#cortege | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

undiscovered-horizon · 6 months

Note

Hello Sofia! My name is Aleksandra! Just wanted to send a request of Zoro x reader where reader has just joined the crew she is a witch and very strong, sweet, but could be intense (in a good way) as well as mysterious everyone in the crew absolutely loves her but it takes time for Zoro to completely trust her so he keeps his eye on her causing them both to have some tension some days they are arguing over tiny situations some days they are sitting alone together laughing and smiling at one another with feelings building up that they have yet to understand even though they are confused with their feelings their connection runs deeply to the point it drives them insane everyone else in the crew see's this (Besides our dear Luffy.) They try to get them to open up but it's hopeless at times. I was thinking Zoro gets a deep cut during a fight and Reader helps him with his wound this is where they are able to share their feelings and once they deeply kiss they understand how they feel from there.

I hope this is a good one to do! Thank you!✨🌻✨

I would love to be tagged at!💜 @shewalksinanotherworld

This took a little bit longer and I have nothing to say for myself except that my executive function does not, in fact, function. Enjoy! @shewalksinanotherworld Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

"The way to a man's heart" - Zoro x Reader

[graphic descriptions of open wounds]

Somebody once said that love and hate are two sides of the same coin - a token of devotion. Like tides of two seas that create storms and whirlpools upon meeting, it is often impossible to determine where one ends and the other begins. Perhaps, these waters have never differed as they are two ends of one river. Both lovers and enemies alike make up the first row of the funeral cortege.

And just like those seas, no matter whether they are the same or two different bodies, Zoro and you seem to be ebbing and flowing across love and hate. Flipping the coin of dedication each day to see where your tense relationship will take you. Sometimes more than once a day, when mere hours separate passionate fights from merry laughter.

But speaking of turning tides and seamlessly flowing waters, wouldn't the seas know each other far too well? What constitutes oceans of hate was once the pond of love. Conversely, the waters of affection had once flown as tides of enmity. If the answer is yes, it would explain quite a lot about the rather inexplicable connection you share with the swordsman. Sometimes not a word has to be spoken but a fleeting gaze exchange for either of you to know perfectly well what the other has on their mind.

To be fair, it's hard for you to put your finger on the why - Why are you and Zoro so strange with each other? The most plausible explanation would probably be his stubborn distrust. He's a very guarded person which, by itself, is not unfathomable considering his journey and livelihood. But it is absolutely tedious when he sticks to his guns against all available evidence. Weeks went by when Zoro was the only crewmember who perceived you in different shades of suspicion, even after witnessing you put your life on the line for your mutual friends. His stubbornness was frustrating, so you gave him as good as you got and well... Here we are, wading in the murky waters of passion, both pleasant and adverse.

However, you'll be wading much different waters, those flowing in the Styx River, if you don't escape now. The Indigo Cross pirates are a little too close behind you. You can almost feel their breaths on your neck as they scream about revenge, bloodshed and defending their captain's honour. Yes, about that... It wasn't exactly Luffy's fault that the man he told to apologize to the tavern waitress was the world's most narcissistic pirate. Alas, the damage is done and so is your chance at a peaceful shore leave.

The Merry Go is but a few meters away. You just have to get to the gangway and run up the stairs so fast your mother would go bald from stress. Just two things, right?

Your foot gets caught the between rotting planks of the pier. The unforeseen obstacle in your escape startles you, giving you barely any time to shield your face from the painful impact of the ground.

"Shit!" you groan to yourself, yanking your foot.

Zoro yells out your name. In long strides, he catches up with you. He manages to rip away one of the mould-covered planks. Despite your foot being set free, the man lifts you to stand on your own.

"You go, I'll hold them back," he orders you as he nudges you in the direction of the ship. Before you can defy him, Zoro is already running towards the oncoming wave of looking-for-a-scrap pirates.

Time seems to slow down as you watch a spear, its polished head shining in the sunlight, fly through the air and pierce Zoro's chest. He stumbles backwards and falls on one knee. With a roar of agony, the swordsman grabs the long shaft of the weapon. A loud snap fills the air as he breaks the wood off. Then, like a phoenix rising from the ashes,, Zoro stands up. Although his legs tremble slightly, he still lifts his swords and fights off the Indigo pirates. Some seem to drop their weapons in surrender, seeing that not even death can grasp this demon of a man.

You want to call for him but Sanji firmly grabs your arm and pulls you on board. "Come on, he can handle himself."

Having hidden on the lower deck, you're not sure what happened on the shore and onboard the ship until you saw none other but Roronoa Zoro, stumbling down the stairs and almost falling on the floor. Luffy, Usopp and even Sanji yell and nag at him to get his wound looked at while Nami keeps calling him different variations of "stupid" but Zoro only curses at them and tells a less savoury "Leave me alone".

Maybe thirty minutes pass by until the emotions die down or are at least well hidden. Your four friends sit around the kitchen, all strangely silent. They all give you a curious look when you let out a heavy sigh and march towards Zoro's room. He's going to die one day, obviously, but it's not going to be today. And definitely not because he put your safety before his own. What kind of rom-com death would that be?

Zoro is facing you with his back when you swing the door open without even knocking first. You seem to have interrupted his rather poor attempt at bandaging the hole in his chest. He looks over his shoulder, his face bearing an expression of annoyance.

"What do you want?"

You toss a handful of medical supplies on top of the chest with his belongings. The fresh dressings, a small bottle of alcohol, a needle and a thread tell quite the story, lying next to the bloodied head of a spear with splinters coming out of where the long shaft should be. It's still hardly believable what he did back there.

"When you get an infection, you green-haired idiot," you speak with your hands crossed on your chest. It's clear as day - you're pissed off, "it will be Sanji spoon-feeding you. I'm sure you'll be having the time of your life then."

Your sarcastic remark doesn't seem to phase him. The wrinkle between Zoro's eyebrows only gets deeper.

"I'm fine. I've been worse," he says with an exasperated sigh. "Just piss off," the man groans in a low voice.

Maybe if he wasn't already injured, you'd punch him straight in the jaw. "Stop being a stubborn ass," you raise your voice, "and let me help you."

Zoro rolls his eyes dramatically. Making a show of his discontentment, he sits on the edge of his hammock. If he was just a few yours younger maybe he'd stomp his feet too, as befits a toddler he seems to have chosen to act like.

Minutes go by in silence as you clean the deep would and do your best suturing it. Meanwhile, Zoro doesn't even wince. He's perfectly calm and collected, almost as though his soul has left his body and gone for a stroll.

By the looks of it, you haven't stitched wounds many times and Sanji would probably be better at this, with his experienced hands and all, but that would require Zoro to be either already dead or at least unconscious. There's no other way he'd willingly let those slimy fingers touch him.

“They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach," you say under your breath as you tighten the knot on the last suture. The last thing you want is the deep wound reopening. "I guess going through his ribs works too.”

"A lot more efficient." The swordsman chuckles but his laughter soon turns into winces and groans. Although he's not going to bleed to death anymore, the rather large hole in his chest is this painful and not something to trifle with.

"A spear nearly pierced right through you and you're having a laugh?" You nod with approval. He's impressed you, you have to give him that. "Roronoa Zoro, you command respect."

A silence falls between you again as you put back the collection of medical supplies you've managed to find aboard. Little do you know, Zoro's watchful gaze doesn't leave you. He seems to be intensely thinking about something.

"Thanks," he finally spits out. "I would rather die than let Sanji spoon-feed me."

It's not the wraith of death that scared him into letting you patch him up - it was the cook in a striped shirt. Really? Roronoa Zoro is a lot of things but "ordinary" or "predictable" is not one of them.

You burst into laughter. "Unfortunately," you manage to breathe out, "I would have loved to see that."

He shakes his head in disapproval but his lips are curved into a grin. "I hate you."

"No, you don't, big guy," you answer as you playfully poke his arm. It's still covered in dried blood and sweat.

His dark eyes stare into yours with a strange glint to them. It's almost like amusement but not entirely - it's deeper, much deeper. "Yeah, I don't," he whispers.

Everything happens so fast: Zoro grabs your neck and pulls you flush against himself, crashing his lips against yours. Involuntarily you yelp, which elicits a chuckle from the man. On one hand, you're surprised with his sudden declaration of passion but on the other hand, you're relieved. Of course, you have joked that Zoro must be in love with you to be so annoying most of the time but rarely did you consider it a real possibility. He just... didn't seem like a man who loves, only desires. But now, when he's kissing you so desperately and eagerly, you feel stupid for ever thinking such thoughts. As his hand roams your body, you begin to wonder whether all of this has always been this funny - every one of your friends already knew the feelings you had for each other, except the two of you. Something so obvious it's easily overlooked.

It makes you think that he was, actually, scared of losing but not his life. He was scared of losing someone.

226 notes · View notes

brf-rumortrackinganon · 3 months

Text

I know it’s too soon and it sounds like they have everything under control, but let’s say the worst happens and we suddenly have King William and Queen Catherine….

Yes, it would be sad yada yada, but how delicious to see the Harkles forced to bow/ curtsey to the new King and Queen in public.

Markle would brave the humiliation to help her brand, but how humiliating for them to bow/ curtsey to their hated rivals.

***

Seeing Meghan have to grovel to William and Kate would be better than a free dessert with Costco-sized portions.

The humiliation she felt at the Queen’s funeral is going to pale in comparison to the humiliation she will feel at the King’s funeral. And when you think about it, The Queen’s funeral was three times the humiliation Meghan was expecting:

1. She (and Harry) were already in the UK which meant she was on a kind of lockdown that kept her from orchestrating the usual PR shenanigans she has become accustomed to when the BRF has major ceremonial events like this. She not only had ‘the firm’ watching her, but Harry was also there with her, in the same house, and she couldn’t just send him away so she could scheme in private (as she did every other time Harry went back to London without her, and notably for Philip’s funeral).

2. This “lockdown” also meant that she couldn’t go anywhere. No traveling, no parties, no nothing because of tightened security protocols, which means she couldn’t escape any of the criticism being said about her and Harry and she also couldn’t escape any of the praise Kate was getting...whom everyone was now calling The Princess of Wales while she was just ‘Meghan.’

3. It was made very clear that she and Harry were not welcome around the family, neither the main “branch” of Charles and Waleses nor the extended family. Harry wasn’t invited on the plane with William, but Andrew was. Harry wasn’t invited to Birkhall with Charles the night The Queen died to discuss transition. Hardman’s book all but says no one talked to Harry that night at Balmoral over dinner. Harry didn’t do the “family” walkabout at Balmoral with the rest of the grandchildren. The Sussexes didn’t get their own “meet the public and view the tributes” walkabout like the rest of the titled family members (minus the Yorkies). Charles called them ‘Harry and Meghan’ (no titles) and wished them well overseas in his first speech after The Queen’s passing. Harry wasn’t part of the Accession Council. Members of the public visibly and audibly refused to give greetings to Meghan at the Windsor walkabout. Harry had his ER revoked from his military uniform the one time he did get to wear it. Meghan was rejected by Camilla, Kate, and Sophie at the funeral - look at the gulf between them after the service when they were curtsying the cortege. No one spoke to them after The Queen’s commital service when they were waiting to leave but the staff.

It’s going to be so, so much worse when Charles passes. Especially if they’re in California (like when Philip passed) and all these negotiations are happening over much longer distances with much more time zones.

(And I do think Harry has some regret over The Queen and Philip’s passing - he “wasn’t told” they were dying so he didn’t get to see them one last time, which which probably made the trauma from Diana’s passing fresh again, and that’s why we see Harry making urgent plans to see Charles. This isn’t a knock against Harry; I missed seeing my own grandfather before he passed, the only cousin/grandchild who did, and the woulda/coulda/shoulda is very real so I completely understand. I do, however, side-eye his claims that he wasn’t told, because the signs were very, very obvious in both situations.)

#ask #brf #in this essay i will

83 notes · View notes

theroyalsandi · 8 months

Text

The Crown Princess of Sweden and Prince Oscar, Duke of Skåne standing on the Palace balcony looking as the Cortege with King Carl XVI Gustaf and Queen Silvia in Central Stockholm, Sweden | September 16, 2023

#royaltyedit #theroyalsandi #crown princess victoria #prince oscar #crown princess of sweden #Duke of Skåne #swedish 2023 #sep 2023 #2023 #swedish royal family #my edit

116 notes · View notes

calabria-mediterranea · 2 months

Text

Seminara, Calabria, Italy

Seminara is located at the tip of the Italian boot about 30 kilometers (19 miles) north of Reggio Calabria. Its noteworthy political past includes turn-of-the-15th-century battles associated with the Italian Wars and a 1535 visit by the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, who entered Seminara in a triumphal cortege to celebrate his victory over the Ottomans in Tunis.

Historically, the town has also had a reputation for its fine olive oil and silk.

Its two most distinguished citizens reflect southern Calabria’s Greek heritage, which endured long past the periods of Greater Greece and the Early Middle Ages when Orthodox Churches were established throughout the territory. Barlaam of Seminara (1290-1348) was an influential Byzantine-Greek clergyman and philosopher, and Leonzio Pilato (died 1364) was the first to translate Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey into Latin. His translations were used by the likes of Petrarca and Boccaccio.

The sanctuary of Maria Santissima dei Poveri is the main place of worship in Seminara, a town in the city of Reggio Calabria. It is well known because it preserves the statue of the Madonna dei Poveri, known as the Greek Black Madonna of San Basilio Magno. It is the oldest wooden statue in Calabria, carved in cedar wood and covered in gold and with its 92 cm, it is the second tallest black Madonna in the world, after that of Verdelot, in France.

In Seminara there is also one of the most interesting Greek Orthodox monastery of Southern Italy. Founded in 9th century by Sant’Elia of Enna, a Sicilian monk who lived in asceticism in a nearby cave, the monastery was endowed with rich goods and privileges by the Byzantine emperor Leo VI the Wise, who appreciated its sanctity and wisdom.

The monastery soon became a center of spiritual and cultural radiation, attracting numerous disciples and pilgrims, including the famous Filareto l’Ortolano, who died there in the odor of sanctity.

Unfortunately, it duffered the historical vicissitudes of Calabria, including invasions, earthquakes and persecutions. In the 16th century, following the forced Latinization of the Southern Orthodox churches, the monastery was abandoned and fell into ruin. 9th century Greek Orthodox Monastery. It was restored in 2005 and is now open for pilgrims and travelers.

Photos by Calabria Straordinaria, @piervalentino_pierva, @karim.ayed.1976, @dmncdlc, @morgana_zeta, , @esplorando_dietro_casa e @giuliaeats

31 notes · View notes

talonabraxas · 11 days

Text

🌼🏵️🌼🏵️☀️🏵️🌼🏵️🌼 Green Man, May Day and May Pole

The Goddess of what is now May Day goes back to ancient times, in Anatolia, Greece, and Rome. Spring goddesses came to be venerated at two Roman holiday festivals that led to our May Day. The Roman Empire is important here because it took over much of Europe and the British Isles. Its mythology, associated rituals, and holidays spread there and merged with local conditions, mythologies, holidays, and customs.

The first of these goddesses of spring holidays was the Hilaria festival (from Greek hilareia/hilaria (“rejoicing”) and Latin hilaris (“cheerful”), held between the vernal equinox and April 1. It goes back to when the Phrygian goddess Cybele was introduced to Rome, at the end of the 3rd century BCE. In her myth, she had a son-lover, Attis, a dying-and-rising god who was mortally gored by a boar. Cybele knew that he had not died for eternity but that his spirit simply had taken refuge in a tree for the winter, and that he would be reborn from the tree in the spring, on the vernal equinox. When Cybele was introduced in Rome, she was given her temple of Magna Mater on the Palatine hill and a also a holiday with corresponding rituals. In her festival, a pine tree (that of Attis) was cut and stripped of its branches, wrapped in linen like a mummy, and decorated with violets (Cybele’s flower, because in the myth violets were said to have sprung from the blood of Attis).

It was then brought before Cybele’s temple on wagons in what resembled a funeral cortege, since Attis was “dead” inside the tree. This was followed by days of frenzied grief and mourning (including scourging) known as the “blood days,” when the tree was symbolically buried in a “tomb.” Attis then resurrected (rose out of the tree) on the day of Hilaria and was reunited with Cybele, symbolizing the beginning of spring. The tree was then erected before Cybele’s temple, and the people celebrated around it. The celebrations ended on April 1, which may be the origin of our April Fool’s day (the people were having a “hilarious” celebration). This has obvious parallels with the Maypole and May Day celebrations.

The second of these holidays was the Floralia, named after Flora, goddess of flowers and spring. Originally she may have been a Sabine goddess, about whom we know nothing other than that she had a spring month named after her on the Sabine calendar (Flusalis, linguistically related to Floralia) and that supposedly an altar to her in Rome was established by the Sabine king Tatius during the legendary period of his joint rule of Rome with Romulus. But none of her Sabine mythology has survived. In Rome Flora acquired her entire surviving mythology from the Greek spring goddess Chloris (from chloros – “pale green”),

who, as Ovid tells us, was originally a beautiful nymph in the Elysian Fields catering to the pleasures of the fortunate dead. There she also attracted the attention of Zephryos, the god of the West Wind and of spring, who quickly had his way with her. But then he married her, in what turned out to be a happy, loving marriage. As a wedding gift he filled her fields (her dowry in the marriage) with a flower garden, the flowers in which were said to spring from the wounds of Attis and Adonis. Zephyros, as the West Wind, brings the spring rains that grow the flowers. Thus, Virgil wrote that “the meadows ungirdle to Zephyros’s balmy breeze; the tender moisture avails for all.” Chloris also bore from Zephryos a son, Karpos, in Greek meaning “fruit” or “crop.” Through Zephyros’s wedding gift she became the goddess having jurisdiction over flowers, which she spread (by spreading their seeds) all over the earth, which until then was monochrome. She became goddess of spring. As Flora in Rome, in the late 3rd century BCE a festival was instituted in her honor that lasted from April 28 to May 2. It included theater, a sacrifice to Flora, a procession in which a statue of Flora was carried, as well as competitive events and other spectacles at the Circus Maximus. One of these involved releasing captured hares and goats (both noted for their fertility) into the Circus, and scattering beans, vetches, and lupins (all fertility symbols) into the crowd. The celebrants wore multi-colored clothing symbolizing flowers and spring, as later was customary on May Day in Europe. It was a time of generally licentious behavior. Flora also had a rose festival on May 23.

Holy Marriage Beltane can be seen as the feast of Holy Marriage or else as the feast of fertilization in nature. The Goddess is at her best in an array of flowers and flowers. The God is green and horned. This marriage takes place in nature around us, it takes place between the God and the Goddess, between man and woman, but it is also an inner marriage of the male and female energies within you. This is the feast of the actual cosmic orgasm, which is only achieved in complete indolence or in complete unification. It is the mixing of the red stream of the Goddess, with the white stream of the god. At the most plastic this is (menstruation) blood and semen. But it is also the descending and ascending, the incoming and outgoing energy flow. When these currents are in harmony with each other, unification arises and thereby fertility and creativity.

The Goddess by Talon Abraxas

17 notes · View notes