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celiastjamesoscar · 10 months

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Umbrella Paradox

Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: When visiting a local cafe shop late one night, you meet the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, but you get off on the wrong foot.

Warnings: murder accusations, mention of drug use, light swearing, slight dark humor (my first time writing something ever)

Word count: 5.5k

Read pt 2 here

The streets of New York City were desolate at this hour: few and far patrons wandered into the small coffee shop. A faint chill was in the air, but not enough to make one wear a jacket. The type of chill someone can breathe in and feel in their bones. The kind of chill that anyone from the Midwest would recognize, the tell-tale signs that a storm was coming. From the way the trees rustled to the smell of the air and even to how the local dogs, who were ordinarily quiet, began to bark and growl, all signs pointed towards that of a storm.

Even though it's known as “The City That Never Sleeps,” the city seemed peaceful to the woman who worked the shop. Today had been one of the busiest days; the order for cappuccinos never ended, and Sam was ready for it to end. For the past hour and a half, however, the coffee shop had been a ghost town, the only souls that haunted the shop were Sam and one of her coworkers who just sat in the back, waiting for their shift to end. Within the four walls of solitude, a quietness quickly disappeared as Sam heard the loud cracks of thunder. As if Mother Nature had flipped a switch, a downpour of rain seemed to swallow the small shop.

As dusk hours dragged on, the little hand on the clock crawled towards 1, and the bell above the door dinged. The words “What can I get for you?” were already leaving her lips before she looked up, but she felt like the world had shifted when she saw the woman before her.

The woman in front of Sam was close to her height; maybe even taller-it was hard for Sam to tell-and she had a scar on her left eye. It went an inch or two above her eyebrow and was three inches below her eye. She wore a black uniform resembling an EMT: buttoned-up collared shirt with two chest pockets, military creases, and tactical pants. As she approached the counter, Sam took in the top of her uniform: she had a small badge on her left collarbone that said ‘emergency medical technician’ with the symbol of Caduceus on it. On her right, read the name ‘Y/N.’ Across her shoulder, she carried a red bag that had a white Caduceus symbol stitched on it. She also had a walkie-talkie hooked onto her belt and held an umbrella.

“Espresso and potato soup.” The woman said as she stood before Sam. She had a dry tone, almost as if she was irritated that Sam had asked her what she wanted.

“Hot or cold?” Sam gently asked as she studied the woman: she had bags under her eyes and wore a stressed expression.

“What?” The woman responded with the same dry tone.

“Your drink. Do you want it hot or cold?” Sam repeated herself, losing the gentle tone and speaking with a slightly irritated one instead.

The woman asked irritatedly, “Why would I want a cold coffee? That defeats the purpose.” Sam had to fight herself not to roll her eyes at the comment and instead added up the total.

“Okay, that will be $8.75,” Sam said as she watched Y/N dig around her pockets for her wallet. Eventually, the woman pulled out her money along with three quarters and paid Sam before walking off to sit in the corner of the shop, taking off her bag and placing her umbrella on the floor. Sam placed the order for the woman and went to count the money but soon found out she was two dollars short.

“Miss, you are short two dollars,” Sam spoke with gentleness in her voice even though she could not understand why but quickly regarded it once the woman mumbled something under her breath and threw the two dollars onto the counter. Sam scoffed at the woman’s actions but began making her coffee.

As Sam finished making the coffee, her coworker brought up the soup and placed it by Sam, sparing a glance at the woman in the corner, “Just think, a little over an hour to go,” they said with a smile as they disappeared quickly into the kitchen. "It’s going to be the longest hour of my life,” Sam thought as she grabbed the soup and coffee and walked toward the woman.

“Here’s your soup and coffee. Enjoy,” Sam said as she placed the items in front of the woman, who said nothing in return. Minutes seemed like hours as the woman ate her soup and drank her coffee, and Sam was bored. The only thing on her mind was the downpour outside and the woman in the corner, though she would never admit that to herself. Y/N had been the only customer in the past–Sam quickly glanced at the clock–two hours. Out of boredom, Sam began wiping down tables, preparing for closing even though the shop closed in thirty minutes.

As if snapping out of a daydream, the woman quickly noted Sam’s action and finished her meal and drink. She got up, placed the bowl on the counter, and discarded her coffee cup. She set three dollars on the counter, spared Sam a smile–if one could call it–grabbed her umbrella, and quickly left the shop. As Y/N left the shop, a small group of teenage girls walked in, all a bit drunk, but Y/N wouldn’t tell on them.

She began walking down the street, holding the umbrella close to her as the rain continued its assault on the city. “It hasn’t rained in a month, and of course, it decides to piss it down the night I work 12 hours.” Y/N mumbler under her breath, walking a quarter of a mile back to the station. As she approached the station, she noticed something was missing. “Fuck me; I left my bag.” She grumbled as she began her saunter back to the coffee shop.

Just as she began her walk, she started thinking about the woman in the cafe. Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t find the woman attractive. She had tan skin that was undoubtedly smooth and beautiful brown eyes that one could get lost in if they weren’t careful, but she also had a guarded nature. She felt terrible for how she treated the woman; Y/N had had a rough day at work, the calls for emergencies never seemed to end, and she let it affect her mood. She was usually delightful, but the long shift had gotten to her, and she seemed to have taken it out on the poor woman. The alluring woman plagued Y/N’s mind; she subconsciously quickened her pace, hoping to make it back in time before closing to apologize to the woman.

After Y/N had left the shop, Sam stopped cleaning the tables and walked over to the counter. She smiled at the tip and happily collected it as the doorbell rang again. “I’ll be with you in just a minute,” Sam said as she made eye contact with one of the girls in the group before grabbing the bowl and taking it into the kitchen. As she left, however, she heard the faintest of a whisper, but it was there, “murderer.”

Sam has not been a stranger to the accusations from strangers since the Woodsboro murders. It seems once a week; the shop gets a patron who throws around the word “murderer” while Sam is working. At first, it bothered Sam, she would cry on her breaks and smoke more cigarettes than usual, but after a while, she became immune to it all. She acted like nothing bothered her when she was with Tara, as she didn’t want her baby sister to worry about her. But that’s all Tara did.

Tara noticed the subtle details: Sam would have puffy eyes and smudged mascara, things that would go unnoticed by the average eye but not to Tara. Then more significant things began to happen; Sam’s mood would change on a dime, she started to smell like cigarettes more often, and she had bags under her eyes. Of course, Tara rebelled against her sister, just like any typical freshman in college would do against their parents. Tara only acted out as a way to push Sam away from her. Tara’s entire life, people have left her: her dad, her sister, and her mom, who has been absent most of her life. She wanted to prove she was the problem: Tara was why everyone she loved left her. In her mind, Tara believed she didn’t deserve love and was too much to deal with, so she pushed Sam away.

But once Sam started coming home with her work clothes covered in coffee or cherry coke, Tara began to behave herself. She would order pizza before Sam’s shift would end and have a movie ready to play when she got home. Sometimes, if she felt adventurous and brave enough, she would cook a meal for the two of them. Once, she tried cooking one of Sam’s favorite meals but almost burnt down the apartment. Neither talked about it; instead just laughed over their Chinese takeout about the disaster. Tara never asked Sam about her job, as she figured it would only add to her sister’s guilt: having her little sister worry about her when she was already struggling enough to get over the trauma of Woodsboro. Instead, Tara simply showed her care for Sam through little acts they preferred. Asking each other if they were okay without words was how close they were. Sam might have gone for five years, but their bond will always be everlasting: no amount of time will ever shake their love for each other.

Sam prepared to face the inevitable and walked towards the counter, “what can I get you girls?” she asked with a polite tone and forced smile.

The girls gave Sam an unimpressed look as they pretended to look at the menu. “Let’s see here, ummmm…can I please get a latte? No, actually, how about an americano? Wait! No, I would like a mocha, please!” One of the girls stated as she twirled her hand around her finger, pretending to play dumb just to irritate Sam. Sam knew that this was going to end badly for herself, but the best she could do was force a smile, not like she’s been doing that her whole life.

After getting all their orders—which took a millennium—Sam eventually got to make their coffees. With complaints and loud sighs, the girls sat down at one of the tables Sam had just finished clearing, as the cleaning supplies were still on it. In one single motion, the girl who played dumb backhanded all the supplies off the table, crying out an “oops” as she sat down while the other girls laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up in a minute,” Sam uttered with a clenched jaw. As Sam finished talking, the doorbell chimed, but she didn’t have it in her to turn around, afraid that the girls were stalking her movements and they would see the frustration on her face, knowing they were getting to her.

“Oh, I wasn’t planning on worrying about it. I know that you know how to clean up a stain or two,” the Karen Smith wanna-be stated with an all-too-knowing smirk while twirling her hair. “How’d you do it anyway? Get away with all those murders?” She asked as she outstretched her arms when she said ‘All those murders.’

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sam voiced through gritted teeth-she didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now.

“Oh, okay then!” The girl exclaimed with a jeering expression as she bounced around in her seat before speaking more seriously, “I just thought you were that Loomis girl who murdered six of her friends and tried to kill her sister.”

Sam spoke in a tired but hardened tone, “Look, girl, I have no idea what you are trying to get at, but-” “Excuse me, may I get a pot of coffee, please?” A gentle voice interrupted Sam. She had half a mind to give the person a piece of her mind for interrupting her, but when she turned around, and the words died on her tongue. It was the woman from earlier, but this time she wore a radiant expression, and a cheeky smile rested upon her face. She rested her elbows on the countertop, leaning forward a bit.

“Yeah, just a minute,” responded Sam as she brought the coffees over to the girls. When she handed Karen wannabe her coffee, her hand “accidentally” bumped Sam’s, causing the piping hot liquid to land all over Sam, ruining her top. “Omg, I am sorry!” Even though she did not attempt to help, the girl exclaimed, “Please don’t murder Ms. Ghostface; it was seriously an accident!” At this, the girls laughed, and Sam even heard a snicker come from behind her. And sure enough, Y/N had a mischief smirk even though her eyes were choleric.

“I’m getting your cup of coffee now,” Sam sighed as she took off her apron and threw it on the counter.

“A pot of coffee, not a cup,” the woman stated as Sam gave her a puzzled look, “preferably your hottest pot as well.” Sam rolled her eyes at the statement but went and got the fresh pot of coffee her coworker had made for themselves.

Sam returned and handed the woman the pot; she didn’t bother questioning what she needed an entire pot for; as long as Sam was left alone, she didn’t care.

“Thank you-” Y/N glanced at the nametag on the coffee-stained apron, “-Sam.” She gently smiled as she spoke before swiftly approaching the group of girls.

Watching in amusement and pure curiosity, Sam stared with bewilderment as the woman threw the coffee onto the group of girls, their shrieks and screams echoing throughout the cafe. “Omg, I didn’t mean to do that!” Y/N expressed with a cheerful laugh as one of the girls started crying because her ‘perfect hair was ruined!’

“I’m going to sue your ass!” Karen wannabe shouted, standing up to wipe the coffee off her clothing.

“On what grounds? You are trespassing on private property!” Y/N laughed as she pointed towards the clock; it was fifteen past two. “Now leave before I call the cops and say that you’re refusing to leave,” with that, the girls quickly left the shop, but not without Karen wannabe scoffing at Y/N and flipping Sam off.

Y/N had placed the coffee pot on the counter and was preparing to ask Sam a question before Sam interrupted her by laughing. It wasn’t a tiny laugh; no, it was the type of laughter that has one doubled over holding their stomach type. Caught off guard by Sam’s laughter, Y/N quickly joined in.

Consequently, the coworker came up to see what the laughter was about but quickly disregarded it, said goodbye, and left. Drying the tears from her eyes as her laughter died, Sam looked around before speaking, “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to do that.”

“It was no problem, and besides, I kinda had fun doing it. Is that bad?” Y/N questioned with a worrisome look as she made eye contact with Sam.

“No, it’s not. They deserved it.” Sam joked as she looked around the shop. “I need to close up, but seriously, thank you.”

Y/N nodded as Sam walked off to the supply closet. When she returned, she found that Y/N had already begun cleaning up the mess she had made and the spilled cleaning supplies the girls had knocked over. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not holding you hostage here,” Sam joked as she walked over to the table Y/N was cleaning.

“I know, I just feel bad about this,” Y/N voiced with a sigh and waved her arm around the messy table. “I should have handled it better.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sam explained, “those girls were assholes, and they deserved a lot worse,” she finished with a laugh.

Y/N smiled at Sam, “I know. I’m Y/N, by the way,” she said as she extended her hand. Sam smiles as her eyes crinkle and accepts her hand.

“I’m Sam, but you already know that,” she replies as she slides her hand into hers. The sparks that Y/N feels when their palms connect causes her to flinch and take a deep breath momentarily. Y/N notices how Sam’s eyes snap up at hers, telling Y/N that maybe she felt it too. If Sam saw how Y/N’s eyes smiled for her and her palms began to sweat, she didn’t say it. And if Y/N noticed how Sam’s spine got the faintest chill causing her to stand up straighter, Sam was glad she didn’t say anything.

Sam pulled her hand back out of shock, her eyes darting around the room, looking everywhere but Y/N’s radiant smile. “Well then,” Sam coughed out, “we should finish up closing.” Y/N nodded in agreement, tapping her foot as she cleaned off the tables.

Occasionally, her eyes drift over to Sam, who was also cleaning tables on the other side of the cafe. It felt as though Sam was trying to put distance between herself and the EMT. It felt like she was suffocating just being near the woman; it drove her mad with anger and happiness simultaneously.

Fifteen minutes had passed before they finally finished cleaning up and preparing to lock the front doors when they realized it was still raining. “It is pissing it down out there,” Y/N stated, looking out the window. She had her umbrella in hand and her long-forgotten medical bag over her shoulder, getting ready to leave the shop before she turned to Sam, “Would you like me to walk you home?” She asked with the gentlest tone Sam had ever heard, and it almost brought a tear to her eyes. A stranger she had just met was willingly being friendly to her after hearing accusations of her being a “murderer.” She had half a mind to run in the other direction; ordinary people were never this nice to her.

“I would like that, if you don’t mind,” Sam uttered, afraid her voice would break if she spoke any louder. She was used to the cruel ways of the world now-she expected the worst but never prayed for the best. Even after all the harsh years she has dealt with, this moment with Y/N seemed to compensate for her torture.

“Let us begin our adventure then.” Y/N proclaimed as she stepped outside the door and opened her umbrella. She held the umbrella over both of them as Sam locked up the front door and pulled Sam into her side, “I don’t want you to get soaked,” Y/N expressed with a cheeky grin and loving eyes. If Sam noticed the red tint on the other woman’s face, she kept it to herself.

Sam informed her that it’s about a half-mile walk. It would take Y/N almost a mile out of her way, but she just nodded and said that’s fine. She didn’t care how long she had to walk, as she couldn’t muster a complaint with Sam by her side.

They walked the first block in complete silence; the only sound they could hear was the rain pelting down on the umbrella before Y/N spoke up, “Why were those girls accusing you of murder?” She felt Sam automatically tense up and suck in a deep breath, and it sent a dagger into her own heart.

“It’s complicated, and I don’t want to talk about it,” Sam sighed, looking down at the ground as she spoke, “Not right now, at least.”

“Okay,” Y/N said with a loving tone; it made Sam want to strangle her. Sam hated how one word made heat creep up her neck and warm her body despite the cold weather. She hated the way one stranger made her feel more loved and appreciated than anyone in her entire life ever had. And above all else, she hated how Y/N smiled at her like she was the only person in the world. Like her life meant something other than being the daughter of a serial killer.

“Why’d you do that?” Sam asked after a few beats of silence.

“Mhm? Do what?” Y/N questioned as she looked at Sam.

“Throw the coffee on those girls.”

“Oh, I did it for the shiggles,” Y/N admitted with a shrug of her shoulders and a cheeky smile.

“‘Shiggles? What does that mean?” Sam couldn’t help but laugh as the question left her lips.

“Shits and giggles, my dear Watson,” Y/N said with the same cheeky grin plastered on her face, and it took everything in Sam to look away for fear of doing something she might come to regret.

“So, were you an asshole to me earlier for the shiggles? Or was that all an act?” Sam asked as she bumped her shoulders into Y/N, slightly causing the woman to fall out from under the umbrella shelter.

“Hey! Watch it, lady! This is a vintage Prada shirt that the devil himself wore when he fought Meryl Streep!” Y/N exclaimed as she wiped the rain off of the left side of her face when she returned under the umbrella. She then wiped her hand off Sam’s clothes, earning herself a small elbow to the side.

Sam laughed at the woman’s words and actions, “have you ever seen that movie?” Sam questioned.

“No, I have not,” Y/N stated with a very serious expression but a playful manner in her eyes. Sam could not believe that this was the same woman she met earlier. “Is it bad that I think she’s kinda hot?”

“Who? Anne Hathaway, Meryl Streep, or Emily Blunt?”

“Ummm, yes?” Y/N said with her eyebrow raised like she could not believe Sam had asked her that question.

Sam’s head fell back with laughter at Y/N’s response, and Y/N swore it sounded like angels were singing. “I hate you.” Sam joked with the kindest tone Y/N had ever heard.

“Nothing about my response is funny, Sam!” Y/N exclaimed with a smile followed by frantic hand movements, “Yes to all three women, no matter the context, it's just yes!”

“Hey, I’m not disagreeing with you.”

“Mhmm, you better not be,” Y/N replied as she nudged her shoulder against Sam’s, but not hard enough to knock Sam out from under the umbrella.

“But seriously though, why were you being an asshole earlier?” Sam questioned, hoping to get an actual response out of the woman this time.

“I had a bad day at work. Too many kids shooting fireworks at each other leaving them with not enough fingers,” Y/N said as she brought her hand close to Sam’s face and began wiggling them in front of her. Sam laughed and gently pushed the EMT’s hand down, letting her hand linger for a few seconds too long before she dropped it back down by her side.

“People are still shooting off fireworks? July 4th was a couple of weeks ago,” Sam stated, shaking her head as she hoped it would get rid of warm cheeks.

“Dude, crackheads are crazy. They will blow each other’s fingers off with fireworks until mid-November.” Y/N laughed, “The first call I got today was some dude who was high on PCP, for your information, who had tried to use a firework to launch himself onto the moon!”

Sam couldn’t help but join Y/N’s laughter; she found it somewhat morbid that the woman handled such a scene with mild humor. “How do you find this stuff funny?” Sam questioned with a look of amusement.

“Perks of the job; cool uniforms followed suit by dark humor,” Y/N stated as she sent a wink Sam’s way along with some playful finger guns. If Sam noticed Y/N’s eyes peaking at her lips, she didn’t mention it. “I do want to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. I was being an asshole. Is there any way I could make it up to you?”

“Yeah, you kinda were, but you’ve made up for it,” Sam said with a lighthearted smile.

Y/N just smiled at Sam in return but quickly felt her heart flutter at Sam’s smile. She had seen Sam smile their entire walk, but for the first time, Y/N had seen her smile.

It wasn’t like the forced smile she saw when she had first met the woman; no, it was a different smile. Y/N wouldn’t even classify it as a smile if the laws of nature would allow her to; she’d call it something completely different. Something that has no negative aspect, something that has no flaws, something that the evils of man can never touch. The only words that came to mind were ‘unblemished’ and ‘pure,’ but she felt shame and embarrassment as she tried to put a word to Sam’s smile. There are no words in the English language that Y/N could scream to match that smile.

Y/N was going to say something, but all the words slipped her mind. It was as if someone had flashed her with a neuralyzer, and she only remembered the captivating woman in front of her. With what little words she could muster, she simply uttered, “I’m sorry,” followed by an awkward laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck before looking down at the rain-soaked sidewalk.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in mood, Sam tried to look at Y/N’s face, but the woman refused to meet her challenging gaze. So, Sam did what any sane person would do. She slowly brushed her fingers against Y/N’s, praying to all the gods in the world, hoping one would answer her prayer. And to her luck, a God did.

Y/N slowly bumped her hand against Sam’s and gently locked her pinky finger with Sam’s. She waited for Sam to pull back, but Y/N let go of Sam’s finger after a few seconds.

At first, Sam’s heart sank into her stomach; she was getting ready to usher out a plethora of apologies before she felt Y/N’s palm against her own. It felt as if the entire world stopped for both women, but at the same time, everything was moving faster: their breathing, their eyes, their walking pace, and their heart rates. At the same time, as if their minds were on the same wave link and they shared a telepathic ability, they both looked at each other, subtly shifting their bodies to be closer while continuing their walk.

Y/N’s eyes never left Sam’s. All she could do was stare into the woman’s eyes. The kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they even bothered to steal pieces of art. The type of eyes that Y/N longed to call home.

On the other hand, Sam did everything she could to avoid Y/N’s piercing gaze. She studied how the scar on her eye moved with her facial expressions, noted how the earlier stress lines were gone, and wondered if her lips tasted as good as they looked. She wondered if they were as soft as they looked, if she could get lost in her kisses and forget about everything else. She wondered if they would fit perfectly with her own.

Subconsciously, both women stopped walking and slowly began leaning in. They were so close they could feel each other’s breath on their lips. And if God had decided he hadn't made Sam’s life hard enough, a car flew down the road, driving through a puddle of water, causing it to soak both women. Out of instinct, Y/N dropped the umbrella to her side, causing Sam to send her a murderous glance. Sam cursed under her breath as she stared down the quickly disappearing car while Y/N tried to slow down her heartbeats. Y/N was quick to make a joke out of the situation, hoping it wasn’t too awkward between them, “well, at least your clothes were already ruined.” She said as she quickly closed the umbrella and shook herself off like a dog.

“Umm, what the hell are you doing?” Sam questioned as she gestured towards the closed umbrella.

“What? Our clothes are already soaked; we no longer need to use this thing.” Y/N stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sam huffed at Y/N’s words, mentally slapping herself for agreeing with the woman, then she reached out and linked her arm with Y/N’s. Y/N gave Sam that same gentle smile from earlier and gestured to the sidewalk with her free hand, “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Sam laughed, bumping her shoulders against Y/N’s. Neither woman complained about the downpour of rain they were walking through, but when the loud cracks of thunder started again, they dislinked their arms and instead linked their hands together, quickly running through the rain. Between the occasional thunder, the only thing that could be heard were the sounds of laughter and playful banter between the two.

Out of breath but full of life, they quickly reached the apartment complex doors and ran inside. Neither said anything at first, but when they looked at each other, they burst out laughing. “You look like a drowned rat.” Sam joked between laughs.

“Thank you, that is exactly what I was going for this morning,” Y/N said as she lightly pushed Sam. However, when Y/N’s hands touched Sam’s torso, she gently grasped Y/N’s hands and slowly placed them on her waist, moving into Y/N’s personal space. The atmosphere around them quickly changed into one full of desire and longing.

Y/N looked down at Sam’s eye, then her other one, and down at her lips before looking back up at Sam. The only thing she saw in Sam’s eyes was the same burning passion she felt, and she needed to feel something, anything from Sam. Leaning down, Y/N let her lips linger on Sam’s but never kissed her; it was her version of asking if this was okay. Y/N’s grip on Sam’s waist tightened as Sam removed her hands from hers and slowly brought them up to cup Y/N’s face. With a gentle stroke of her thumb against her cheek, Sam finally closed the distance.

The kiss is soft and gentle, unlike anything Sam has ever experienced in her entire life. She softly sighed into the EMT’s lips, releasing tension she didn’t know she had. She felt her whole body react to the kiss as if her soul told her that this was her last first kiss.

Y/N delicately kissed Sam back, worried that if she tried too hard or moved quickly, everything around her would disappear, including Sam. Y/N is so lost in Sam that she can’t even hear the loud thumping of her own heartbeat against her rib cage and ringing throughout her eardrums. The only thing on her mind was the soft stroke of Sam’s thumb against her cheek and the tender lips against her own. Slowly and reluctantly, the two separated but rested their foreheads together.

Out of breath, Y/N whispered against Sam’s lips, “When can I see you again?”

Sam let out a laugh before slightly pulling back, just far enough where she could look Y/N in the eyes and still be in her arms. “You know where I work. Figure it out.” She said as she leaned up to kiss Y/N’s cheek while gently stroking her other cheek before slowly making her way up the stairs to her apartment.

Y/N was so lost in thought that her mind only began to register what had happened when she lost the warmth of Sam. She watched as Sam slowly walked up the first few steps before calling out, “You are really going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

Sam smiled as she leaned against the railing, looking down at Y/N, “If I remember correctly, you asked me how you could compensate me for being an asshole.”

Y/N scoffed at Sam’s words but spoke with a smile on her face, “I thought you said I had already made it up to you?”

“Well, I lied. See you at the coffee shop sometime!” Sam called out with a wave of her hand as she quickly walked up the stairs. She didn’t want Y/N to see the giant smile on her place that accompanied a faint blush on her tan skin.

Y/N couldn’t help the grin that overtook her face at Sam’s words. ‘At least she wants to see me again!’ She thought as she practically skipped out of the apartment complex, leaving her umbrella behind.

This is my first time writing anything, so I apologize if this was bad. If anyone has any requests, let me know!

#sam carpenter #melissa barrera #tara carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x y/n

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devieuls · 10 months

Text

ˋ Let me Love you༄ ✴

Neteyam Sully x Na'vi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Dom Neteyam x Fem Na'vi Reader.

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; slut shaming; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoorsex; jealousy BDSM.

ANGST: mention of suicide, toxic relationship, words inherent in death, sexual assault, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. and FLUFF. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Neteyam 22 y.o / You 19 y.o.

Synopsis: In the darkest point of your life, swallowed by the abyss, you decide to put an end to your sufferings, seeking relief in the extreme act. Your life was an intricate dance between life and death, and when life decided to take leave and leave death alone in you, you got lost. And as if he had been sent by Eywa himself, a mysterious Na'vi, saves you from hitting bottom, sacrificing himself so you don’t give up. Becoming the light that shone in your darkness. He is the sun that faces your night, and you are the Moon, eternally distant from him.

He grabbed your hand and dragged you away, taking you to his village, a place of healing and hope where he will try to make you love life again, showing you the light you had long lost. Starting a journey of healing, to fight against your demons that tormented you relentlessly, to finally find happiness where you would never have bothered to find it.

Two fates crossed under the tacit protection of the Great Mother, to show that even two opposites can create something perfectly chaotic.

And what happens when night and day dance together, to the rhythm of the stars and waves of balance, eternal opposites that are inevitably attracted?

This is the story of how death falls in love with life; how the sun one day decided to save the moon and how darkness is not so dark if light can penetrate. But also a story of suffering and torment, where not everything is roses and flowers.

CHAPTER WARNING: Mention suicide and attempted suicide.

Lenght : 4k

NA'VI WORDS: Yawne: Beloved; Tanhì: Bioluminescent freckles; Tspangoe: I invented this, it means "Suicidal". It comes from "Tspang": Kill and "Oe": I/Me. I couldn’t find a word that came close, so I made it up.

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

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Chapter I: The Fall

In the heart of the dense forest, wrapped in a blanket of skeletal trees seemed to dangle for you as silent witnesses of a long time ago. The icy wind hissed among the thick branches, bringing with it a suffocated lament, as if nature itself was crying an irreparable loss. It was a place of tormented beauty, a refuge for your restless soul, where nature itself seemed to express its pain in silence. In the melancholy yet fascinating atmosphere, the waterfall stood as a symbol of battered hope, offering a fleeting comfort to spirits like you in search of consolation. It was in this desolation of yours that the waterfall was heard. Not a joyful or luxuriant sound, but a sore groan hovering in the air. The incessant flow of water was a constant sound that pervaded the atmosphere, offering a grim melody among its tumultuous waves, as if it carried with it the weight of your hidden pains. Its waters rushed from the cliff with an unstoppable force, forming a veil of water that dispersed in a light fog. The reflections of the suns sprinkled silvery sparks in the air, creating an ephemeral rainbow between the shimmering silver drops.

As the dying rays of the suns seeped through the fronds of the trees, tinging the landscape with a purple light, you sat on the edge of the majestic waterfall, your feet dangling above the cliff. An aura of sadness was reflected in your gaze, an invisible weight that seemed to have borne too much for your young age.

The rustle of the branches danced among the trees, accompanied by an orchestra of voices hidden among the trees. The howls of the waking nocturnal animals, the chirping of the birds mingling with the croaking of the crows and screeching of the Ikrans who dared peer into the oncoming darkness. The rustle of the leaves, moved by an invisible wind, creates a constant background that amplifies the mysterious aura. The scents of the forest mixed in the air, with the smell of moss, damp earth and wildless flowers.

You sat in silence, with your eyes fixed between the abyss below and the eclipse that colored your face with warm shades, with your heart broken and your soul in pieces. The weight of pain and despair was felt in every fiber of your being, as the pounding sound of water flowing downwards amplified the preparatory atmosphere that had been created around you by you. You were able to welcome the beauty of the majestic trees that stood on the horizon, small flowers dancing free in the wind that seemed to evoke happy and serene memories, creating a poignant contrast with your suffering.

You squinted as you took a deep breath. Hands flickering as you began to undress each piece of jewelry that represented your status and your belonging, removing piece by piece, gently laying them on the ground. You caressed them as you remember they surfaced in your mind with pain, remembering your story and the events you had experienced to get every single cherished jewel that now lay on the ground. You separated with pain, not wanting to dirty the precious memories and the sacredness of each bead with your gesture. It was as if I wanted to get rid of everything that made you, "you", looking for a way to atone for the pain.

While contemplating the last lights of the day, you quietly hum your songcord, creating a sad lament, before separating it forever, tying it to a thread of faded era that would be the final 'bead'.

"Oh Great Mother, forgive me… but my battle is over… I can’t stand this anymore" praying that the Great Mother would forgive you and welcome you into her warm arms.

Loneliness. You felt alone in that forest, as the cold, wet wind collided with your warm skin, as if Eywa was saying to you, "You are heard, child. Step back forward, because your life is not complete". When you felt pretty confident about the blessing that the Great Mother was telling you, a rustle behind you made your ears stand up but you didn’t turn, anyone or whatever it was you didn’t care, because it could never hurt you more than you were about to.Neteyam walked through the forest as he returned to his village with some venison he had just finished hunting, only to be distracted by a lament from where he knew the waterfall was. The sound of flowing water guides him in the right direction and suddenly he sees your lonely figure on the edge of the precipice. A sense of anguish pervaded him when he realized your tragic intentions, noting the jewels placed on the ground.

He carefully removed the bow and arrows from his back, laying them on the ground with the venison and then slowly approaching, but with determination to do everything possible to save you. He sat next to you, looking at the horizon, respecting the personal space you needed but conveying a sense of closeness. Your eyes met his figure, not understanding why a stranger would sit beside you at a time like this. He opened his mouth suddenly, taking a long breath.

"See those two birds right there" The boy’s words were soft and reassuring, trying to break the wall you were building to separate yourself from the world before performing the act we express. "hmhm" you mumbled in response, watching the birds dancing one last time in the purple sky. "Eywa takes care of them every day… If the Great Mother takes care of them, imagine how she takes care of us who are more fragile" you lowered your gaze to the river below, reflecting the words that the mysterious Na'vi was giving you. "The Great Mother knows your needs, look for her now…" he whispered, reassuring you as his words mingled with the melody of the falling water, turning his face towards yours.

"Maybe it’s because it’s what I want." You hissed and then looked him in the eye. Your face was tired, just like your eyes, sad, dull and devoid of spirit, bringing with them a deep sense of total abandonment. The eyes of someone who has gone through immeasurable pain and who has lost all hope of finding a way out of suffering. The irises, once full of life and lively, are now devoid of any spark of emotion. They are an abyss in which all joy and happiness is drowned. There is no more light shining through them, only a dark and impenetrable desolation. Heavy, drooping eyelids tell the story of a tired, exhausted soul. They seemed ready to give in under the unbearable weight. There is no life, there is no light, only deep apathy. One can see the total lack of interest in everything around them, as if I had become a stranger to the world.

Your gaze aroused a sense of compassion in Neteyam. It almost seemed like a call to extend his hand to offer you support, because behind that desolation, there was still a soul struggling feebly to keep going.

"It’s not what you want, it’s what you think you want. I don’t know you, but I know you mean something to someone, and I know that someone would suffer for it. Do it for them… live for them, please." His eyes were light, hope, life. His kind and comforting words that for a second you thought he was even the Great Mother herself. Slowly, patiently and gently, Neteyam tried to open a breach in the armor you were wearing, hoping to make you desist.

"Why live for someone if I don’t even want to live for myself? Just…Go away." You answered with bitterness while you carried again the look under you, contemplating the abyss and the peace that you would have tried. You just didn’t want to feel this way anymore, to be free. "I have no one. I mean nothing to anyone. Whether I disappear or not no one will cry for me. You don’t know who I am, so I won’t be a burden to you… Please-" your voice broke at that moment, as two tears cut your face. "Just let me do this…"

Neteyam looked at you, silently swallowing, realizing your pain, doing it as he watched you fall apart in front of him. He had never seen a Na'vi attempt suicide, and the lost look in your eyes frightened him. <; Nobody?… She has no one > this was what rang in his mind as he searched for the right words.

"You have Eywa… The Great Mother loves all her children and I know she doesn’t want to take you right now… You are not alone and she will not allow you to be alone, if so." He reached out his hand towards you. " Take my hand, please" his voice died in his throat, his hopeful gaze waiting for you to change your mind.

Your vulnerability was exposed, for the defenses you built were shaken by his words. Maybe for the first time in a long time, you felt comforted, even for a moment. Your heart was lighter in a moment of suspension. You still felt a thin veil of fear to do that act, but relief and warmth, anger to be alone. You decided to leave the precipice, not only physically, but also mentally and emotionally, while a faint flame of hope began to burn in you. Too bad it wasn’t the right flame.

You looked at his outstretched hand, making your amber eyes so different for the last time. Its full of life and yours turned off, the sun and the moon looking at each other, life and death meeting. You pulled up with your nose as one last tear tore through your face for the last time. One last breath and swallowed. "I can’t… I can’t be saved" The bitterness in your voice destabilized Neteyam, only to leave him wide-eyed when you dropped to the side, following the waterfall water.

"No!" He screamed as his arms instinctively extended towards you, desperately trying to grab your freefalling body, but all he could touch was the void. The air passed through his fingers and hands, as if it were an insurmountable force that prevented him from reaching you.

At that moment, he felt a feeling of helplessness and frustration that crept into his soul, leaving a sense of guilt and remorse. Every muscle in his body screams for failing to save your life. As you disappeared from his sight, Neteyam was overwhelmed by an emotional storm. Everything around him seemed to slow down. The sounds faded and the reality turned away, as if he were in a nightmare from which he could not wake up. His body trembles in front of the immensity of the situation. Managing to react to a delayed burst.

You had found peace by falling, a harmony that you had not felt for a long time, as if you had discovered the secret to facing that darkness that had reached its climax in you. The scars of the battle opened slightly, turning into signs of courage. The cold air and drops of water gently caressed your exhausted body, bringing with it the pungent smell of freedom. Your eyes, which had wept far too many tears, were now closed and full of serenity, knowing that you would escape from that hell.

Gravity pulled you down with the same unstoppable force with which water fell from the waterfall. But there was no fear in your heart, only the realization that the fall was an inevitable conclusion of everything you had experienced, the point that would make you start over. You felt at peace, finally free to leave everything behind you tormented. In the fall, your face relaxed and a smile crossed your face. Not a smile of unbridled joy, but rather a kind of resignation and contentment. It was as if you knew that even in the darkness of the fall, your spirit could finally shine. The water wrapped you in a warm embrace, giving you that sense of comfort before the impact, washing away your melancholy, leaving you free from the weight, happy.

Neteyam didn’t hesitate an extra second to follow you, taking the right precautions before the launch so that he wouldn’t faint from impact, jumping as he quickly spotted where your body might end up once in the water.

Your unarmed body descended below the surface without too much hesitation, blocking you down because of the strong currents. You were unconscious right after the impact, but in your mind you were just waiting to be taken away by the Great Mother’s hand, leaving your body aching.

Neteyam immediately after the impact with the water sought you with panic in the eyes, swimming with open eyes to look for your body, hoping to find you in time before the current took you away and marked your end. After a few minutes he found you and had to fight against the violent currents and your body heavier because of the water to lift you and carry you up, while the seconds passed and his lungs screamed to breathe, trying to stay lucid for you. He managed to drag you out of the water with difficulty, gently laying you on the shore, while he watered the air he needed, begging the Great Mother not to take you, while he placed you back on the grass, by slightly tilting your head back and lifting your chin to open the airways. His hands began to tremble when he placed them in the center of your chest, just above the breastbone, comprehending the chest with the rhythm that his father had taught him to do. He alternated compressions with mouth-to-mouth ventilation. "Oh Great Mother, no... please… please, Great Mother" he whispered as he proceeded with the cpr, pulling a breath of relief when you started spitting water spasmodically, grateful that at least your body was reacting to stay alive.

"Stay with me, please. Stay with me, stay with me…" he said desperately as he called his Ikran. When the banshee arrived, he took the shawl that he used when riding and it was cold, covering your shaky and wet body, not thinking that he too would get cold because of the speed with which he would ride to take you to his village as soon as possible. He held you in his arms, making you lay your face on his chest as he held you from his waist with one arm, leaving promptly. Your tanhì were barely visible, and this made him worry to say the least, he did not know you but he wanted to save you, he had to do it. He felt he had to save your life, give you a second chance to try to be happy and at peace, for fighting your demons.

When he arrived at the village, he rushed into the marui of Tsahìk, easily making his way among the na'vi of the clan. When he found his grandmother, he looked at her pleadingly and panicked, leaving you lying on the carpet that Tsahìk used as a bed for patients.

"What happened to this girl?" she asked as she inspected your body, trying to figure out where to start treating you. Neteyam looked at her swallowing as he breathed fast and passed his hands between the braids.

"She… she fell. She drank a lot of water, ther because… s-she. she fainted, she fell from the waterfall…and I-" He tried to explain as he went off the deep end and Mo'at nodded, then invited him out while she undressed you for more room to work.

Neteyam shivered because of the still wet body and the wind hitting his blue skin, while he was still in shock about what he had seen, not expecting you to really jump. He began to walk nervously out of the healing hut, worried about you and your health, while his nerves drove him around in despair.

After about an hour Mo'at came out of the marui, wrapping his nephew in a warm blanket, worried that he too would get sick.

"She’s gonna be okay, right? She’s okay? She-" asked anxiously as his palms wrapped around his grandmother’s elbows, praying that you were well and that she had managed to save you. Mo'at’s eyes lowered slightly and then sighed, realizing Neteyam’s concern, though not understanding why he was so worried about a stranger.

"She… will survive" she replied, not giving a clear answer, though that 'will survive' gave Neteyam enormous relief, thanking Eywa for allowing him to save you. "but she can’t wake up yet. She’s lost a lot of blood inside of her, and she hit her head, pressure knocked her unconscious on impact. She’s lucky she didn’t break bones or ruin her organs…" She continued and then noticed a slight tension in Neteyam, always remaining happy that you were well despite that problem.

"You said she’ll be fine, so she’ll be fine" he said, convincing himself more than his grandmother, who looked at him sighing.

"I feel that her spirit does not want to stay here… she is… tspangoe?" Mo'at’s voice became darker as she asked, waiting for the reply of her nephew who soon arrived when he let her go and looked away.

"She is a Na'vi. Like you and me. Nothing else" He said seriously, growling slightly as he avoided answering the question, as if he was annoyed that his grandmother had just labeled you that way. He squeezed into the blanket and left, leaving his grandmother alone after thanking her for helping you.

The days began to flow while you gave no sign of waking up. Neteyam would stay in the tent for hours, visiting you at least twice a day, making sure you were properly washed and fed, feeding you himself when Mo'at gave it to him. He allowed himself several times to observe your face, noticing how your tanhì were almost extinguished and your feeble breaths, your body still had small wounds and bruises caused by the water and the rough stones you had met underwater. He hoped to see your eyes, even though he knew you would curse the fact that he saved you, but he knew that a tiny little part of you, well hidden, wished to be saved.

"A girl so young that she tries to take her own life… that’s a shame," Mo'at said as she entered her marui, making room behind his nephew to take some herbs to grind and use on your body. Neteyam sighed heavily and then looked at his grandmother.

"Grandmother, I beg you, stop it. You don’t even know her reasons." he said, looking at what she was grinding in the bowl made of smooth rock.

In the Na'vi culture, suicide was considered one of the greatest sins and completely harmful to one’s spiritual journey, as for them life is a precious gift of Eywa, and only she had the right to determine when to end. The Great Mother was a benevolent deity, who loved her children unconditionally, longing for their good and loving them so much that they reincarnated their pure soul cyclically. Take your own life was considered an insult to this blessing, ruining the purity of your soul, risking not being able to return to a new life. So your gesture led you to be looked down on by the spiritual leader of the Omatikaya clan, not understanding why a Na'vi should take her own life and disrespect life in this way.

"The tspangoe" began her, only to be interrupted by Neteyam "Don’t call her like that." She cleared her voice and then started talking again. "she cannot have 'reasons' to do such a thing. The Great Mother has given us life, who are we to throw it away like garbage?" her tone was bittersweet while she was grinding herbs with some natural liquids, not looking at her nephew.

"Nine eclipses have passed by now, and she sleeps. If she doesn’t want to wake up, she can just let go. She’s tried that before, hasn’t she? So why not just leave? In this way, perhaps, my partner will return to give attention to me and not to an Tspangoe" The sour voice of a woman made her way as she made her entrance, watching Neteyam and Mo'at.

"Tsu'län, please don’t start." Neteyam replied harshly as he sighed, looking at the Tsakarem of the clan.

"Nine eclipses, ma yawne. Nine eclipses that spend more time with this Tspangoe and not with your future mate. It is not normal, it is not healthy for our relationship or for the image we will give to the clan." She hissed, only to make Neteyam growl and look into her eyes with annoyance.

"Ma Tsu'län, you should be happy that your partner is a man who worries, as much as I don’t even like him being with her." Mo'at spoke, then sighed, feeling the tension between her nephew and his promise.

"Not an eclipse more. Any woman would be angry about this, especially if her partner is the future Olo'eyktan and prefers to be with a Tspangoe. It’s humiliating." Shee snorted at him, being ignored by Neteyam who was too respectful of the opposite sex to respond to her as he wished.

He looked at your face, noticing how your Tanhì were slowly coming to life, smiling spontaneously as Tsu'län’s voice went deaf before disappearing.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Notes II:

Theoretically I should have started "Starboy" series because it’s more summer and """soft""", but I’ve been thinking for days about scenarios for this series and so I decided to bring this first.

I know that this is quite a demanding series but I would like to talk about these delicate but necessary yhemes. I don’t know how many chapters it will have, but I know it’s potentially going to be my trojan horse, because I’m inspired.

I swear it won’t just be Angst, there will also be a good part of Smut and Fluff, and I will forward them in a way that in my mind is spectacular. I hope you enjoyed reading <3

-Mel

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TAG LIST : @riatesullironalite @shadowmoonlight0604

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blueteller · 11 months

Text

So, I discovered the "random incorrect quotes generator" and had some fun with it. Here you go 😂

Alberu: So. Choi Han and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us Cale: *sighs* …What did Choi Han do? Alberu: He chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and… Choi Han: *smiles innocently* Do you need a steering wheel, Cale-nim?

Cale: We need to get through this locked door. Bud, give me your money Bud: …Ok, here? Cale: *pockets it* Thanks. Choi Han, kick down the door Bud: …

Eruhaben: While I'm gone - Raon, you're in charge. Raon: Yes!!! Eruhaben: *whispers* On, you're the one actually in charge. On: *whispers back* Obviously.

Basen: Where's Lily? She isn't answering Violan: I'll call Basen: Father and I have both tried six times ea- Violan: Lily! Lily: *in distance* Yes?

Cale: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'? Choi Han: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated- Raon: Smad! Cale & Choi Han: … (How can he be so cute)

Tasha: Alberu, tell Mary about the birds and the bees Mary: *stares silently* Alberu: *sweats* Alberu: …They're disappearing at an alarming rate

Cale: What doesn't kill me should run, because now I'm f***ing pissed Gods: *shiver* (Why do I hear boss music-?)

On: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life Raon: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind? On: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die. Hong: …edible! Cale: *shivers in the distance*

Cale: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 billion gallons? Choi Han: *thinks carefully* If you stabbed me, you could just heal me with a potion, and then we could buy another big-a** villa somewhere Clopeh: *enthusiastic* You could stab me too, and then you'd have 20 billion! Choi Han: *pulls out his sword with a smile* …Good thinking

*Archie and Paseton sitting in jail together* Paseton: So, who should we call for help? Archie: …I'd call Cale, but I think I feel safer in jail

Rasheel: *sarcastic* How petty can you get? Mila: *smiling* I once edited historical documents to win an argument I was wrong about Rasheel: *scared* What the f-

Alberu: ...You know those things will kill you, right? Eruhaben: *pouring himself a glass of vodka* That's the point. Choi Han: *smoking 10 cigarettes at once* We're trying to speed up the process. Cale: *nods while eating raw cookie dough*

Witira: You have to apologize to Paseton Archie: …Fine. Archie: 'Unf*** you', or whatever

Cale: Looking left cause you don't treat me right Choi Han: Looking right because you left Raon: Looking up cause you let me down Alberu: Looking down cause you f***ed up White Star: *bleeding from having his arm ripped off* …What is wrong with you guys??

Alberu: *walks into his bedroom* …Hello, people who do not live here. Cale: Hey. Choi Han: Hello. Raon: Hi cookie prince! Hong: *chewing* Alberu: You know I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only, right? On: *shrugs* We were out of cookies

Cale: I've come to a point in my life where I need a stronger word than 'f***' Raon: Human, you poopy dumbo!! Cale: … Cale: …that works, I guess

Alberu: Instructor-nim, why do you always wear black? Choi Han: So that when someone points at your black clothes and asks whose funeral it is, having a look around the room and saying 'Haven't decided yet' is a valid response. Alberu: *thoughtfully* Hm. I should try that at the next nobles meeting

Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Eruhaben* Eruhaben: *hairflips* Fool, are you blind? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived. Also, if you could drag comb through that hair you would be a 7 at most, everyone knows I'm a constant 10-

Raon: Human, you'll have a hard time believing this because it never happens - but it seems I made a mistake! Cale: *sighs* ...What did you do this time?

Deruth: You see, children, nothing in life is free- Lily: Love is free! Basen: Knowledge is free Violan: Artistic inspiration is free Cale: *smirks* Everything is free if you simply loot it

White Star: I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Sheritt: I'm guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should've taken away. White Star: Death isn't real, and I'm basically God.

(Cage remix) Cage: *drinking* I learned some very valuable lessons from this. Taylor: ...I'm guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should've taken away? Cage: Death isn't real, and neither is God God of Death: *sobbing in the distance*

Deruth: Cale… just how many kids do you have? Cale: …Biologically, emotionally, or legally? Deruth: 0_0

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count’s family #humor #tcf humor #incorrect quotes #incorrect tcf #crack #tcf crack

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forsakensnakeskin · 1 year

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Azazel

The name Azazel only occurs one time in all of the canonical Bible, in Leviticus 16:8-10. As the Catholic Encyclopedia records, this passage explains the ceremony that the Jewish people should perform as part of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.

As a personification of evil, the Jewish Encyclopedia refers to Azazel as "in some degree a preparation" for the idea of Satan. The figure of Azazel is likely pre-Israelite in origin and is probably closely tied to a communal fear for the mountainous desert region that he came to personify.

According to the Nahmanides the scapegoat rite is a symbolic expression of the idea that the people's sins and their evil consequences were to be sent back to the spirit of desolation and ruin, the source of all impurity.

1 Enoch portrays Azazel as responsible for teaching people to make weapons and cosmetics, for which he was cast out of heaven.

In the extra-canonical text the Apocalypse of Abraham (c.1st CE), Azazel appears as an unclean bird who came down upon the sacrifice which Abraham prepared. (This is in reference to Genesis 15:11: "Birds of prey came down on the carcasses, but Abram drove them away" [NIV]).

In the Apocalypse of Abraham, Azazel is described with his own Kavod (Magnificence), a term usually used for the Divine in apocalyptic literature, already indicating the devil as anti-thesis of God, with the devil's kingdom on earth and God's kingdom in heaven. Azazel is also identified with the serpent which tempted Eve.

In De occulta philosophia (1509-1510), Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa: Scale of quaternary: Four Princes of devils in the elements: Azazel: Air

In later lore, he is fallen and is punished by having his nose pierced.

The word "scapegoat" has developed to indicate a person who is blamed and punished for the actions of others.

The illustration depicts him with horns, a pitchfork, a banner, and, of course, a goat. There's a frog on the banner. From Dictionnaire Infernal by Jacques Auguste Simon Collin de Plancy

Alternative Spellings

Hebrew: עֲזָאזֵל ʿAzāʾzēl

Arabic: عزازيل, romanized: ʿAzāzīl

Asael

Azael

Azazyel

Azzael

Epithets

The Adversary

Advisor

The Angel of Darkness

Blender of Eyeshadows

Counselor

The Crafty Adversary

The Crafty Worm

The Cunning Worm

The Fallen Archangel

Forger of Swords

Guardian of Goats

The Lawless One

The Rebel Angel

Seducer of Mankind

Identified With

The Devil

[Apocalypse of Abraham] Here there is the idea that God's heritage (the created world) is largely under the dominion of evil – i.e., it is "shared with Azazel" (Abr. 20:5), again identifying him with the devil, who was called "the prince of this world" by Jesus. (John 12:31 niv)

Gadriel and Rameel

Some of the fallen angels that are given in 1 Enoch have other names, such as Rameel ('morning of God'), who becomes Azazel, and is also called Gadriel ('wall of God') in Chapter 68. (A source is not cited for this)

Gadreel (Hebrew: גדר האל, romanized: Gader ha-el, lit. 'Wall of God') is listed as one of the chiefs of the fallen Watchers. He is said to have been responsible for deceiving Eve. Schmidt lists the name as meaning 'the helper of God.'

Iblis

In Islamic lore, Azazel or Azazeel was the name of Iblis before he disobeyed God by not bowing to humans and was sent from the Earth.

Satan

Origen ("Contra Celsum," vi. 43) identifies Azazel with Satan.

Azaz, as in Azazel, means strength, so the name Azazel can refer to 'strength of God'. But the sense in which it is used most probably means 'impudent' (showing strength towards), which results in 'arrogant to God'. This is also a key point in modern thought that Azazel is Satan. Also important in this identification is the fact that the original name Rameel, is very similar in meaning to the word Lucifer ('Morning Star') which is a common Latin name of Satan in Christianity.

Associated With

Alchemy

Antimony (use of)

Beauty

Coloring tinctures

Cosmetics

Cunning

The earthly realm

Fatherhood

Forbidden knowledge

Freedom of choice

Goats

Dye making

Herbalism

Knowledge

Magic

Marriage

Metallurgy

Metalworking

Mirror making

Occult arts

Ornamenting the body

Pleasure

Pride

Rebellion

Scapegoats

Seduction

Self preservation

Sensual experiences

Sexuality

Temptation

Warfare

Weapon making

Wisdom

Witchcraft

Attributes

Abyss, hole, pit

Air

Antimony

Banner with a frog on it

Black

Bracelets

Breastplates

Chain

Coats of mail

Cosmetics

Darkness

Desert

Dragon

Dudael, Dûdâêl (God's Kettle/Crucible/Cauldron)

Dye

Fallen/falling star

Fire

Goat, goat skulls, goat bones

Grapes, grapevine

Herbs

Jewelry

Knives

Metals

Metalsmithing tools

Mirror

Mount Azazel (Jabel Munttar) in the Judaen Desert

Nose piercing

Precious stones

Red

Rough and jagged rocks

Serpent

Shields

Swords

Unclean bird, bird of prey, carrion bird

Uninhabited places

Weapons

Wilderness

Depictions

His form is described as a dragon with "hands and feet like a man's, on his back six wings on the right and six on the left." (23:7)

Originally, Azazel was one of heaven’s angels, a gloriously beautiful man with wings on his back.

Today, like many demons, Azazel is drawn with red skin, glowing yellow eyes, and a barbed tail. He may also be found wearing goat skulls or dressed in goat bones.

He is a shape-shifter and may appear in any form, including a winged angel.

An unclean bird, bird of prey, carrion bird

#satanism #azazel #the Watchers #Grigori #luciferianism #satan #lucifer #my post #resources

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theacewithmace · 1 year

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so i saw the new Link Click PV and wanted to know if the shot of the flowers meant something; idk anything about flower symbolism so idk how accurate these are since i Googled them but thought i'd share:

"White roses are traditionally associated with marriages and new beginnings, but their quiet beauty has also made them a gesture of remembrance. Suited to reverent occasions, the white rose is a fitting way to honor a friend or loved one in recognition of a new beginning or a farewell. Their pure color conveys respect, pays homage to new starts, and expresses hope for the future. When the occasion calls for reverence a bouquet of white roses is a perfect way to say, 'I’m thinking of you.'" X

so the white roses are essentially just a respectful choice for a funeral and (assuming the funeral is for Lu Guang) to appreciate and honor him.

as for the yellow flower Cheng Xiaoshi brings, it took me a while to figure out what it was since i never touch grass, but i think it's a chrysanthemum.

in general, chrysanthemums can be "a symbol of happiness, [...] optimism, and hope." X

"In Chinese culture, the chrysanthemum relates to long life and good fortune. Therefore, people often bring these flowers to events like baby showers and birthday celebrations." X

obviously the funeral isn't meant to be celebratory, but it's clear Cheng Xiaoshi places it for Lu Guang in hopes of giving him luck and a good/long life (please let this be foreshadowing Lu Guang isn't actually dead).

there's also this:

"Abundance and Wealth – During Imperial China, chrysanthemums were only grown by the aristocrats and the nobility and were forbidden to the common people." X

which i'm pretty sure means nothing but i heard some mention how the funeral looked too expensive for Cheng Xiaoshi and Qiao Ling to afford so idk i just felt like tossing that in.

and then the last part that made me cry :’)

"Yellow chrysanthemums symbolize neglected love. In older texts, it’s described as a representation of a heart left to desolation or scorned love." X

#it's got “shiguang” in the name for a reason #one isn't complete without the other #also idk if there's any significance to roses and chrysanthemums being *together*#plus like i said this could all be wrong so yeah :P #link click #shiguang dailiren #shiguang daili ren #时光代理人 #time agents #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #spin’s bitching

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call-me-blip · 8 months

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Ethereal- Chapter 2

TFP Optimus X Reader

After Y/n and her team move further into the desert, they finally uncover just what they were searching for...but things don't always go to plan and you just never know who's around.

(plz read notes at the end of this chapter for any clarifications you may need, also, I had to split this chapter up because it would be like 10,000 words, so chapter 3 (basically chapter 2.5 i dunno what to call it yet) may be up later or tomorrow, and chapter 4 (or chapter 3, again i dunno yet ) wil be out later this week

Wordcount- 4797

Warnings- depictions of violence

In the heart of the unforgiving desert, Y/n, Eira, Ash, and Cassius pressed onward with a resolve that seemed to defy the very elements themselves. The harsh desert winds swept around them, as if nature itself sought to deter their journey. Yet, Y/n clutched the enigmatic compass tightly in her hand, its cryptic symbols and ancient Greek inscription serving as their guide through the tempestuous desert.

'ΑΝΑΖΗΤΗΣΤΕ ΤΙ ΕΙΝΑΙ ΑΥΤΟ ΠΟΥ ΕΠΙΘΥΜΕΙΤΕ ΝΑ ΕΧΕΤΕ'—

"Seek what it is that you desire to possess."

As they ventured deeper into this desolate expanse, the desert unveiled its stark and haunting beauty. The shifting sand dunes, moulded and shaped by the relentless wind, resembled an undulating sea frozen in time. Each dune's peak caught the soft moonlight, casting them in an otherworldly silver glow, as if they were waves suspended in a celestial dance.

The wind, which had carved the land with patience and persistence, had also created towering cliffs of sandstone that now stood like ancient sentinels, their intricate layers a testament to the geological history spanning countless aeons. It was as if the desert itself whispered secrets of time and change to those who dared to listen.

Amidst the starkness, the air carried a surprisingly delicate scent – the faint, sweet aroma of desert flowers. These resilient blooms, hidden within the arid landscape, provided a fragrant oasis amidst the barren expanse. The juxtaposition of this subtle, natural perfume against the harsh backdrop of the desert created an eerie but captivating atmosphere.

With each step they took, the desert revealed more of its enigmatic allure, drawing the group further into its timeless embrace.

Scaling the towering dunes as the relentless wind battered their exposed skin, Cassius couldn't help but voice his growing concerns amidst the swirling tempest. His words were nearly lost in the cacophony of nature's fury. "Did this blasted windstorm just appear outta nowhere? Are we entirely sure we're heading in the right direction?"

Eira, her red hair dancing wildly in the relentless gusts, turned to face Cassius, her expression a mix of determination and confidence. Her voice, although strained by the winds, held resolute assurance. "The compass hasn't led us astray yet, Cassius. We've come too far to turn back now."

Amidst the harsh beauty of the desert, marred only by the relentless howl of the wind, Ash, ever audacious, leaned closer to Y/n. His words, though whispered, seemed to blend seamlessly with the wind's lament, his tone teasing and flirtatious. "Y'know, Y/n, I've always loved a woman who can focus on a task. It makes her all the more beautiful in the moonlight."

Y/n, her gaze locked on the ever-important compass, responded with a hint of exasperation as she placed a finger to Ash's lips, silencing his playful banter. Her voice was firm, filled with unwavering determination. "Ash, now is not the time for compliments or distractions."

Cassius, ever the eternal optimist, couldn't resist adding his own perspective with a touch of humor. "Yeah, Ash, let's save the compliments for when we're not in the middle of a sandstorm, huh?"

As if in response to their perseverance, the desert storm gradually relinquished its relentless grip, revealing their path forward. The wind's fury abated, unveiling an otherworldly realm before them. Towering rocky cliffs, weathered by countless years of exposure to the elements, stood sentinel-like against the shifting sands. Mysterious caverns pocked the landscape, their dark openings resembling gateways to a forgotten world.

Lowering the compass, Y/n surveyed their surroundings. The cavern's entrance loomed before them like a portal to an ancient realm. She felt a profound sense of purpose, as if guided by forces beyond her understanding. The compass, seemingly attuned to Y/n's intent, swirled with a faint, ethereal light. Its needle twitched erratically before settling on a direction. Y/n noticed the needle turn slightly towards a cavern to the right, its glow intensifying for a brief moment before dissipating into the night. Her voice held a quiet but resolute assurance. "This is it, whatever beast is here is hidden in this cavern, I guess."

Ash, seemingly undaunted by the elements, grinned playfully. "Lead the way, fearless leader. I'm right behind you."

Rolling her eyes in response to his ever-present playfulness, Y/n couldn't help but smile. "Just stick close, Ash. These caverns hold mysteries we can't even begin to imagine."

With their resolve unwavering, the small group ventured deeper into the labyrinthine cliffs and caves, transitioning from the desert's fury to this ancient, rocky sanctuary. The air grew cooler, carrying an aura of the unknown, as if they'd stepped into a realm untouched by time itself.

As they delved further into the cavern's depths, the silence weighed heavily on them, each footstep echoing like a heartbeat in this ancient sanctuary. Ash, seemingly undeterred by their surroundings, couldn't resist breaking the silence. His voice, while playful, held a hint of admiration. "Y/n, your take-charge attitude..."

Y/n interrupted, her tone gently admonishing, attempting to maintain focus amidst the eerie ambiance. "Ash, please, let's concentrate on why we're here."

Cassius, the ever-logical voice of reason, agreed with a nod. "She's right, Ash. We don't know what lies ahead."

Eira, her curiosity unabated, couldn't help but chime in. Her voice held a sense of wonder. "But that's what makes this thrilling, doesn't it? The mystery of the unknown."

With each step, the cavern beckoned, its darkness concealing secrets and possibilities beyond their imagination. The group ventured deeper into the labyrinthine passages, the rocky walls seeming to close in around them. The narrow corridors led them into a profound sense of isolation, and they navigated through tight squeezes and winding tunnels, each twist and turn shrouding them further in the enigmatic embrace of the cavern's depths.

Deep within the labyrinthine passages, their exploration led them to an astonishing discovery—a vast underground chamber that seemed to exist in a world of its own. This subterranean sanctuary bathed in an eerie azure glow, and the source of this mystical illumination was a multitude of blue, bioluminescent crystals that adorned the cavern's walls. These mesmerizing gems appeared to pulse with an otherworldly energy, casting enchanting shadows that danced gracefully across the chamber's expansive walls.

The allure of these crystals was undeniable, their unnatural radiance drawing the group towards them like moths to a flame. Eira, her fiery hair dancing wildly in the eerie azure glow, couldn't help but voice her amazement at the crystals. "These gems... they're like something out of a fairy tale, ain't they?"

Cassius, the analytical thinker of the group, couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease. "But why are they glowing with such intensity? It's as if they have a purpose beyond mere aesthetics."

Ash, usually the playful one, now wore an expression tinged with caution as he eyed the radiant gems with suspicion. "I hate to be the buzzkill, but does anyone else find it strange that they're putting on this light show just for us? Something feels off."

Y/n, always attuned to her instincts, shifted her focus away from the entrancing crystals. She sensed it—the subtle shift in the shadows, a presence lurking beyond their sight. Her silver eyes scanned the chamber, and her voice carried a newfound urgency. "Listen up, everyone. We've got company, and it's not here to share the view. Keep your senses sharp."

In this surreal chamber, the group found themselves teetering on the precipice between mesmerising beauty and imminent peril, where the mystique of the crystals clashed head-on with the encroaching threat that had emerged from the shadows.

As if guided by an unspoken pact etched into their very souls, they reached for their pendants, hanging on chains around their necks, and triggered a transformation that transcended the boundaries of the physical world. In a breathtaking display of power, metal and cloth flowed and weaved across their forms, each unique set manifesting their individual patrons and the extraordinary abilities they possessed.

The stakes had never been higher, and in that pivotal moment, their existence pulsed with an unwavering determination to confront the ominous danger that loomed ever closer.

Ash couldn't hide his amazement and muttered, "Now, this is what I call an upgrade! Feels great to finally have the occasion to wear this again." He gestured towards his revamped attire with enthusiasm. His clothes had undergone a striking transformation, thick fabric woven from deep forest greens covered his form, while thick carved oak covered his chest and other vulnerable areas, such as his knees, groyne area, and forearms. Crystal-edged amethyst daggers, gleaming with an enchanting emerald sheen, were now tucked into his belt that wrapped snugly around his waist, resembling ivy clinging to his form.On his waist, a mystical flute, carved from an ancient, enchanted wood, hung with intricate symbols of branches and leaves etched into its surface. It resonated with the very soul of nature, allowing Ash to summon its magic through melodious tunes. Its notes could heal, manipulate, and even mesmerise, making it a versatile tool in his quest to protect and nurture the natural world. An intricately carved wooden headpiece obscured his face, while the top split into two curved peaks resembling ram horns, emphasizing his connection with the untamed wilderness. Only his eyes were visible, and they now intensified in vibrancy, resembling glowing pools of a green lagoon.

Eira's attire radiated swiftness, agility, and grace. Her azure armour, reminiscent of a clear sky, bore intricate golden sigils that seemed to ripple with the fluidity of the fastest winds.

Secured gracefully at her sides were twin blades, their hilts crafted in the likeness of wings, poised to carry her with the elegance of a soaring bird. Her feet were adorned with sandals featuring delicate, wing-like extensions, paying homage to her patron deity's gift of unbridled speed and grace.A diaphanous hood, woven with the finest ethereal threads, hid her face with an alluring air. Through this silken shroud, only the cerulean glimmer of her eyes could be discerned, like twin sapphires gleaming amidst the starlit night. Her eyes had undergone a transformation, shifting from their once deep blue hue to a vibrant cerulean, mirroring the boundless skies and adding an extra layer of allure to her agile and enigmatic presence.

Cassius, the master of the forge and champion of the flames, adorned himself in an extraordinary suit of armour, a testament to his prowess as a weaponsmith and wielder of fire. His metal vest was crafted from a rare and enchanted metal known as Embersteel, which bore the fiery hues of smouldering embers and volcanic fury.The chestplate of his armour featured intricate etchings and motifs, reminiscent of the swirling patterns found within the heart of a blazing furnace. These markings told stories of his legendary craftsmanship and his mastery over the art of war.The raven haired man’s gauntlets were no ordinary pieces of hand protection; they were his weapons themselves, works of art that pulsed with inner heat. Fashioned to resemble the blazing heart of a volcano, these gauntlets allowed him to channel the fury of a forge into his strikes. Each punch carried the explosive force of a volcanic eruption.

His helmet was a masterpiece of intimidation and function. Crafted in the likeness of a fearsome blacksmith's visage, it concealed Cassius's face behind a mask of determination and strength. From within, his once brown eyes now gleamed like amber gems, reflecting the molten fires of his inner power.

Y/n stood as a formidable force, her attire a harmonious blend of shadows and moonlight. Her obsidian and silver armour bore intricate, ever-changing patterns that seemed to dance with grace. Each piece was a work of art, a testament to her mastery. This armour was more than just protection; it was a statement of her power Atop her head rested a captivating headpiece adorned with moonstones that gleamed with an ethereal light. The headpiece was veiled in the finest, darkest lace, a shroud that concealed most of her features but allowed a glimpse of her enigmatic eyes. Her gaze was a mesmerising cycle of colours, shifting between a radiant silver gleam, reminiscent of moonlight on water, and a regal, captivating purple that spoke of raw, untamed power.Behind that veil, her eyes burned with an intensity that could bewitch anyone who dared to meet her gaze. They were a window to her soul, revealing the intricate interplay of her emotions and magic. Her eyes, like the ever-changing phases of the moon, were a testament to her mastery over both herself and the mystical forces that swirled around her.

But what truly set her apart were her hands. Covered in an array of intricate, magical markings, they were tools of both creation and destruction. Her nails, once human, had transformed into long, razor-sharp, metallic claws that possessed a certain otherworldly elegance. They could cut with precision or rend flesh from bone, a testament to her mastery over both magic and the physical world. Y/n was not merely a force to be reckoned with; she was a living embodiment of otherworldly glamour and power. Her presence exuded an aura of mystique and allure, and her every movement was a mesmerising dance that left those who witnessed it spellbound.

Within the cavern's shrouded embrace, Y/n's sharp gaze cut through the encroaching darkness, dissecting every detail with unwavering resolve. An eerie magenta mist, reminiscent of the malevolent aura they'd once encountered in Greece, began to unfurl, obscuring the boundaries of their reality. In the midst of this spectral haze, the creature's predatory eyes blazed with a baleful crimson.

"MOVE" Y/n's voice, filled with urgency and unwavering authority, cut through the thickening tension like a bolt of lightning. Their survival depended on their ability to disperse, to escape the looming grasp of the ferocious beast that materialised from the shadows, now bathed in the eerie light of the cavern's glowing crystals.

Now, bathed in the eerie embrace of spectral light, the creature stood unveiled before them, the very same monster that took Olympus’ mightiest hero 30 days to defeat.. The Nemean lion, in all of its devilish and deranged spectre. Its once-golden eyes had been consumed by malevolent crimson, burning like an infernal fire at the heart of this abyssal terror.

Towering at a colossal fifteen feet, it casted a looming shadow that defied nature's laws—an embodiment of primal, unyielding might. Cloaked in obsidian resilience, its sinewy physique was adorned with fur that clung tenaciously, but now matted and tangled, a symbol of its indomitable pride succumbing to the abyss.

Wickedly sharp claws gleamed with an intent as cruel as it was deadly, orchestrating a symphony of menace and destruction with every strike. The creature, now wholly demonic and out for blood, unleashed a deafening roar, a harbinger of unrelenting violence that sent shivers through the group.

As the tremors of anxiety coursed through their veins, Y/n's voice, a lifeline amidst the encroaching pandemonium, resounded once more, "Scatter and don’t stop moving! We can't let it focus on a single target!"

With a deafening roar that shook the very foundation of the cavern, the beast unleashed its fury, swatting and pouncing at each individual with deadly precision. Panic and desperation reigned as they struggled to evade its relentless assault.

Amidst the frenzy, Ash, fueled by a mixture of fear and bravado, couldn't resist a quip. He taunted the creature with a sly grin, shouting, "Here kitty kitty!" He darted out of harm's way just in time, causing the beast to smash against the rocky walls in futile rage, as if the lion had taken personal offence to his jest.

Cassius, completely frustrated and searching for a solution, turned to Ash with a mix of exasperation and hope. "Ash, anything you can do with that flute of yours? Maybe play it a lullaby?"

Ash, with a smirk, raised the flute to his lips but seemed to hit all the wrong notes, creating a cacophony that could wake the dead. He muttered to himself, "Guess it's more of a 'wake the beast' tune." His humour shone through even in the direst of situations, as the Lion, clearly not appreciating his musical talents, roared in irritation and launched itself once more in a fury.

Amid the chaos, the Nemean Lion, now a twisted and deranged version of its former self, turned its savage gaze toward Eira. Her fiery red hair swirled like a tempest as she ascended from the ground, propelled by the divine wings on her sandals. She wielded her twin blades with skill and determination, each strike aimed at the lion's crimson eyes, but it seemed like trying to scratch an impenetrable fortress.

Frustration laced her voice as she yelled to her companions, "I can't even scratch its hide! We need a plan, fast!"

Cassius, his voice trembling with a glimmer of hope, shouted to Y/n, "Can't you do something? It's a lion, it’s one of your creatures !"

Y/n responded with a hint of exasperation, "Cassius, I've already tried. This creature was never created by Hecate. There's no reasoning with it, i’ve already tried reaching into its’ mind. It's gone through the same transformation as the other beasts in Greece. Our only options are to send it back through the archway or... well, you know."

As tensions rose on the battlefield, Y/n's frustration grew as she struggled to make Cassius understand the futility of taming this monstrous foe. But their conversation abruptly ended as the Nemean Lion, a nightmarish force of fury, hurtled menacingly toward them.

Cassius, resolute in his determination, readied a colossal fist to strike the creature's grotesque face. Yet Y/n, in an act of unparalleled heroism, shielded her raven-haired companion. Her arms thrust forward, and with a voice that echoed with primal power, she roared, "Aspida!"

The h/c haired woman’s incantation materialised in a flash, conjuring a colossal, translucent silver barrier just in the nick of time. The monstrous beast crashed into the ethereal shield, claws and teeth slashing viciously. Y/n grunted, struggling under the immense strain of the creature's relentless assault, her resolve unwavering. With a primal scream, she summoned every ounce of her strength, pushing the shield forward and forcing the beast to stagger back.

Without missing a beat, Y/n shouted another ancient incantation, "Fotia!" A torrent of scorching waves surged forth, colliding with the still-grounded lion. The creature howled and thrashed in agony as the spell seemed to momentarily disoriented it, but its formidable exterior remained unscathed.

Amidst this chaotic dance of magic and might, the group communicated with frantic urgency:

Ash, deftly evading the lion's lunges, called out to Eira, "Eira, keep trying to blind it! Target those eyes!"

Eira, a blur of divine swiftness, replied, "I'm giving it all I've got, Ash, but it's like striking stone!"

Cassius, his fiery aura blazing brightly, urgently declared, "We're running out of time! Y/n, any ideas?"

Y/n, beads of sweat forming on her brow as she upheld the shield and continued the onslaught, grunted in response, "We need to find a way to weaken it further! Keep hitting it with everything you've got!"

As Ash, Eira, and Cassius synchronized their attacks in a desperate bid against the Nemean Lion, the cavern echoed with the symphony of divine power clashing with malevolence. Their concerted effort was a dazzling display of unity and determination.

Yet, the beast was far from docile. With a thunderous roar, it unleashed a shockwave of sheer force, sending them tumbling through the air like leaves in a tempest. Ash, Eira, and Cassius rolled with the impact, their onslaught disrupted but their spirits undeterred. They quickly regained their footing, poised to re engage in the relentless fray.

Amidst the swirling chaos, Y/n's voice cut through the tumult, now laden with newfound determination. "I've got a plan! Just keep that monster occupied!"

—--------------------------------

As Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead cautiously approached the cavern's mouth, they found themselves thrust into a nightmarish symphony of chaos. The air reverberated with desperate shouts and screams, blending with the ominous clash of weaponry and the thunderous roars that echoed from within. Flickering lights danced ominously at the entrance, casting eerie, pulsating shadows that seemed to whisper malevolent intent. There was no denying it; this wasn't a mere anomaly or sensor glitch. Something extraordinary—and perilous—was unfolding in the depths.

Yet, it wasn't just the chaotic sounds that piqued Arcee's interest. As a seasoned scout and an expert in reconnaissance, she activated her field scanner, delving deeper into the cavern's enigmatic heart. The readings on her heads-up display (HUD) unveiled a startling revelation - it wasn't merely four unusual life signatures, but five, and each emitted an escalating surge of power.

Amidst the frenetic scene within the cavern, Bulkhead couldn't resist a quip, "Well, sounds like a real party in there."

Bumblebee, his agreeable nature conveyed through a series of beeps and whirls, joined in the jest.

However, Arcee's keen sensors perceived something beyond the cacophony. Her sharp optics scrutinized the cavern's interior, revealing more than she had initially expected. She interjected, her voice tinged with uncertainty, "Hold on, guys. It's not just four life signatures in there anymore. There are five. Something's amiss."

The revelation sent a ripple of intrigue and unease through their com-link conversation. Optimus Prime, their steadfast leader, issued a directive. "Arcee, we must gain a clear understanding of what's transpiring inside that cavern. I'll groundbridge myself to your coordinates. We cannot disregard the potential threat lurking within."

Ratchet, the ever-cautious medic, expressed his reservations, "My designated duties are with the humans, Optimus. But if this situation escalates—"

Optimus raised his servo in a gesture of understanding, interjecting as a look of mutual understanding passed between them, "I comprehend your concerns, Ratchet. However, with an imminent threat looming, it's prudent to have you on standby for a swift extraction, in case we find ourselves caught in a crossfire and need to remove ourselves."

Ratchet hummed in understanding and nodded, his attention returning to the mass of data displayed on his screen. He mused aloud, "These readings are unlike anything I've ever seen."

Meanwhile, not far from the two towering mechanical giants, Miko squirmed with anticipation on her seat on the couch. A mischievous grin overtook her features as she protested her exclusion, never one to shy away from excitement. "I want to go!"

Raf and Jack, acting as the voices of reason, attempted to convince her otherwise. "Miko, we don't know what's happening in there. It could be too dangerous."

But Miko, driven by curiosity and an unquenchable thirst for adventure, remained undeterred. "I want to see what kind of battle this is."

As Arcee prepared to acknowledge Optimus's plan, a sudden shift in the cavern's shadows caught her attention. Before she could react, a powerful beast launched itself at her, colliding with force and sending her crashing to the ground. Ferocious snarls punctuated by biting and clawing attacks resounded against her sleek metal frame.

Bumblebee and Bulkhead, alarmed and determined, shouted her name through the com-link as they rushed to confront the lion-like creature. Their voices echoed with urgency, "Arcee!"

Optimus and Ratchet, their concern palpable, called out in tandem as the com-link abruptly cut off, leaving them in a tense and anxious silence. The last sounds they heard were a series of grunts and growls.

Amidst the desert, Bulkhead and Bumblebee sprang into action, their towering frames moving with unwavering determination as they advanced on the relentless beast. The cavern's depths were aglow with the dazzling bursts of energy from Bulkhead's gauntlets and the electrifying brilliance of Bumblebee's stingers. With every discharge, the rocky walls bore witness to the ferocity of their assault.

"Ratchet, ready the groundbridge, NOW!" The command came from the red and blue mech, urgency lacing his voice.

Yet, the beast, in the face of this unrelenting onslaught, exhibited an unyielding resolve. With primal instinct, it lunged ferociously towards Bumblebee, its jaws snapping with malevolent intent. But just as it was about to strike, the cavern echoed with a chorus of determined footfalls, a rhythmic cadence of determination. Accompanied by the reverberation of these steps was a commanding voice, rich and resonant, speaking in a language foreign to all those present. "FOTIA!" she declared, her voice carrying an otherworldly authority that seemed to shape the very air.

In the blink of an eye, the cave's abyss responded to her summons. From the heart of darkness, an eruption of searing waves surged forth—a radiant tempest of energy. The sheer force of this celestial onslaught struck the beast with the weight of an ancient god's fury, propelling it backward, a pitiful creature flung nearly a hundred feet through the cavern's depths. The roars of agony and frustration reverberated, and the menacing aura that once enveloped it was momentarily quelled.

Recovering from her collision with the creature, Arcee regained her footing, joining Bulkhead and Bumblebee in taking a resolute stance. Their collective attention shifted from the now-retreating adversary to the cavern's entrance. Emerging from the depths of darkness, four enigmatic figures came into view. These mysterious beings were adorned in suits of armor that defied conventional understanding—an intricate blend of ancient aesthetics. With weapons held poised for action, they exude an air of solemnity and readiness.

As Ash and Y/n emerged from the cavern, their eyes beheld a sight that defied belief. Ash, his curiosity reaching its zenith, couldn't resist quipping, "So your brilliant plan was to just drag this monster's ass outside, huh?"

Y/n responded with a hint of amusement, "Well, the roof was about to come down on us. What did you expect us to do, become cave pancakes?"

However, as they scanned the surrounding desert landscape, their gazes were drawn to an even more bewildering spectacle. Ash, unable to contain his intrigue, directed his inquiry to the mysterious mechanical beings whose blue optics regarded them with equal inquisitiveness. "Well, hello there. But what in the heck are you guys?"

The Autobots, their towering forms glistening like titans amidst the desert heat, instinctively readied their formidable weaponry. Suspicion lingered in their narrowed optics. The figure shrouded in black and silver armour, the apparent leader, raised a commanding hand, and her voice, firm and unwavering, bore an air of unquestionable authority that compelled even the Autobots to momentarily hesitate.

"Stand down," she ordered, her tone unyielding. "Our business is not with you."

With a cautious glance toward the towering Autobots, she refocused her attention on the beast, which, despite being back on all fours, still appeared dazed from the previous onslaught. Wasting no time, Y/n quietly muttered another incantation under her breath, weaving a spell that would link her mind with those of her companions standing alongside her.

"Syndesmos..."

As the spell took hold, she felt a unique connection forming between herself and the four others by her side. With haste, she conveyed her thoughts, ensuring that the towering mechanical beings wouldn't overhear her intentions.

"Listen closely," she transmitted through the shared mental space. "We confront this creature right here and now. We won't abandon our mission just because an unexpected variable has entered the equation. However, those colossal beings seem to possess consciousness and souls—I think. They're not just remote-controlled machines. Be cautious with our real names; we know nothing about their affiliations or motives."

A chorus of agreements resonated within the mental link, underscoring their collective determination. With that, Y/n severed the connection by invoking another spell.

"Aposyndeo..."

As the ethereal connection dissolved, the beast, now recovering its wits, crouched once more on all fours. Y/n prepared to cast another ethereal barrier, her strategy leaning heavily on harnessing her team's supernatural powers rather than relying solely on conventional weaponry. Just as she was about to recite the incantation, a dramatic turn of events unfolded.

A swirling vortex of radiant light and verdant energy erupted amidst the desert's darkness. Through this luminous portal emerged a colossal, blue and red semi-truck, hurtling forth with unstoppable force. In a thunderous collision, it struck the beast, sending the massive creature into a chaotic tumble.

Y/n's eyes widened in sheer disbelief at this unforeseen intervention. Beside her, Ash, with his characteristic audacity, couldn't resist commenting on the extraordinary spectacle. "Well, I'll be damned. That's something you don't witness every day."

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Hi hello! please like this and follow for more upfates but just for clarification about y/ns spells and what they meand and a side note

I will NOT be stcking closely to ancient greek mythology, it will be tweaked here and there to serve the purpose of this story, also all incantations and "ancient greek" are highly butchered but i did what i could.

some carification on y/ns spells in this chapter

Aspida- a spell that y/n is able to cast that forms a protective barrier, made of suurounding light, she can accomidate for any size and when use effectvley, can also be used as a battering ram.

Fotia- a spell that summons fire and is launched at high speeds, and almost never missess

Syndesmos- a spell that is able to connect and speak into the minds of people without using verbal communication

Aposyndeo- a spell that breaks the syndesmos enchantment

Anyways i will try and get this next chapter up as soon as i can, love you all and the big man and you will meet in the next chapter... as well as introductions. FINALLY.

Love, Blip x

#optimus x reader #tfp #transformers #transformers prime #optimus prime x reader #optimus prime x you #fanfic #this is a greek travesty #bumblebee #tfp arcee #bulkhead #tfp ratchet #transformers x reader #transformers x y/n #optimus x y/n

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serpentoflolth · 7 months

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It may be my hyperfixation or that I'm super normal when it comes to Elden Ring, but when I think of Fia I think of the ballad La Belle Dame sans Merci by the English poet John Keats. Briefly, the ballad tells of the encounter between an unnamed knight, found in a barren and desolate landscape, and a mysterious "wild-eyed" woman, who she claims to be the "daughter of a fairy". The knight makes her mount his horse and she leads him to the "Cave of the Elves", where she "sheds tears and sighs of deep pain". Falling asleep, the knight has a vision of princes and kings, who shout to him that "the beautiful lady without mercy" has subjected them, making them her slaves. Waking up, he finds himself on the same icy slope, where he continues to wait.

I'm not saying Fia is the same as La Dame sans Merci, but rather a slight reference, at least for me every time I have an interaction with her, every time she embraces me. After all, as soon as she kills D and manages to obtain the Cursemark, she leaves, giving a precise message for the Roundtable Hold. I think it's clear that it's my personal vision and my personal feeling regarding this character.

However, Fia, in going away, doesn't she perhaps leave us in a desolate land? But, perhaps, rather than abandoning us, the umpteenth Tarnished on duty who confides our secrets to her, doesn't she leave a famous sorcerer named Rogier, who saw in her a form of comfort, especially after the Death Blight suffused his body? (Yes, I should change the subject, but I can't help but think about him). Fia's quest goes on even without Rogi dying, I did a test: I just went to Altus Plateau and, returning to the Rountgable Hold. she gave me the dagger, which I delivered to D. However, I connected the nameless knight to Rogier while she's La Belle Dame sans Merci, also with regard to a small detail within the ballad: the knight is associated with a lily, a symbol of death in Western culture, pale and elusive, destined to remain on the slope and wither. Doesn't this detail remind you of someone in particular, forced to stand on a balcony withering away, waiting for death to claim him?

A direct reading of this ballad suggests that he was ensnared by the Belle Dame, such as the storylines of Thomas the Rhymer or Tam Lin. Also, since knights are usually sworn to a vow of chastity, the poem could perhaps imply that he is compromised (and bewitched) as he hesitates and lingers with an ethereal creature. I don't think Rogier was trapped or bewitched, but rather seduced, pushed by the woman, who presses him to her chest, to reveal details that only he could know, like confiding to her that Darian has the Cursemark, something he does before he hides on the balcony, unable to move. Deep down, both yearn for the same thing, yet Fia wants to act according to her own plans, well worked out together with her adoptive father Lionel the Lionhearted. Rogier is not contemplated in them, only Darian and the Cursemark, which, in my opinion, is a detail that the Hunter of the Dead reveals to the sorcerer when he sees him at the Roundtable Hold, or when he finds him sitting on the balcony (a detail that can be understood both from the dialogues of D and from those of Rogier).

#elden ring #fia the deathbed companion #fia #sorcerer rogier #rogier #d hunter of the dead #justmytheory #rogier the sorcerer #rogier the spellblade #d elden ring #fromsoft #soulsborne

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hebrewbyinbal · 3 months

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A post shared by Hebrew by Inbal 🇮🇱 Tailored To English Speakers (@hebrewbyinbal)

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Foxes, with their cunning and charming characteristics, have long fascinated cultures around the world, including Israel, where they hold a special place in both the natural landscape and cultural storytelling.

Foxes symbolize a myriad of meanings that intertwine with the nation's rich tapestry of history, nature, and lore.

In the landscapes of Israel, from the northern hills to the southern deserts, foxes roam freely, embodying the spirit of survival and adaptability. Often seen at dusk or dawn, foxes remind us of the delicate balance between urban life and the wild, mirroring Israel's own blend of ancient traditions and modern innovations.

Foxes represent the playful, mischievous, and intelligent aspects of a relationship. Just as they navigate the complexities of their environment with grace and wit, love requires a similar nimbleness and wisdom. Relationships often flourish on the foundation of mutual respect, understanding, and the ability to navigate life's challenges together—qualities that foxes demonstrate in their daily lives.

Foxes also have their place in biblical and traditional Hebrew texts, symbolizing the desolation of once-great cities but also the hope for their future restoration. This duality mirrors the nature of love—its ability to endure through times of hardship and to emerge stronger, more resilient.

In modern times, the fox, with its cunning and beauty, captures the imagination of lovers and dreamers alike. It serves as a metaphor for the journey of love—a journey requiring patience, intelligence, and a playful spirit to overcome obstacles and thrive.

#fox #foxes #cute animals #hebrew #learnhebrew #language #hebrew langblr #israel #jumblr #language learning #Instagram

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deepmoonquotes · 11 months

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10 Best Deep Moon Quotes

The moon has captivated humanity for centuries with its enigmatic beauty and mysterious allure. As Earth's closest celestial companion, it holds a special place in our collective imagination. In this article, we delve into the depths of the moon, unraveling its secrets, and reflecting on its profound symbolism. Through a series of deep moon quotes, we explore the moon's impact on our emotions, spirituality, and the human quest for discovery.

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The Moon's Mystical Aura

The moon possesses a mystical aura that has inspired poets, artists, and dreamers throughout history. Its ethereal glow casts a spell on the night sky, evoking a sense of wonder and enchantment. As we gaze at its serene visage, we are reminded of the vastness of the cosmos and our own infinitesimal place within it.

Deep Moon Quote 1: "In the depths of the moon, secrets lie waiting to be discovered."

Deep Moon Quote 2: "The moon's silver light whispers secrets to those who dare to listen."

A Gateway to Self-Reflection

The moon's gentle presence provides a sacred space for self-reflection and introspection. Its tranquil beauty encourages us to delve into the depths of our own souls, shedding light on our hopes, fears, and aspirations. Under the moon's watchful gaze, we find solace and clarity amidst life's chaotic tapestry.

Deep Moon Quote 3: "In the silence of the moon, introspection finds its true home."

Deep Moon Quote 4: "The moon's tranquil presence reassures us that we are never alone."

The Moon's Emotional Tides

Just as the moon exerts its gravitational pull on Earth's tides, it also stirs the tides of our emotions. The moon's phases symbolize the ever-changing nature of human experiences—joy, sorrow, love, and longing. Its radiant glow acts as a mirror, reflecting the depth and complexity of our inner emotional landscapes.

Deep Moon Quote 5: "Like the moon, we have hidden sides that deserve to be embraced."

Deep Moon Quote 6: "Just as the moon influences tides, it also stirs the tides of our emotions."

Unveiling the Secrets of the Moon's Surface

Exploring the moon's surface unveils a rugged and desolate landscape, adorned with countless craters and scars. Each crater tells a story of cosmic collisions and the resilience of celestial bodies. These lunar markings become symbols of strength and remind us that even in the face of adversity, beauty can emerge.

Deep Moon Quote 7: "The moon's craters symbolize resilience amidst life's scars."

Deep Moon Quote 8: "The moon's craters are the footprints of countless cosmic stories."

The Moon's Spiritual Significance

Paragraph: The moon holds profound spiritual significance across cultures and religions. It serves as a celestial guide, inviting us to connect with the divine and explore the mysteries of the universe. The moon's serene radiance transcends earthly boundaries, uniting humanity under a shared celestial canvas.

Deep Moon Quote 9: "Beneath the moon's gentle light, we find solace and healing."

Deep Moon Quote 10: "The moon's celestial dance reminds us of the interconnectedness of the universe."

The deep moon quotes explored above take us on a poetic journey into the heart of the moon's profound symbolism. From its mystical aura to its role in self-reflection, emotional tides, lunar landscapes, and spiritual significance, the moon continues to inspire and captivate us. As we gaze upon the moon's serene visage, we are reminded of the vastness of the cosmos and our own place within it. The moon's beauty is not merely a celestial spectacle but a reflection of our own inner worlds, inviting us to explore the depths of our emotions, contemplate the mysteries of existence, and embrace the resilience that lies within us.

Whether we find solace in the moon's tranquil presence, draw inspiration from its ethereal glow, or embark on a journey of self-discovery beneath its watchful gaze, the moon holds a profound significance in our lives. It is a symbol of transformation, reminding us of the constant change that shapes our journey and urging us to embrace the unknown with courage and curiosity.

The moon's impact extends beyond its physical presence in the night sky. It resonates deeply with our emotions, aligning with the ebb and flow of our feelings. Just as the moon influences the tides, it stirs the tides of our own emotions, reminding us of the interconnectedness of all things and the ever-changing nature of our inner landscapes.

Exploring the moon's surface reveals a rugged terrain marked by craters and scars. Each crater tells a story of resilience and adaptation, reminding us that even in the face of challenges, there is beauty to be found. The moon's desolate landscapes become a canvas for our imagination, a reminder of the vastness of the universe and the limitless possibilities that lie within us.

The moon's spiritual significance is woven into the fabric of human history and culture. It has been revered as a celestial guide, a source of wisdom, and a symbol of enlightenment. Under the moon's gentle light, we find solace and healing, connecting with something greater than ourselves and experiencing a profound sense of unity with the cosmos.

In conclusion, the deep moon quotes shared throughout this article invite us to embark on a journey of exploration, reflection, and self-discovery. The moon's enigmatic beauty, its emotional resonance, its rugged landscapes, and its spiritual significance all remind us of the profound interconnectedness of the universe and our place within it. As we contemplate the deep moon, may we be inspired to embrace the depths of our own being, to navigate the ever-changing tides of life with grace, and to find solace, inspiration, and inner strength in the moon's serene presence.

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sihayadunee · 5 months

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Sleeping Beauty in Mayfair Witches

Finally getting to my Aarne-Thompson-Uther folktale analysis, inspired by @allgirlsareprincesses. This first instalment will cover the ATU type 410, aka Sleeping Beauty or the Search for the Lost Bride. Future posts will cover ATU type 425, aka Beauty and the Beast or Search for the Lost Husband.

A fair warning, this post will cover some spoilers for Deirdre’s storyline. Rowan’s story potentially has some similarities to a tale variant called The Nineth Captain’s Tale, but I will save that for another time when we cover the Animal Husband motif. For more of a focus on our protagonist Rowan, you can check out my mythic symbolism series: Part One, Part Two. If you wish to watch the show first, Anne Rice’s Mayfair Witches is available to stream on AMC+ as well as purchase physically on DVD and Blue-Ray. Now let’s jump right in!

The tale type 410, or Sleeping Beauty, is related to Snow White, and other such Lost Bride tales. Typically a princess is the subject of a warning or prophecy, before succumbing to a cursed sleep either by consuming poison or being pricked. She is then awakened by a prince.

In the first episode, we open with an overgrown and desolate house in New Orleans. Much like the hidden castle overgrown with forest and thorns. This is the Mayfair House, and we follow Dr. Vernon Lamb as he makes his first house call to his new patient Deirdre Mayfair, who exists in a medically induced catatonic state. Dr. Lamb is the first of three characters who fill the role of the “prince” in this tale.

BEFORE THE SUN SETS ON HER 16th BIRTHDAY, SHE SHALL PRICK HER FINGER ON THE SPINDLE OF A SPINNING WHEEL — AND DIE!

The pricking of Sleeping Beauty’s finger, is a phallic symbolic of sexual awakening, first blood and transition out of childhood. This is represented a number of ways in the show. In our flashbacks, we see Deirdre as a young women at the age between childhood and adulthood. Her Aunt Carlotta and the local priest, constantly warn her against indulging “The Man” who we learn is called Lasher.

In her room she has a snow globe depicting the Eiffel Tower, a phallic symbol, which represents her yearning to escape from her overbearing aunts. Interestingly, she will actually cut her self on this broken snow globe at some point. She also longs for a relationship with Lasher, which she can’t have while she is a child.

When she sneaks away to her Uncle Cortland’s party, he secretly arranges for a handsome youth to sweep her off her feet and deflower her. Here Deirdre physically crosses that threshold into maturity.

Later after a great trauma, her Aunt Carlotta arranges with Deirdre’s doctors to give her Thorazine shots. This is the first of many terrible procedures which eventually cause Deirdre to become catatonic in adulthood.

*trigger warning for mentions of sexual assault in the following section*

It is revealed later in the season, that the night Deirdre had her first sexual experience, she is also raped. Her Uncle Cortland has his own ulterior motives, and wants to ensure she gets pregnant before her aunts lock her away forever. So after the young man leaves, and while Deirdre lies sleeping, Cortland puts on a mask and forces himself on her. She is still in a dream like state during this so does not know, and afterwards regardless of who it was, Deirdre becomes pregnant. This is something we often see in variations like The Sun, Moon, and Talia. A passing king or prince raping the sleeping princess, after which she becomes pregnant.

*end of trigger warning*

FROM THIS SLUMBER YOU SHALL WAKE, WHEN TRUE LOVE’S KISS, THE SPELL SHALL BREAK

When Dr. Lamb sees how young and otherwise healthy Deirdre is, he reviews her file and decides she is in danger from her Aunt Carlotta. He decided to pretend to give her the Thorazine shot, intending to help Deirdre wake up and be free. This is similar to the accidental removal of the curse, such as in The Sun, and Moon, and Talia where her child sucks the flax from her finger and she awakens.

While there isn’t a formal awakening kiss, the power of true love component presents itself through Lasher, who is technically trapped with Deirdre inside her mind. He helps coax her awake, telling her to take control again. So she does.

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE: THE LOST BRIDE TALE

Unfortunately for Deirdre, like Padmé in the Star Wars Prequel Trilogy and Eurydice before them, she meets a grim fate. No pun intended. Lasher is bound to each Designee of the Mayfair bloodline, and Carlotta Mayfair often found the most suitable means to suppress his power and keep him at bay, to be killing his witches.

As they pass on to the next life, Lasher’s only connection to them is through the other Designees. So with each death, he feels each loss. But Deirdre is particularly representative of this Lost Bride myth, because she was already in a death-like sleep which he was trying to save her from.

Even before Dr. Lamb arrived, it’s clear Lasher had been trying and failing to get through to Deirdre, thanks to the Thorazine. Once the doctor stops her dosages, Lasher can finally find her. Just like Orpheus, it is his voice that leads her back to the realm of the living. And just like Orpheus loses Eurydice at the last moment, so too does Lasher lose Deirdre.

#greek mythology #fairytales #anne rice #mayfair witches #folktale #folklore #sleeping beauty #deirdre mayfair #mythology

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digitsofpie · 10 months

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Ok crazed metropolis soundtrack rant below

So like. I made that post about the intricacies of the Metropolis leitmotifs but I didn't really go in much detail on any of the songs, so... for the hell of it here's an analysis on the leitmotifs of Der Tanz (The Dance)

Now I'm no expert on music theory, but this... THIS... this song is truly a sight to behold.

I was lucky enough to find an ACTUAL FULL VERSION of the sheet music for the entire score! Imslp.org is a lovely site full of public domain sheet music for people to download for free! Hopeful me wanted to see if there was any chance that Huppertz's score was on there, and it is! You can check out the full thing here. Since it's such a long score and there are so many parts, it's written like a piano piece with other specific parts written in at times. It follows the full length 2 hour long score on Spotify, and not the condensed one hour long version. Anyway here we go!!!!

I want to start by saying that this piece, Der Tanz, is very, very intricate! It is pretty much a culmination of many recurring leitmotifs already present in the score, and is like a big hurrah at the end of the Zwischenspiel.

It starts with this:

Those first two measures are devoid of any other instruments besides the steady bounce of the wood block. It seems like a trivial choice, but I found that it is a deliberate one!

Elsewhere in the movie, when Georgy (11811) switches lives with Freder and rides in a car through the city, he encounters the Yoshiwara, the red-light district full of that 1920s glamour and excess. There, you can hear these things: the wood block, the bells/glockenspiel. and a rhythm of two sixteenth notes and three eighth notes (we'll encounter those later).

Both the wood block and the bells give off a vibe of whimsy and carefreeness/carelessness (depending on how you see it), so I find it a wonderful choice in the context of the movie.

Moving on, we encounter what I call the Dance motif/ False Maria motif:

That pattern of descending sixteenth/eighth notes is what characterizes False Maria. You hear it in practically every other scene she's in. such as the scene in which Joh Fredersen commands her to ruin Maria's efforts:

Same pattern, right? It also shows up in "Im Laboratorium - Verwandlung" and in "In Rotwangs Salon," as well as plenty of other songs.

It's a careless, playful motif that I think perfectly symbolizes False Maria, and when twisted right (like in the image above), is sinister as well.

Soon after this motif appears, we get another theme that occurs a LOT throughout the entire score: the Machine Man motif.

See the smaller staff, at the very top? That motif shows up in many places, usually to do with the Machine Man, such as "Der Maschineman," "Im Laboratorium," "Der Aufstand der Arbeiter," Der Scheiterhaufen," and many, many more!

It is a hypnotic and beautiful theme, not unlike False Maria herself. She/ the Machine Man are almost ethereal but unnerving in the way they act, and the theme itself, though graceful, seems to veil the unknown.

At the same time this motif is playing, a rhythm played in the Yoshiwara theme (Die Autofahrt) also plays!

It may be a bit of a stretch, and although the two are in different time signatures (one is cut time (2/2) and the other is 2/4), you can still see a resemblance! All it does is solidify that this is the same area, an upbeat and lively club.

Next is something I only discovered recently! The next motif is what I previously called the Desolation motif, and it shows up here:

In the top part, a series of half notes plays ominously in the background. It not only shows up throughout the Metropolis score, but in other classical music, as well! I was listening to Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique when I noticed that familiar ominous pattern, so I looked it up, and found this:

It's an old pattern found in Gregorian chants, often referenced in classical music to convey death, danger, or as the name goes, an "angry god." I even found that Saturn, the Bringer of Old Age from Holst's the Planets (my favorite movement from my favorite piece) also uses this!

Of course, with all the religious imagery throughout Metropolis, from Moloch to Death itself, you can't really have a soundtrack without referencing this once.

During this sequence, the song plays through the Machine Man motif quietly, then picks up the pace by repeating the False Maria motif with the Yoshiwara rhythm. Then, I heard something interesting!

During rehearsal 48, the Dies Irae motif plays again, harsher and louder, but over that, on the smaller staff, you can hear a piccolo. In the song after this, Der Tod, Death himself plays a piccolo (well, a bone) and it is the primary instrument you hear in that specific song. Even before he shows himself, the score sort of leads up to that by having the piccolo play during the Dies Irae motif.

The song gets louder and faster, culminating in a blast of Dies Irae with a trumpet in the lead. Then, in the center of desolation, it goes right into Der Tod.

That's all the leitmotifs I could pick up, but a song doesn't have to HAVE leitmotifs to tell you something. In fact, the ABSENCE of leitmotifs also speaks just as loudly as having them.

What's something that we, the audience, know that most of the characters don't? That's right: that the woman dancing before them is not Maria, but a robot, a puppet, a mockery of her. So what do you let the audience know through the music? By NOT having any of the real Maria's motifs present!

While listening, I could pinpoint a few of Maria's themes.

(Found in Die Predigt Marias and Freder und Maria, respectively)

As seen in the smaller, upper staffs, Maria's themes are slow, flowing, gentle, majestic, showing her understanding and kind nature. To have these themes not show up at all subconsciously hammers it in how different the two characters are, and when you can't tell which is which, all you have to do is listen to the music. Even when you can't remember what scene happened during whatever track you're listening to, if you recognize the motifs, you can certainly take a wild guess.

Oooookay I've completely run out of things to say about Der Tanz, so. Thanks for reading (if anyone reading this can't read music, im. sorry)

#this post took me several days to make #if that doesnt say anything about my mental state idk what does #anyway metropolis/classical music/movie score likers follow me for more deranged rants!!!!!!!#metropolis 1927 #gottfried huppertz #freder fredersen #false maria #you heard it from pie

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