. that he’s just someone who’s your age with much higher stakes and responsibilities. and even if he was used to this his whole life, surely it breaks you at some point. you wonder why he was choosing to open up with you about it.

in return, you talk about how difficult it is to deal with such a strict family. and you two begin to bond over the shared struggle, finding out how much you relate to one another in that regard. ranting about your family values and beliefs was something you had never done before. arguing with them about it hardly counted as a conversation, so to be open about a topic like this was quite foreign. it’s a strange feeling to connect with someone you barely paid attention to your entire life, to realize how close in nature you are with heeseung. but it also made you wary of how much information was too much.

on a cold friday evening, in the middle of you and heeseung talking to each other across the room about the usual nobility rantings, you both hear footsteps coming towards the room. in all your weeks there, never had you heard anyone roam around these hallways as it was such a private part of the palace you were sure no one went here.

immediately you both run to hide inside the small bathroom, shutting the door close right when the room to the door opened. footsteps enter and you thank yourself for tidying the place and bed in the afternoon. nothing appeared on the table next to the couch where you were just sitting, and even if there was a few objects out of place it couldn’t have been enough for anyone to recognize how occupied the room had been.

you can’t make out exactly what they’re saying, faintly something along the lines of how this room isn’t made for family guest rooms and it once belonged to the queen’s closest guests, and entrance without invitation was forbidden. you wonder if heeseung was granted access to this room because of his family’s close ties with the king and queen, and you’re sure this was exactly why. in moments like these it hits you just how much the royals favored his family, which came as a surprise to you as your father had been fighting for a rank besides the king his entire life.

you become impatient with how long it takes for them to argue on the restrictiveness of the room, and you finally hear heeseung’s soft breathing right beside your ear. having focused on what was being said on the opposite side of the door, you didn’t realize how close he was. how his face was a few inches from yours, how you could feel his inhale and exhale.

with the flush in your face, you’re thankful the two of you are standing in pitch-black darkness, only light coming from under the small gap in the door. your face is almost touching his chest as he presses his hands against the door to keep it shut, trapping you in between. trying to to force your head back away from him, you gently meet the door and cringe at the small sound it may have made.

with how quickly you two rushed to the bathroom you don’t think the idea of how close you two were together caught up with either of you until the minutes became too long. and now that you realize the proximity you almost don’t know what to do with yourself. you’re sure he doesn’t realize it either, given how he remains there, still focused on trying to hear what was being said out there. whatever they were talking about left your mind the second you realized his presence. you count down the seconds to get out of here, embarrassed at how he could remain at such a distance, cursing yourself for not just standing at the other side of the bathroom.

once the room was finally quiet after the door on the outside opened and close, he finally backs up and opens the door, allowing you to process what had just happened. to process the feel of his breath faintly touching the tip of your ear.

heeseung doesn’t come for a few days, not the wednesday, friday or saturday. and it throws you off routine as those days were usually meant for long conversations with him, and breakfast of course.

you think back to the bathroom incident and question if that made him realize how dangerously close you two were getting. the close meaning of sharing small talk about noble families and simply residing in the same guest room together. it was hardly close, and he would be utterly dramatic for stopping all relations with you if this was the reason why for his strange disappearance. although, with what happened in the bathroom, you wonder if he pondered it over too. how he stood right there, not very far from you in the dark where no one else would’ve saw.

it was sunday evening and he came in through the door to which you were not expecting, sporting a black eye and what seemed like a small cut along his cheek. you gasped in horror and he shakes his head to get you to back off with any questions. since when was it appropriate for any child of a high-regarded nobleman to be seen walking around with cuts and bruises? does he have any idea what kind of reputation could form from looking like a street fighter?

you sit there fighting the urge not to do anything as none of this was your business. he may have taken up some fighting lessons on his own maybe and got hit by a forest tree. that made the most sense to you. because heeseung is not suposed to be fighting anyone. your teacher taught you the basics of wound cleaning and dressing, and you recall the kind of treatment needed for the skin on one’s face. he stands there at the windowsill like he always does, gazing out into the night sky as if it was any more interesting by the day.

you sit up and move close to him to see the damage and he doesn’t acknowledge your presence.

“what happened to your eye? and your cheek- it’s bleeding,” you ask gently as possible, a bit of your voice trembling.

he doesn’t answer and you walk into the bathroom to gather some supplies that were stored in one of the drawers. maybe he’ll see how you’re trying to help and take you seriously. enemies or not, being people under the same king meant you were to assist with anyone who was harmed.

he shakes his head again as you bring everything to the table and sit on the couch, waiting for a few minutes in hopes of him finally sitting down. a hundred questions race through your mind. who could do this to one of the most sought out sons within all these noble families? was it an outsider? was it his own? it was no wonder his absence this past week made you feel a bit anxious. there was something wrong.

you urge him to lay down, sitting up from the couch so he has room. he doesn’t move, still staring out there, grip as tight as ever.

you lay out a small bandage, a bowl with warm water, and a towel for him if he decides to use it. embarrassment floods your face at trying to initiate such a gesture, and you quickly put away the rest of the supplies. perhaps you had overstepped a boundary, and you were the last thing he needed to see.

by the time you hit the bed and try to sleep, he had still not moved an inch.

you wake up to an empty room, the supplies from last night still laid out on the table but there was also that tray of breakfast you had been missing all week. you hoped he was okay because seeing civilians hurt and bruised would never be something you could ever get used to. supposed enemy or not.

he doesn’t come for a couple of weeks, and you only see him in passing, him looking more worn down than ever. he never meets your gaze either, and you wonder if the connection you thought you two had was something you made up in your head. that in a world where you know nothing about friendship and relationships outside of your family, that what you two shared was nothing to be hopeful for.

you still sleep in that room every night, better than sharing it with your family who have only grown more agitated. being with them meant another headache and the quietness of this private room was your own personal safety net.

everything was going to be okay, there was always a solution to problems, any problem would be met with an answer, and that worrying did nothing. hoping and moping around did nothing. you counted the paint marks on the ceiling, and the walls, you tapped your finger to count the seconds, you did anything to keep yourself occupied.

your thoughts wondered to him, seeing the small wound that was now scabbed on his face. you were sure you could have healed it days ago if he had let you, but maybe it was better this way, not being acknowledged at all. he can care for his own self, you were nothing to him.

heeseung walks in that night with a cut lip and a bruised body, his clothes having slash marks with stains of dry blood and you’re horrified once again. to no surprise, he’s standing at the windowsill only this time his eyes were no longer to the window. his head hung forward, gaze steady on the floor. the tiredness seemed gruesome, the usual straight posture he had was not weak and wimp.

you analyzed all the wounds you could see at a distance from the bed. his face was worse than last time and whatever happened to his body made your fingers tremble. staying focused and alert was harder for you this time than last, given the severity of it. maybe he was training, this had to be it. but why would someone like him have to go through military training? none of it made any sense.

for a few minutes, you debate on whether you should try again. know your place, you must know your place. help him, he’s hurting. he doesn’t need your help. his wounds are bleeding.

he interrupts your thoughts by weakly limping to the couch, his hands reaching for the seat to steady himself down. there’s a grimace from him you hadn’t seen before. the blood seeping through the fabric looked old and dirty and you had to fight everything in you not to go up to him and insist once again. you pick at your fingers, anxious on what to do. who can rest when a panting hurting man is on the couch across from them.

“take your clothes off.” you tell him before you can stop yourself, and his eyes that were set on the floor looks up at you in a perplexed manner.

you redden at the double meaning of your words and shook your head in apology. turning your head into your shoulders slightly at how incredibly thoughtless saying that was.

“i’m sorry, i- i meant to take it off because the blood is dry and the wound is old, and keeping that fabric on it will increase the risk of infection. i encourage you to go to the bathroom and clean it up yourself.” you quickly let out all in one breath and he doesn’t move at all.

after an hour or so of you beating yourself up for that awful slip up and even speaking up at all, he walks weakly to the bathroom, spending a very long time in there to which you start to worry.

he appears from the bathroom right when you’re about to sit up and he makes his way back to the couch, his clothes unbuttoned and his cuts opened. you hiss at how it looks and scrunch your face imagining the pain. you try to ignore everything else that is exposed, only trying to look at the wounds.

heeseung decides to lay down this time, head resting on the hard couch pillow, finally laying flat on his back. he gently groans as the couch fabric hits his back and you almost can’t take it anymore. sleep shortly finds him and it is the first time you have seen him asleep before you.

his wounds look bad, really bad. and if you don’t do something you may regret it. there was no way he’d accept your help now, after not speaking for weeks. why did he even come here at all then if he knew you would be here? maybe he was trying to get you to leave this room by keeping it completely abandoned and only coming back after he waited it out. you finally accept that if he wasn’t going to be okay with your help you would do him a slight favor anyway and hope you never have to speak to him again. like a silent healer who snuck into infirmaries for the sick.

you rush to the bathroom, pulling the supplies you once did and move slowly back to the table. your movements are soft, trying not to make a sound as you lay out the cloth pieces and herbs. one herb for each wound, and one piece of fabric as well. you count the pieces to assure everything was correct, and then wet the small towel inside the bowl.

when you turn to him to clean his wounds, you gasp as his eyes are slightly open, fluttering open and shut.

“you- you’re awake? i’m sorry i was just trying to-“ you start trying to explain but his eyes are closed once again.

he didn’t seem to stop you when he saw what you were doing, for who knows how long. silence didn’t mean yes, but you can’t take no for an answer right now anyway, and you gently tend to the wounds on his upper body and arms. it takes a long time, about an hour almost. being as detail-oriented as you were, everything had to be done with precision. not being able to reach his back, you lay out the extra supplies for him if he chooses to use them.

helping him was strange, in the sense that you never really had to help anyone this way at all. being taught the basics of wound care dind’t mean you ever got to apply it. this was all academics, bragging rights, and merit. stuff your teacher taught you as a life skill. to be useful in this way was unfamiliar, but a sense of duty fulfills you. perhaps you did have a purpose in this war, a purpose if at all. you could be a daughter locked away for your parents to control, or you could be a valuable asset to a terrible time where lives are lost and injured left and right. you cared for his wounds because this is something you are innately born to do, to help and assist the sick and the ill. this was the explanation you chose for yourself while working on heeseung, this was what you were to believe.

as you check through every bandage one last time, his eyes open slowly again, blinking open a few times.

you still yourself, your right hand still touching the bandage near his chest. it felt childish to act like you were caught doing something like your mom seeing you sneaking in a sweet to your room. you freeze anyway, hoping he would fall asleep again. please just fall asleep again, rest yourself heeseung.

he doesn’t close his eyes for what felt like minutes when it was really only 10 seconds. he lets out a soft breath, closing his eyes as if he were squirming, opening them again. you look down at his chest and stomach area and see the medicine seeping through the bandages, most likely hitting his flesh now. his gaze is still on you, and his hands are about to reach up to his chest where your hands are, to which you assumed he was trying to slap your fingers away.

before he can make it to your hand, his wrist collapses weakly at his side, fingers twitching from the pain of the cut down his sleeve and your first instinct is to reach out to make sure he was okay, to reach for his hand and assess it in your own.

maybe it was the caring nature in you that goes out of your way to help any creature in pain but a small part of you brushed away the idea that perhaps there was the beginning of a subconscious care you had for him.

whatever it was, there was no time to dissect complex feelings when it seemed like everyone around you was reaching a breaking point, mentally or physically. and with the rate of which everyone was going down one by one, the question of whether this war will end soon or has just begun haunts you.

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blackstarlineage · 3 months ago

Text

Overemphasis on Individual Success Over Collective Upliftment: A Garveyite Perspective

Introduction: The Illusion of Personal Success Without Community Progress

One of the greatest obstacles to Black liberation is the modern emphasis on individual achievement over collective advancement. While personal success is important, it is often used as a distraction from the larger reality of Black economic and political disempowerment worldwide. Many successful Black individuals achieve fame and wealth, but their accomplishments do not translate into community-wide upliftment.

From a Garveyite perspective, this focus on individual success is a symptom of colonial brainwashing, designed to:

Encourage Black people to pursue personal wealth instead of nation-building.

Divide the community by rewarding a few individuals while keeping the masses oppressed.

Maintained black economic dependency by preventing group wealth accumulation.

If Black people do not prioritize collective economic and political power, they will remain powerless, no matter how many individual success stories exist. A few wealthy Black individuals can not uplift an entire race—the whole community must rise together.

1. The Historical Roots of Individualism Over Collectivism in Black Societies

A. The Destruction of Communal African Societies by Colonialism

Before European colonization, African societies were community-driven and operated on collective wealth-building, where:

Families and tribes pooled resources to benefit the whole group.

Decisions were made with the future of the entire community in mind.

Leadership was about service, not personal enrichment.

Example: The Igbo, Akan, and Zulu people practised communal land ownership and cooperative economics, ensuring generational wealth within their communities.

Key Takeaway: African societies thrived on collectivism before colonialism introduced individualistic capitalism.

B. How Slavery and Colonialism Forced Black People Into Individual Struggles

During slavery, Black people were:

Taught to see each other as competition for survival rather than allies in resistance.

Forced into labour systems that rewarded individual servitude rather than group economic control.

Conditioned to seek personal advancement under white supremacy instead of building Black power.

Example: Enslaved Africans were given small privileges for betraying or outperforming others, creating a system where personal survival took precedence over collective unity.

Key Takeaway: Slavery and colonialism conditioned Black people to prioritize individual survival over group progress.

C. The Post-Colonial and Civil Rights Shift Towards Tokenism

After legal independence and civil rights movements, Western societies:

Selected a few Black individuals for high-status positions to create the illusion of racial progress.

Used successful Black figures as proof that racism was 'over' while the majority still suffered.

Promoted celebrities and business elites while discouraging collective Black economic power.

Example: The election of Barack Obama was used as proof that America had 'moved past racism', even though Black communities still faced economic and political oppression.

Key Takeaway: A few elite individuals can not uplift an entire people—the community must have collective power.

2. The Modern Consequences of Over-Prioritizing Individual Success

A. The Failure to Build Generational Black Wealth

Because Black success is focused on individual achievement rather than group economics, we see:

Successful Black athletes and entertainers earning millions, but their communities staying poor.

No major Black-owned banking system or corporate infrastructure.

Black wealth disappearing after one generation instead of being passed down.

Example: Many wealthy Black celebrities spend money on luxury goods instead of investing in Black businesses and institutions.

Key Takeaway: Individual wealth does not lead to collective upliftment without economic reinvestment.

B. The Lack of Political Power Despite Black Representation

Even as more Black people hold government positions, there is little change for the larger Black community because:

Black politicians often serve within white-controlled political systems, limiting their impact.

There is no Pan-African political unity—African nations, Caribbean nations, and Black Americans act separately.

Black leaders are encouraged to focus on personal careers rather than movement-building.

Example: Many Black politicians rise to power but do not push policies that directly benefit the global Black population.

Key Takeaway: Representation is meaningless without policies that empower the entire community.

C. The Continued Economic Dependency on Non-Black Entities

Even with Black success in various industries, Black communities:

Still rely on non-Black-owned corporations for jobs and services.

Spend their wealth outside of their own communities instead of circulating it.

Have little economic self-determination because they do not own production industries.

Example: Despite a growing number of Black billionaires, Black people still depend on non-Black banks, businesses, and investors for financial security.

Key Takeaway: A race without economic control will always be economically enslaved.

3. The Garveyite Solution: Restoring Collective Upliftment Over Individualism

A. Promoting Cooperative Economics Over Individual Wealth Accumulation

Black communities must:

Prioritize group investment in Black-owned businesses, banks, and industries.

Encourage pooling resources for community development projects.

Build financial institutions that serve collective Black interests instead of relying on white-owned banks.

Example: Marcus Garvey’s Negro Factories Corporation was designed to keep Black wealth within the Black world through cooperative economics.

Key Takeaway: Black wealth must serve the people, not just a few individuals.

B. Creating Pan-African Networks for Economic and Political Power

Black nations and communities must:

Develop strong trade relationships between Africa, the Caribbean, and Black America.

Form political alliances that focus on global Black self-determination.

Use collective bargaining power to push for international policies that benefit the Black world.

Example: The African Union and CARICOM should work closely with Black communities in America and Europe to strengthen global Black power.

Key Takeaway: Black people worldwide must unite economically and politically to create collective progress.

C. Shifting Black Leadership from Celebrity Culture to Community Investment

Black leaders must:

Focus less on individual fame and more on grassroots empowerment.

Use their platforms to build institutions that serve future generations.

Advocate for Black self-sufficiency instead of assimilation into white-controlled systems.

Example: Instead of spending millions on luxury goods, Black athletes and entertainers should fund Black schools, banks, and business incubators.

Key Takeaway: Leadership is about uplifting the masses, not personal gain.

D. Teaching Collective Responsibility in Black Education Systems

Black educational institutions must:

Teach students about Pan-Africanism and cooperative economics.

Instill the idea that individual success is meaningless without community progress.

Develop programs where Black students learn how to reinvest wealth into their communities.

Example: Schools should teach about Black Wall Street, the UNIA, and other models of group economic success instead of only focusing on individual success stories.

Key Takeaway: If Black children are not taught collective responsibility, they will grow up chasing personal success instead of community empowerment.

Conclusion: Will Black People Keep Focusing on Individual Success, or Build Collective Power?

Marcus Garvey said:

“The ends you serve that are selfish will take you no further than yourself, but the ends you serve that are for all, in common, will take you into eternity.”

Will Black people continue glorifying individual success while the community remains economically weak?

Will we prioritize collective wealth and power over short-term personal achievement?

Will Black leaders serve their people, or will they only seek status and riches for themselves?

The Choice is Ours. The Time is Now.

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girlactionfigure · 16 days ago

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People always ask—why are Jews so overprotective of one another?

Why do they risk careers, relationships, and even destroy reputations just because someone didn’t treat a fellow Jew right? Why the fuss? Why the loyalty? Why don’t we see this kind of family-like support in any other religion?

The answer is actually very simple: It’s because we’re not just a religion.

In fact, religion is probably the last thing that binds us together. What makes Jews inseparable goes way deeper than beliefs or traditions. It’s something real, factual, and unshakable.

We’re a family.

That’s how it all started. Judaism didn’t begin as a religion. It began as a family that eventually added religion, and later became a nation.

Once upon a time, there was this guy named Abraham. We all know him. But most people don’t realize how different he was. While his parents and siblings bowed to idols and followed the pagan lifestyle around them, Abraham—at just three years old—started questioning everything. In his young and brilliant mind, it just didn’t add up. How could the sun be God if it disappears? Why worship statues made by humans? It didn’t make sense.

So he searched. Explored. And eventually, he found the one true God.

This God told him something wild: you can’t stay in your father’s home. You have to leave. Alone. No map. No plan. Just trust. Abraham left and settled in the land of Canaan. He waited his whole life for a child, and finally, at 100 years old, he had a son—Isaac. God then told him to do the unthinkable—to sacrifice that son. Abraham was ready to do it, only for God to stop him at the very last moment. That test sealed something eternal. God promised him that from this one boy, a nation would rise. One that would one day inherit the land of Israel.

Isaac had two kids—Esau and Jacob. Esau was a man of the field, a wild barbarian. Jacob was different—quiet, thoughtful, the kind of guy who stayed home and studied. Jacob had 12 sons. Those 12 would become the 12 tribes of Israel.

At this point, we were still just a family. A big one, yes—but still a family. All direct grandchildren of Jacob.

Later on, because of a famine and also because of the whole story with Joseph, Jacob and his children moved to Egypt. But after Jacob and his sons passed away, things changed. Their children—his grandchildren—were enslaved by the Egyptians for 210 years.

And still—they weren’t a religion yet. Just one large family.

Then came Moses.

God sent him to get us out. But before turning us into a proper nation, God took us all to Mount Sinai and gave us the Torah. That’s when we were no longer just a family—we became a religion too. Now we had rules, laws, customs. A lifestyle that connected us not just by blood, but by faith.

After 40 years in the desert, Joshua—Moses’ student—led us into the land God had promised Abraham centuries earlier. With God’s help, we conquered it. And once we settled there, we finally became a nation.

From family → to religion → to nation.

We lived there for hundreds of years. We had kings. Prophets. Judges. We built a Temple in Jerusalem. This wasn’t a bunch of tents anymore—we were an actual civilization. But over time, we messed up. We fought. We sinned. We lost the unity. And eventually, God exiled us. We were thrown out of our land.

This is where most nations would’ve disappeared.

But we didn’t.

For nearly 2,000 years we were scattered across the world. Homeless. Hated. Mocked. Demonized. Persecuted. Killed in the millions.

But here’s what most people don’t understand—we didn’t just survive.

We kept building. Wherever we landed, we rebuilt. We started new schools, opened synagogues, taught our kids, wrote books. We passed the Torah from father to son, mother to daughter, generation to generation. No army. No land. No government. Just memory and faith.

Empires came and went. But we were still here.

And then... we came home.

After 2,000 years of exile, the impossible happened. The nation of Israel returned to the land of Israel.

This is why we’re so overprotective.

Because you can maybe try to take Judaism out of a Jew and you can unfortunately succeed at times—but you’ll never be able to take the Jew out of the Nation of Israel. It’s not a belief system you can opt out of. It’s in our DNA. It’s who we are.

You can’t turn an African into a non-African. You can’t turn an Asian into a non-Asian. You can’t undo that. It’s factual. It’s in their DNA.

Same with us.

We are not like Christians, Buddhists, or Muslims. Those are religions you choose, and you can with just a change of leave it. Judaism on the other hand, you’re born into it. You’re grafted into a 3,000-year-old family tree, whether you like it or not.

That’s why we go crazy when someone touches one of our own. That’s why you see the outrage, the support, the screaming from every corner of the world when one Jew is mistreated. It’s not just loyalty—it’s blood. That actor, that soldier, that student, that businessman, that random stranger halfway across the globe—they’re not just fellow Jews.

They’re family.

And when it comes to family—you fight. You sacrifice. You stand up. You never let it go, you are ready to lose everything for them.

@AP_from_NY

#Jews #Judaism

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hoodedboy79 · 11 months ago

Note

Hey. I just saw your post of the idea to write about Assassins Creed. It’s lovely to see someone who would write about the Assasins, like Bayek (he doesn’t get enough love). I don’t have anything particular in mind but I’d love to see some/or reactions of some kind of Bayek, Arno and/or any you feel comfortable with. Have a nice day :))

Being Best Friends With Them: Bayek, Arno & Jacob.

Just to start off with I'm sorry this took so long for me to do but I've got major writers block atm so these might be ass but I tried. Also Arno might be extra ooc cuz I only brought Unity a few days ago when it went on sale and haven't done more than the beginning yet so apologies in advance 😅

================

Bayek

• The most loyal, lifelong friend you're ever going to get right here.

• Even if you two don't see each other as often anymore after Bayek became a Medjay and started a family.

• Talking about him starting a family, you were one of the first people he told when he found out Aya was expecting.

• Invites you over regularly to eat dinner with him and his family, along with Hepzefa and Rabiah if they are free.

• He loves that his closest people get on so well.

• You accompanying him, Khemu and Chenzira on their hunting trips.

• As much as he wants to confide in you after Khemu's death and Aya's departure, he can't bring himself to. Not only because he doesn't want to speak about it when the wound is so fresh but he doesn't want to burden you with his feelings.

• So he doesn't say much to you before leaving to track down the Heron.

• When he eventually returns, and is in a slightly better headspace than before he left, he was happy to see you, and Hepzefa, waiting for him.

• You two have a lot to catch up on.

Arno

• Will silently judge every stupid decision you make, his face tells you exactly what he wants to say though to the point it doesn't feel as 'silent' anymore.

• He will help you clean up and or defend you from the consequences of said stupid decision though.

• The type to have clothes made for you, regardless of your social status.

• Depending on your personality, there's going to be a LOT of disagreements between you two due to Arno's stubbornness (and yours, potentially) but he's willing to come to a compromise with you after enough back and forth, he probably won't admit if he was wrong though.

• Arno never truly gets over Élise and has times where his grief rears it's head, sometimes he'll allow you to comfort him even if it's just by sitting in the same room in silence while you both get on with your own things or other times he'll avoid everyone completely and try to keep himself busy with random tasks till he feels ready to see people again.

• Would like to visit the theatre with you occasionally or just relax for once and have a discussion about art or the newest plays.

• Gossip duo 💅🏻

Jacob

• Sheer pandemonium.

• You two together brings the fear of God into people.

• Spending hours with him in the pub, whether it be indulging in drinking games, playing Whist (don't worry he won't drown you in the river if you beat him) or just chatting with the Rooks, Jacob will make sure you enjoy yourself and hopefully get you to stay just another hour (and buy another round).

• Tells Maxwell about you and eventually invites you to accompany them on one of their random outings.

• We all know how that eventually ends.

• Both of you teasing Evie about Henry. Jacob will definitely turn on you though if he finds out you are courting someone/being courted, it isn't just Evie he's willing to tease.

• He would find out as much as he could about the person that you're interested in, especially if their the one trying to court you. He's been betrayed by people close to him before and doesn't want you to go through the same thing if he can help it.

• He'll make almost everything a (friendly) competition with you; Who can climb this building faster? Who can kill the most Blighters in this random street fight? Who can escape the police quicker?, things like that. Evie will even sometimes join in, which usually ends with the twins bickering after she wins.

• You and Jacob really do share the same braincell at times fr.

==============

I haven't done any hc's in a hot minute and I can see why lol. Maybe I'll rewrite these one day or add to it I dunno.

#assassins creed #assassins creed x reader #assassins creed origins #assassins creed syndicate #assassins creed unity #assassins creed headcanons #jacob frye #bayek of siwa #assassin's creed bayek #ac #ac bayek #evie frye #frye twins #arno dorian #ac arno #platonic

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cursecuelebre · 2 months ago

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All about Lady Vesta/Hestia the Greco-Roman Goddess of the Hearth

Attributes

Hearth

Home

Family

Marriage

Children

Faith

Bakers

Cooking

Symbols

The Donkey

Fire

The hearth (Fireplace, Kettle, Cauldron, brazen)

The Veil

Freshly cut flowers

The oven

Torches

Modern:

Cats (my own connection I don’t know I associate Hestia and Vesta with cats)

Brooms

The Kitchen stove

Fabric arts

The color white

Tarot

Strength

The Star

Queen of Pentacles

Four of swords

Four of wands

Ten of cups

Ten of pentacles

Empress

Ace of wands

Offerings

Home cooked meals, especially wheat, bread, or pastries anything that is made in a bakery.

Incense like Myrrh and Frankincense

Setting family pictures on the altar

Piece of fabric art

Cleaning the house

Laundry, cleaning clothes

Singing while working in Ancient Rome and Greece it was normal for women to sing while looming

If accessible a fire pit or fire place offering the hearth to her, (you don’t need a statue for her if you don’t wish to) but you can put a statue above the fireplace. Vesta keeps the fire burning in hearths. Campfires are also valid.

Heating in modern times we don’t need to have constant fires going but we do have heat from boilers, heating pads, heating in cars, etc.

At the end of each offering of a different god say a devotional prayer to Vesta

Any fire related: Candles, incense, lighters, matches, pictures of fire, fire safe dishes. Vesta was seen as personified flame rarely depicted as human. So that small flame can be Vesta herself.

General Information

Lady Vesta/Hestia is if not the most venerated and worshipped goddess in Greco-Roman religion being a very important goddess to worship but also her symbol in the ancient society of Greece and Rome. Vesta has been more merged with Hestia her Greek counterpart with very little difference. Her name means “to stay or to dwell”. Hestia/Vesta is the goddess of family, marriage, household, unity, and domestic life. Both mythologies Hestia is the daughter of Rhea and Cronus being the first born of the six children, but by being eaten she is the youngest to be born as she was last to be thrown up from her father’s stomach. She was sought to be wife by Apollo and Poseidon but she rejected and asked Zeus to remain eternally a virgin and remain at the Olympian hearth which he granted. When talking about Hestia we’re talking about the hearth itself though there are statues and human representation Hestia is personified as fire of the hearth in Roman civilization it’s rare to see Vesta as a human. When one is evoking Hestia/Vesta and offering over fire you’re literally seeing her manifest on earth. One of the important myths about the hearth is when Prometheus steals fire for humanity, the fire was from the Olympian Hearth. The Gods especially Zeus believed that only the gods should harness power of fire since it was a very powerful tool and potential a weapon among humanity. Call it being careful or selfish because it didn’t matter Prometheus stole it and gave to humankind it didn’t end well for Prometheus but it shows how sacred and important fire to people at the time. Fire doesn’t just help you cook or keep you warm but it can be use as a tool to create light, weapons of metal, jewelry, melting metals, and burning wood, plus it’s a purifying element in Greece and Rome though this can be useful these can be dangerous and led to dangerous situations to people and the environment.

Of how important the hearth was, in the homes the hearth would be in center of the household for gatherings social and family it be indoors with proper ventilation or outdoors. This where household worship be center in, one were to cook, work on house chores, domestic hobbies like weaving, taking care of their children all surrounding the hearth. It was the light of the home, essential to keep warm and cook uncooked meat, boil water keep it clean. Everyone in every class relied heavily on the hearth hence why Vesta/Hestia is so important. At the end of the prayers to the gods it be proper to start and end with additional prayers to Hestia/Vesta in giving offerings one will burn them through the hearth to give thanks and praise to her. A city state hearth in Ancient Greece were be situated in a council hall as a beacon and public for sacrifices and had priests and priestesses for Hestia. The Olympics including in modern day which the natives of that city will light the hearth wherever the Olympics is held in, today this tradition is carried on. Another tradition in Rome when traveling away from one’s household they would take statues of their loved ones and embers from the hearth to stay close to home always.

In Ancient Rome, Vesta was worshipped with other household spirits like Lares and Penates. She would have a shrine rare if it had a human representation for her. In state worship in took place in a circular temple as a public hearth which the flame would be always attended by the Vestal Virgins, these were six priestesses that would serve the goddess for 30 years without ever marrying the decades which served as stages being (novice, service, teacher) after their mandatory service they get to choose if they want to leave with a pension and be married or stay single still be very well sought out and respected in society no matter if she was single even have unique rights as a woman to own their own property or be a Occia, a Vestal who renewed her vows and staying longer than mandatory service. Though this service they are expected to uphold vows like chasity and celibacy if any these vows were to be defiled or broken they be punished severely even sentence to death. One of the important task is to keep the perpetual fire burning til March 1st (Roman New Year) and relight rhe flame for the new year but it should never be extinguished purposefully. The temple was open to the public except once a year Vestalia that held in June 7-15 for Vesta, the temple was only open for women especially mothers that can walk into the temple typically barefooted, the last day will have a ceremonial sweeping of the temple as this time was full of ill omens and won’t be completed until the sweepings were dispose of typically throwing them into the Tiber River.

Vesta is often associated with the donkey because to run the millstone for flour a donkey was used to run the mill. She is associated with Fornax either a spirit or goddess of ovens also Cacus and Caca (not that word in Spanish) whom were primitive fire spirits. If she is depicted as a human she would be holding a kettle and cut flowers. She is connected to women a lot since women were caregivers of the home and the hearth but she was open to all of men and children. The Vestal Virgins kept the perpetual fire burning out of gratitude for Vesta’s charity and care of people. Until 394 CE Christian Emperor Theodosius disbanded the Vestal Virgins and prohibited the worship of Vesta along with the other gods by closing temples and schools. After one thousand years of the perpetual sacred fire burning was extinguished. Vesta was known as Mater or Mother, the purest of Roman deities, the eternal Virgin inspiring the vestals.

#paganism #witchcraft #hellenic polytheism #norse paganism #helpol #traditional witchcraft #vesta #hestia #roman polytheism #hearth #hearth goddess #hearth witch #fire #fire magic

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fanfic-lover-girl · 9 days ago

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Why I picture the big three kids with Jason instead of Thalia

Now I have seen at least two posts which I am 90% sure I have queued for reblog where the people claim that the concept of the male little three is due to sexism. That it should be:

Percy, Thalia, Nico or

Percy, Jason, Hazel

But honestly I reject this form of fandom policing. When I got into pjo fandom and I hardly knew who Nico even was, I preferred the male little three fanarts over the ones with Thalia, and after knowing a bit more canon, my preference is solidified.

Hazel is cool, but since I haven't spent time learning about HOO, I don't care much about her or the other HOO characters. Plus, I find Nico way cooler as a Hades kid than her. His powers are awesome!

Here are my simple, non-sexist reasons for preferring Percy, Jason and Nico as my big three kids, instead of Thalia:

Character preference:

TLDR - I dislike Thalia. Neutral on Jason. Next!

Fanart Aesthetic:

I just think the boys look better together than Thalia with her cousins. One of my favourite fanarts of them is the ones where they have Ancient Greek outfits with the laurels. They are so cute! There's something about Thalia that doesn't make her fit. Not a fan of punk characters and with her hunters' get-up, she doesn't belong in my opinion. Especially as the boys get older and she's stuck as a teenager. Not my vibe.

Jason has more canon potential to complete the cousin group:

Thalia and Percy have a great relationship. But Thalia and Nico hardly interact. Plus, Nico probably wouldn't be happy being around her much due to what happened with Bianca. Jason, on the other hand, had the potential to be a great bro for Percy AND he has a good relationship with Nico. PLUS, the three of them represent the unity of the camps.

Leadership:

I like those video edits that showcase the parallels of the boys' vulnerabilities. All the boys have earned huge leadership roles, which set them apart. Thalia is a lieutenant of the hunters...but let's be real. Jason defeated a titan. Thalia was a nepo baby and got power handed to her. There is no comparison.

Plot relevance:

One of the things I hate about Thalia is her total irrelevance after book 3. She had so much buildup, interesting backstory with Annie and Luke...then she becomes Artemis' lapdog and vanishes from the dealings of the plot. Her connection to Percy and Nico feels distant because of this. She's in a different world. The boys, on the other hand, have major roles in both series and are integral to the action. Honestly, Thalia could have stayed a tree, and nothing would have changed, really.

Standing up to their fathers:

Between the two of them, Jason is the true rebel to match Nico and Percy, especially Nico. Percy doesn't really stand up to Poseidon per se, but he has been shown to make his case to Poseidon, eg. petitioning to keep Bessie alive and convincing Poseidon to fight Typhoon. Jason spent his entire life loyal to the gods...yet when he meets Zeus for the first time, he stands up for Apollo to his father with little hesitation. Not even Percy did that, and he actually knows Apollo! What has airhead Apollo done for Jason? But, like Nico, he was willing to call out his father when he saw an injustice.

Zeus has helped Thalia more than Jupiter ever helped Jason. Zeus "saved" her life and provided a guide for her. Jupiter offered up Jason as a token to Juno/Hera. Thalia spent her life cursing the gods with Luke, but she was obviously a sellout because every time she met Zeus, she was like, "Thank you, Daddy 🥰". Not faulting her for wanting parental approval, but the point still stands. Thalia is a faker and it's probably the best that she and Luke never met again. If Thalia was that important, she would have been by Percy's side in TLO demanding better for demigods. But Rick literally took her out of the climax with a dumb statue. Wasted potential.

Anyway, these are my reasons why Jason is better than Thalia and deserves his spot in my version of the little three.

#jason grace #thalia grace critical #nico di angelo #percy jackson #little three #big three kids #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo zeus #pjo fandom critical #not everything is sexism people #sometimes the female characters just suck #deal with it #the male big three kids are just cooler overall #most of the female big three kids are shoved into the hunters and cease to matter much #hazel lavesque #has a interesting backstory and character but i prefer nico's powers over hers

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granatu888 · 2 months ago

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《SG》TF: Until One

The Bonds of Rebellion and Destiny

A world turned upside down. In this universe, the status of Megatron and Orion couldn’t be more different.

* Megatron was adopted and raised by Megatronus Prime (in his avatar form), eventually becoming a respected professor and librarian at the grand library of Iacon.

* Orion, by contrast, was born into the lowest caste—a slave—known for being problematic due to his repeated attempts to escape from his abusive owners.

An Unlikely Encounter

One fateful day, Orion sought refuge in the Iacon library during a desperate escape attempt. That’s where Megatron found him—and instead of reporting him, he secretly tended to Orion’s wounds and allowed him to stay. Their bond began there.

Knowledge Beyond Class

Megatron was astonished to discover that Orion, despite being a slave, had immense potential. Through repeated secret visits, Orion began to read, discuss, and even debate academic topics with Megatron.

Megatron would often say: “You have great potential, Orion… You just need to learn to see the world with optimism.”

That sentence stayed with Orion— and it would later inspire him to adopt the name “Optimus”, as a tribute to Megatron’s words.

Becoming a Prime

Megatron, moved by Orion’s story and the injustices faced by the lower caste, began to research the truth of Cybertron’s caste system—and soon, he submitted his candidacy to become a Prime.

The High Council approved it— not out of idealism, but because they needed someone to fill the empty position quickly.

The Dark Truth of Being a Prime

But being a Prime in this universe was not an honor. The Matrix of Leadership was not a symbol of unity—it was a tool of control.

Primes were nothing more than puppets, vessels meant to be gradually overtaken by the will of Primus.

And in this universe… Primus is not benevolent.

Though still the creator of Cybertron and its people, Primus-SG seeks only one goal— to dominate the universe through conquest, using Cybertronians as weapons against other races. The Matrix is a conduit, used to rewrite the minds and wills of those who become Primes— turning them into loyal avatars of his agenda.

Colonial Worlds & the Primes (SG)

* Seibertron (The opulent capital) — Home of Prima, Vector Prime, and Alpha Trion

* Caminus (Weapons & Science) — Home of Solus Prime

* Gigalonia (Giant mechs) — Home of Nexus & Amalgamus

* Micron (Mini-Con colony) — Home of Micronus

* Eukaris (Beast modes) — Home of Onyx Prime

* Vigilem (Commerce & legal gambling) — Domain of Liege Maximo

* Velocitron (Entertainment & racing) — Ruled by Maccadam

* Paradron (Warrior world) — Formerly under Megatronus, now ruled by Megatron

#transformers #maccadam #tf until one #tf au #the storyline of until one #transformers sg

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talonabraxas · 7 months ago

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Shiva and Shakti Talon Abraxas Shiva and Shakti - The Divine Union of Consciousness and Energy

Shiva Shakti Story

The legend of the marriage of Shiva and Shakti is one the most important legends related to the festival of Mahashivaratri. The story tells us how Lord Shiva got married for the second time to Shakti, his divine consort. According to legend of Shiva and Shakti, the day Lord Shiva got married to Parvati is celebrated as Shivaratri – the Night of Lord Shiva.

The Legend goes that once Lord Shiva and his wife Sati or Shakti were returning from sage Agastya’s ashram after listening to Ram Katha or story of Ram. On their way through a forest, Shiva saw Lord Rama searching for his wife Sita who had been kidnapped by Ravana, the King of Lanka. Lord Shiva bowed his head in reverence to Lord Rama. Sati was surprised by Lord Shiva’s behavior and inquired why he was paying obeisance to a mere mortal. Shiva informed Sati that Rama was an incarnation of Lord Vishnu. Sati, however, was not satisfied with the reply and Lord asked her to go and verify the truth for herself.

Using her power to change forms, Sati took the form of Sita appeared before Rama. Lord Rama immediately recognized the true identity of the Goddess and asked, “Devi, why are you alone, where′s Shiva?” At this, Sati realized the truth about Lord Ram. But, Sita was like a mother to Lord Shiva and since Sati took the form of Sita her status had changed. From that time, Shiva detached himself from her as a wife. Sati was sad with the change of attitude of Lord Shiva but she stayed on at Mount Kailash, the abode of Lord Shiva.

Later, Sati’s father Daksha organised a yagna, but did not invite Sati or Shiva as he had an altercation with Shiva in the court of Brahma. But, Sati who wanted to attend the Yagna, went there even though Lord Shiva did not appreciate the idea. To her great anguish, Daksha ignored her presence and did not even offer Prasad for Shiva. Sati felt humiliated and was struck with profound grief. She jumped into the yagna fire and immolated herself.

Lord Shiva became extremely furious when he heard the news of Sati’s immolation. Carrying the body of Sati, Shiva began to perform Rudra Tandava or the dance of destruction and wiped out the kingdom of Daksha. Everybody was terrified as Shiva’s Tandava had the power to destroy the entire universe. In order to calm Lord Shiva, Vishnu severed Sati′s body into 12 pieces and threw them on earth. It is said that wherever the pieces of Shakti’s body fell, there emerged a Shakti Peetha, including the Kamaroopa Kamakhya in Assam and the Vindhyavasini in UP.

Lord Shiva who was now alone, undertook rigorous penance and retired to the Himalayas. Shakti took a re-birth as Parvati in the family of God Himalaya. She performed penance to break Shiva’s meditation and win his attention. It is said that Goddess Parvati found it hard to break Shiva’s meditation but through her devotion and the persuasion by sages and devas, Parvati, also known as Uma, was finally able to lure Shiva into marriage and away from asceticism. Their marriage was solemnized a day before Amavasya in the month of Phalgun. This day of union of God Shiva and Shakti is celebrated as Mahashivratri every year.

There is no Shiva without Shakti and yoga is a realization of the unity of all things. That is not to say that everything in tantrik texts is figurative; many describe practices which are said to bring about this realization.

Shiva Shakti Mantras Separator - Divider - Red

Shiva Shakti Panchakshari Mantra

“Om Hrim Namah Shivaya”

Important Shiva Shakti Mantra

(i) “Om Shiva Om Shakti” (ii) “Namah Shiva Namah Shakti” (iii) “Om Sarva Mangal Mangaley Shivay Sarvarth Sadhike

Sharanye Trambhake Gauri Narayani Namostutey”

Therefore, Shakti is the dynamic power of Siva through which he manifests the worlds and their myriad objects and beings. He brings forth the worlds and their beings through his will and his dynamic energy, Shakti.

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theloverofdragons · 5 months ago

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After the Core

The journey back from the Ynnungaap was spent in silence. VS Unity was battered but Eirn had assured everyone that it could still take them back to Pellow Village, and he and the other gnomes were keeping an eye on things below deck while the Hero, Izaac, Riadne, Yashta and Mazurek remained above, each trying to process what had just happened.

A flash of yellow light drew the Hero’s attention, and they turned to where Pandora had appeared back from the Plane of Elemental Spirits. “So?”

Pandora shook her head, her expression sombre. “He isn’t there.”

They hadn’t thought that they could hurt any more than they were, but her words still send a dull thud of pain through them. “I don't understand! I thought Soulweavers go to the Plane of Elemental Spirits after they die!”

“They do,” Pandora replied softly. “I don't know why he isn't there.” She lowered her head, reaching out to the Hero through their bond. “I'm sorry…”

Izaac looked up from where he was comforting Riadne, who was lying in his lap and covering her face as she wept quietly. “Someone has to notify his family.”

“I will do it.”

“We didn't take Vaal…” Mazurek mumbled.

The Hero’s expression tightened. “He ran away. I don't care about him.”

Footsteps sounded on the deck, and attention was drawn to Eirn having joined them. “Sorry to interrupt, but we are reaching the vortex. The Void Drive is powered up by the Ynnungaap Core energy, we might be able to pierce through, but it will be a rough ride.”

The Hero gave a bitter laugh. “It can't be much worse than what we had to endure getting here. Let's go, I'm done with this place…”

As Eirn had warned, the return back to Pellow Village was rough, VS Unity shuddering and making concerning splintering noises as the Void Drive pushed it through the vortex, the crew looking up from inside their cabins, holding tightly to each other, but eventually the ship made it through, and in comparison it was smooth sailing back to the dock at Pellow Village.

The gnomes and the Soulweavers were the first to disembark, making their way back to the Equilibrium Gate and Ravenloss, then Mazurek’s crew and finally the six of them, taking one last glance around the village sealed in the Void – the Hero in particular taking in the statue of Pandora at the entrance – before passing through the gate. As the last of them, Yashta, emerged on the other side there was a rumbling sound and the purple translucent barrier became solid, the glowing key runes growing dull once again, as they had been when the Hero had first journeyed to the underground town.

“The void,” Riadne breathed, looking around. “It's not here anymore.” Sure enough, where there was once a void path leading to the Equilibrium Gate, and floating houses, were now regular cobblestones like the rest of Ravenloss, and houses planted firmly on the ground.

The Hero nodded at the structure behind them, Pandora having appeared next to them. “And the Equilibrium Gate sealed itself. I don’t think we’ll be going back.”

“Probably for the best,” Eirn mused. “So, this… is where we part ways.”

The Hero closed their eyes and nodded again. “Thank you everyone… it has been quite a journey. And…and in the end, Tomix did stop Aspar…”

“Yes he did,” Izaac replied quietly. “Take care, Hero.”

Riadne offered a slightly watery smile. “Visit us someday.”

“I will.”

“I will stay here, in Ravenloss, should you need me, Hero,” Yashta intoned.

“I shall always be by your side,” Pandora added softly.

Mazurek gave a wistful sigh. “VS Unity was a beautiful lady, but I must get back to me own ship.”

“Sail safe,” the Hero looked down at their hands, which were shaking slightly. “This may be where we part ways, but we'll be seeing each other soon. At the…”

Riadne placed a hand on their shoulder. “We'll be there.”

****

The Hero couldn’t remember much of the next few days, passing as if they were a dream (or a nightmare), just snippets; leading the Soulweaving students and teachers back to Edelia, Danyel sitting stony-faced at his desk when they delivered the news, a lilac elemental spirit hovering beside him, Barvra falling back into a chair and covering her face with her hands, while Katia stood there in shock.

Somehow they were able to make it back to Falconreach, practically stumbling through the door of the inn, Serenity taking one look at them and gently guiding them up to their usual room and sitting them down on the bed, closing the door behind her with the promise of bringing them some fresh baked bread and soup.

The Hero went through the motions of removing their soulweaving uniform as if in a trance, that was only broken when they got to their belt, the belt that held Pandora’s cube.

The belt Tomix wove for them.

The sound that emerged from their throat as they sank to their knees was barely human, a mixture of sobbing and howling, the purest sound of grief that sent their dragon hurtling into their lap, snuggling into their chest, that summoned Pandora to the material world as she wrapped her arms around them in a hug they couldn’t feel, their knuckles turning white as they gripped the belt, as if this physical memory of Tomix could bring him back.

****

All too soon, it was time.

“Does anyone have something to add?” Danyel asked once he’d finished his speech, looking down at the gravestone nestled under the sprawling tree branches.

“I do,” Izaac spoke up as Riadne sniffled quietly beside him. “At least, I think I'll go first. Tomix was a friend. I can remember the day the two of us first met at Edelia. No one could have ever guessed at the time that we would ever get along together. We were complete opposites. I was the quiet, studious one. He was the angsty teen and a terrible prankster. We were really a terrible match for each other. We should have been sworn enemies really. Each of us had our own childhood issues to deal with... and yet we still became the very best of friends. I think that's the most important thing to say about him.”

He paused for a moment to compose himself, Riadne’s sniffles having turned to sobs. “In all times, before he was banished or on his journey after wherever he went, even if it might not have always been…requited, he was a good friend to everyone that was important to him. Loyal from the beginning... right up to the very end.”

“TOMIX!” Riadne wailed, falling to her knees and weeping uncontrollably, Izaac dropping down next to her and wrapping his arms around her.

Mazurek sighed, looking down at a small amulet she held in her hand. “Ye know, 'luv, yer not the first man to have taken up on an adventure like that. I've seen many. Comin' in with yer handsome, pretty looks and yer fighting skills. Promisin' a wild adventure like no other… Life be filled with plenty of short lived and passing acquaintances. Aye, a pirate's life it is. Saying that you be no more that though… I'd be wrong. Listen… I mayen't have pretty words or fond memories like yer friends 'ere. I were the ship's Captain, surely, but ye… ye were sailin' in yer own storm as well, weren't ye? One so terrible and so violent, ye knew that, no matter how ye'd sail, no matter how hard ye fought against it, eventually… ye'd sink and join Davey's Locker.”

She lowered her head and added quietly. “Still kept to the wheel though. Ye still sailed because ye knew that though ye might go down tryin', ye could still save the one thing that mattered. Ye could still save yer crew. Ye were a brave Captain to us all, Tomix, 'cause ye had the true heart of one.”

One by one, everyone slowly left, whispering their goodbyes, until there was just the Hero and Danyel left. For a while, neither said anything until Danyel, without turning around, spoke hollowly.

“You didn't keep your promise.”

The Hero said nothing as he left, leaving them alone with the grave of their best friend, taking several deep breaths before stepping up to it. “Hey… You know... I'm not good at goodbyes either. It's not that I wouldn't be able to find the words for it. I just…I just don't really like them.”

Pausing, they looked up at the sky, the setting sun painting the clouds orange and yellow. “It's strange... right now, memories are flashing by my eyes, flooding my mind. A flood so strong, it hurts. But I'm not about to die or anything. And it's not my life I'm seeing, it's… It's our adventures.”

A small smile formed as they looked back down again. “Like that first Mogloween... you appearing out of nowhere just as troubles were starting. Ten seconds later, you tell me to die. That was good one. And then we kicked Greed's butt for the first time. Hah! The look on his face when we had foiled his plans for Falconreach! But that wasn't even the beginning, wasn't it? I…I only actually got to know you when we met again in Ravenloss. Spelunking through Ravenloss was completely crazy and dangerous. Running through alleys and places filled with angry half spider, half human Chaosweavers out for our blood. But at the same time…so many interesting things happened. For all of Ravenloss' darkness, it did have plenty of curious mysteries and stories to uncover. Embodiments, traces of Vaal and Murk at many turns… We met and made friends. First Riadne and her, heh, feisty personality at the Weaver Emporium. And then you reunited and I met Izaac at Mystlyk Museum. And before I knew it... you and your SpiritLooms had become a familiar and friendly sight.”

A breeze ruffled the Hero’s hair poking out from their Soulweaving hood as they inhaled, almost lost in the memories. “Your hijinks with Riadne… Your determination to see your mission through…” The smile faded. “That wasn't our last adventure though. We had one more. One that was just as crazy, adventuring and dangerous, if not more so. And now…it's coming to a close. That's why…” A sob escaped past their lips, tears falling yet they pushed on, determined to get their message out, for Tomix, and for themself. “T-That's WHY... I-I want to s-SAY…THANK YOU!”

“It was fun… It was so very, very fun to go on adventures with you…”

****

Disclaimer: DragonFable is owned by Artix Entertainment. Dialogue taken from ‘Tomix's Saga Epilogue’.

Also on AO3 and FFN

#dragonfable #reverse soulallies au #the hero #pandora #izaac #captain mazurek #eirn #riadne #yashta #danyel #my writing

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thesirencult · 1 year ago

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Astrological Predictions I Wrote Down Last Year Which Are Still Relevant- and will continue to be!

Note: I'm not here to spread fear and anxiety. Bad aspects do not exist. Our lives and the way the Art Of Astrology is expressed in our reality is a mix of different colours and vibrations. These predictions have been made with my own personal way of interpretation so please don't ask how I came up with some things. Don't drive yourself crazy trying to see the "mechanics" and "practical details" behind the predictions, simply read them and see if intuitively you vibe with them. Keep in mind these are written in a "personal notes" style so it is a tiny bit chaotic!

A year ago I did not post any content about astrology and tarot online, at least at this scale. Posting these personal observations is not a way fro me to "toot-my-own-horn". I'm actually quite skeptical about Astrology's capacity to "predict" but right now, looking at those notes it is apparent that most of those things have already manifested or are beginning to take form in our physical reality.

Enjoy and let me know what your thoughts are about what's coming.

2023 MAJOR ASPECTS

Pluto In Aquarius (23/3/2023, 3 months and then again in 2024): 20 year cycle, society, tech, consciousness, innovation on STEROIDS, last time 795,819, 1781 -> discovery of uranus, islamic/arab domination in north africa, fall and rise of dynasties in europe (foundations of europe as we know it now, al-Khwarizmi founded the field of algebra

Saturn In Pisces (7/3/2023, 26 february, may 2 2026): structuring the "unstructureable"

Jupiter In Taurus (16/5/2023-25/5/2024): wisdom of nature, stay ready/still, green

17/7/2023 -> N.Node in Aries/S.Node in Libra: love-war, Ares-Aphrodite, war between the feminine and the masculine. Fall of red pill and radical feminism, individual vs parrtnership.

Where Jupiter goes, Saturn follows. Dune, The Hermit energy. In the past few years with Jupiter in Pisces and Aries disillusionment was IN! Fights through screens (Aries), were just another day. Saturn clears the way after Jupiter's orgy. Dreams NEED a practical use (note from now : we have this whole hustling culture thing of set goals and be practical, we are basically trying to give structure to our dreams and create a step by step path to our vision). Example: astrology, NFTs and crypto, drugs, manifestation, art -> how are they contributing to our society and the betterment of it? Dissolving-then Forming-> identifying, dreaming-act/plan -> success. Only through the loss of individual power we realize we are nothing without a link to the rest of "life". Submitting to something greater/ fear (misty) of something destroying us or confronting external life. Sacrifice/Servitude. Who are you when stripped away from the world? (prison): stripped off the matrix/network, inner contemplation, power to serve to experience unity, science+spirituality meeting. loneliness + isolation = going deeper within,monk mode. developing a conscious ego. Information utilized/weaponized to help/guide the masses. Increasing consciousness and broadening the mind. We are realizing we are experiencing the "shadow" not the "idea" (Plato/Jung/archetypes)/Antigone-> divine law / human law/ loss of faith and search dor a new framework of values. Discipline in meditation, yoga driven towards God. Fight between atheism+spiritualism/nihilism+purpose. Turning inside because you lost faith, there you will find God and meaning. The form has outlived its usefulness -> conflict with the status quo and law. No church in the wild/godless. Saturn's death by Jupiter (taurus = structure).

Transformation of rules, social norms, ideas of humanity and how we use science+technology to manifest those ideas. Social + technological REVOLUTION. Renaissance. Turning to humanitarian, liberal arts/spreading knowledge-teaching. Astronomical discoveries, vaccines/antibiotics(shortages?), innovations in trade, change in the way religions and churches are structured as well as other organizations. More open. Blockchain. "Anonymity" but transparency. 48 laws of power, the prince. philosophy-> utilitarian/kant/pure reason. "how to maximize happiness for the majority. streamlined techniques. Pluto in Aquarius will bring the desire to reform. After 2044 these changes will be established. Everything will be brought to the surface. going deep and facing demons. PROMETHEUS MYTH , FIRE -> DARK SIDE OF TECH (note: AI). decentralised internet, open sourcing, energy. YOU CAN'T REACH GOD THROUGH TECHNOLOGY/CAN YOU? Grid failures+extreme weather. Internet cables connecting countries -> separation from WEB -> Who are we? power over...= domination / power with...= networks Pluto -> Πλούτος, abundance but can turn to greed -> eruption -> realizations. Society = individuals -> change= self change!

Society is going to turn its hopes, wishes , knowledge, resources and tech powers towards abundance and sustainability. Physical environment = abundance. I'm seeing a rise in holistic+cyclical approaches, natural medicine and art expression close to natural processes. Expect movement from big cities to the countryside and creation of luxury reatreats/hotels close to nature-sustainable.

source:thesirencult

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sadsongsandstories · 1 year ago

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Snow is the original songbird

I have just started reading the book of BOSBAS after watching, and absolutely loving, the movie. The shift to snows perspective is fascinating, and makes one thing extremely clear: snow was always a songbird, long before he met Lucy grey Baird.

And I mean this metaphorically of course

Even though the title sets up a dichotomy, where we assume snow is the snake and lucy grey the bird, the book makes sure to subvert this idea whenever possible.

When we first meet snow, he is performing. He plays the role of the rich, secure noble, clinging to his supposed status as the last major resource he has. Among his classmates he recites his lines and puts on a face, complete with a cheap costume. His life has effectively become a performance, masquerading as the royalty he yearns to be.

As a character it's his greatest strength.

Then we meet Lucy grey, our supposed songbird, who immediately used a literal snake as her weopon against someone she hates. Her most powerful moment, of course, is one of song, spilling her voice and transfixing the world the country.

Throughout the first and second parts, they must both act, with snow playing the part of the mentor and noble, and Lucy Grey playing the fighter. Both in front of the cameras and his classmates, Snow continues to act, while Lucy Grey must become a snake of sorts to survive. It's the games, and one must strike or be struck. And so snow offers his venom, with the literal poison and drone strikes.

Their victory is through the deception of a snake, and the literal snakes in the arena, and the performance of a songbird.

It is in the third part, however, where the two characters seperate into their true forms

Because the truth is, while they each use the skills of songbirds and snakes, at their core it is in their motivations that these characters seperate.

Lucy grey Baird is a true songbird, which becomes clear in the third part, where she returns home to perform for district 12, happily and freely and without wanting anything more than to share her voice. In the capital, she performs for the cameras and the crowd, but only as a means of survival. It is back home where she is free, and free to shed her scales and return to her songbird nature.

She is content

Snow, however, is driven by the vengefulness and insatiable desire of a snake. He tries, and gets tantalisingly close, to running away and having a free happy songful life with Lucy grey, but is repeatedly held back by his need to strike. It's the natural response of a snake, of course: to strike when one feels threatened.

So he strikes at his friend, by selling him out to the capital (using songbirds mind you), he strikes at highbottom (using literal poison), and he almost strikes at Lucy grey, but not before she can strike him first (using a literal snake once again).

And then taunting him with songbirds

Because the tragedy of the ending is that they were so close, they could have run away together and been happy. But in truth, it was never an option. She was a songbird and he was a snake. It was never meant to be. To be together would violate each of their natures. They might have been able to work together throughout, growing to care and love for one another, sharing their skills and doing what it takes to survive, but when the dust settles and they are each free, there is no denying the impossibility of their unity.

Which is why, and if you've made it this far, thank you for staying with me, I promise I'm making a point here, snow is wrong about his final conclusion on the games as a reflection of reality. It might appear like we are all songbirds and snakes both, with the desire to manipulate, perform, decieve and betray, but that is not truth.

Lucy grey proves that.

While snow might not realise it, there are people with pure songbird natures: giving and kind and gentle, loving life more than power. These are people who solve porblems not by striking back, but by sharing their voice, opening their lips to utter compassion, shielding others beneath their wings.

That's why his empire falls: because he assumes that everyone is like him.

Snakes only see snakes in others

In hunger games, the participants all hold hands, Katniss and Peeta violate the games by sticking together, caring for one another in a system designed for killers

In catching fire, the parading of the victors, meant to inspire jealousy and hate, instead rallies support especially in 11

And in Mockingjay, it is katniss' voice that rallies the people and inspires them to rise against the capital, singing aloud with both her own voice,

And the song of one Lucy Grey Baird, transcending time to offer her own spirit to the cause

Katniss is a songbird, as is Peeta, and Prim and Finnick and so many others beside them

Gale is a snake, coin is a snake, snow is a snake

In a way, all of hunger games is a ballad of songbirds and snakes, not of THE songbird and THE snake, because in truth it's far more complicated than that. Inside each of us is a songbird and a snake, and the one which we choose to embrace will shape the future we are destined to share.

It's fear or love all over again

Which do you prefer?

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #katniss everdeen #cages or wings #the hunger games

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soror--mystica · 7 months ago

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Type 9's Archetypal Link with Hestia, Greek Goddess of the Hearth

1. The Enneagram Symbol as a Fire Burning on a Round Hearth

The Enneagram symbol comprises a circle and, within it, two overlapping figures: a triangle and a hexad. When one takes a moment to observe the latter, one may, through projective equivalence, discern the shape of a burning fire, with the points evoking the sharp tips of flames. The circle, in turn, may be regarded as a round hearth.

In one piece, the Enneagram symbol is reminiscent of a fire burning on a round hearth, with the most central point represented by Type 9 (its centrality being the reason for its identification with the whole circle, given that, geometrically speaking, it is at the midpoint where all the radii meet, which 9 approximates best of all). Its unconscious function is to tie together all that surrounds, i.e., to serve as an all-embracing holding environment, much like that of Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth.

2. The Anonymous Center

Hestia's self-effacement/-abnegation is evidenced by her absence on Mt. Olympus, despite being a major Olympian, and her acceptance of being replaced by Dionysus without grievance. This aligns with her role as the keeper of the hearth (analogous to the 9's inner sanctum, for she is contained within it), of which it is said, "stays in the background maintaining anonymity and is often taken for granted."

Similarly, a woman with a strong Hestia component "lacks assertiveness and doesn't speak up if she feels discounted or devalued."

Much like Type 9's "nobody special" status, Hestia is the least known of the Olympians, as she "took no part in the (conflict-ridden) love affairs and wars that so occupied Greek mythology." Just as 9 has the least coagulated or differentiated ego-self, so it is that Hestia was not represented in human form but was instead "a spiritually felt presence in the living flame at the center (i.e., experienced via a sense impression of her elemental power)," much like 9 in the analogy above.

Therefore, "to live as Hestia means to be self-effacing, anonymous, a non-entity who nonetheless has a central position."

Hestia was not known through myths (head center stuff) or representations (heart/image center stuff), but rather through rituals (instinctive gut center stuff) that link the old with the new and grant "continuity, relatedness, shared consciousness, and common identity."

3. Universalizing Tendency

As one of the three virgin (meaning "one-in-herself") goddesses, which I equate with the three autonomy/gut types, Aphrodite is unable to "subdue, persuade, seduce, or even 'awaken a pleasant yearning in'" Hestia, analogous to 9's impassivity at worst and self-possession at best.

One may safely suggest that Type 9's topmost placement in the Enneagram symbol reflects its insistence on staying "above" the necessarily dismembering life process (symbolized by the hexad), hence its unborn state, as it is outside time and therefore of the most basic or primal nature (supporting Riso & Hudson's view of 9 being the most withdrawn type).

By way of illustration, when juxtaposed with the circular symbol of the Ouroboros, 9 in the Enneagram symbol would be seen positioned exactly at the point where the serpent devours its own tail, signifying self-sufficiency (autonomy), eternity (coming full circle), and the unity of opposites (alpha and omega).

In keeping with Type 9's primacy, Hestia's fire may be equated with the pre-stolen primordial fire, symbolic of the origin of the universe and the eternal cycle of life and death. Furthermore, Hestia is the oldest goddess, the first to be swallowed but also the last to be regurgitated by her father Cronos (she is thus, like 9, the beginning and the end). She "spent the longest time captive in the dark bowels of her father (suggesting a prolonged gestational period, withdrawn into the gut, in which one adapts or gets used to existing as potentiality, as in 9)," and was "the only one to be there alone (9 as the 'unsplit monad' denoting a unified, indivisible whole)."

Hestia's sacred fire on the hearth can also be seen as the 9's withdrawn anger, given that the hearth stood inside the temple or home. This anger, if owned, fuels the vitality of the 9's instinctual nature, but if repressed, leads to slowed aliveness.

4. Non-Attachment to Particulars; Attachment to Universals

Hestia owes her other appellation, "Wise Woman," to the emotional detachment she cultivates in the service of inner harmony and centeredness. A woman with a constellated Hestia archetype is said not to be impacted by events as others are, for she is "not attached to people, outcomes, possessions, prestige, or power ... Her ego isn't on the line. Because her identity isn't important, it is not tied to external circumstances. Thus, she does not become elated or devastated by whatever happens (reflecting the long-suffering aspect of 9)."

If this woman is a mother, "her love may be a shade too impersonal and undemonstrative. But usually, she attends to children with loving and accepting attention (as in 9's tendency to subliminally or indirectly insinuate itself, so as to resonate on the level of pre-verbal being)."

Being quiet and unobtrusive, she cultivates solitude in the midst of others and thus stands for "the still point in the moving world," generating an atmosphere of peaceful order.

However, this type of woman lacks ambition and drive (the slothful evasion of fully stepping into reality) and does not have much to offer in competitive situations. Her point of view is holistic, which may prevent her from taking sides in a controversy, to the exasperation of others.

5. The People-Pleasing of 9 Versus 2

A common mistaken attribution to 9 is that they are active people-pleasers, itching to do someone a good turn, which is more in line with 2-ish behavior, as typified by Persephone "taking her cues from others and being eager to please." Many forget that 9 is a withdrawn, autonomy type, aiming to sustain an ideal of serene self-containment. Accordingly, Hestia "may do what others tell her and appear to be just as compliant (going along to get along), but when left on her own, she contentedly plays without direction (withdrawn fantasy)."

6. Holding onto One's Center

Two forces tried to take from Hestia her virginity (one-in-herselfness), and thus pull her away from her center: the sun god Apollo (head center) and the water god Poseidon (heart center). This detail in the Hestian myth perfectly illustrates how 9 loses ground (dissociates) by projecting its center of gravity onto objects other than itself, hence Riso & Hudson's statement that "the only type the 9 is not like is the 9 itself." No wonder 9 is the type most liable to mistyping as a head or heart type.

This manifests not only externally (via absorbing the surrounding energetic field) but also internally by outsourcing its center of gravity to its two other centers of intelligence (head and heart centers) at the expense of its own gut center. This self-forgetting is perpetuated by the 9's inertia, whereby it can fail to see the forest for the trees, i.e., forget its goal of returning to its roots or home base after necessarily setting out on peregrinations toward other lands. In other words, once the impulse to get out of itself is activated, it will stubbornly remain in this state, losing sight of its ultimate goal.

If a Hestia woman gives in to Apollo, "she will subject her inner, intuitively felt experience (gut center knowingness) to the scrutiny of scientific inquiry (head center intellectualism). What she feels but cannot express in words (pre-verbal instinctiveness of the gut) is thus invalidated; what she knows as an inner wise woman is discounted unless supported by hard evidence."

Alternatively, if a Hestia woman is carried away by Poseidon, she risks "being flooded by oceanic feelings (chaos of the heart center)," thus putting out the fire at the center of Hestia's hearth.

It is therefore imperative that 9 rise above psychic contamination by taking care to get in touch with but not get possessed by what is not indigenous to its nature, including the lesser acknowledged forces presiding within her. Only in this way can a 9 achieve true self-possession.

Reference: Goddesses in Everywoman by Jean Shinoda Bolen

#enneagram #enneagram 9 #enneagram type 9

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imai-zumi · 29 days ago

Text

Notes From a Reluctant Nationalist

Below is a small essay I wrote about nationalism, identity, and necessity. I hope you enjoy, try not to judge me too harshly.

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I will admit to not thinking much about it when, during my seminal visit to India 26 primarily Hindu tourists; lured by promises of the Switzerland of India without the need for a Visa, were killed by terrorists in Indian controlled Kashmir. Such an incident was plainly horrifying, but I did not feel like it represented any kind of acute threat to my safety during my visit. The following days preceded much as they did prior to the attack, it was talked about, and the professor supervising my work seemed worried I may face additional scrutiny as a foreigner, but my skin affords me much privilege here and no one was even the slight bit bothered by my presence. I expected concerned outreach from people back home, but because the word was it was only domestic tourists that were targeted, and most people had a good enough idea of where I was in India that there was no need to double check if I had had been shot down by deranged gunmen. Things went as they had been, and although I could sense an uptick in nationalistic sentiment from what I was seeing online and from my colleagues (working with Sanskritists in India is an effective way to become acquainted with the right wing) it was nothing overwhelming or uncomfortable.

The tone distinctly changed on the morning of May 7th, where I woke up to many concerned messages informing me, before the news could, that India had launched retaliatory attacks into Pakistani territory, saying that it was a targeted attack on terrorist infrastructure meant to weed out those that may commit more acts of terror in the future. Dubbed ‘Operation Sindoor,’ complete with a highly stylized logo depicting spilled red powder representing the widows of men killed in the attack, the widows of all proud Indians. Even before Pakistan launched their retaliatory attacks into Indian territory, this gave me a deep sense of dread. Here is when the nationalism reached a fever pitch, and how couldn’t it? India was avenging the widows Pakistan had left them, a moral crusade if there ever was one! But I, as a non-Indian, only felt a cold apprehension. The next four days were restless ones. I would stay up until early hours refreshing reddit pages and Western news live blogs, hoping that the next update would say that the conflict had fizzled back into the kind of border skirmishes normal for the two nations. On social media I saw even Congress supporters calling for at least a reclamation on Pakistani controlled Kashmir and at most going right to the nuclear option that both nations hold over the other. This horrified me, these were the same people less than one hundred years ago, the level of vitriol and racism from both sides only served to make me sad and more anxious.

On the third day of the conflict, I went on a trip to the Statue of Unity, quite the marvel. I was accompanied by my supervisor and a colleague both of whom, being Gujarati and Sanskritists lean to the right politically. And so, I gritted my teeth through a day of passive comments against Pakistanis and Muslims, was I wrong to still be having fun? People were dying to senseless conflict, and I was spending my time with nationalists visiting a testament to the Indian state. Friends from Canada began to voice their own opinions on the conflict, all of whom saw the India as sole aggressor. Was I wrong to even be here? Part of the grant that made this possible at all came directly from the Modi government, was I just another propaganda piece, was I betraying my leftist values? I like to think I did not. At heart I am a pacifist (however much this might incise other leftists), and death is a tragedy, and it seemed and still seems to me like India overreacted to a threat at their borders. Yet, I do not live in this context. What I perceive as a threat is a very real one to those who live here, and their cause is just. And was I not being just as vitriolic towards a threat on my own borders only months ago?

Some weeks after the Pahalgam attack, Canada held an election. It was the culmination of one of the biggest political turnarounds in the countries history that began as soon as Donald Trump was inaugurated president in late January. I had voted by mail prior to leaving for India and for the first time in my life put a Liberal on the ballot, joining many other NDP supporters in doing so to stop the election of a Conservative. In the weeks leading to this decision Donald Trump had repeatedly undermined Canada's sovereignty, threatening to make us a cherished 51st state, to bring back the glory of the erstwhile American empire. The very thought of this sickened me, especially as a transgender person who would lose more than most in being subsumed by a growing fascist threat. Beyond that, though, there was another emotion. With this threat came a groundswell of national unity from coast to coast, even Quebec joined in on the fun! Boycotting American goods, refusing to travel, people writing war anthems, the maple leaf was reclaimed from the convoy, and the Trump-friendly conservatives plummeted in the polls. While we cannot discount the resignation of Justin Trudeau and election of Mark Carney of Liberal leader in causing part of this swing, it would likewise be foolish to pretend that this nationalist uptick was not due in part to the ‘Trump effect’ as it were.

And I joined in on these efforts. The idea of being forced to be an American kept me awake with anxiety, so I did what small part I could. I read the labels on grocery items to avoid American product, I proudly placed a small Canadian flag painted with the colours of the transgender flag in my window, I talked with classmates about how we would all resist should an invasion from the South happen. At the time, I thought little of it regarding leftism. Of course, common left-wing sentiment espouses that nationalism is a poison that rots and leads to the idea of one’s nation as above all others, it spits in the face of a society with no borders and offers fascism an easy inroad. But wasn’t I on the side of good? This was left wing nationalism. Well, not left wing. This was liberal nationalism, in service of preventing what would be sure to be a devastating Conservative government that would avail itself of Americas every whim. But that is not right, is it? The nation is an antithesis to a good leftist society, is it not? I am not the person to decide if left wing nationalism is a valid ideology, such political science is outside the purview of someone who analyzes narrative. It seems wrong though, doesn’t it?

It was not until I was sitting in my flat in India, watching as two nuclear armed nations traded blows while I was perilously close, that these thoughts became known. Watching as those online ended every comment with “Jai Hind!” and were so proud of their two optically perfect female military officers. It felt so far away from any place I could ever be, surely, I would never be a warmonger like this, I would not be clapping and praising the troops! But is that that not what I did just a month ago? “Elbows up!” being quietly satisfied when the Liberals promised to increase our defence budget, how was I any better? If American terrorists came to Banff and killed thirty souls, would I not be furious, would I not demand justice?

I will not pretend that the situations between India and Pakistan and Canada and the United States are more similar than they are. America and Canada have not come to blows since 1812, Canada has no nuclear weapons, and there is no religious tension that fuels the hostility between the South Asian neighbours. But still. Both sets of countries are comprised of people that are much the same but with so much pride for what they consider their own. At what point do we deny that pride?

I spent a Sunday post ceasefire in a park listing to live music. Soon enough a kind man who plays the saxophone at the event came and introduced himself to me, then me to the organizers of the event. I was given front row seats and even brought up on stage at the conclusion of the evening, much to my embarrassment. Through sitting and talking, I came to know that the kindly saxophone man was Muslim, confirmed when his wife and sons came to join him, dressed for prayer. He stood and delivered a jazzy rendition of the Indian national anthem and stood proudly when the organizers shouted: “Jai Hind!” echoed by the crowd, then: “Bharat Mata Ki Jai!” likewise echoed. It felt aggressive, uncomfortable, a representation of the kind of religious nationalism I know I should reject with all my being, yet the saxophone man smiled on, and I too clapped for the performance.

#text #mine #uni #this is a one day job so #but i needed to get it off my chest lmao

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