#cecilia greece

[fruitymocha]

Elysian

That dream where Albedo crafted you from the finest marble

Featuring: Albedo x gn!Reader (they/them and you/your used)

Warnings: Reader has existential crises at least once per POV switch, slight religious themes,

A/N: here’s you guys’ early Valentine’s gift from me to you. yes, I finally decided to do an explicitly romantic piece (that isn’t yandere). And yes, this is inspired by the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea (actually, it’s more of an au/retelling). It was too good of a concept to pass up on writing. Also you guys have no idea how long it took to find the perfect title (I went through a lot of different ones before settling on this one). By the way, this story kinda takes place in an au where everyone from Mondstadt is living in a sort of Ancient Greece type location instead of regular Mondstadt. I hope I’ve done this concept justice, and without further ado…

Let me make your dream come true…

The reds, pinks, golds, and oranges of the dawn filtered through the windows, coloring the blank canvases, parchments, and sketchbooks, as well as the stocks of clay, glass, metal, wood, and marble.

That’s when Albedo knew he had stayed up too late, pouring over his artistic endeavors. Well, it’s nothing new, of course. It is what he is known for, after all. Albedo, the recluse Renaissance man. He is the epitome of the genius stereotype. A brilliant mind who is awake far beyond reasonable hours, slaving away at the latest inspiration, theory, or idea. A brilliant mind that seemingly has that spark of madness. A brilliant mind who lives for his work. And the two closest colleagues he has, Sucrose and Timaeus, are unable to stop him, though they try with logical reasoning and kind words.

Sucrose walked into the ivory and caramel-colored studio early in the morning to greet Albedo, who had decided to work with her in her endeavors to study biology. Now imagine her surprise to see her mentor with bruise-like dark circles under his eyes, carefully scanning the details of a work in progress sketch. Perhaps a new painting idea, or perhaps he finally decided on a new project for his chalk pastels. It didn’t matter, really. Clearly, Albedo was in desperate need of rest. She cleared her throat, which did nothing to catch the attention of the pale-haired man. Sucrose figured it must have been because her voice was too quiet, or because Albedo was in his own little world, or a combination of the two. With this in mind, the mint haired girl stepped closer to get his attention and let him know she had arrived. In this process, she was able to get a glimpse of a still-life sketch from over his shoulder. A single cecilia in a vase. She barely got to appreciate the sketch before the sketchbook was abruptly pulled away from her gaze and slammed shut by none other than Albedo himself.

“It was uninspired anyway,” he muttered to himself. “I need a grander idea,”

“Um, Mr Albedo-?”

“I knew you were there, Sucrose, I just needed to get everything on paper before I forgot the concept while focusing on our biology studies,” he explained.

“Uh- shouldn’t you get some rest?”

“I’ll be just fine, Sucrose,” he assured her, but Sucrose wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Are you sure, Mr Albedo? You have some pretty dark circles under your eyes-”

“A sip or two of wine should suffice, Sucrose,” Albedo interrupted her concerns, and Sucrose could do nothing but relent. After all, Albedo is the one supervising her, not the other way around.

~*~

After going through a couple scientific experiments with Sucrose and Timaeus assisting him, Albedo made his way back to his isolated studio up in the mountains. Luckily, summer was approaching, meaning the mountain winds didn’t have that wintry bite to them. Instead, they were cool and relaxing as the zephyrs flowed through his fluffy hair.

Many criticized Albedo for his lifestyle, and that notion never truly left his mind, unless he was drowning his mind in academia or the arts to express his passions for such subjects. They called him a loner. Now that wasn’t necessarily true. He enjoyed the company of Sucrose and her biology endeavors. He appreciated Timaeus and his dedication to alchemy. He admired the Traveling Twins, who knew their fair share of the world and the different cultures they’ve been exposed to. And he liked to be in their company, too. Though neither Albedo nor the twins were astronomers in any sense, they did like to occasionally talk about or study the stars together.

But the nearby villagers don’t know that about Albedo because they don’t care to. They just like to point fingers and call him the loner mad genius simply because silence and alone time bring him peace and happiness. He’s perfectly content skipping out on large feasts and village-wide worship of the Gods, but evidently that’s frowned upon. Some have even started the rumor that he’s sworn himself to never fall in love. That never actually happened, he simply isn’t interested in any of the local villagers. No, he can’t imagine ever thinking of any local villager in a romantic light. In the past, he still held hope that he’d meet someone different. Someone with whom he could share mutual appreciation and respect.

Someone who wouldn’t judge him for his behavior. Someone who would instead try to be empathetic and understand things from his perspective.

But no, no one in this tiny communal village has that sort of grace or kindness to them. He’s given up on that fantasy. Perhaps he should seriously consider adopting a nomadic lifestyle for a bit and explore the world with Aether and Lumine. Maybe only then would he find someone to suit his tastes, wants, and needs.

Before he knew it, Albedo had arrived at the door of his secluded studio, roof supported by towering columns. Caryatid columns, the columns made to look like women supporting the roofs of buildings with just their heads.

It was then that Albedo had been struck with inspiration.

He rushed into the studio, pulling out his sketchbook and using his stylus to sketch a figure. A figure that did not yet have a definite appearance, simply a vaguely human body in a vaguely anatomically accurate pose. Leaning forward, with robes and a vague sketch of hair billowing around the body as if the wind were caressing the figure. A hand outstretched in an almost theatrical manner. The figure was just like the frescoes of nymphs and angels on the ceilings of some temples of worship.

And then drowsiness hit Albedo like a spell. He knew he wouldn’t get anything substantial down in this state, so he decided to leave the details for tomorrow. Besides, he had big plans for this concept. He knew he’d need to be absolutely focused on each and every detail. But first, he’d need materials. Yes, he’d need a supplier to get him an appropriately sized block of the finest marble…

~*~

For next couple days, Albedo was hard at work, trying to vividly imagine the perfect being to encapsulate in marble. What body type should they have? What kind of hair type, and how long? What would the shape of their eyes be? What about face shape? Nose? Lips? He tried to mix and match many different combinations of features, but it always seemed like something was off. Missing. But what?

Just then, a knock was heard at the door.

“Come in,” Albedo called out to the visitor as he took one last look at the sixth facial rough draft. The door opened to reveal Aether and Lumine. “Ah, it’s you two. Welcome to the studio. What brings you here?”

“Sucrose told us you were busy at work with a ‘grand project’. May we inquire as to what that project is?” Lumine asked.

Albedo thought for a moment. This project, as grand as he believes it to be, is a project he holds dear to his heart. To reveal everything would be to lay his heart out for all to see. He would be completely vulnerable. But he still trusted the twins with his feelings, so he gave them just enough information.

“I was inspired by the Caryatids outside the studio. I was…overcome with a desire to sculpt a person,” he explained carefully.

“So are you going to find a model?” Aether asked.

“No,” Albedo said immediately, perhaps slightly harsh in tone. He cleared his throat, and attempted to prevent a misunderstanding from arising due to his carelessness. “I’d rather not base the image on someone else. This is a being of my own creation. A muse that has yet to exist,”

“Do you know what the statue’s gonna look like yet, Albedo?” Aether asked, as Lumine eyed the sketchbook left open on the page of drafts.

“I’m guessing it’s a work in progress,” Lumine said, still eyeing the drafts. Albedo grabbed the sketchbook, promptly closing it.

“I’m still working out the details, but I think I have a general idea…” Albedo looked away briefly, almost in a timid manner.

“So, would this…muse to-be…be your ideal person?” Lumine inquired.

“Ideal…person?”

“Like, romantically? Would they be your dream lover?” Lumine pressed on.

“That’s- that is not the intention I had for this project. I simply felt like creating a human sculpture,” Albedo was nothing short of bewildered by Lumine’s suggestion.

“Lumine! You can’t just make assumptions like that! Sorry, Albedo,” Aether apologized awkwardly. Albedo simply sighed.

“It’s quite alright. I’m used to…strange assumptions… at this point,”

Of course that didn’t make it any less jarring for him to think about this odd suggestion. However, Albedo wasn’t about to let Aether or Lumine carry the burden of guilt for stirring emotions he’s certain they didn’t mean to provoke. And so, he bid the twins farewell at sunset so they’d have enough time to get to the village before nightfall. Meanwhile, on the seventh draft, Albedo took features he’d liked from the previous six, as they’d all had similar faces, but slightly different auras to them.

As night fell, Albedo looked at the finished seventh draft. Something still felt missing, though the model was perfect. But what was missing? Albedo decided to take a break and look out the window to calm his mind. The stars were twinkling, painting the indigo sky with light.

Huh. Light.

Albedo turned back to the seventh draft. That��s it. Of course! Each draft had an aura, but it was missing a light. And so, Albedo focused on adding that light to those eyes.

And there was his muse. His greatest project. Perhaps even his magnum opus. Only time will tell, but one look at the seventh draft, and he knew it was the final draft. His muse was finally complete. Now all that was left was for the marble shipment to arrive.

~*~

The marble had arrived. Now of course Albedo never neglected his alchemical studies nor Sucrose and Timaeus’ occasional request for help or clarification. However, just thinking about getting to shape the fine marble sitting in his studio was enough to make him feel giddy. Everything was there, he just needed to put in the work.

So when he got back to his studio at the end of the day, and saw the giant block of marble sitting under his skylight, he was itching to get on the oddly shaped (but perfectly stable and practical) wooden platform and grab hold of his mallet and chisel.

And that’s exactly what he did.

For the next few weeks, he slaved away at the slab of marble, getting every detail down. Every edge, every curve, every crease and every mark. And of course, he never forgot to give his muse that light in their eyes. And finally, his muse was finished.

At the foot of the statue, Albedo gazed at those light-filled eyes. And right then and there, he felt a strange fondness. Like he wanted to cherish it for himself. The magnum opus no one would be able to freely gaze at. No one but Albedo himself, the creator. But he realized he forgot one thing: a name.

He tried many different ones with many different origins, meanings, and sounds. But eventually he settled on one.

“Hello, Y/N. My name is Albedo, and I am your creator,”

~*~

You were nothing but a marble statue. A hand reaching out for nothing, yet outstretched so delicately. You could not express your emotions on your face, nor speak, nor move. And yet, you knew that you were conscious. Sentient. You could feel and think just as your Creator could. Or, at least it seemed to work similarly for you based on what your Creator vocalized to you.

Mostly, he wallowed in loneliness and misunderstanding, but he always told you that he felt at ease with you. Sometimes, though, he’d get visitors.

A short, mint haired girl named Sucrose, who evidently studies biology and alchemy under your Creator’s supervision. She was soft-spoken and kind. She always referred to your Creator as “Mr Albedo”. As for how she treated you, she was in awe. She quite liked your robes and your expression, and sometimes she would talk to you, as well. You liked her presence, and perhaps if you could move or speak, you would’ve liked to be her friend. Friend is the right word, yes? At least, Creator calls her “friend” and you think you’d like to spend time with Sucrose the same way he does.

A young man with brown hair named Timaeus, who also studies alchemy, but evidently does most of his work in the village. Apparently, the village is filled with people, but your Creator has said many times before that the people there make assumptions about him. You’d like to go to the village anyway, though, if only to see Timaeus’ work (and maybe make those villagers understand that they were wrong about Creator).

Blonde haired twins. The boy, Aether, had his hair in a braid, and primarily wore gold and dark brown. He was kind, and always willing to help. He simply referred to your Creator as Albedo. Aether would sometimes put things in your outstretched marble hand, such as flowers. You really appreciated that. In fact, he, Sucrose, or your Creator himself would take the time to explain what it was you were holding. You wished you could go outside so that you could see the flowers growing in their natural habitats. Maybe you could even go with Aether, or Sucrose, or-… well, as much as you’d like the idea, you doubted Creator would humor you just to take you to see flowers. But it would be the perfect opportunity to let Creator take a break, Y/N! Your inner self told you. No, you knew your best bet was convincing Aether or Sucrose. Lumine, the pale haired one cut in a bob, wearing white and pale blue, would tell you stories. Stories of foreign lands, epic battles for survival, and sometimes more mundane events such as strange, funny, or recent things they witnessed or heard from others. You’d never seen the faces of the people Lumine talked about, like Jean, Klee, Diluc, or Venti. But, due to all the stories you’d heard about them, you already felt connected to them in some way, like distant friends.

Even so, you still longed for a way to leave the studio in the mountains, and see all these people for yourself. See the world for yourself. Oh, how you longed for someone to grant you true life. Perhaps Creator, who in theory could figure out a way to create life someday. Or Sucrose, who specializes in studying life and living organisms. Or even the patron god of this nation that everyone talks about. What was his name? Ah yes, you remembered now: Barbatos. Perhaps he could extend his divine touch and bless you from the heavens, or wherever it is that he resides.

But for now, you’d simply have to remain content with what you had.

~*~

Albedo, in the end, allowed his closest friends to see his masterpiece. But as the days went by, he felt more and more of an attachment to the marble statue in the center of the studio. As the days went by, your presence only became more and more lovely. Why or how, Albedo couldn’t put his finger on, but he knew he was falling hard and deep. For you. You, who embodied everything divine and perfect and Elysian. You, an entity Albedo couldn’t fully break away from.

And so, he started to come up to you in your delicately crafted glory. He stood upon your platform, and gently rested his face on your outstretched hand. “Oh, Y/N, how I wish you were truly alive…” he murmured, staring at your unmoving eyes. “Perhaps then, you and I could form a true bond. Not one of Creator and the Created, but simply two souls that belong side by side,”

Obviously, you did not move, nor make noise. You were a statue, after all. Nothing more. Were the villagers right? Was Albedo truly so isolated he grew an attachment to a human-shaped object by accident? No, it couldn’t be, for he already had close friends he saw fairly often. And yet there was something about you that drew him in, statue or not.

He recalled Lumine saying something about inventing an ideal partner. At the time, it sounded absurd, and absolutely was not his intention. But now, Albedo wasn’t so sure of himself. Maybe it wasn’t the intention, but did Albedo end up creating a dream person by accident? Is that what you are to him? He didn’t exactly know, but he knew one thing: he did care for you immensely. You were precious to him, that was undeniable, and he couldn’t imagine that ever changing.

Before he knew it, it was nighttime once again. “Y/N, I’d better get some rest. It is already late. Good night,” he said, gently running his thumb across your outstretched palm before stepping off the platform you stood on, and making his way to the corner of the studio where he often slept, not too far from the skylight, which you now stood under.

~*~

Days went on like this. You wondered what he meant when he spoke to you about bonds. You were his Creation, but it seemed he wanted something different from you. Would he prefer it if you considered him a friend, like Sucrose and the twins were to you and him? Or was there something else still? As much as you tried, you couldn’t easily make that transition in your mind. You managed to stop referring to him as “Creator” in your head, but you could not quite bring yourself to refer to him by his name. It felt too special for you to use, as you were but a being of marble. You were not human.

As the days passed, you would watch him work on his art projects. Sometimes, he would sketch things in the studio that he brought from the outside world, such as fruit or flowers. Sometimes he’d use chalk pastels or charcoal and draw something, or someone. There were even times when he’d do something more hands on, such as pottery, glass blowing, or wood carving. He did like to experiment in every sense of the word, it seemed. But he put the most effort into his paintings and his marble sculptures. And no matter what he worked on that day, he’d always show you what he accomplished with a shining light in his eyes. Genuine passion. He’d ramble to you about what inspired the art piece, explain his thought process, and share what the piece was supposed to represent. It seemed every piece had a story. A purpose. If you were a Creation in the same way that his paintings were, then what did you represent? What was your story? What was your purpose? He never did tell you, even if he did show you great care and kindness.

Every day was like this.

Until Sucrose and the twins came to inform the lone sculptor of the coming celebration. Down in the village, seven days would be given for the people to dedicate themselves to their patron god, Barbatos. Seven days to appreciate what he stood for: the winds and freedom. The temples would also be open to accept confessions and prayers from all who sought out guidance. At least, that’s what Sucrose told you.

Funny how no one knew of your sentience, yet they treated you as a living being and friend anyway. Was it your human design that prompted this? You found this to be likely. But you secretly hoped that someone had noticed the spark of life in your marble eyes, no matter how faint. If those around you truly understood you, you would be less lonely inside. Sure they talked to you, and acted like you could hear them (which you could, but they didn’t know that), but it was a one-way path. They couldn’t hear your thoughts. You couldn’t express your emotions to them. They had you, but you didn’t truly have them, did you?

In any case, Sucrose, Aether, and Lumine all suggested that your creator at least spend one day of the festival down in the village. He said that he’d consider it, but your weren’t entirely sure he meant it. After they left, the alchemist sighed and slumped into his painting chair.

“As if I want to go to the village… then again, if I don’t go I’ll get more criticism… hm…” he continued to mutter to himself about the good and bad sides of going to the village. You want him to go though. Just once. Even if you will be lonely up in the studio on your own. It’s okay, as long as he lives life. He sighed again.

“Just one day. I’ll go for just one day. And I’ll bring you something from the village. That way, you can also celebrate and show respect to Barbatos,” he said to you in that smooth, calming voice of his. You’ll miss him dearly, of course. But you’re also so happy that he decided to enjoy himself, at least for one day. And you’ll even get a small thing so you can celebrate too, even if you are stuck in your marble form.

But it seemed the festival wouldn’t be happening for a while. So you and he waited.

And as the time passed, you began to notice smaller details and habits. The more you stared into his eyes, the more you felt drawn by their bright hue. His pale hair looked quite nice from where you stood. Perhaps if you could move your fingers, you’d like to see for yourself just how his hair feels. You imagine it to be soft and pleasant to the touch. Your heart seemed to overflow with a certain feeling whenever he came up to you and gently held your outstretched hand, or looked deeply into your eyes.

But you knew it was not the same as your fondness for Sucrose, Aether, and Lumine. With them, you simply wanted to spend time, have a good laugh, and share conversations and memories. With your sculptor, you wanted… more. You didn’t know exactly what you wanted from him, but you knew you wanted to be closer to him than any other. You cared for him very much, and wished for nothing but time and closeness. Together. He always tells you that you were a gift from above: a glimpse of divinity. However, you couldn’t help but think of him in a similar way. While appearance is trivial compared to character, you could not deny the way his appearance seemed to exude grace, wisdom, and compassion. There was a dreamlike gentleness to his very soul that bled out into his outward appearance, and you would be a fool to lie and tell yourself it was an illusion. The only problem was that you didn’t have a word for this sentiment. You knew it was more than friendship, but what could be more than friendship?

Is this the type of bond he wanted? Or were you being too much? How could you ever know?

Unless you somehow prayed to Barbatos for guidance. After all, you already knew how the ritual worked after watching your dear sculptor openly pray in your line of sight multiple times. Perhaps if you managed to do so during the festival, you’d be more likely to receive an answer?

All you have to do is wait.

~*~

Albedo felt like he was losing his mind. Only slightly, but the feeling was there nonetheless. He felt an unusual attachment to Y/N, his beloved muse. They were nothing but a statue, and yet it was as if they had a soul all their own. And not just a “soul” of art, meant to convey the story or purpose of an art piece. No. Albedo felt a certain aura coming from Y/N. Almost as if they were conscious. Sentient. Alive.

Regardless, Albedo found himself becoming more wistful and forlorn at the fact that you were not technically a person. Simply a creation he thought up one day and gave a marble vessel to. He found himself wishing you did have a human body. He could feel it in his bones that if Y/N were to become a being of flesh and blood, they would stick by him. But would they love you? His inner voice interjected. Would they know what love even is?

Albedo had no way of knowing the answer.

Unless he decided to seek guidance from Barbatos, that is. Perhaps on the day he decides to go to the village, he can stop by one of the shrines of depths and pray. What he would ask of the Wind God, Albedo didn’t know, exactly. But he knew he had to ask about Y/N.

~*~

And so, the first day of the Festival began after your patient waiting. The sculptor had left, not for the village, but to get fresh air and create art outside. He reasoned with you that doing outdoor activities amidst the mountain breezes would show sufficient appreciation for the Anemo God’s wind currents. Oh, how you wished you could feel such a thing against your skin. The most you could do was listen to its whispers from the inside.

But you had plans for this first day. You decided you would attempt to sleep. While you had no need for it, not being truly alive, you wanted to experience what he referred to as “dreams”. You decided to try and calm your mind… let it wander.

But you did not seek to dream for the sake of dreaming. No. You sought to use dreams to communicate with others. Perhaps through your dream, you could contact the great Wind God and ask to be granted life. And, at night, as an added bonus, you could try to communicate with your sculptor— no— Albedo, through these dreams. Your heart fills with joy at the thought of finally being able to express your thoughts and feelings, and truly form a bond with him. However, try as your instincts might, your current marble vessel cannot move to express the joy and energy that fills you to the brim. It feels as if a whirlwind were trapped, encased within a jar made of thick glass, difficult to break through. Oh how you could not wait to make this first attempt at contact.

When Albedo returned, you had noticed that his hair had become tousled playfully by the winds outside, and he was none the wiser as to the state of his pale locks. He once again decided to show you his latest creation, as he always did.

“Look at this latest painting, Y/N. It depicts the winds blowing against a field of wildflowers. Yes, this location is on the mountain. I decided to paint this in honor of the first day of the festival, since the wind’s effect on the wildflowers is technically the focus. I… I wish you could have seen it for yourself instead of a painted recreation. But, it can’t be helped. You are a being of Elysian marble, after all. I couldn’t possibly risk the elements damaging you,” he set the painting on his previously empty easel, and poured himself a glass of wine. As he took delicate sips of the red drink, he glanced at you every now and then.

“Tomorrow, I will go outside with Aether and Lumine. We will see if we can find something suitable for you to hold for the rest of the festival. But for now, I must get ready for bed. Good night, my dear Y/N,” he said. And when he rested his head upon the pillow of his bed, you too, prepared for a night of dreams.

~*~

Albedo was in a sea of grass and wildflowers, rippling like waves due to the cool winds. But there was something else. In the center was a circle of cobblestone, and a marble pedestal. Just in front was a plaque that had your name on it, a short description of how you came to be underneath, as well as your creator’s name.

But you were gone. The Elysian figure was missing from their rightful place. Albedo, unaware he was dreaming, quickly became concerned with your whereabouts.

Meanwhile, you walked barefoot among the wildflowers. Yes, walked! Your skin was no longer pale marble, but a lovely and healthy shade of (s/c). Your hair was well kept and (h/c), with the perfect (hair type) locks. You, unfortunately, could not see your eyes, as there was nothing around that could reflect your face back to you. But no matter. Perhaps in another dream a mirror or other reflective surface would be more readily available to you. You excitedly flexed your fingers and toes and arms and legs, and you stuck out your tongue, moved your eyebrows, smiled widely. You did all those things you saw everyone else do and more. You twirled in the dream-wind, spinning on the balls of your feet, and soon enough you jumped and swayed your arms, playing around with the freedom of movement you never had as a marble statue. And all the colors and sounds around you were so pleasant and vibrant and comforting to you. If this is what it meant to live, then surely the Wind God would not fault you for your desire of true life.

Everything was in so much detail you could almost feel the wind and smell the flowers. It was all perfect. Albedo truly did have a vivid and artistic vision, even asleep! But you soon noticed him concerned over your whereabouts, and you noticed your vacant pedestal. So you decided to approach him carefully.

And soon enough, the both of you locked eyes in this wondrous dreamscape Albedo created. Or did you create it? Was it a combination of both? Surely it must have been, or perhaps it didn’t matter. It could have been orchestrated by Barbatos himself for all you care. What mattered was that you both froze at the eye contact.

“…Y/N?” Albedo asked tentatively.

“Indeed. I’m here,” you smiled widely. You decided you liked your voice. Surely you must find a way to use it more when you are granted life.

There was only one problem.

You knew Albedo didn’t recognize you as sentient. He had not reached a point of lucidity in this dreamscape. Even if he did, he likely thought you were a figment of his subconscious reflecting his desires back to him. But he’d understand someday, you were sure of it.

“I want to ask you something. Before you wake,” you said tentatively.

“Of course, what is it?” you could tell Albedo was still somewhat bewildered by your human form in this dream world.

“Is there something beyond friendship?”

Albedo paused for just a second before responding.

“Yes, of course. Love,”

Love. Is this the answer you were looking for? Is this what you felt for him?

“What does it mean… to love?” You asked him. Albedo chuckled and smiled.

“Why don’t we sit down?” You caught a starry glint in his eyes. Not of mischief, but of genuine happiness. The same glint he always had when he showed you his art pieces. But somehow, it was stronger. Was it because he could finally talk to you? You sat down across from him, among the rippling wildflowers.

“Love can have different forms, actually. You can have philia: ‘love’ for your friends. Though that really is known as friendship,”

“Like with Sucrose and Aether and Lumine!” You said excitedly. “I’d like to be friends with them when I am granted life,”

“Right. Then there’s storge: love for your family,” you stopped smiling.

“But…as your Creation…I have no family,” Albedo gently placed a hand on top of yours.

“Family doesn’t have to mean blood related. Sure, most people mean that when they say family, but in your case, you can choose. Whoever you feel can support you and stick by you like a parent with their child, or a sibling with their fellow sibling, or whatever you want to imagine,”

“So, storge is love for someone who guides you through this world with love, right?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that, but once you’re granted life, we can talk more about the world,” Albedo promised.

“Is there an example in the real world you can give me?” You asked.

“I suppose I’m like an older brother to Klee, if we’re listing people you already know…” you smiled once again.

“Okay. Is there anything else?”

“Oh there’s more than just two. I’m just getting started,”

“What’s next?”

“There’s agape: the love people have for humanity itself,”

“You can love everyone?”

“Well, not every single individual, no. It really means something more along the lines of compassion or empathy. Where you’d be willing to help or care for others when they need it,”

“Ah, okay, so would that apply to the village?”

“Actually, yes. Mostly,”

“Except they don’t really like you,”

“Hold on, there, they don’t hate me. They just don’t know me that well,”

“…If you say so…” you said. And then you felt it. Your fingers and hands and wrists became stiff, as did your toes and feet and ankles. You looked down at your hands, terrified of the lack of movement. You were slowly turning back into marble and you could feel it. You began to panic. “Why is this happening? I’m dreaming- I can’t- I don’t-”

Albedo grabbed you and held you close, running his fingers through your hair. “Hey, you’re okay, I promise,” he said to you. It crawled up your arms and calves.

“No… I don’t want to be a statue… I want to live!”

“You will be granted life. I will make sure of it,” you felt in go to your upper arms and thighs. There was no way for you to move now.

“Every day… I just want to live like you. I want to leave the mountain and meet people… I want to actually talk to Sucrose… and Aether… and Lumine… and you. I want to meet everyone you all talk about… I want to know what it is you mean when you say you want to create a bond with me…”

It was up to your midsection, creeping too close to your heart for comfort.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N, you’re going to be okay, you’ll be alive soon,” he promised. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, and barely choked back the sobs wrecking your throat.

“I need you to listen to me… I can hear you… and I can see you in the real world. I may not be able to speak to you, or move, or show my emotion on my face… but I am sentient… I can think and feel just like you, out there… please believe me…” it soon reached your neck.

“…you’re not dying, Y/N… you’re okay, as long as you haven’t been chipped away, or destroyed…” you saw a glint of lucidity. He now knew this was a dream. But he never confirmed that he believed in your sentience.

“…don’t you believe me…? I may not have a vessel of flesh and blood… but in my mind I’m real… I’m a person… I’m alive in my mind… why won’t you believe me…?” It made its way to your jaw, and now you’d hair was solid and unmoving. Albedo said nothing. He simply put his chin on the top of your head and held you close.

And then your crying stopped. Albedo closed his eyes, and held you, but soon enough, your presence was gone altogether. Your platform and plaque were also gone. And the wildflowers suddenly didn’t look so vibrant or beautiful to Albedo anymore.

Your consciousness returned to the marble vessel in the studio. You were stuck once again. You wish you could cry or scream or throw a fit. But you couldn’t let it out. All you could do was try to bear the emotional pressure that filled you to the brim. You could hear Albedo’s soft breaths behind you. He must still be asleep.

He didn’t believe you, did he?

Was it really a good idea to follow him into his dreams?

Perhaps tomorrow night, you should attempt contact with the Wind God instead.

You could hear Albedo tossing and turning in his sleep behind you.

~*~

The second day arrived, and a new face burst through the studio. A little girl with blonde pigtails and a red dress. She was very excitable, and you almost worried she’d crash into one of your creator’s works.

“Klee, be careful!” Albedo warned her, though his voice still maintained that calm and collected demeanor.

So this is Klee.

“Okay!” She said, ceasing to run, though she still jumped in place a bit. Then she noticed you in the middle of the studio. Of course. “Who is this person?” She asked.

“Y/N, my latest marble sculpture. Aren’t they lovely?”

“They’re very nice looking! I wish they were a real person, then you wouldn’t be so lonely up here,” if you had the ability to laugh, you would have.

“I’m not lonely, Klee. Sucrose and the twins visit me often, and Timaeus stops by sometimes as well,”

Sucrose, who accompanied Klee during her trip to the studio, nodded her head in agreement.

“But when they’re not here and I’m not here you’re alone,” You found it particularly satisfying how Klee essentially voiced your unheard concerns in your stead. You tell him, Klee!

“…Y/N keeps me company…”

“Mr Albedo, Y/N is a statue,” Sucrose pointed out.

“Regardless,” Albedo interrupted, wanting to move on, “we should be getting ready to go down to the village,”

“Yay, festival day!” Klee got all energetic and excited again.

“After today there are still five more days, Klee. So don’t feel like you need to do everything all at once today,” Sucrose reminded her gently.

“Okay!” She said. Albedo then looked up at me as Klee was busy talking to Sucrose.

“Are you truly… sentient? Have I truly created a conscious being?” He asked softly, looking up at me. Of course I couldn’t respond. He took a deep breath and sighed.

“Okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell you a code word here in our waking world, and if you know the word when you gain true life, I will know for sure that you were right,”

You waited in anticipation for the word he would give you.

“…I’m sorry I can’t wholeheartedly believe in your sentience. I just have no way of proving it,”

So what’s the code word?

“Hmm… let’s see if I can come up with a good code word…” Albedo pondered for a moment before turning to you.

“I’ve got it,” he said with confidence. “Elysian,”

Elysian, huh? I can remember that…

“If you come to life, and you say this word, I will know you are sentient,” Albedo confirms.

“Albedo, are you coming? We’re going out to the town again,” Sucrose called.

He turned to look at Sucrose and Klee.

“Coming,”

He turned back to you.

“Goodbye, Y/N,”

And with that, you were all alone.

So you decided to try and sleep again.

~*~

When you opened your eyes, you were in an empty plane, with nothing but teal surrounding you, and a few cecilia flowers on the ground, creating a path to a short figure. They wore white garments that didn’t cover much of the body. Then again, you only wore a simple white robe. Who were you to judge? You loved the freeing feeling of being able to move once more, and ran over to the figure. They also had large white wings protruding from their back. Their hair was dark with longer teal ends, braided. Their eyes were a similar color.

“Who are you?” You asked them.

“I am Barbatos, God of Wind and Freedom,”

“I am Y/N… a marble creation made by Albedo,”

“Albedo… I am familiar with him and his… reserved tendencies,”

“Barbatos… may I ask a question?”

“Of course, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“What is stronger than friendship?”

“Why, love of course,”

“But what does it mean to love?”

“To love someone is to care for them. To see the inside and outside equally, and to accept their imperfections. But you want to know two types in particular: eros and pragma,”

“What do those mean?”

“Eros is the romantic or physical type of love. To find someone physically attractive, and initiate physical displays of affection. It’s sensual in nature. Pragma is a long term type of affection. The kind where you want to be with someone forever,”

“Is that how I feel about Albedo?”

“I don’t know, is it? Only you can know for sure, Y/N,”

You thought for a moment, almost scared of the epiphany you’d reached. You’d need time to digest it all. But you had one more thing to ask.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, I would like you to grant me freedom of my own,”

“What do you mean, Y/N? Are you unhappy with your life?”

“I want to be like the others. I want to live life as a human. I don’t want to be an unmoving statue for eternity,”

“Hmmm… I shall see what I can do, dear Y/N,”

“Thank you, Barbatos,”

He simply smiled as he played his lyre, and soon enough, you awoke.

~*~

As the days of the festival inched by, Albedo started to wonder what he should do. He had come to the strange conclusion that he had fallen in love with Y/N, his marble creation. But he had no idea how to cope with this latest discovery. So he visited the Temple of Barbatos in a time when the winds were strong and the sun was high.

“Lord Barbatos, hear my prayer,” he said to the towering winged statue as he placed his offering of cecilias. “May you grant me the freedom to find love similar in spirit to Y/N, my magnum opus,”

Barbatos, from the winds above, indeed heard Albedo’s prayer. Though he knew what Albedo truly wanted to say. He wanted Y/N themselves, not a mere facsimile. And with his prior knowledge of Y/N’s desire to have the same freedoms as a living human, he crafted his perfect plan for the two yearning souls.

~*~

When Albedo arrived back in his studio, he knelt at your feet.

“Y/N… you’ve stolen my heart. I cannot lie to myself, or to you. Oh how I wish you were made of warm flesh instead of cold marble,” he rose to step onto the platform, and cupped your cheek. “I fear I shall not be happy with anyone else except you,”

Barbatos, who watched from above, watched in anticipation, and enacted the plan.

Albedo kissed you on your marble lips, and the generous Barbatos granted you your ultimate freedom: humanity.

When Albedo separated from you, he leaped away in shock, and you stepped down from your platform. You looked at your hands, bending your fingers excitedly. You touched your hair, your robes, everything. You smiled.

“I’m alive!”

“Whats the code word?” Albedo asked, his voice nothing more than a wind’s whisper in awe.

You smiled wider.

“Elysian,”

Albedo leaped into your arms.

“So you were conscious the whole time,” he whispered.

“And I love you too,”

“Forever?” He asked.

“Forever,” you nodded.

~dream realized~

[royal-confessions]

“I consider Princess Cecilia of Greece and Denmark the most beautiful aunt of King Charles III of the United Kingdom.” - Submitted by cenacevedo15

[udretlnea]

Hi Edre! I have a rough character sheet for Cecilia, and wanted to see if it's accurate to how you envisioned her to be. Once I get the green flag I'll star doodling for her!

Her focal point are going to be in the color red.

Cecilia

Description of Look

Blond hair.

Medium length hair.

Red eyes with a kind of sharp shape to them.

She has two outfits.

The normal wear and her school uniform.

Slim figure? Maybe?

Tiddy.

She is well dressed no matter what.

Personality

Grumpy.

Not a morning person from what I read.

Serious in nature. 

I think her eyes and wear should reflect that.

Reserved/Closed off.

Doesn’t speak what’s on her mind, or she changes what she thinks before she speaks it out loud.

Kinda like a tsundere?

Cunning when it comes to business.

Determined.

Once she sets a set goal, there is no one who can change her mind.

Has a sense of justice, but doesn’t act on it.

Scared of the backlash (by my brother’s words).

Curious ("curiosity killed the cat" vibes).

Her Aspirations, Goals, and Ideals

Hasn’t found a purpose in life.

She wants justice for the commoners…kinda?

Still looks back at the hierarchy that is in place in the divine city, so she doesn’t do anything (at least during the time of writing this).

Background/Past

She is a middle to upper-class citizen.

Lives mostly alone with maids and her servants.

Her parents are financially successful.

They mostly are always on business trips and not with her a lot.

Was taught to haggle expertly by her parents.

She studies in VOXIA, Academy of Mages.

Inspirations for her clothes

Greece and Greek clothing mixed with fantasy clothing.

Mage clothing.

She is trying to become a mage.

Mm! This is indeed accurate to what I envisioned. I daresay you've read her character thoroughly enough to understand her!

(there's no green flag emoji, so I'm just going to leave the color green here 🟩)

[zenasfuxk]

Even when he had a girlfriend, he couldn't help but feeling this compelling weakness taking over him, he said.

After dinner, we had a walk along the river. I was his weakness, he said, I – since the very first time he saw me. He couldn't think of anybody else. There were no girls like me, anywhere in the world, he said.

The first thing I did: smile. Because I'm vain.

The second thing I did: speak. It's just the idea of me, I said. It wasn't sudden modesty, I do believe in what he said – I am special, I am smart, I am attractive. But I don't think C really knows me, and I don't think he really listens to me.

Sometimes boys won't let you speak and then tell you they love talking to you.

Why do they do this?

I wonder if I am for C – and for D, too, who brought me a little souvenir from Greece, where he went with his girlfriend – what Odette, Cecilia and Laide were for Proust, Moravia and Buzzati. These beautiful, unique, special women us readers know nothing about. Nothing. They only tell us these women are evil, elusive, whores and, most of all, they don't want this love these men fill their mouth with. That's all.

Not even the protagonists of these stories know them, and yet, or perhaps precisely for this mystery, they desperately fall in love with them.

C said I'm ungettable, a real challenge, and D often accuses me to be cold, snob and vain. And yet they chase me because they perceive my mystery as a limitation and a slavery. And is this supposed to be love? Even Buzzati asked himself: and you call this love? They know nothing about us, they don't listen to us, don't understand us or admire us. Do we exist to them? If their hand touches our chest does it pierce the flesh?

Am I an idea? Do I haunt some man's sleep as a perverse fantasy? And where do I go when he wakes up in the morning? I jump into myself and wonder if I am real. I linger over my writing, trying to remember I do exist and I could hear my voice if I moved my lips. I am tired of this story. I can write it differently. I need to be the writer. I am tired of this story, these authors and their mute women. I will write it differently. I will.

[toaverse]

Disney Modern Au prompt:

Based on the Princess Diana interview in 1995, Mirabel and Bruno was interviewed by Mr. Kermit Frog on live television about their past relationship with their ex-family, including child abuse/neglect, manipulative and suffered mistreatment from them. Even Julieta and Augustine, Antoino, Dolores, Camilo and Luisa also spoke out against their family. Julieta felt like she’s being controlled by her own mother by obeying her. Antoino spoke how Mirabel was forced to be his nanny/babysitter since he was a baby and Luisa talked about how overwhelmed she was when she had to do some heavy chores around the house after work. Camilo also exposed his mom and grandma when they asked him to not make jokes about them which was the result of his comedy show being canceled due to low audiences rate but Mirabel did reach out if he would like to be a model of her clothing line in which he accepted.

After the interview, it became number 1 trendy on Twitter and a national topic around the world. To add even more insult, Bruno even published a book exposing his ex-family toxic household environment. The Madrigal (but mostly Alma, Pepa, and Isabela) were immediately pariahs in town and the people stopped talking to them. Pepa and Isabela were fired from their job by their boss after the interview was aired and nobody wants a bully to work for them. Alma, Pepa and Isabela did their own interview and act like they are “deeply sorry” for what they caused and admit of the abuse and mistreatment and wish they could “rekindle” their relationship and hope they forgive them but their interview ends up in a disaster. On the day their interview airs, Mirabel and Bruno (along with Augustine and Juileta, Antonio, Luisa, Dolores, and Camilo) attend the formal celebration to celebrate Mirabel successful business with the two wearing gorgeous black attire which the media dub the uncle and niece’s outfit as “The Revenge looks”.

Hmm, interesting!

Tho I think it would only be Bruno who would expose his mother's and sister's behavior and how they treated him and Mirabel, or at least drag them to court from across the country if they decided to contact him or Mira.

Mira would stand up to them someday, just not on TV.

as for the others:

Isabela would stay with the family, especially for her Abuela and favorite Tía. Tho that didn't mean that Isa would never change her crappy behavior and redeem herself😄 (thank you, Anastasia!).

Luisa would probably move out of Bogotá, considering taking a small vacation to Greece, maybe even moving there. She always wanted to see the beauty of that country. And it wasn't like Luisa wouldn't have contact with Mirabel and Antonio. She could always talk to them!

Julieta would probably stay as well, only because her mother, her sister and her family, and oldest daughter were still in Bogotá with her. Yes, her husband was working in the US, and she deeply missed her brother and youngest daughter, but Julieta hated seeing the family split apart...

Dolores would definitely stay with the family, especially with her parents, older prima and younger brother. She was close to them, and didn't want her and Mariano's children deprived of grandparents and their Tío. Besides, she had a great job and amazing friends. She didn't want to give that up.

Camilo would also stay. He loved his family, and didn't want to leave them, especially his mamá and papá. Though Camilo did miss Antonio and Mirabel...

Antonio however, would leave. He'd head to Cali with Cecilia, even considering moving to another country in Latin-America after graduating college. After everything he remembered, and after Mirabel told him about how his Mamá and Abuela forced her to be his nanny since she was 10, Antonio wanted to move away from his parents, wanting nothing to do with them. He needed to be away from the family and them constantly pressuring him anyways, a breath of fresh air.

[blueiscoool]

Saint Aebbe Cut Off Her Nose to Spite Her Face

If you’ve ever heard the saying “cut off your nose to spite your face,” have you ever wondered where it came from? Legend has it that Saint Aebbe, also known as Saint Ebba or Æbbe the Younger, was a pious woman who disfigured her face to protect her chastity from invading Vikings in the 9th century, giving birth to this famous saying in the process.

This bizarre English idiom is still in use even today, though its modern-day meaning has different connotations to the original. These days it is used to describe a self-destructive act or overreaction, usually motivated by anger or revenge, and whose ultimate consequence is to do more harm to oneself rather than the offending party.

Apparently, a group of Vikings, led by children of Ragnar Lothbrok, arrived on the shores of Scotland around 870, and ended up burning and sacking Coldingham. When Aebbe the Younger, the Abbess of Coldingham Priory on the southeast coast of Scotland, discovered they had arrived, she cut off her own nose in a desperate bid to avoid being raped by the invaders.

She was also said to have convinced the other nuns to cut off their noses. The sight encountered by the Vikings must have been truly hideous. Nevertheless, while they escaped forcible violation, their actions still irked their assailants who continued to burn down the convent. The nuns were killed in the flames. Their purity had been preserved but they ultimately came to an untimely demise. In some accounts, the day of their martyrdom is given as the 23rd of August.

These events were first recorded in Chronica Majora by the Benedictine monk Matthew Paris (circa 1200 to 1259), written over 300 years after the events actually took place. They also made an appearance within the Flores Historiarum , though it has remained impossible to prove, or disprove, these accounts for lack of archival evidence. It’s also impossible to know if this was truly the origin of the saying.

While it sounds like a truly horrific turn of events, nose mutilation was actually a pretty common form of punishment and torture throughout ancient world. Known as a rhinectomy, the removal of the nose was a type of corporal punishment in ancient Egypt, whereby the noses of certain criminals were cut off  as a permanent sign of their crimes and they were then banished to Rhinocolura. There are also accounts from the Persian Empire, ancient Greece, medieval Europe and pre-Columbian America.

According to Plutarch’s De Exilio, King Lysimachus of Thrace cut off the nose and ears of a subject who insulted his wife. He also gouged out his eyes to ensure the message was received loud and clear. Heracles in Thebes was given the nickname Rhinokoloustes, meaning “the nose-docker,” since he reportedly had the noses removed of all messengers sent by Orchomenos to demand tribute. Even the Old Testament recommended rhinectomies in the case of prostitution.

By Cecilia Bogaard.

[openheartfanfics]

Newly Added Fics

Sep 24 - 30, 2022  

🎭 Angst  |  🦚 Angsty Fluff  |  🛸 AU  |  ☁ Fluff  |  ♥ NSFW  |  📚 Series  |  📷 Edit  |  📱 TextFic  |  Ⓜ Mature

BRYCE LAHELA

Both are Good: An Open Heart/Platinum Crossover - @aallotarenunelma & @peonierose 🛸

A chance meeting between Bryce Lahela and Raleigh Carrera leads to an unexpected friendship.

BRYCE X F!OC

Pink Champagne - @peonierose 📷 ☁

Luna and her friends celebrate her birthday and her bachelorette party. Going away on a trip to Greece.

ETHAN X F!MC / F!OC

A Weekend Away With The Ramsey’s - @genevievemd  📷 ☁

Ethan and Gen get the keys to their new vacation home on the cape and spend the weekend. [Social Media]

Closure - @liaromancewriter  🎭

When an ex asks Ethan for a second chance, he realizes that the past is best left behind. Feat. Harper Emery [Ex Came Back]

Faking - @txemrn  ☁

With baby Ramsey not sleeping through the night, Ethan and Tatum make a pact of who gets up with the little one. [Domestic; Family]

Falling Into Ruin - @the-pale-goddess 🎭

Tension rises between Tiffany and Ethan at the Halloween party. [Donahue’s; Pining]

In Sickness and In Health - @potionsprefect  ☁

Victoria struggles with a serious case of morning sickness. [Pregnancy; Illness/Injury]

Long Time Coming - @jerzwriter  ♥

Kaycee and Ethan have been looking forward to this night for a long time, but when things go wrong, Kaycee drowns her sorrows...can they salvage the night? [Donahue’s; Public]

Luck of the Draw - @jamespotterthefirst  ☁

There’s no one else in the world she’d rather be stuck with. [Office]

Rangi Saari - @gryffindordaughterofathena ☁

It's his first time seeing her wearing a saari (traditional wear of women of Bengal).

Sensual Sunday - @utterlyinevitable ♥

Nothing could deter Ethan from loving his Rebecca. Not even some chub rub. [Oral]

Something Happened on the Way to Forever - @danijimenezv  📚 ☁

[mini: wip] Wedding planning is not always as easy and smooth as people seem to thing. These are a few key moments and bumps in the road that happened in between their engagement and their actual wedding.

Part 1: The Engagement Party

The Intern’s Birthday - @cryomyst  ☁

Ethan’s plans to let Alex off on her birthday clashes with her brother’s plans to celebrate with her.

Under Her Spell - @lem-20 🎭

Cecilia is wearing a costume and Ethan can’t tear his eyes out of her. [Donahue’s; Pining]

ETHAN X TOBIAS

Haunting - @jerzwriter  ☁ 👻

When Tobias makes plans for a double date with Ethan. He insists he has a foolproof plan, but who ends up the fool in the end?

Jealousy, Jealousy - @peonyblossom 🦚

When Ethan is struggling with the unfairness that is life, he decides he must confide in Tobias about the issue. TW: Discussion of infertility

SIENNA X M!OC

Hilltop Haunts - @liaromancewriter  ☁👻

Max takes Sienna on a haunted tour of their neighborhood, and there are more thrills than chills.

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

[brookston]

Holidays 11.22

Holidays

Alice's Restaurant Massacre Day

Arbour Day (British Virgin Islands)

Conspiracy Theory Day

Day of Justice (Azerbaijan)

Day of the Albanian Alphabet

Go For A Ride Day

Good Married Couple Day (Japan)

Hockey Day

Humane Society Day

International Music Day

JFK Assassination Day

Kanakdasa Jayanti (Karnataka, India)

Music Day (Spain)

Musican’s Day (Mexico)

National Brand Day

National Housing Day (Canada)

National Stop the Violence Day

Phonograph Day

Skywriting Day

Slumber Party Day

Start Your Own Country Day

Teacher’s Day (Costa Rica)

White Album Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Cranberry Relish Day

National Cashew Day

4th Tuesday in November

National Day of Mourning (United American Indians of New England) [4th Tuesday]

Presidential Turkey Pardon Day [4th Tuesday]

Independence Days

Lebanon (from France, 1943)

Feast Days

Amphilochius of Iconium (Christian; Saint)

Blackbeard Memorial Day (Pastafarian)

Cecilia (Christian; Saint)

Clone Day (Church of the SubGenius)

Colbert (Positivist; Saint)

George (Eastern Orthodox; Georgia)

Herbert (Christian; Saint)

Light Snow (Chinese Farmer’s Calendar)

Philemon and Appia (Christian; Saint)

Pragmatius of Autun (Christian; Saint)

Theodorus the Studite (Christian; Saint)

Vernon the Grizzly Bear (Muppetism)

Ydalir (festival to Ullr, god of archery & skiing; Ancient Norse)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Tomobiki (友引 Japan) [Good luck all day, except at noon.]

Premieres

The Addams Family )Film; 1991)

Back to the Future Part II (Film; 1989)

The Beatles [The White Album] (Album; 1968)

Beauty and the Beast (Animated Disney Film; 1991)

Blue Hawaii (Film; 1961) [Elvis Presley #8]

Boléro, by Maurice Ravel (Orchestral Work; 1928)

Casino (Film; 1995)

Coco (Animated Film; 2017)

Darkest Hour (Film; 2017)

Die Another Day (US Film; 2002) [James Bond #20]

Frida (Film; 2002)

Frozen 2 (Animated Disney Film; 2019)

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire (Film; 2013)

Hypnotize, by System of a Down (Album; 2005)

Jelly Roll Blues, recorded by Bunny Berigan (Song; 1938)

King Solomon’s Mines (Film; 1985)

Man of La Mancha (Broadway Musical; 1965)

The Producers (Film; 1967)

Toy Story (Animated Pixar Film; 1995)

Vitalogy, by Pearl Jam (Album; 1994)

With the Beatles, by The Beatles (Album; 1963)

Today’s Name Days

Cäcilia, Salvator (Austria)

Cecilija, Cilika, Dobrila, Filemon (Croatia)

Cecílie (Czech Republic)

Cecilia (Denmark)

Cecilia, Säsil, Silja, Silje, Sille (Estonia)

Cecilia, Seela, Selja, Silja (Finland)

Cécile (France)

Cäcilia, Rufus, Salvator, Silja (Germany)

Cecilia, Filemon, Filimon, Philimon, Valerios (Greece)

Cecília (Hungary)

Cecilia (Italy)

Aldis, Aldonis, Alfons, Alfonss, Alfs (Latvia)

Cecilija, Cilė, Dargintė, Steikintas (Lithuania)

Cecilie, Silje, Sissel (Norway)

Cecylia, Marek, Maur, Wszemiła (Poland)

Cecília (Slovakia)

Cecilio, Filemón (Spain)

Cecilia, Sissela (Sweden)

Cecelia, Philemon, Yaropolk (Ukraine)

Abbey, Abbie, Abby, Abigail, Cecelia, Cecil, Cecilia, Cecily, Cecyl, Celia, Gail Gale, Galen, Gay, Gayle, Philemon, Philo, Shayla, Sheila (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 326 of 2022; 39 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 2 of week 47 of 2022

Celtic Tree Calendar: Hagal (Constraint) [Day 25 of 28]

Chinese: Month 10 (Lùyuè), Day 29 (Ji-Mao)

Chinese Year of the: Tiger (until January 22, 2023)

Hebrew: 28 Cheshvan 5783

Islamic: 27 Rabi II 1444

J Cal: 26 Mir; Foursday [26 of 30]

Julian: 9 November 2022

Moon: 2%: Waning Crescent

Positivist: 18 Frederic (12th Month) [Colbert]

Runic Half Month: Nyd (Necessity) [Day 13 of 15]

Season: Autumn (Day 61 of 90)

Zodiac: Scorpio (Day 31 of 31)

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 9.17

Holidays

Arbaeen of Hosseini (Iran) [40th Day after Ashura]

Australian Citizenship Day (Australia)

Battle Flag Day

Citizenship Day (f.k.a. "I Am An American" Day)

Constitution Day

Crown Prince Tupouto'a 'Ulukalala (Tonga)

Eleven Days of Global Unity, Day 7: Women

Empire Day (Emperor Norton)

Feast of the Pilgrims (Villers-Perwin, Belgium)

Fiestas Pátrias (Chile)

Fundación de Melilla (Melilla, Spain)

Guess Who Day (Winnipeg, Canada)

International Country Music Day

Linux Day

Love and Friendship Day (Colombia)

LP Record Unveiling Day

Marathwada Liberation Day (Maharashtra)

Naked Bicycle Race Day

National Female Civility Day

National Fox Day

National Heroes’ Day (Angola)

National Pet Carbon Dioxide Safety Day

National Professional House Cleaners Day

National Table Shuffleboard Day

New Dog Tricks Day

Operation Market Garden Day (Netherlands)

Pledge Across America Day [Sep 17 or nearest Monday]

Pompéia (Sao Paulo, Brazil)

Sybirak’s Day (Poland)

Teachers’ Day (Honduras)

Time’s Up Day

VFW Ladies Auxiliary Day

Vishwakarma Puja (Jharkhand & Uttarakhand, India)

Von Steuben Day

World Patient Safety Day (UN)

Food & Drink Celebrations

Apple Dumpling Day

International Lambic Day

National Bakery Day

National Monte Cristo Day

3rd Sunday in September

Federal Day of Thanksgiving, Repentance and Prayer (Switzerland) [3rd Sunday]

International Day of Prayer & Action for Human Habitat [3rd Sunday]

Kaua’i Mokihana Festival begins (Hawaii) [3rd Sunday]

National Back to Church Sunday [3rd Sunday]

National Neighborhood Day [3rd Sunday]

National Women's Friendship Day [3rd Sunday]

Pig Face Sunday (Avening, UK) [3rd Sunday]

Swiss Federal Fast (Switzerland) [3rd Sunday]

Tolkein Week begins [Sunday in Week that includes 9.22]

Wife Appreciation Day [3rd Sunday]

World Peace Day [3rd Sunday]

Independence Days

Heist-op-den-Berg (Declared; 2010) [unrecognized]

Scientopia (Declared; 2008) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Albert of Vercelli (Christian; Saint)

Ariadne of Phrygia (Christian; Saint)

Cecilia Eusepi (Christian; Blessed)

Columba (Christian; Saint)

Festival of Min Kyawzwa (Burmese God of Drinking)

François Marius Granet (Artology)

Ganesha Chaturthi (Festival to god of prosperity, Prudence & success; Hindu)

Hildegard of Bingen (Christian; Saint) [hop-growers] *

Lambert (Christian; Saint)

Media Aestas XI (Pagan)

Niketeria (Ancient Greece)

Robert Bellarmine (Christian; Saint)

Rouin (a.k.a. Rodingus or Chrodingus; Christian; Saint)

Samuel Prout (Artology)

Satyrus of Milan (Christian; Saint)

Shiku (Muppetism)

Socrates and Stephen (Christian; Martyrs)

Stanislaus Papczyński (Christian; Saint)

Stigmata of Francis (Christian; Saint)

Tirso (Positivist; Saint)

Wear Purple Day (Pastafarian)

William Shatner Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Zygmunt Szczęsny Feliński (Christian; Saint)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Butsumetsu (仏滅 Japan) [Unlucky all day.]

Fortunate Day (Pagan) [37 of 53]

Premieres

The Age of Innocence (Film; 1993)

Almost Perfect (TV Series; 1995)

Alpha and Omega (Animated Film; 2010)

Ænima, by Tool (Album; 1996)

Anna (Go to Him), by Arthur Alexander (Song; 1962)

Archer (Animated TV Series; 2009)

Battlestar Gallactica (TV Series; 1978)

The Berlin Stories, by Christopher Isherwood (Novel; 1945)

Bewitched (TV Series; 1964)

Blackadder the Third (UK TV Series; 1987)

Boris Godunov, by Alexander Pushkin (Play; 1870)

Community (TV Series; 2009)

Divine Madness (Concert Film; 1980)

Easy A (Film; 2010)

For Love of the Game (Film; 1999)

Ghost in the Sheep 2: Innocence (Anime Film; 2004)

Goldfinger premiered in London (1964) [James Bond #3]

Happy Days, by Samuel Beckett (Play; 1961)

Home Improvement (TV Series; 1991)

The Keeper of the Bees, by Gene Stratton-Porter (Novel; 1925)

Lord of the Flies, by William Golding (Novel; 1954)

M*A*S*H (TV Series; 1972)

Mike’s New Car (Pixar Cartoon; 2002)

Nona (Pixar Cartoon; 2021)

The Ocean Waves or Hi, Divers (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 213; 1963)

Pirates of Venus, by Edgar Rice Burroughs (Novel; 1932) [Venus #1]

Ride Him, Bosko! (WB LT Cartoon; 1932)

Something Wicked This Way Comes, by Ray Bradbury (Novel; 1962)

Speedy Gonzales (WB MM Cartoon; 1955)

Spin City (TV Series; 1996)

Squid Game (TV Series; 2021)

Swing Ding Amigo (WB LT Cartoon; 1966)

The Thin Red Line, by James Jones (Novel; 1962)

Topsy Turvy, Part 6 (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 214; 1963)

Use Your Illusion, by Guns N’ Roses (Albums; 1991)

The Wall (Animated Film; 1982)

The Whoopee Party (Disney Cartoon; 1932)

Wimbledon (Film; 2004)

The Wisdom of Insecurity, by Alan W. Watts (Spiritual Book; 1951)

Wise Up Ghost, by Elvis Costello (Album; 2013)

Today’s Name Days

Lambert, Robert (Austria)

Lyuba, Lyuben, Lyubomir, Lyubov, Nadezhda, Nadya, Sevda, Sofiya, Vera, Vyara (Bulgaria)

Hildegarda, Kerubina, Robert (Croatia)

Naděžda (Czech Republic)

Lambertu (Denmark)

Hilda, Hildegard, Hille, Hilli, Ille, Illi (Estonia)

Aila, Aili (Finland)

Hildegarde, Lambert, Renaud (France)

Ariane, Hildegard, Robert (Germany)

Agape, Agapi, Elpida, Sofia, Sophia (Greece)

Zsófia (Hungary)

Benedetto, Ildegarda, Roberto (Italy)

Solvita, Vaira, Vairis, Vera (Latvia)

Pranas, Pranciškus, Sintautas, Sintautė (Lithuania)

Hildebj, Hildegunn (Norway)

Ariadna, Dezyderiusz, Drogosław, Franciszek, Hildegarda, Justyn, Justyna, Lambert, Lamberta, Narcyz, Teodora (Poland)

Olympia (Slovakia)

Ariadna, Ariana, Belarmino, Roberto (Spain)

Hildegard, Magnhild (Sweden)

Luba, Lubov, Nadia, Sonia, Soophia (Ukraine)

Ariadne, Ariana, Arianna, Hildegard, Hildegarde, Lambert, Lambertine (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 260 of 2024; 105 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 37 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Muin (Vine) [Day 13 of 28]

Chinese: Month 8 (Xin-You), Day 3 (Wu-Yin)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 2 Tishri 5784

Islamic: 2 Rabi I 1445

J Cal: 20 Aki; Sixday [20 of 30]

Julian: 4 September 2023

Moon: 6%: Waxing Crescent

Positivist: 8 Shakespeare (10th Month) [Tirso]

Runic Half Month: Ken (Illumination) [Day 6 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 88 of 94)

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 27 of 32)

[endlessly-cursed]

HPHL LADIES ANCIENT GREECE AU

Primrose Gray as the goddess of wisdom, perseverance, and diplomacy

Cecilia Balinor as the goddess of war, and feminine rage

Blanche Dubois as the goddess of marriage, fertility (especially bearing sons) and success

Beatrice Brown as a priestess of Persephone

Nilüfer Sultan as Princess of Persia

Sara Rosier as goddess of love, desire, mutual attraction and beauty, especially feminine

Gisella Baptiste as the goddess of the moon and the night

Divya Parsons as the goddess of kidness, tranquility, protector of the home's fire and good crops

Mandy Parkinson as the goddess of deceit, conceit and discord

Made with this dolldivine

I dare @cursebreakerfarrier @hufflefluffs @camillejeaneshphm @unfortunate-arrow @thatravenpuffwitch @kc-and-co @beloved-bucky @the-al-chemist @slytherindisaster @kathrynalicemc @lifeofkaze @gaygryffindorgal @gcldensnitch to make their own Ancient Greece AU. If you aren't well versed in the era, do hmu and I'll happily help. My DMs and asks are open

[itscitylife24gr]

(via CECILIA KRULL: Η «ΦΩΝΗ» ΤΟΥ «LA CASA DE PAPEL» ΕΡΧΕΤΑΙ ΣΤΗΝ ΕΛΛΑΔΑ - City Life 24)

[youngneemleaves]

One of the curious facts we have to respond to, even if we chose not to believe in the myth of an original matriarchy, is that the strength of the heroine in Attic tragedy contradicts the oppression of real, historic women. If women were invisible in ancient Athens, and if democracy and tragedy were an affair for free men, why were so many tragedies about women? The question is not why female characters are flawed or even evil, by they appear at all, given the male dominance in Athenian society. How can a feminine subject be represented in a society dominated by men, which renders her politically and socially invisible? Can we really use the testimony of a tragic play, written and performed by men for other men, to reveal something about feminine desire? Clearly the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of real women have disappeared under the projections of male fantasies. Women become screens of projection and are portrayed as troublesome, dying unheroic deaths through hanging or suicide. Or they are sacrificed in a pattern determined by their value as objects of exchange within a patriarchal economy; death thus becomes a punishment for their threatening sexuality. The female heroine is the product of a society dominated by men, a threatening fantasy of the Other. But Greek literature, however dominated by male writers, lets female “countercultures” shine through.

- Cecilia Sjöholm, The Antigone Complex: Ethics and the Invention of Feminine Desire (Stanford University Press, 2004) :: Chapter 2: Sexuality Versus Recognition: Feminine Desire in the Ethical Order  

[dekzshan-blog]

At A-Fest Greece 2016, Cecilia Sardeo, Co-Founder and Host of Zenward, explains how she underwent a personal transformation by tuning into her breath, and realizing that she already had exactly what she needed within her. If interested in Yoga, discover Zenward: http://bit.ly/2edr4aX IMPORTANT TIMESTAMPS: 01:38 Story of Cecilia’s life 5 years ago 06:20 Action of breathing 09:50 Being present with mind and body 11:43 Introducing Zen Ward Staying present comes down to one thing: breathing. While it seems so simple, staying present in your breath can have knock-on effects in all areas of your life — halting mental chatter, and allowing things to flow. In this powerful talk, ABOUT CECILIA SARDEO Cecilia Sardeo is a speaker, yoga expert, businesswoman, and the Co-Founder and host of Zenward — Mindvalley's yoga academy. Cecilia is a founder of Mindvalley Italy, and is involved in Omnama, Italy's premier meditation app. With Zenward, Cecilia has made yoga accessible to thousands of people, and helped them to turn their lives around — one pose at a time. ABOUT A-FEST A-Fest is an invite-only transformational event that gathers an extraordinary community of change-makers and visionaries who are driven by epic ideas to impact the world – entrepreneurs, employees, artists, leaders, innovators, visionaries and more. Take the first step to joining us in paradise by applying for your invite here: http://bit.ly/21jCNHK The festival takes place twice a year in paradise locations around the world. Here, you will receive powerful training, profound mind shifts, bio-hacking techniques, deep connections, incredible adventures and unique opportunities to multiply your impact and give back to humanity, so that you can play an even bigger game and significantly expand your ability to accomplish bold things.

[tiaramania]

Do you know anything about the tiara worn by Queen Amalia of Greece in her portrait by Stieler?

I don’t really know anything about Queen Amalia’s tiara.  Royal Magazin thinks that is might be the same tiara worn by Amalia’s step-mother, Grand Duchess Cecilia of Oldenburg (below), but it’s difficult to tell from paintings that may or may not represent the tiara accurately.  Queen Amalia didn’t have any children and I don’t know what happened to the tiara.

[tom-isaacs]

Quipu Womb (The Story of the Red Thread, Athens) - Cecilia Vicuña

“Although better known as a poet in her adoptive North American home (she has lived in New York since the 1980s), Cecilia Vicuña has stayed true to her youthful calling as a genre-bending visual artist for more than forty years, and her site-specific projects highlight the artist’s talent for composing poems in space, for a visceral lyricism in three dimensions. Vicuña refers to these particular works as ‘quipoems’—a contraction of poem and quipu; an online dictionary defines quipu, rather reductively, as ‘a device consisting of a cord with knotted strings of various colors attached, used by the ancient Peruvians for recording events, keeping accounts, etc.’ A pre-Columbian type of writing, in other, more poetical words—product of a literary tradition that has given the world such luminaries as Gabriela Mistral, Pablo Neruda, and Nicanor Parra. Vicuña, who was born in 1948 in Santiago de Chile, is supremely aware of the weight of Indigenous history anchoring twentieth-century Latin American culture.

“Blown up to the monumental proportions of immersive ‘soft sculpture,’ her recent Athenian quipoem consists of giant strands of untreated wool, sourced from a local Greek provider, dyed a startling crimson in honor of a syncretic religious tradition that, via the umbilical cord of menstrual symbolism, connects Andean mother goddesses with the maritime mythologies of ancient Greece.”

(source)

[grandmaster-anne]

The daughters of H.R.H. Princess Andrew of Greece, who are acting as bridesmaids at the wedding of Lord Louis Mountbatten and Miss Ashley; Princess Cecilia, Princess Margaret, Princess Sophia, Princess Theodora.