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cobrakaisb · 4 months

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always an angel, never a god

summary: the aftermath of luke’s failed quest to the garden of the hesperides includes a dirty motel, a new wound, and sharing a bed with his best friend.

word count: 2.8k

featuring: ONE BED TROPE, set pre-tlt, luke and reader both have crushes on each other, lowkey hurt-comfort, mentions of injuries/getting injured, death, angst with a tiny bit of fluff

“let’s just stop here for the night, then we can keep moving,” you begged, standing in the motel parking lot. luke was weary, eyeing the property distrustfully. “it doesn’t look safe,” he mumbled, hand fisting the strap of his worn blue backpack so tightly that his knuckles were white. “please,” you whispered, eyes shining with tears. it had been a rough couple of days, especially with the major losses you’d both suffered.

“just until tomorrow morning,” you begged. he sighed, but nodded his head. you exhaled a breath of relief, as your forehead came to rest on his shoulder. he stiffened, but relaxed under your soft touch. your lips ghosted against his shoulder, as you planted a soft, barely-there kiss on the faded green cloth. luke’s fingers gently brushed against the back of your hand, wrapping around your wrist. you lift your head from his shoulder, lacing your fingers together, and lead him towards the motel lobby.

it’s clearly rundown; the carpet floors are dirty and the room reeks of mildew and sweat, but neither of you complain. you're just happy to have access to a bed and a shower. luke walks up to the check in desk, ringing the small bell to alert the employee(s) that someone was here. a few minutes pass by, but then an older man comes out from the back room. he looks hesitantly between the two before asking, “can i help you folks?”

“we’d like a room please. just for tonight,” you explain, squeezing luke’s hand a little tighter as the man continues to stare you two down. you can’t imagine what you look like to him: bruised, battered, bleeding, and crying. not to mention luke’s face; the wound was still open and dripping blood every few seconds. you’d done what you could on the road to help stop the bleeding, but the only real way to heal it was going to be with stitches and deep disinfectant.

“just your luck, we have one room left,” he smiles, inputting something in the system before handing you a key. you smile tightly at him, feeling the tension in luke’s shoulders seeping into your bones. why would there only be one room left if the parking lot was empty? “thanks so much,” you replied, leading luke out of the lobby and towards your room on the second floor.

“i really don’t like it here,” he grumbled, setting his bag down on the floor once you entered the room. you toed off your worn out black converse, locking the door behind you as you rolled your eyes. “it’s just one night. besides we need to rest and regroup now that…” you started to say, but ended up pausing. it hurts to mention her; the wound in your heart is still fresh. you swallow, taking a deep breath before turning to luke, “let’s take care of your face.”

he nods, wordlessly following you into the bathroom. he watches as you grab the first aid kit from the backpack and turn on the hot water. he waits patiently, occasionally admiring you, while you wet one of the few provided face clothes. “this might sting,” you whispered as you began to clean away at the blood and grime caked onto his cheek. he winces, gripping onto you for support.

“it’s okay. you’re okay. i’m almost done,” you said, trying to soothe him. instead of watching your motions, he looks at your face. your eyes, ones which normally shone bright with joy, were dull; the vibrant colors muted by your sadness. he wondered if you felt pity for him and his failure, or if you were still coping. this quest wasn’t meant to be a three person one, but you refused to let him partake in the challenge alone. he couldn't help but blame his dad for your sorrows; everything always came back to the gods.

“can you sit down on the toilet for me? i want to clean the cut, and i need a better vantage point,” you explained, putting the towel on the side of the sink as you opened the first aid kit. he complied to your orders, taking a seat on the closed toilet. he waited with bated breath, as you dug around in the kit, looking for whatever it was you needed. finally, you made eye contact with him, a small smile on your face as you held up a cotton ball and bottle of peroxide.

luke groans, throwing his head back in frustration. “no, absolutely not,” he mumbled, moving his head away from you. he froze, however, when your palm rested against his uninjured cheek. “please luke, i don’t want it to get infected,” you whispered, voice soft and thick with emotion. his brown eyes meet yours; they’re swimming with worry. “okay,” he relaxes, rolling his shoulders back to release some of the tension in them. you smile softly, trying your best to be reassuring as you remove your hand from his cheek to pour a small amount of peroxide onto the cotton.

“this is going to sting,” you warned. luke takes a deep breath, and subtly nods for you to continue. as gently as possible, you begin to clean the deep wound running from his eye to his jaw. luke hisses, his right hand gripping onto your thigh. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” you mumbled, but you continued your ministrations. luke doesn’t answer, simply gritting his teeth and keeping a hold on your thigh. after a few more swipes, you pause to inspect the wound. your hand grips his jaw, and you turn his face to the right; satisfied with your work, you throw the used items in the small garbage.

he watches as your attention focuses back on the first aid kit. you’re digging through the small red box, searching for the required items to stitch up his face. despite his dire situation, the crushing weight of worthlessness and embarrassment, and his most likely infected wound, he couldn’t help but feel serene. being here with you was exactly what he needed; you were all that he needed.

“okay so i have the needle and thread. do you want to shower first? otherwise you won’t be able to,” you explained, moving back to stand between his legs. luke’s hands came to rest on the small of your back, fingers creeping under the hem of your tee shirt. “i’ll shower, then you can stitch me up,” he agreed, humming softly as you absentmindedly twirled one of his black curls around your finger. “perfect. i’ll be right outside,” you whispered, trying to step out of his hold, but his arms just tightened around you.

“stay,” he pleaded, brown eyes widening. you sighed, a conflicted look in your eyes. “i can’t lose you,” he whispered. “i won’t lose you,” he continued, resting his head against your abdomen. you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. everything was getting to be too much, on the both of you. “i’m not going anywhere angel, i promise,” you replied, fingers carding through his hair in a feeble attempt to soothe him. he lets out a shaky breath in response, and you can feel his tears seeping through your tee shirt.

“it’s okay. i’m right here,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice from cracking. your fingers still card through his hair as you lean down and plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. this whole quest has been a pot of emotions, and it seems like it’s finally boiled over the edge, for both you and luke. you want to let your guard down, and crumple to the floor and sob, but you don’t. luke needs you right now.

a few minutes pass by, but he calms down. he sits up straight, arms still holding you in a vice grip. “i’m sorry,” he mumbled, and you aren’t sure what he’s apologizing for. “there’s nothing to apologize for. i’m here to support you, whatever that looks like,” you explained, cupping his jaw with a small reassuring smile on your face. “will you just sit outside the door? i need to know you’re there,” he said, reverting back to the original conversation. “whatever you want,” you answered. once the words leave your mouth, his arms unravel from your waist. you step back, giving him room to stand. he pulls you right into his chest. “we’ll talk later,” he promised, waiting for your hum of agreement to let go.

“shower. you reek,” you teased, trying to bring some joy back into the depressing atmosphere. he finally cracks a smile as he pretends to smell his underarms. “a shower is a good call,” he agreed, lightly pushing you towards the door, a sign that he wants to get changed. you obliged, leaving the room just as the sound of gushing water arises.

luke takes his time in the shower, letting the water drip down his clean body. he knows you’re sitting right outside the door, just like you promised, because he could hear your soft humming and mutterings. he was angry, and he refused to let that anger out on you. instead, it stews inside of him; all the resentment, annoyance, and disappointment. he was supposed to come back a hero, they all were. instead, he’s returning a failure, and with one less friend. he thinks about his father, who recycled a quest from the history lessons at camp and refused to help. he thinks of you, his pillar of strength. he thinks of beth, hoping that she reached elysium, where she belonged. his mind wanders back to camp half-blood, and the faces of his siblings and all the unclaimed children fill him with dread. what will they think, now that they’re head counselor failed?

“are you almost done?” you asked, pulling him from the depths of his mind. he shakes his head gently, water spraying from his soaked curls. “just finishing up,” he answered, turning the water off. “i put your pajamas on the sink,” you replied, closing the door so he has some semblance of privacy. “thanks,” he answered, and the sound of the opening curtain muffled your reply. he takes a couple extra minutes to dry off and pull on his pants, purposefully leaving the shirt to the side.

“okay i’m decent,” he shouted, and the door cracked open. he sees you standing there with your eyes closed, and he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. “i told you i was decent!” he laughed, and you opened your eyes with a giggle. “i just had to make sure,” you replied, your usual smile encompassing your cheeks. he playfully shakes his head at your words. “whatever you say,” he said, and reclaimed his seat on the toilet lid.

you took your spot between his legs, and his hands found their home on your waist. “this might hurt, and take a while because i have to go slow, but it’ll help you heal,” you said, holding up the needle with a shaky hand. luke grabbed your wrist, steadying the shaking. “hey, it’s gonna be fine. i trust you,” he mumbled, placing a soothing kiss on your palm. “i know, but i hate seeing you hurt,” you answered, taking a deep breath. finally, once you’ve calmed down, you begin stitching up the wound. luke remained still through the entire process, but you could see the pain in his eyes. in a matter of minutes, and with the quick snip of the scissors, you tied off the stitches.

“done,” you announced, tapping on his forearm. luke thanks you, and gets you from his spot, admiring his reflection in the mirror. “handsome as ever,” you whispered, heat creeping up your cheeks when you realize he heard you. he blushes at your words, but still manages to throw a cocky smirk your way. he doesn’t comment on your words, instead he pushes you towards the shower. “get cleaned up so we can sleep,” he mumbled, closing the door on his way out. you’re frozen, forgetting how to function, but once you regroup, you take the time to shower.

it’s longer than usual, but you deserved it after everything this quest has put you through. while you’re standing under the showerhead, letting the water wash over you in waves, you can’t help but blame yourself. everything that went wrong could be pinpointed back to you. you and beth were supposed to take care of the dragon, but you were distracted by your worry, turning to check on luke. in that split second, everything went downhill from there. you should have just remained focused, followed the plan, and none of this would have happened.

“i think you should get out of the shower now, before the motel sends us their water bill,” luke whispered, opening the door to the bathroom. you clear your throat, blinking harshly. were your cheeks wet from the water or tears? “i’ll be out in a minute,” you promised, and luke agreed. once the door closed, and you were back in the privacy of the bathroom, you stepped out of your sanctuary. it’s when you dried yourself off that you realize you forgot to grab your sleepwear, but thankfully luke had you covered. sitting on the bathroom counter were a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, along with your hairbrush. you felt yourself smiling gratefully at the gesture, and started your nightly routine.

he heard the sound of the door opening before he saw you. you were wearing the clothes he’d laid out, and your hair was dripping wet, despite your efforts to dry it. you threw the towel on the floor, letting it sit in a sopping wet heap, before climbing into the bed. he didn’t think you’d comment on the fact that the motel manager seemed to be playing matchmaker, and he was right. you lied down silently, pulling the covers up to your chest as you turned to face him.

“it’s all my fault,” you whispered, eyes glossing over as you looked at him. luke’s eyebrows furrowed, and a confused look took over his previously serene face. “what?” he replied, uncertainly. “everything with beth, your scar, the quest. it’s all my fault,” you continued. he was baffled by the fact that you genuinely believed that. something of this caliber, of his undoing, was not your fault. “why would you think that?” he asked, genuine curiosity present in his tone. “i was supposed to distract the dragon, we both were, but i was nervous. i looked away for just a second, and the dragon maimed beth. then came for you,” you answered, voice cracking and shaking. luke’s hand cupped your cheek, wiping away at the lone tear before it could drip down the bridged of your nose.

“beth died a hero, she knew what she was signing up for,” he whispered, thumb rubbing over the apple of your cheek. he wanted to reassure you that none of it was your fault, that nobody would blame you for what happened, that he didn’t blame you. “the blame doesn’t fall on you,” luke continued, staring softly into your eyes. “never,” he finished, kissing the tip of your nose.

“but she’s gone. and your quest…” you trailed off, more tears brimming at your water line. “my quest was stupid anyway,” he replied, pulling you closer to him. “it was never serious. not to him,” and luke didn’t need to specify who the him was. “but it was important to you,” you said, finally meeting his brown eyes, “so it was important to me.” luke sighed at your words, his eyelashes fanning his cheekbones. “you’re the most important thing to me angel. i’ve stopped craving his approval long before this,” luke explained.

he wished that he kept his closed so that he didn’t have to see the shocked look on your face. or the pity flashing behind your eyes. he knew, deep-down, that you didn’t pity him, you just felt bad for everything he’s faced. you felt guilty for the relationship with your parent, when he had none.

“he loves you luke, you must know that. maybe not as much as i do, but there has to be some compassion there,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled your foreheads together. “nobody can love me as much as you do,” luke whispered, lips ghosting over your skin from the proximity. “of course not, angel,” you answered, closing your eyes. he knew the stress of the quest and day was taking over you, so he let you fall into the arms of hypnos.

when you were really asleep, he whispered the words he’d been dying to say: “i love you.”

the way i am not strong enough to be your man // always an angel, never a god

#luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you #pjo luke #percy jackon and the olympians #cobrakaisb writing

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wickedsrest-rp · 3 months

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Name: Ophelia Species: Nymph (Hesperide) Occupation: Barback at The Mushroom Circle Age: 23 Years Old Played By: Elliott Face Claim: Erana James

"Everyone’s a fucking self-serving liar in this town."

TW: Parental death

Ophelia lived on a knife’s edge, she and her mother prepared to pick up and run at a moment’s notice. They were pursued by a relentless warden for the first few years of her life, and even the decade they spent in Mexico felt a lot more temporary than it was, instilling a rigid paranoia in her mother and putting her on edge around others, always careful with her words, unsure who might take them back to the man who had been looking for them. It did make her curious, though, and the more time passed without so much as a whisper of him, the more she wanted to know who he was, why he hunted them so, and if he couldn’t be reasoned with. Everyone could be reasoned with, she thought. Everyone could see the light, if they were shown the way.

But then he was back, his associate showing up at their home and scaring them off again, driving them north. It wasn’t until they found an aos sí, Hemlock Ridge, that took them in that Ophelia and her mother finally felt safe, and they settled in the mountains near a Maine town for a while without incident. Life was good, and Ophelia’s mother finally started to relax a bit. Ophelia made trips down into town to better familiarize herself with the culture of this part of north America, learning quickly and finding that she loved all the amenities they lacked up in the mountains. For a while, she was toying with the idea of getting her own place in town, but her mother was very against it.

And then he showed up again, her estranged father, and they felt the fear of his close proximity once more. Her mother wanted to run, but Ophelia begged her to stay, insisting that they were safe in the aos sí… and this would be her chance, wouldn’t it? To confront him and get him to stop hunting them. She could show him the light.

It worked, albeit slowly. She had to rely heavily on his brother to get through to him, but he seemed to come around to her point of view and even agreed to spend more time with her, to get to know the family he’d never known. Her mother was furious when she found out, but Ophelia was able to eventually convince her that it was safe.

How wrong she was.

After her father showed up at the aos sí, gravely injured and half-dead, she and her mother took him in and helped him regain his health. Not everyone in the fae community agreed with this decision, and some thought it was too dangerous to have a warden living among them, even if he’d been severely handicapped by his injuries. They never trusted him to not turn on them. One morning, Ophelia found her mother dead, her father missing, and a note left behind by those unhappy fae saying that they had decided to take care of the problem themselves. Ophelia had her entire family ripped from her hands in one fell swoop, by fae, and there was a seething hatred in her heart as she abandoned the community to find the ones that had taken her father and killed her mother.

She’s moved into town like she always wanted, though it now lacks the joy and freedom it could have once had. She also got a job at a fae bar, putting her ear to the ground to see if anyone else in the town has heard anything about the group of missing mountain fae and the one-legged warden that is their prisoner. She won’t rest until she finds them and kills them herself, and since they haven’t yet returned to Hemlock Ridge, her search continues. If there happens to be any other fae she meets along the way doing equally abhorrent things, well… the girl’s got a taste for justice.

Character Facts:

Personality: Headstrong, passionate, defensive, stalwart, ornery, attentive, short-fused

Ophelia is the now-known daughter of Everett Tangaroa in relevant circles. This can set some fae against her, fae that were wronged by the old warden, and it can encourage some hunters to treat her more like an equal. Though the warden’s whereabouts are currently unknown, that’s not much of a change from the norm, so she’s been able to use this connection to her advantage to get out of a few sticky situations.

She has several hand-to-hand weapons that she inherited from her father, and even though iron will burn her if she handles it incorrectly, she still keeps an iron knife on her at all times.

She lives in a tiny studio apartment above Tinkerbells & Whistles on Amity Road. It doesn’t get very much light so she doesn’t like staying there often, and can sometimes be found on the roof of the building during the day, trying to absorb as much of the sun’s rays as she can.

Ophelia has become just as paranoid as her parents were, slow to trust and quick to violent anger. Still, she does try to talk her way out of situations when she can, and she’s not above making stupid snap decisions.

Despite being a nymph and therefore intrinsically connected to nature, this hesperide has an unusual dislike of most animals that are kept as pets. Cats are probably evil, dogs need too much attention, and everything else is just pointless to keep around. They should be in the wild, anyway.

#erana james #parental death tw #retired

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astraiios · 2 years

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the mortal sun has risen and set a thousand thousand times, and astraeus younger titan god of the stars, the winds, and the art of astrology is yet bound to the earthly realm, the reincarnation loop continues. this time their mortal coil has taken the shape of michiel huisman, a human born on 22nd of february, 1987, a pisces and named nicholas valk.

NAME. nicholas valk. AGE. thirty five. BIRTHDAY. february 22, 1987. GENDER. cis male. PRONOUNS. he / him. SEXUALITY. bisexual. ZODIAC. pisces. OCCUPATION. owner of aether’s planetarium & space museum; space science professor at queensland university. HOMETOWN. groningen, netherlands. RESIDENCE. hesperides villas, magnetic island. PETS. cosmo, a spotted great dane. ABILITIES. increased vitality and balance at dusk, mood changes can influence the weather at night and the position of constellations. FULL POWERS. manipulation of the stars and constellations at will, harnessing energy from the planets and manipulationg of the sky and its weather during nightime.

≿ ☆ ┊ 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ┊ ☽ ≾

born to a long line of high profile dutch politicians, lawyers, “important people” as his father used to say; nicholas has always been the odd one out. he’s the youngest of three ( one of which is his fraternal twin, the eldest is the only child of his father’s first marriage ) but, unlike his siblings and everyone else he knows, he’s never been interested in politics, the law or in being known... ever since he can remember his head has been up in the clouds, lost amongst the stars and the other worlds that could exist out there.

he was lucky though, even though his father didn’t understand him and sometimes belittled him for wanting different. his mother, despite also being “important” ( born from old money, a lawyer ) loved him no matter what, she was the one that stood up for him whenever his father lost his temper; the one that supported him and bought the first telescope ( one he still cherished to this day ) and told him he could do anything he set his heart to. everything his father refused to give him, his mother was more than happy to provide and it was thanks to that that he became the man he is today.

money has never been something he never lacked, since even though his dad would’ve loved to disown him he cared about his image and what other people would say way too much ( something both him and his mother used against him ). he got enough from him to stay out of their way and do his thing somewhere else. while his mother gave him the rest.

it was this distance with his father the one that, after the inevitable divorce that no one could stop talking about for years, made him decide to go live with his mother. and he hasn’t had any contact with his father ever since ( other than the mandatory christmas card and birthday present ). it was different, yes, but also liberating in some ways. there was no longer this overwhelming pressure demanding for him to be different from what he knew he was.

his mother encouraged him to follow his passion, always saying that his “head in the clouds” and sensible persona were things he shouldn’t have to change for anyone. they moved together to magnetic island when he was around 17 years old, right after he finished high school in the netherlands.

content warning: mentions of death, mentions of car accident.

after that he decided to go to college and study astronomy. though right in the middle of his studies his life took a turn when his mother passed away in a car accident, it was so unexpected he had no idea what to do. nicholas inherited 65% of all her assets, since she wanted to make sure he’d have everything he needed to follow his dreams. but, truth be told he’d have given it all up just to see her again.

he took a break from his studies, a year where he almost lost himself. he never got over it, really, but after realizing he was becoming someone he wasn’t... he was slowly learning how to get back on his feet. he started studying. finishing his degree in astronomy and continuing his education with a masters in astrophysics and space sciences, as well as a phd in his field.

it was then that he decided to move back into magnetic island full time. ( before that he’d only come during summer breaks or when he had enough time ) established his own business: aether’s planetarium & space museum. and was accepted as a teacher of space science at queensland university.

as far as personality goes he’s very amiable, a true gentleman really. though he does come off as detached since he finds it difficult to open up. definitely a workaholic, could talk about the space and stars forever if anyone gives him the chance. he’s clearly the kind of person that loves what he does.

he tends to keep things to himself, which makes him a bit secretive; but once he’s close to someone he’s loyal to no end. very sensible and in tune with his emotions even though he doesn’t exactly like it.

not very close with his dad’s side of his family. and had a bit of a strained relationship with his older sibling, and a ‘could be better’ relationship with his twin.

other than that is very content with the way things are going for him at the moment and is creating his own life!

#≿ ☆ ┊ 𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐊 ┊ ☽ ⊰ ❝ about. ❞ ≾#eternal! intro #mentions of death cw #mentions of car accident cw #/ there we go finally !#why do intros take me so long damn #make it make sense

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abookishdreamer · 2 years

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Character Intro: Notus (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Lord of the South Wind by the people of Olympius

The Heat by Chi & Aphrodite

Age- 18 (immortal)

Location- Paros, Olympius

Personality- He's very fiery with a quick temper. He's also very energetic, adventurous, & outgoing. He's straight and currently single.

Being the god of summer (and the south wind), he has many abilities. He has the ability to fly, due to his large bright orange wings. He also has the ability of psammokinesis (to control/generate sand), photokinesis, heat immunity, and pyrokinesis (his flame burning a bright orange). He also has limited hydrokinesis and is innately stronger during sunny days. He can induce heat stroke/dehydration to his opponents & he always emits an aura of heat, making others around him start sweating. He can shapeshift into a pegasus as well as communicate with them.

Notus lives in a spacious beach house (on his own private beach). There's also a nearby horse farm. Inside his house, there's a continuous warm breeze blowing and a thin layer of sand on the light wooden floors. His bed (& those of the guest rooms) are hammocks. There's a MASSIVE kitchen island with most of the furniture being made out of wicker, wood, or being woven.

He loves his brothers and is especially close to Zephyrus (god of the west wind). He's currently estranged from Boreas (god of the north wind). Notus has a good relationship with his mom Eváeros (goddess of air & zodiacs). She's often his cloud surfing companion and he loves when she makes the ultra fluffy ambrosia salad!

Notus has a good friendship with Iris & doesn't want his brother to break up with her. He especially likes when the three of them go surfing with them stopping by The Frozen Spoon afterwards, enjoying strawberry sorbets.

His go-to drink is a bellini. He also enjoys beer, pineapple mojitos, mai tais, and a sex on the beach (a drink made with vodka, peach schnapps, grenadine, orange juice, & cranberry juice). His usual from The Roasted Bean are olympian sized fruit punch splashes & iced tea.

He also loves snacking on strawberries, peaches, and watermelon.

For work (aside from working for Zeus), Notus also models for Bow + Arrow & Cerulean Stone. He has also released his debut signature cologne (Wild Heat).

In the pantheon he's good friends with Delphin (god of dolphins), Apollo (god of the sun, music, poetry, healing, medicine, archery, plague, light, & knowledge), The Hesperides, Phaenna (goddess of jewels), Horme (god of energy), Chrysos (god of gold & riches), Aphrodite (goddess of love & beauty), Dionysus (god of wine), Méli (goddess of bees & honey), Himeros (god of impetuous love), Eos (Titaness of dawn), Hemera (goddess of the day), Zelus (god of envy, jealousy, & zeal), Eupraxia (goddess of well-being & success), Calliope (muse of epic poetry), Pothos (god of longing & yearning), Auxo (goddess of summer, vegetation, & plants), Adranos (god of fire), Erato (muse of love poetry), Aeolus (god of wind), Euterpe (muse of music & lyric poetry), Terpischore (muse of dance), Polyhymnia (muse of hymns), Thalia, and Euphrosyne.

A favorite trip of his was when he along with Adranos, Zeph, and Zelus rode their go-karts along the sand dunes.

A favorite frozen treat of his is strawberry ice cream!

Notus is well known for throwing some of the best summer parties! One of these parties resulted in a one night stand with Pannychis (goddess of nightlife festivities).

He's also the host of the annual Summer Solstice Ball that takes place at the palace on Mt. Olympus.

His favorite meal is garden vegetable rice (with grilled salmon steaks and avocado salsa). He also loves spicy chicken fajitas, shrimp scampi, & a large margherita pizza.

In his free time Notus enjoys being at the beach surfing. He also enjoys playing his ukulele, swimming, tennis, jet-skiing, playing video games, sunbathing, sailing, volleyball, & football (soccer).

"Everything becomes alive on a summer night."

#my oc #my oc character #my character #oc character #oc intro #character intro #oc introduction #character introduction #modern greek gods #modern greek mythology #greek myth retellings #greek gods #greek mythology #greek pantheon

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ma1dita · 3 months

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somebody's angel

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) descriptions of gore/injury The one where you convince him he’s pretty, even with a scar. The aftermath of helping Luke heal from Hesperides. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: lyrics from ‘die alone’ by finneas <3 this was originally titled angel face, devilish smile in the masterpost but much has changed since then! lil reminder Mr. D’s kids have violet eyes and god this has heavy foreshadowing; as usual, scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(posted 2/25/24, edited!)

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[ i wasn't lookin' for you || but you found me, you found me || just as the smoke filled the room in the valley ]

Isn’t it funny that when your dreams finally come true it's never in the way you want?

You’ve decided that if you ever make it out of here alive you’re never stepping another foot in San Francisco. There are so many other places to vacation, ones closer to home and without hundred-headed dragons. Granted, the city is beautiful with its winding roads, bustling crowds and oh, Annabeth would love the architecture—but you weren’t really able to admire much as you ran down the marble stepping stones leading to Luke’s body splayed across the grass.

Holy shit, he better not be dead.

He’s always had a habit of running off without telling you, and well, this was the farthest thing from a vacation. Luke was so sure he’d make his father proud by getting sent off on a solo quest by Hermes—his ultimate test for glory. Everyone revered him and applauded his charisma and confidence in getting these damn golden apples, but staring at them now from afar didn’t convince you of the appeal. Putrid smoke fills your lungs as you cough, the sensation like acid rain grappling your senses as you watch Luke slash his sword toward Ladon one final time before toppling over like a shot bird. You’re crawling to reach him, using your jacket to wipe at your watering eyes and the monster’s shadow envelops both of your hunched forms as you shake him awake. It can’t end like this for him, you won’t let it happen.

This is not a hero’s death, but an idiot’s.

“Luke!” you scream, “if you’re dead, I’ll fucking kill you!”

There’s so much blood covering him that you wonder if he has any left in his body. It pools around his slashed back, making the grass around him dark with his life force. For a moment, you worry you’re too late. Ladon roars above you, piercing your eardrums as you stifle a whimper and bury your face in his chest—but if you stay here with him and accept your fate, the both of you will be dead in minutes. You’ve never been one to give up, and neither has he.

As his vision darkens, he realizes you’re holding onto him for dear life, Luke's sword in your dominant hand and his dead weight against the other. It’s almost as if you need him more than he needs you, and the thought is comforting in comparison to the molten hot pain running through his body. The wafting aroma of the golden apples continues to permeate the air, reflecting his deepest desires. Desperation lured him to the dragon and its protected fruit, and for it, he almost met his death. Luke was so close to glory that he could smell it–he imagined it smelling like burnt cookies and the clothes of an ancient traveler. Salvation was supposed to be crisp and light in his mouth, but now it feels like biting into shards of glass. Through the garden’s miasma, his legs wobble in your embrace as you try to inch away from certain doom.

“Trouble? You’re not supposed to be here,” he croaks, “can’t see me like this…Gotta..”

Luke’s words come out in a wheeze as the bloodied hand he lays on your shoulder sticks to your shirt.

“I’m here, I’m here…”

Fire licks at your heels, your blood almost boiling in your veins as you try to pull him to look at you, but still he’s determined, almost knocking you off balance as his arms reach towards the tree in visions of glimmering gold and glory. Through his one good eye, he can see you lunge at the dragon, swinging the bronze like it’s an extension of yourself, and then you scream, dropping the weapon as the sizzle of singed flesh echoes through the air.

You’re hurt, and it’s because of him.

Steadily losing control over his body, he decides to make one last move as life seeps out of him in steps: first his hearing–he watches you say something he can’t make out; what’s left of his blood spills out of his mouth until he chokes it out in a gurgle.

“Luke, we have to leave! We’re going to die here!”

Luke sways closer to the dragon even as you try your hardest to pull him away from the tree but by the gods, he’s stubborn, wrath emanating from his injured body like an unwelcome friend. If this is his last action on Earth, it will be to protect you. Once he finds it again, he’s convinced his fingertips are soldered onto the hilt of his sword---losing the sensation of his burnt fingertips as he slashes at the one thing between him and his father’s love. Ladon recoils, sharp claws scrambling back to the tree as your hands meld into his wounded form like clay. Luke easily misses the bloodied claw that remains at your feet.

Please, he prays to anyone who will listen, I’m right fucking here! Don’t let me fail, PLEASE. Luke’s brain is still muddled with the magic, but for some reason, his mind has never been clearer. The scent of the air shifts into that of raspberries and soft linen as his body staggers back into the grass. His vision darkens in a vignette, encircling him as he looks away from the golden fruit and into your violet irises, and then, nothing.

[ you asked me, "do you wanna die alone, or watch it all burn down together?” || I said I'd rather try to hold on to you forever ]

Luke wakes up before you, though by the looks of his bandaged body and the pounding in his head, he must have been out for a while. You’re asleep on the floor of the sleeper train facing away from him using your backpack as a pillow and your legs curled underneath you like a purring cat. The purple zippo lighter your dad gave you is nestled against your foot and he uses it to ward off the cabin you’re in, in hopes of continuing whatever illusion you put on to get his mangled body onto public transportation without any questions. The perks of being children of mischief. He flicks the lighter on and off, blood seeping through his bandaged fingers. If this is what he looks like after your stock of ambrosia… he can’t help but be scared to see what’s underneath.

His eyes blink to adjust to the darkness of the carriage, pupils unfocused from an obvious concussion. The water canister falls over with a loud clang, jolting you awake.

“Fuck…” you mumble, turning over to look at him drenched in melancholy and moonlight, “Are you okay? I think I have a bit more ambrosia, let me—”

He grabs your hands tightly, so much that it hurts him.

“You shouldn’t have been there.”

Shaking your head, you sigh. This was never going to be easy, what comes after. He’d been knocked out for two days, screaming in his sleep. He’ll never know what you’ve been through together to get on this train, and you’re not sure of what he remembers.

“But I was. And we’re alive.”

Tossing his hands aside, you rummage through your pack for the little ambrosia you have left, giving him a piece and almost forcing it into his mouth. If he doesn’t want you to be gentle, he can take you tough. There’s no way out of this where you let him hurt himself more, after that.

“You used my sword. I’ve never seen you use a sword before,” he scoffs, swaying in his seat. Luke’s confused above all his other emotions right now, trying to rub at his eyes until you pull his hand away. There’s a bandage that spans across the right side of his face.

That’s why it’s so dark.

“I usually don’t, but we were up against a dragon, dumbass. We’re lucky we’re not dead. I’m grateful that you’re not dead,” you say in a strained voice, holding both of his hands. He wonders why you sound like you’re hurting too, until his good eye falls upon your open rucksack.

“Are the apples in there? We gotta meet my dad,” Luke slurs, and you bite your lip in frustration, “he’s gonna be proud of me. I know it.”

“There’s no apples, Luke. We’re going home.”

He cringes, his back hitting the wall as he looks at you like you’ve told him you've eaten them or something.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he sneers, his voice getting louder now as he says your name. Luke pushes your hands away, kicking his feet up to his chest, and you know the actions have reopened some of his wounds. He’s burning up again, from both the fever and your touch, and you take a deep breath to hold back a sob. Your emotions will only amplify his, you remind yourself.

“Luke, you failed your quest. There was no way you would have succeeded.”

Your words hit him like bullets, and he shakes his head, clawing his way through his bandages like he wants to escape from his own skin. To escape from the fate of being the pride and joy of Hermes. You wrap yourself around him through his pain and yours as he thrashes, though these wounds transcend the physical, and the scars will forever run deep.

“I fucking hate you!” he sobs, “you weren't supposed to be there! You were only going to get hurt.”

Tears mix with blood as you hold him, hands clenched in the shirt on his back at his misplaced anger.

“So fucking stupid!”

His body shakes with rage as he pounds at whatever he can touch, and you take the blows until finally, you yell exasperatedly, “It was a suicide mission, Luke! Get it through your fucking head!”

You push him away to grab his face and make him look at you. He realizes your hand is bandaged when it touches the smooth side of his face. It’s about as wide as a hilt and covers your palm.

“ Your dad sent you there to die. I wasn’t gonna let that happen,” you grit, and he won’t stop crying until he mutters something under his breath.

“I’m so stupid. Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

A fat tear rolls down your cheek mimicking the ripped skin on his newly exposed face. You haven’t had much practice with emotions this strong and only the gods know how desperate you feel right now as you pull out more bandages from the bag and will away his hysteria as best as you can. Until finally, his eyes flutter closed and you help him lay on his side.

You never pray, especially to your dad and especially not fucking Hermes, but you’re already in enough trouble for leaving without telling anyone—so perhaps they’re listening extra carefully. Perhaps D will answer your Iris message too and get you out of this mess. Perhaps Hermes, the god of travelers will at least get you both home safely. It's the least he can do after everything you and Luke have been through. Pulling out a drachma from your coin purse, you realize two things: your fingers are glued together with Luke’s blood, and he hasn’t let go of your other hand.

“The only person I’d get bloody for is you, Castellan,” you sigh, gently leaning against the bed he made and now lies in.

Only your dad answered.

[ this was the place i grew up, now it's ashes to ashes || memories fillin' my cup, it comes in flashes || but when it passes and i see your eyes || i know there's nothin' i'll ever find better ]

You’ve been roommates in the basement of the Big House for about a week and a half now, and cabin fever was making the both of you a bit stir-crazy. At first, he wouldn’t talk to you, simmering in his personal pool of misery, until he ripped his stitches open one night and you had to tend to them since your father was dead asleep. The slashes on his back looked like slots for angel wings. Chiron and Mr. D tended to the both of you since Luke insisted on not having anyone else see what’s become of him. You’re certain everyone thinks you’re dead. Peeking through the window, you wish you could see the blaze left behind in your absence. With Luke on his quest, you were down a counselor in charge of the busiest cabin; with you missing—well you’re surprised everything hasn’t gone up in flames. You ask your dad to bring Annabeth to come see you, and when Luke argues, you clarify that she’s your guest.

He’s still not talking to you, even as Annabeth speaks loudly through the privacy curtain that Chiron set up so you both don’t fight. Your bickering kept your dad up one too many times and he was about to send the both of you into induced comas.

“It’s like the two of you came back and something’s different,” Annie says inquisitively, eyes flickering to the dusty curtain between your beds. She’s made herself comfortable at your feet and stolen your pillow to rest over her lap.

“This doesn’t feel any different. Your brother’s still an asshole, we’re just trauma bonded now,” you say with a lazy grin, and you think you hear him curse you to Tartarus under his breath. You shrug when she rolls her eyes, dark braided hair splaying over her shoulders.

“You came back friends, then,” she hypothesizes, and Annabeth is always right, but you hesitate now, rubbing the thick skin on your palm.

“Are you saying we weren’t? What a surprise…” you mumble, before you nudge her to try again.

“You saved his life,” Annabeth whispers, leaning in closer like that was a secret to keep, and even if Luke can’t hear it, you shake your head.

“Honestly, he saved mine.”

The silence hangs between you two, the both of your eyes falling upon the dragon claw sitting on the side table partially covered by the curtain.

“I’m glad you two are back,” she says softly, reaching for your hand and tracing your scarred palm.

“We’re glad to be back, even if it doesn’t seem like it,” you giggle, pulling her into a hug before you joke, “Can’t believe I left a 10-year-old in charge. Bet the other counselors hated that.”

The curtain rips open, grating against the pole, and with one look from Luke, Annabeth gets up to give you two privacy.

“We? Since when were you two a we?” she mutters, and with the little strength he has, he softly ruffles her head and shoves her to the doorway. After she leaves, he looks at you tentatively, bandaged hands fidgeting with his blanket until you take the hint and make your way over to his bed. Slotting yourself underneath his arm, you settle against him with a sigh and the weight of you against his ribs is comforting despite the ache. Most of your wounds are healed on the surface level now, and soon it’ll be time to get back to your normal routines. That’s the difficult part about all of this, Luke thinks—hoping everyone just brushes his blunder under the rug and wishing that everything stays the same.

But Annabeth is always right, and there are a lot of things that have changed since he left for San Francisco. He can feel it even if his fingerprints won’t ever completely heal, he can see it even through his scarred eye, and he just knows by the way you press a soft kiss to his healing cheek, breathing hot air that gives him goosebumps. This is his reality, a blessing to have after his brush with death even if it wasn’t exactly what he expected. Though it wasn’t your intention, there’s glory in the quirk of your smile as you murmur, “Honestly? Between me and you, I hate this place.”

[ i think i'd rather die alone, together || ‘cause i know that i will love you, and i'm not letting go ]

Luke thought it was bad enough for everyone to coddle him after you both emerged from the darkness of the basement, but to be honest—it’s worse that everyone’s being fake about it. At least with pity, they aren’t trying to hide away what they truly feel. He’s been hiding away in the armory for several days now, trying to tinker away at random things though it’s not his expertise, and the Hephaestus kids are too polite to push him out. Anything to make his weapon swifter and precise—but deep down he knows there’s nothing wrong with the damn sword. It doesn’t feel the same in his hands anymore, badly scarred and out of practice. He actually struggled sparring with Chris, though his brother was kind enough to act like it was a draw.

A groan escapes him as he almost hammers his thumb. Flexing his fingers, he looks at Ladon’s scale in the light of the little fires surrounding him. Its copper gleam was forever forged into a pendant that shouldn’t have taken him that long to fashion. Previously good at everything, Luke was suddenly down to limited talents.

For fuck’s sake.

“Luke? Hey, I've been trying to find you everywhere!”

Your head pops in through the doorway, holding a box of miscellaneous things as you skirt around the armory, trying to not bump into other campers’ work.

“Hey…”

You nod your head and place the box in his lap, the necklace still clenched in his grasp as he stands up to help you carry it wherever you want to go. You’ve been asking him for help with a lot of things lately, and though it’s mostly menial tasks he knows you can be done with in a snap, he often uses you as a chance to escape from prying eyes and hushed whispers. With you, there are no false pretenses or bluffs to save his ego.

It’s just you.

He helps you carry the box across the camp and to the attic of the Big House, the wooden stairs creaking under your heavy footsteps as you pick things out of the box and organize them to be placed around the room. Hundreds of memorabilia and war spoils decorate the walls as you hum a tune under your breath. This time it’s a song from Wicked, you tell him and he gets so lost in your story about two witches being changed for good that he almost misses you placing Ladon’s claw out for display. His hand reaches out for yours and you both stand there in the dust of completed quests and found glory.

“That doesn’t belong here,” he sighs, and you let him run his rough fingers over the obsidian.

“It’s a feat of strength. Whether you recognize it or not, you should be proud of it. Even Heracles couldn’t—”

He interrupts you, “Why? Why did you follow me there?”

You lick your lips and his eyes trace the movement because he’s scared to look up and see the truth. You’d never lie to him. The both of you are too good at lying to even try it with each other.

“Tell me why. Did you think I couldn't do it?”

You tilt his chin up with your dominant hand, and for the first time in a while, your eyes truly meet. You speak slowly as if begging him to understand the words that come from your mouth. He needs to understand that this was not his fault. Fate dealt him with bad cards, and he did his best.

“What I thought was that it was unfair…what your dad was asking of you. You and I both know that it was,” you explain, “ I was worried about you. You might not agree with me but that’s how I felt.”

Luke tries to argue, you can feel it in the way he quirks his brow and your finger covers his lips to hush him.

“Nuh-uh. You can’t take that away from me so shut it. I’m already grounded and shoveling horse shit for the next few months, angelface.”

Still, you’re smiling, and he wonders why.

“What did you just call me?"

“Come on, you know you’re still pretty, right? Everyone at camp thinks the whole rugged hero thing is kind of hot,” you giggle, poking his stomach. He rolls his eyes, shoving you away from him until your hip hits the corner of the table.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Ouch, that hurt, asshole!”

Holding your hip with your hand, you lurch towards him, dominant hand pressing against his torso— and you can feel his laughter rumble from underneath your fingers like static shocks. You’ve missed the sound like you’ve missed breathing easily.

“I thought it was angelf— what’s this?”

Luke finally notices the thick raised skin on your palm in the shape of the hilt of his sword. It’s seared onto you forever.

“You’re thinking too hard again. I’m okay,” you mumble, closing your hand around his, “we’re okay. These scars are just souvenirs. They’re a part of us now, but they don’t define us.”

His hands drop to his pocket with a sigh as he looks to the floor.

“Hey. Bold question, but do you think I’m ugly because of it?”

Luke’s head whips up and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief—that’s the stupidest thing you’ve said all day, and he usually likes to keep count to piss you off.

“Trouble, of course no—”

“Then you better believe me when I say you’re pretty. Not perfect, thankfully, your ego needed to get knocked down a peg but you still have the face of an ang—”

He shoves the necklace he tinkered into your scarred hand and your eyes glitter with admiration.

“Not perfect, but pretty,” he swallows, as the both of you look at the dented copper scale, shining in the sunlight. Your hand reaches out to cup his scarred cheek, smiling in silent thanks because there’s nothing either of you can say sufficient and fitting for the worth you see in each other--- even if the gods beg to differ. Luke turns his head gently, pressing his lips against your rough palm and the warmth it brings simmers down to where your spirit meets your bones.

[ if the sky darkens above you, i'll stay by your side in the afterglow || i wasn't lookin' for you, but you found me ]

“I thought we were out here for sword training,” he mumbles, following you closely through the dirt path. It was after dinner and you dragged him by the hand towards the camp boundaries. You’re both skipping out on the bonfire and sing-a-long, but well… they can all fend for themselves for a few hours.

“Like I'd dare teach an old dog new tricks. Ladon or not you’re still the best of us. No one would dare wield a sword against you, oh mighty Luke Castellan!” you say mockingly.

Being out here alone and so close to curfew is a risk you’re willing to take, and you know your dad’s running out of so-called punishments so literally who cares? So you stole the car too. You both stand in front of it now as you unlock it and toss him the keys. Luke fumbles and almost drops them as he looks at you bemusedly.

“Shouldn’t we be back before sundown?”

He settles into the driver’s seat easily, testing the different functions as you watch his eyes move quickly with wonder. The car rolls forward a few inches before nestling against a grassy patch and it makes you raise an eyebrow.

“You scared? If a hellhound comes to get us, maybe you’ll be brave enough to hit the gas. You drive like my grandpa and he’s long dead.”

He scoffs, tapping the gas pedal almost reluctantly before you reach out and fix his rearview mirror. Apollo’s job is almost over for the day, light fading into pinks and purples and though he’s meant to figure out how to get the car onto the road smoothly, Luke can’t help but be transfixed by the image of you framed in the soft light. You are almost one with the sky, sun-kissed and as real as a dream come true. He wonders why people always wish for things they can’t have when everything they need is often right in front of them. Maybe things have changed indeed.

“You can’t say stuff like that.”

He flicks the radio on to something he thinks you like, and he grins when in between your laughter you start vocalizing with the strum of the guitar.

“Why not?” you ask, with a gleam of mischief in your eye. It catches him off guard at how natural you seem when you’re breaking rules. He finds himself wishing you did it more often, then realizes you’ve broken a lot of rules for him lately. Mental reminder to apologize to Mr. D eventually.

“It’s bad luck,” he says stupidly, and it makes you laugh. You’re both bobbing your head to the sound of Radiohead playing softly on the speakers.

“Okay son of Hermes, bestowed with the greatest luck in the world, how’s that going for you?”

You speak before you think, as you often do—and for a split second, you’re afraid you’ve overstepped an unspoken boundary. Luke’s face is frozen as he thinks, but he ends up just rolling his eyes. With a deep breath, you continue.

“Besides, I’m sure with the shit we pull up here, Hades is keeping our spots warm for when we decide we need it. I’ll just pray harder I guess.”

There you go saying we again.

“You never fucking pray,” he laughs, pushing your face back towards the window and you swat at his arms playfully. You think he’d make fun of you forever if you told him about how you cried to both your dads that night in the sleeper train. A tight smile crosses your face as you tease, “That’s why I let you do it for me, kiss ass. Now drive.”

He hesitates, bandaged hands flexing over what to do next before you grab his hand over the console and gently rest it on the gear shift.

“We’ll get there, angelface,” you smile softly. The light from the waning sunset makes your eyes sparkle in the dim light of your dad’s old car. Luke tightens his hand over the lever and shifts the gear to drive, steadily moving forward.

“We’ll get there,” he repeats, nodding his head like he’s trying to convince himself.

Healing isn’t a process that feels like flying down the I-95 with the wind in your hair and no speed limit to abide by. Your hand drops toward the leather console but he grabs it again with the intention of not letting go, because quite frankly, he can’t do this without you. And you’ll ride with him through Farm Road and any other thing that comes your way, even if he hits another pothole or his eyes stray from the road—because you said you’d do it together.

With everything in him, he believes you.

—

Let me look at your face and see a heaven worth having. -Ruth Awad

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asher-the-diaster · 3 years

Text

Sister planets part 7

soldiers being diplomatic

this is of course the 7th installment of a series and will make no sense without the other ones. you can find them here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DYMuKK5CIgJgDapNbu5sBqr_b5uT1Yz4pJoJ2fuAk4w/edit?usp=sharing

We found the humans with their breathing masks on refilling thru the burning wreck of the oracle.

“This looks like the wreck of the Hesperides,” captain penner commented, from the side standing on her crutch. I had no clue what that meant.

“Maybe that's because it’s an actual reck?” Oliveria said, continuing to seachthrew the ship.

Did they not notice it was in a containment chamber for health hazards?

“It's a turn of phrase.”

“Will you two stop arguing if I tell you that I found the food?” Richardson said, pulling a box out of the ship with his good arm.

“Probably.” the two who were fighting said at once.

They stepped out of the rubble and began to go through the contents of the box, dividing airtight packages.

“Don't waste it,:” penner said, we could be here for days.

“What are you doing?” I was wearing my diplomatic translator which flittered out a large amount of causes.

“Well you aren’t feeding us so we got the emergency rations form our ship.” Davoin said, jumping down.

“We were feeding you because our scans said you can go weeks without eating. Oh and all of your food is just biohazards or pisones.”

“1 we can’t go that long comfortably. 2. They aren’t really to us at least 3. You really don’t want captain penner doing this whole “diplomacy thing on an empty stomach.” oliverra replied.

“Why not?”

“They and the person that we have the best chance of contacting have made a game of… trying to strangle each other.”

“What!”

“Not really,” penner explained, “it's a siblingly joke.”

“I don’t know the words, siblingy, game or joke. The only part of this I understand is trying to kill somebody.”

“Not literally.”

We made it back to the airlock so the humans could eat a quick “breakfast,” as they called it, then made our way to the lab.

Here we had set up systems that could enter the humans “cellular network” and make contact with the humans, formally.

We had set up two sets, the captain took one, Davoin took the other.

First they made contact with their old pontoon, to tell them most of them had survived the wormhole.

“Most?” the person on the other end asked, “what do mean by that.”

“Lieutenant Mills,” Davion said, “he didn’t survive.”

The other line was silent for a long time.

“How did the rest of you?” the voice finally asked.

“We were saved… by aliens.”

“This isn’t a joke, sergeant!”

“I'm not joking.”

“Where are you? Really?”

“In an alien star station.”

“Sargent! We can’t help you if you're not being serious. And we can’t find your ship on the maps.”

“Because the thing was wrecked in the wormhole.”

“This isn’t funny! Tell me where you are!”

“We're telling you!”

“You know what, just don’t hang up, we will trace this call.” they went on hold.

“Well that was about as productive as expected.” Richardson snarked.

“We had to contact them.” Penner said.

“Why?”

“Because now even though we're still missing in action we aren’t presumed dead.”

“Yes, just presumed troublemakers.”

“Well it’s going to tacka while for them to trace a call from outside of the solar system, might as well do the worst thing.” Penner sighed, “can this tap into two signals at once?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because we need to contact a world leader.”

“How ecstasy are we planning on doing that? We would need some sort of connection that we don’t have.” Richardson asked.

“I know you're the newest member of our team, but dude.” Davoin said.

“What?”

“It’s just obvious how new you are to the team.” oliverra said.

“It's fine, not like I want to advertise it.” Penner said, puting their odd numerals into the system to connect to a specified line.

“Somebody tell me what I'm missing!” Richardson yelled.

I was glad he did so before me.

“You don’t happen to know the name of the Canadian prime minister do you?”

“Mathew Pinner, right?”

“It’s actually Mathew penner.”

“As in captain penner?”

“Exactly.”

“What?” I asked.

“The captain's older brother runs the government in their country.”

The captain pressed the call button.

“Hello this is prime minister penners office, ms smith speaking. How may I help you?”

“July, this is Sam the pm’s younger sibling. I need to talk with him.”

“Look mx. I cannot put you through to the prime minister. He is not currently taking calls due to a family crisis.”

“I’m the family crisis! Please let me talk to him.”

“I’m sorry but I cannot.”

“July please i-” the person on the other end hung up.

“You didn’t happen to have a plan b did you?”

“I don’t understand why my brother hired her, she’s imcomptent.”

Penner bagn to angrily press the buttons again. Into a different combination. Right before she could press the call button however, a voice came on from the other line.

“We were unable to verify your location, we’ll bring you home, just hang tight.” the voice hung up.

“Excellent.”

I shuffled on my paws nervously, these were our best chances and they were not going well. It was my first time running a contact crew and the species refused to make contact.

“One last shoot for this to work.” Penner pressed the call button.

“Hello?” The voice on the other side was raspy and tired.

“Mat, this is sam.”

“That’s just cruel. Look, I don't know who you are or why you think it’s funny to pretend to be people's dead siblings, or how you got your number for that matter, but it's not funny.”

“I can prove that I'm part of your family,” the captain yelled before he could hang up.

“How?”

“Sing the song of the dozos.”

What the hell did that mean?

“Were the weird ones,” the person on the other side said, “proud and tall. It’s really you?”

“Yeah.”

“They told us that you can gone missing through a wormhole. What happened?”

“We were saved by aliens.”

“Please tell me you’re not being serious.”

“I’d be lying.”

“Well you always were good at getting into trouble.”

“We need your help.”

“How?”

“To establish diplomatic contact with earth through the un.”

“Why me?”

“Your prime minister?”

“Oh right that.” the voice on the other side sighed.”I'll see what i can do. Hang tight sammy.”

The call ended.

*+*+*+*

sorry it took me so long to get this installment out. hope it isn't to bad.

#the sister planets #human are weird #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #earth is a death world #earth is space australia

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dracosaurusrex · 3 years

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Found (Draco x Reader)

“ The boy looked at you in awe. There you were right beneath him, as if the universe had orchestrated this scenario perfectly. ”

Summary: When Draco and Y/N find each other after losing one another in their past life.

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Prompt: “I wish we could be together in another life” // “I promise I’ll be looking for you in each one” (From @minty-malfoy 300wc)

A/N: If you saw me frantically post this a number of times, it’s because it wasn’t popping up in the tags :/ Anywayy, I took a chance to retell the myth behind the constellation, Draco and infuse it with the characters. I thought it was fun, and I hope you enjoy reading!

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The skies were painted with pink and orange hues as the sun began to set upon Mount Atlas, home to Hera’s garden. Rooted heavily within it was a beautiful tree. One that bore fruit to sparkling, golden apples. It was a wedding gift from Gaia. A gift so precious that the young goddess had begged for it to be planted in her garden, which was filled with life itself. Lush trees covered its perimeter, flowers of every species bloomed with much radiance, and golden rays of light scattered through every nook and cranny. Lacing through the landscape were small creeks and springs, which nurtured the tree to its prime state of beauty. It is these that the nymphs of the evening, also known as the Hesperides, were entrusted by Hera to tend and protect.

There were three of them: Hesperia, Erytheia, and you, Aigle. You all were a playful bunch who truly loved Hera’s garden. However, moments spent under the sun led to a heightened craving as the golden apples shined with temptation. Enter, Ladon, a grand-looking serpentine dragon who coiled himself around the beautiful tree. Hera had summoned him to protect it after several attempts had been made by you and your sisters to steal some of the fruit for yourselves.

His body was decorated with scales of majestic shades comprising ivory, platinum, silver, and champagne. His talons presented themselves with intimidation, fangs comparable to the size of daggers, and his eyes flashed a striking blue hue filled with a look of ambition and purpose. The creature was the epitome of beauty and fright.

His presence was effective in keeping your sisters away--they scoured at the sight of him--but the case was quite different for you. Instead of being overcome by fear, you found yourself marveling at him. Every time you rose from your slumber, he was always there, zealously fulfilling his task. He was immortal and he never slept, yet his appearance was as just astounding as the day before. Because of this, you took every opportunity possible to be around him, to bask in his presence, to simply admire him. Today was no different.

The grass felt soft under your steps, and the sunset glowed as fervently as ever. You sped through the maze of trees, chasing rays of light as it slowly reduced into a specks. The wind blew through your honey brown locks as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. The golden tree was in sight, and wrapped around it, like always, was beautiful Ladon. The serpent lifted his head at the sight of the beautiful nymph as she slowed her steps.

“Are you here to bother me again, Aigle?” Annoyance fills his voice, but it doesn’t shift her stance.

“Oh Ladon, your words harm me so. Nevertheless, I can never find myself to be apart from you.” A giggle accompanied your voice as you spoke.

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“What do you want?” Ladon was accustomed to Aigle and her antics. Every single evening since his arrival, she’d spend her time doing whatever in the presence of the dragon. Despite the cold demeanor he often showed, he was very tolerant of her bubbly behavior. Moreover, he found himself to enjoy her company--it made him feel less lonely as he guarded the tree.

“I would just like to sit with you today, if that’s alright.” She said as she approached the base of the tree. After her countless visits, Ladon memorized her actions, behaviors, and even her mannerisms. He knew firmly well that Aigle wouldn’t steal the fruit. He huffed in response to her request.

“If you won’t say anything else, I’ll take your silence as a yes.” The dragon made no sound, so with a beaming smile she seats herself, leaning against the trunk in peace.

“How was your slumber?” He asks gently. Ladon gazes at her pleasant expression from the top of the branches.

“It was pleasant, I had a wonderful dream.”

“And that is?” Her eyes open to return his gaze, animating with glee in the process.

“Humans with magical powers, Ladon! They were like the Gods and Goddesses, except that cultivated their skills through special schooling!” Excitement filled her voice as she stared into his blue orbs intently.

“They don’t sound like the Gods and Goddesses to me.” He snorted.

“Oh don’t be such a killjoy! It was truly wonderful! They dressed so differently too! It was quite peculiar, but it was alright.” The dragon only scoffs in response.

The ground surrounding the nymph had sprouted with blossoms as a result of her fascination. As silence loomed in the air, an idea came into mind. She gently plucked the small flowers. From her fingertips, she then produced small, thin vines. With much precision and swiftness, she interweaved the two together, tied up the ends, forming a dainty flower crown.

“Ladon,” She called out from beneath him. The dragon looked down as she stood from her spot. With the flower crown in her hands, she reaches, delicately placing her creation on top of his head. Ladon huffed.

“What is this?” He asks.

“A gift, for you! I knew it’d look good on you.” The intensity of Ladon’s eyes softened at Aigle. He was known, by others, for his fright, yet when he was around her, he was appreciated for the beauty she saw in him. The creature didn’t say much with the exception of producing yet another huff. Although, this time it was filled with contentment.

Aigle ran her hands up and down his snout, caressing his face with much gentleness. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch in response.

“You’re a beautiful creature, you know that, do you?” Her voice seemingly dripped of nectar as she spoke. When the dragon didn’t speak, she continued.

“Do you think I can meet you in another life? Just like this one?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” His striking eyes opened to peer into hers.

“Nothing’s wrong. I like it a lot knowing that you’ll always be here.”

“Then why ask the question?” Aigle hesitates for a moment.

“I don’t think I can ever see a life with me living without your company. If I’m born again, I wish to meet you in that life too. The life after that, and the one after that also.” Aigle smiles up at the creature as the last bit of sunset glow graces her face. It was a known fact that she, amongst her sisters, was the most beautiful evening nymph. Her beauty, however, exuded compassion and care. Underneath his scaly exterior, Ladon felt a sense of warmth whenever she was near. He appreciated her existence not in appearance, rather for her persistent efforts to be near and to spread joy to a creature as vile-looking as him.

Before he could respond, a rustle from a distance perked his attention. A threatening presence filled his senses, and sent his blood boiling within.

“Aigle, hide. Now.” The nymph’s eyes began to widen in fear as their peace was interrupted with much urgency. Ladon roared once more.

“Now. Aigle. Now!” The nymph steps back hesitantly, searching his eyes for reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Instead, she was met with uncertainty, increasing the worry she felt in her heart. Nevertheless, she followed his command, camouflaging herself within the brushes surrounding the tree. The rustles continue to increase in volume, making out to be the footsteps of someone near. Using her power, she travels through the garden, seeking out the foreigner. Her senses heighten at the sight of a deranged Heracles, the hero who was once praised now desperate for redemption.

He drags his feet through the garden muttering, “Golden apples. Where are those damned golden apples!?” Heracles had his hand clutched on the grip of his sword, seemingly ready to withdraw it from its sheath.

Aigle continues to follow him with her heart beating against her chest. Her thoughts flee to Ladon’s well-being, as she thinks of strategies to protect him. With attempts to stall the demigod, she lifts her hands, inducing trees to spring up in a sporadic fashion. However, Heracles doesn’t seem to notice as his focus remains on his target. He trudges on with much frustration, and Aigle continues to throw any kind of distraction to keep him from finding Ladon and the golden apples. However, her capabilities grow faint as her energy depletes. Tears stream down her face as she watches Heracles inevitably locate the tree. She watches as Ladon, who remains fervently coiled around its trunk, extends his body to coax the man away.

Her last sight of him alive proceeds as Heracles withdraws his sword to strike his body. Within a split second, Ladon who was alive, laid on the ground in two. Fluid oozes from his insides and stains the grass beneath him. His breaths are sparse.

Meanwhile, Heracles steps forward, kicking the dragon’s bottom half aside, and proceeds to pick the golden fruit from its branches. Satisfied with the amount he has collected, he walks away without any thought of the serpent laying practically dead on the floor.

Aigle lets out a piercing cry as she comes out of hiding. She runs to him and falls to her knees with her face striped with tears, heartbroken. With shaken hands, she delicately strokes the side of his face for the last time.

“Aigle,” He croaks. The nymph who was once radiantly shining, releases a sob. She gazes into his weary eyes for one last time.

“I promise I’ll be looking for you in each one.” At the sound of his last words, Aigle breaks into a wailing mess. She mourns her beloved friend, her beautiful and brave dragon--Ladon, who valiantly carried out his task while bringing her much joy. The moonlight shines upon them as she continues to wallow in tears. Her sounds are so heartbreaking that it catches the attention of the Goddess of Marriage herself.

Arriving within a flash, Hera gasps at the sight of Aigle embracing what was left of Ladon.

“My dear, what happened here?” She lifts up the nymph into her arms, caressing her hair gently.

With sobs filling her voice, she chokes out, “Heracles. Ladon tried to protect the tree. He really did! And yet-” The goddess shushes her cries as memories of him flash through her mind. Her breaths slow down after a moment, and her once audible cries now reduce to silent tears. Hera, with a soothing voice, comforts the girl.

“Aigle, I know you loved him very much. For your love and loyalty I bestow you a gift.” The nymph looks at her with confusion.

“Look at the sky.” Following her directions, Aigle stretches her neck to the night. Upon doing so, she’s met with a new formation of stars--one that took the shape of her serpentine friend. The dragon, Draco. As she looks up, tears stream down her cheeks.

“He’ll always be here, looking for you. He’ll find his way back to you. I know it.”

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Y/N jolted awake with tears in her eyes. The sounds of birds chirping immediately fill her ears, as the rays of morning light infiltrate her yellow-clad room. She gingerly touched her face, the feeling of longing still burned in her chest. The dream was so vivid and so real that her heart felt heavy within her wake. The last few words Hera murmured rang clearly in her mind. It wasn’t something she could shake off so easily even if she tried. Ladon. Would she ever meet him in this life? She glanced at the clock--there wasn’t much time until class began. Wiping the wet traces off of her face, she got up to fix herself before making her way to her first lesson of the day, Divination.

Chatters filled the classroom when she entered. The space was split with Hufflepuffs nearest to the entrance and Slytherins on the farther side. The girl was shrouded in sadness as she made her way to her seat. Her eyes were red and puffy, her nose was slightly runny, and her body felt weak.

“What’s gotten into you?” Your friend asked. You only shook your head in response, not understanding the reason for your sadness yourself. The sound of the bell prompts the class to begin. You wipe the tiredness from your eyes as Professor Trelawney navigated her way to the front of the room.

“Welcome to another day of divination, my children! Today we will be learning about something important: dream interpretation!” Her voice resounds at the mentioning of the topic, catching your attention and making your heart race.

“Dreams, my dears, are the most crucial means to look into the future! Each dream that you have contains a meaning--a message--depending on its contents! Let’s get started!” Trelawney glides across the room, peering at various students. A great majority looks at her with exasperated expressions, while others turn away to avoid getting caught. She stops at a familiar blonde.

“Mr. Malfoy, let’s begin with you!” A scowl can be seen plastering his face in distaste.

“Any dreams recently?” The question wasn’t something that would be usually asked in such a public setting. It was weird to you, certainly enough. However, what was more odd was Draco’s hesitance. He was a striking character most of the time. He always had something snarky to say, most especially when it came to divination, but today he kept silent. You examined his nervousness as he shuffled in his seat. You couldn’t blame him.

“No, professor.” He states simply after what seemed like a solid minute of silence. You kept your eyes on his expression. While his response meant one thing, the bothered look on his face couldn’t go unnoticed. There was something off about his aura, and you could feel it. Trelawny stepped back and nodded slightly. She continued looking for another volunteer to share. As she did so, you kept your eyes set on the Malfoy. You were drawn to him on this day in particular, and you weren’t sure why. His glance met up with yours, paralyzing you for a moment before the professor’s voice resounded once again.

“Y/N, how about you? Any dreams?” The sound of her voice was alluring as your sights shifted to her. She looked deeply into your eyes as though she was trying to search your mind. You stayed still, thinking about the one you had the night prior. If anyone could tell you the purpose behind your dreams, it would most likely be Trelawny. Everyone’s focus was now trained on you.

“I did have one.” You admit quietly. You were astonished by your actions, having done so mindlessly. Regardless, the professor’s expression lit up at the sound of your words. She gestured for you to continue on.

“It was of a girl and a dragon.” You say with much hesitation. Trelawney’s eyes widened.

“Continue my dear,” she says rushedly, “what happened?” You stayed silent for a bit before cautiously deciding to go on.

“The dragon protected a tree...and the girl loved the dragon--she was always by his side. Unfortunately, he was killed trying to protect it, leaving her alone and heartbroken.” A rush of emotions filled you once again, mourning the loss of a friend. The woman’s eyes softened a bit, while the class was dead silent, interested in what the professor would have to say.

Draco, in particular, was mortified. As you sat there in contemplation, a heavy weight seemed to drop in his gut while his heart picked up its pace simultaneously. When the professor asked him to share his dreams, the feeling of vulnerability overcame him when he recalled his own. He had cried silently that night prior--having fallen for the nymph that occupied his subconscious. He recalled the vivid feeling of her touch, her soothing words, and the way the evening sun glowed on her face. He recalled Aigle’s swift-acting power as she tried to stall Heracles. The last thing he remembered from that dream was his death, carrying out his loyalty to the goddess, and making a promise to his beloved friend. What Draco didn’t expect, however, was the retelling of such coming from your lips. It was when he saw the look on your face that his heart sped up once more.

“They made a promise to meet each other in whatever life came next...then the goddess that oversaw them both casted an image of the dragon in the stars.” The emotions you felt in the dream overcame you as a tear threatened to fall from your eyes. You hurriedly wiped it away and swallowed the feelings before looking up at the professor.

“I don’t know what it could possibly mean, professor. It was very vivid.” The professor looked at you with pity, before turning to her attention briefly to the class.

“Everyone, turn to your partners and discuss your dreams.” With the class’s attention now diverted, Trelawney beckoned you to come sit with her. As you do so, Draco’s line of vision remains on you.

A more secure sense of privacy surrounds you and your teacher. While the room began to fill itself with chatters once again, you directed full attention to her, expectant of what she had to say.

“Typically, dreams are foretellings of the future, child. The appearance of a past life doesn’t usually mean anything unless there’s a specific message involved.” Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“When you spoke about the promise, however, I believe the universe was trying to show you that there is someone waiting for you in this world. Perhaps this person takes a resemblance to the dragon, whether physically or even personality-wise. Nevertheless, he has awoken, and now he’s looking for you.” The words that left Trelawney’s mouth kept you in a state of awe. You sat there with hands folded on your lap, fingers fumbling, and knee bouncing. As you remained in a state of contemplation, the bell chimed, signalling the end of the lesson. As you stood to say goodbye to the professor, she cuts you off.

“My dear, senses tell me that he’s much closer than you think. You best keep your eyes and heart open.” You had nothing to say, so you just nod. Your mind was full of thoughts, leaving you to ponder about the identity of this person all day.

You weren’t the only one curious. The moment Draco heard what you had to say, his awareness of you increased. His feelings told him to be simple and straightforward with you, but his mind was firm and stubborn. However, his body betrays him as he finds himself pacing in front of the divination class with questions that needed to be answered. You walk out of the room with books in hand, unaware of Draco’s presence. Just as you’re about to turn into the corridor, the boy bumps into you, resulting in you falling over and everything flying out of your arms.

“What the heck was that?” You ask frustratingly as you brush dirt off your knees. The platinum blonde boy looks at you in shock. You don’t bother looking up. Instead, you proceed to pick up the books that fell on the floor. He doesn’t know what overcame in the moment when he stretched out his hand to you. All he wanted was to feel your touch. You glance up warily at the owner only to be taken aback as well.

“Malfoy?” you ask. His head was turned to the side, eyebrows furrowed, and the entirety of his side profile was exposed to you. You took notice of his pale complexion, the way his lips were slightly parted, and how his jawline sculpted and framed his face. He was beautiful. However, more of your attention was drawn to his locks. ‘Platinum’ you thought. As you did so the image of the dragon’s appearance flashed across your vision. Your eyes widened, but before you could process your thoughts the sound of Draco’s voice filled your ears.

“My arm has been extended for centuries now, Y/L/N, and you’re still on the floor. Don’t you have a class to get to?” You broke out of thought and mindlessly took hold of his hand. As he pulled you up, the boy felt a wave of shivers overflowing his body. The warmth of your skin felt familiar against his own, causing a rage of heart beats to spread across his chest. As he turns his head to face you, you let out an audible gasp.

Alarming you was his striking blue eyes as his gazed pierced through your own. Out of shock, you pull your hand out of his hold and trudged past him without saying a word. You weren’t even aware of where you were going. You simply allowed your legs to take you to your next destination as you cope with the heightening of your senses.

There was no way right? There’s no way that Malfoy could be…You shook your head, trying to take your mind off of the chances as you entered your next class. You made sure to be cautious throughout the day, taking care in avoiding the boy as much as possible. There was no denying the reputation that he had in school--students have been sent to Madam Pomfrey’s a number of times because of him. His rude comments, arrogant pride--they all deterred you away from him. Nevertheless, you felt something blooming in your chest, because the dragon you knew in your dreams was patient and tolerant. You were simply uncertain to say the least.

The boy looked at his palm in awe as you walked away. When he turned around, you were already gone. He clenched his hand into a fist as if the action would retain the warmth he had felt. He recalled the look of shock in your eyes before it was glossed over by denial and sighed. How he longed to know.

As the week dragged on, you managed to keep your distance from the blonde--luckily, he didn’t approach you ever since. However, your attempts to concentrate in your classes were futile as small fragments of the dream replayed within your mind. Your thoughts were often focused on the image of Ladon that appeared so suddenly when Draco stood in front of you. You found that the words, “platinum” and “blue” ran through your mind constantly--not to mention his piercing gaze. Such imagery finds its way into your thoughts as you sit in the library, quill in hand as you work on your homework assignments. As you continue, you can’t help but wonder if he felt it too.

“I promise I’ll find you in every one.” A familiar voice rings within your mind without warning, inducing your head to pulse. You tried to fight it off for a moment, but the pain wouldn’t subside. Deciding it was time for a break, you set your quill down and made your way to the courtyard outside.

Meanwhile Draco, who spent his afternoons reading, situated himself on top of a tree, enjoying the silence which contrasted to the heavy banter in the Slytherin common room. A soft breeze ran through his platinum locks as the sun began to darken in its golden hue. He took a moment to observe the color of the sky change, prompting a series of flashbacks to flow.

“A gift, for you! I knew it’d look good on you.” There was no face attached to the dialogue, but he recalled the rosy feeling sharply.

“You’re a beautiful creature, you know that, do you?” Draco closed his eyes allowing himself to witness the emergence of his distant past.

“I would just like to sit with you today, if that’s alright.” The voice rang deeply in his mind. At the instant that the request had emerged in his thoughts, a loud crunching of leaves filled his hearing. As soon as he opened his eyes, you miraculously appeared into view, walking towards the tree he was situated in. His heartbeat raced quickly, but he kept silent, carefully observing your actions.

You sat down on its base and leaned your head against the trunk, letting out a sigh. Your head didn’t stop pulsing after you left the library. Despite that, your body relaxed upon the breeze brushing past your skin. You wrapped your arms around your waist and closed your eyes in contentment, basking in the nature that embraced you. The boy looked at you in awe. There you were right beneath him, as if the universe had orchestrated this scenario perfectly. The sight of your gentle expression stirs warmth within him, and the flow of memories seem to match this very moment to that of Aigle’s and Ladon’s. Suddenly, within the synchronization of time and space, Draco is Ladon, and in his eyes you are Aigle once again.

The energy that had surrounded the pair from the past finds it way back to you, and the familiar feel of beloved peace and comfort induces you to open your eyes. The sun that had been going down, casts its glow on you as you look up. ‘Blue striking eyes and platinum hair’ Your heart skips as you place your hand over your mouth. The dragon you’ve been mourning over had presented himself to you.

“Do you think I can meet you in another life? Just like this one?” The lines ring in your mind as Draco hops down. You get up and stand in front of him, your gazes meeting and never breaking.

“I promise I’ll be looking for you in each one.” Your eyes search his and scan his face. Recalling the days when you were Aigle, tears began streaming down your face. You allowed your previous perceptions of Draco to melt within the energy of the reunion.

You shakily lifted your hands and cupped his face in disbelief. Draco, in turn, closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. Both hearts paced quickly as a result of the awaited meeting. You stroked the boy’s cheek with your thumb, causing his eyes to flutter open. He watched as your fingers delicately brushed the space in between his eyebrows, proceeding to his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose, and finally his lips.

“Aigle?” Your old name passes through his lips low and hesitantly, but it’s enough to make you gasp.

“It really is you, isn’t it? Ladon?” Draco grabs your wrists.

“It is.” The boy looks into your eyes as tears silently streamed down your face.

“You found me.”

“I promised you I would.” You embraced him tightly, allowing the sound of his heart beat fill you up--it was the very proof that he was alive. His arms wrap around you, and you can feel his fists bunching up the fabric of your robes as his face nuzzles into your neck. The both of you took this moment to embrace the new reality.

As you step away from each other, Draco caresses your cheek and pressed his lips to your forehead. It wasn’t a form of affection he was used to showing, yet it occurred naturally within your presence. You closed your eyes upon feeling the sensation of his lips. They soon leave you only to ghost over your own.

In a low whisper, he asks, “May I?” You let out a soft ‘mhm’ in response.

The sensation you felt on your forehead takes over your lips as Draco’s brushes his against your own. The feelings of longing pour out from both parties, and suddenly it didn’t matter that you were a Hufflepuff or if he was Slytherin. There was a lot of catching up to do, a lot of changes to be made, but all of that wasn’t important in the moment. All that mattered was that you found each other, you had one another--the appreciation you had shared never truly left. Instead, you only picked up from where you left off.

“It’s nice meeting you, Draco.” You chuckled softly as you broke the kiss. The boy rolled his eyes before letting out a small chuckle himself.

“It’s nice meeting you again, Y/N.” He presses his lips on yours once more, as you dissolve in his embrace.

Epilogue:

You both find yourselves in the astronomy tower that night. Draco looks at the girl pointing to the sky. His arms wrapped around her from behind as they leaned against the railing of the astronomy tower, gazing up at the stars.

“When Ladon left, Hera found Aigle in tears and casted his image to the skies in his remembrance.” She points to the blonde.

“That image, that constellation, is you Draco.” He tightens his grip on you.

“And I’ll never leave again.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Any feedback is very much appreciated!

#draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #slytherin #slytherpuff

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osleyakomwonkru · 3 years

Text

Octavia as The 100′s Jesus Figure, Part 4: Bardo, The Crucifixion and Second Coming of Octavia Blake

So we’re back for a fourth part of this series, which I started after season 6, because wouldn’t you know it - there’s more to be said.

In Part 1, Origin Story and the Meeting of Two Saviours, I discussed Octavia’s origin story as the Dark Saviour and her relationship with the show’s other Saviour Lincoln, and how with his death he invested her with the mission to save all of their people.

In Part 2, Saving Humanity and the First Passion of Octavia Blake, I talked about Octavia finally accepting and understanding her mission as the Saviour, redeeming the sins of humanity, and her first Passion narrative, which was left incomplete, and thus she lived.

In Part 3, Planet Alpha and the Second Passion of Octavia Blake, I wrote about Octavia’s second Passion narrative on Planet Alpha, which led to her road to Golgotha at the Anomaly, from which she is resurrected (the Crucifixion narrative still remaining a mystery) and then meets those she knew once again, before her ascension as the Anomaly reclaimed her in the last seconds of the S6 finale.

So now, Part 4 - Here we will get into that missing Crucifixion narrative, as well as the events that come to pass with Octavia’s Second Coming, the Judgment of Humanity, and how things may have played out differently had it been Octavia who walked into the glowy ball of light instead of Cadogan, Clarke and Raven.

From Dark to Light

Before we return to that missing Crucifixion narrative, which takes place on Bardo, Octavia, along with Diyoza and Hope, land on a different planet for ten years. This planet also has its purpose in our Saviour narrative, because while the show starts on dark themes, and thus needed Octavia as a Dark Saviour, in season 7 it began to shift to a theme of light and transcendence.

Enter the appropriately named Penance.

Octavia spends ten years on Skyring/Penance/Planet Beta, healing from her pain and darkness, and thus is no longer the Dark Saviour the narrative needed her to be before to bring salvation to her people, now she can be the Light Saviour who will save all of humanity.

Her new demeanour - though I hesitate to say new because it was born of ten years of peace, plenty, family, and healing, it wasn’t new to her, merely to those who used to know her for whom time had been much shorter - is evidence of her new Light. It confuses many, because they hadn’t had the same time and healing as she had, but it is evident in every move she makes. Rather than the tornado of righteous fury that she used to be, now Octavia is the steady and calm voice of reason - to Echo, to Hope, and especially to Clarke.

But back to that crucifixion narrative.

Every Noble Crown will be a Crown of Thorns

Her peaceful world torn asunder, Octavia is taken to Bardo, and thrown into M-Cap at the first opportunity. Others have mentioned how the M-Cap headcap looks like a crown of thorns, and they’re quite right - this is where Octavia’s Crucifixion narrative comes to fruition. No one spends as much time in that crown of thorns as she does.

She fights it, at first, but when acceptance is what will provide salvation to her people (or person, in this case, being Hope), she accepts her fate and faces her past - brutal days of reliving her history as the Dark Saviour, to firmly close that chapter of her life (a symbolic death rather than just her regular baptism-rebirth cycle).

She’s freed from her crown of thorns when Hope comes. Hope, the symbol of her new Light, and the Light that she will carry with her as she returns to Sanctum to be resurrected among those she once knew, those who had believed her to be lost, but who dearly needed the Light she was to bring them.

Revelation and The Second Coming

There are a lot of different moving pieces involved in the apocalyptic scenarios of Revelation, and how these come to play in season 7 of The 100 isn’t any different. So let’s take a look at some of the other key players and how they connect to Octavia’s story.

The False Prophet, The Dragon and The Beast

Now, in my Part 3 of this series (written after the S6 finale), I predicted that Bellamy would have a large part in the revelation of Octavia’s Saviour narrative. Obviously, that part didn’t come to pass, because of Bob’s absence from the show, but you can still see hints within the narrative that suggest he would have been a part of it before Bob pulled out (most notably, the Hesperides flashback in 7x04 - this flashback is pretty pointless in the context of Hope telling Echo and Gabriel that story, but if you imagine Bellamy being there to hear about how his sister raised Hope in much the same way he raised her - then it becomes way more meaningful).

But the narrative as it played out also presents interesting Biblical allusions, by casting Bellamy in the role of false prophet, fighting on the side of the Beast (Cadogan), instead of on the side of Christ (his sister).

The false prophet is said to be the second beast to rise in Revelation 13, who has “two horns like a lamb, but it spoke like a dragon” (Revelation 13:11) who is given the authority to speak on behalf of the first Beast (Cadogan), to deceive the people so that they will worship this Beast. The false prophet having the appearance of a lamb is relevant here, because Jesus is often referred to as the Lamb of God - thus, the false prophet (Bellamy) resembles the true Saviour (Octavia), not coincidental since they are in fact siblings and thus do bear some physical resemblances.

So who is The Dragon - that is, Satan? It is easy to say that the Dragon is Sheidheda, for it is the Dragon who is imprisoned, only to be released to deceive and wage war before being finally defeated. But it goes deeper than that - The Dragon is the dark side of the Flame itself, Sheidheda’s only the last prophet of that darkness. It is the Flame that gives Cadogan, the Beast, the power he needs to rule over his people - the glimpse of the idea of Judgment Day as something for the Disciples to work towards - “The dragon gave the beast his power and his throne and great authority” (Revelation 13:2) - even when the good side of the Flame, the Humanity that Becca believed so vital, wanted to keep it from him.

The Children of the Kingdom of Heaven

Jesus says “unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Octavia’s always been tied to different children throughout The 100 narrative, first as the child herself, and then others such as Gavriel, Ethan, Madi, Rose and Hope. But the important children for the purpose of this post are the three that are the “next generation” so to speak of the leading trio of the show, and their important roles in the final battle.

There’s Jordan, the Head-centered, who takes over Clarke’s role as John the Baptist, the prophet who bore witness to the Light (Jesus) so that others would believe. His testimony shows that the Final War is instead a Test, and he’s instrumental in making sure that Octavia can stop the war and pass the test to grant humanity eternal life instead.

There’s Hope, the Heart-centered, who takes over Bellamy’s role as Saint Peter, the disciple who becomes the leader of the church after Jesus’ ascension. Hope is Octavia’s grounding force, her new rock, and her love gives her strength to continue her journey.

And then there’s Madi, the Soul-centered, who is Octavia’s next generation counterpart. It’s made clear from the start of Madi’s introduction in season 5 that Octavia is her favourite, that Octavia is the one she looked up to, and even in season 7, these parallels are there, as Madi is ready to sacrifice herself to save the others, and in more peaceful ways too, like when she’s hiding in the reactor with her two new friends, reminiscent of season 1 Octavia and her friendship with Monty and Jasper. Madi, too, meets her Crucifixion in the M-Cap chair, in an even crueler and more vicious manner than Octavia did. But when Octavia saves humanity, this liberates Madi’s soul and grants her eternal life as well.

I am the Way, The Truth and the Life

Wonkru falls apart in Octavia’s absence. There’s no other way to say it. Wonkru crumbling in 7x03 is made even more conspicuous by the fact that they don’t even mention Octavia, because they’re still denying her, despite everything she brought them. They don’t realize that she’s the one to save them all, they don’t realize that, as Jesus says, “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life, no one comes to the Father except through me.” (John 4:16) - something that they will finally come to understand in the climax of the final episode.

But it isn’t time for that story yet. First we must turn to Revelation to see what happens to Wonkru and the others on Sanctum while they’ve chosen to deny her and follow the Dragon and the Beast instead.

Here we see the different plagues that strike the unbelievers - both in Revelation 8-9 and 16.

The first to come are “ugly, festering sores [that] broke out on the people who had the mark of the beast” (Revelation 16:2) - the radiation sickness that is a marker of the broken nuclear reactor in 7x03, which claims as James as one of its first victims. If you don’t remember who he was while watching that episode, look back to 6x02, where he’s one of the people attacking Octavia in the Eligius IV mess hall. He breaks faith with her, and here suffers the consequences of that.

The second and third plagues speak of both the seas and the rivers turning to blood - references to the rivers of blood created by Sheidheda’s massacres, first of the Faithful and then of the Children of Gabriel.

The fourth plague, the sun scorching people with fire, takes us to the eclipse in 7x13, where the sky is red with the eclipse. This leads to the fifth and sixth plagues - the kingdom being plunged into darkness as Emori kills power to the reactor to bring down the shield, which makes it possible for “locusts [to come] down on the earth” (Revelation 9:3) and devour those “who did not have the seal of God on their foreheads” (Revelation 9:5).

It is only the final plague - “rumblings… and a severe earthquake… [where] the great city split into three parts” (Revelation 16:18-19) - that strikes where Octavia is, with “a loud voice from the throne, saying ‘It is done!’” (Revelation 16:17). This line from Revelation calls back to what Octavia says to Hope in 6x13 before her Ascension - “Be brave, tell him it is done” - a sign that Octavia is needed elsewhere again. And soon enough she does depart to Bardo, alongside Clarke. Meanwhile, the survivors remaining on Earth have to reunite the three groups split in the bunker - those in the rotunda (Hope, Jordan, Gaia, Indra, Miller), those in the rec room (Raven, Murphy, Emori, Jackson) and those in the bunkrooms (Echo, Niylah) - to prepare for the final war and judgment.

The Fall of Babylon

Before Octavia can bring light to the world and grant humanity transcendence, there is still one more key part of Revelation that must come to pass, and that is the fall of Babylon: That is, in this ‘verse, Clarke.

Throughout Biblical narrative, Babylon stands in opposition to Jerusalem and its righteousness, just how in The 100 narrative Clarke and Octavia have always been set as foils to each other. Now, Clarke isn’t evil per se, but she’s always been set in her ways and doubles down when questioned about her past deeds - as we see both in how she faces the Primes in 6x03 and the Judge in 7x16. She doesn’t learn, and so she fails. Clarke, like Babylon, is locked out of heaven for not learning the patience and humility that Octavia did: “For her sins are piled up to Heaven, and God has remembered her sins. Give back to her as she has given, pay her back double for what she has done.” (Revelation 18:5-6).

With Clarke fallen, it is now time to begin the Final Judgment.

Final Test and Judgment

After Clarke’s fall, someone must step in to advocate for humanity, to guide the Judge’s gaze to the righteous, to the Saviour - Raven steps through the glowing orb to do so. So which figure in Revelation is most suited here? None other than the writer of Revelation themselves, historically considered to be John of Patmos, who is given these visions by the angels as a warning for humanity.

Raven bore witness to a number of the plagues, and while not always a believer in Octavia - in fact, out of all characters around for all seven seasons, they’ve shared the least screentime with each other - but they’ve still fought on the same side. Also of relevance here is that Raven’s been granted visions in the narrative of the show, like John of Patmos has in Revelation - though hers came as a result of ALIE.

While the Judge takes Raven to the battlefield in Bardo to prove humanity to be unworthy, this battlefield is instead where Octavia proves humanity to be worthy. Indra and Wonkru follow Octavia’s lead, finally recognizing that their only way to salvation was through her (see John 4:16 above), and after the Disciples too laid down their weapons, humanity is deemed worthy and the Judge grants them eternal life in the form of transcendence - rising to the heavens in the manner of the Rapture, “We who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air” (1 Thessalonians 4:17).

Where is the Judgment of the Dead?

Now, one thing missing in season 7 compared to the Book of Revelation and Jesus’ Second Coming is the Judgment of the Dead and welcoming those worthy into the domain of Heaven.

A longstanding phrase in The 100 has been “May We Meet Again”. This is part of the Traveler’s Blessing of Skaikru, and one that they use frequently with one another even in non-death contexts. So with that phrase, a lot of people expected that the dead would also be able to be part of transcendence somehow, and that beloved characters would then also be present on the beach in the final scene as they rejected transcendence to live mortal lives.

I believe, given everything in the past posts about Octavia, that had she been the one to go into the ball of light to face the Judge personally, rather than saving humanity on the battlefield, that this would have happened.

While logically I believe the best form for the Judge to take for Octavia would have been Diyoza, since Diyoza was her greatest teacher, her mind would be more likely to choose her greatest love, Lincoln - who, if we go back to Part 1 of this series, we remember is the other Saviour of this show’s narrative.

That would have been a reunion even more epic than the Clarke and Lexa reunion that the show gave us, for Lincoln and Octavia were far closer and together for far longer. And if the Transcendents possessed the powers that they do - instant genocide by crystallization at the wave of an arm, transcendence through the blink of an eye, restoration of healthy and whole bodies if those souls reject transcendence - then surely raising the dead would’ve been a simple task.

The only reason that couldn’t happen was extratextual - there was no way Ricky would work with JRoth again, and so this extra dimension, this aspect of the narrative that could have made things so much sweeter and less bitter, had to be put aside.

Now, that doesn’t diminish Octavia’s Saviour narrative in the least - she did still save humanity. She did still bear the sins of the human race, she was still mocked, cast out and sent to her crucifixion by those who denied her. She did still return from that symbolic death, resurrected, then ascended. When she faced Wonkru again - remember, that battlefield in 7x16 is the first time the bulk of Wonkru has seen her since 5x13 - it was in her Second Coming to bring the Final Judgment to them. The trials they’d faced in Sanctum in her absence showed them the truth - that they had to believe in her again to achieve their salvation.

She was the Way, the Truth and the Life of The 100 universe, and no one would have reached transcendence except through her.

#the 100 #the 100 meta #octavia blake #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #raven reyes #biblical parallels #saving humanity #saviour narrative #bill cadogan #sheidheda #jordan jasper green #hope diyoza #madi griffin

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mecthology · 3 years

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Nyx from Greek mythology.

Her appearances are sparse in surviving mythology, but reveal her as a figure of such exceptional power and beauty that she is feared by Zeus himself.

In Hesiod's Theogony, Nyx is born of Chaos. With Erebus (Darkness), Nyx gives birth to Aether (Brightness) and Hemera (Day). Later, on her own, Nyx gives birth to Moros (Doom, Destiny), the Keres (Destruction, Death), Thanatos (Death), Hypnos (Sleep), the Oneiroi (Dreams), Momus (Blame), Oizys (Pain, Distress), the Hesperides, the Moirai (Fates), Nemesis (Indignation, Retribution), Apate (Deceit), Philotes (Friendship), Geras (Old Age), and Eris (Strife). Finally, Nyx bore the ferryman of Hades, Charon.

In his description of Tartarus, Hesiod locates there the home of Nyx, and the homes of her children Hypnos and Thanatos. Hesiod says further that Nyx’s daughter Hemera (Day) left Tartarus just as Nyx (Night) entered it; continuing cyclicly, when Hemera returned, Nyx left.

At Illiad, Hypnos, the minor deity of sleep, reminds Hera of an old favor after she asks him to put Zeus to sleep. He had once before put Zeus to sleep at the bidding of Hera, allowing her to cause Heracles (who was returning by sea from Laomedon’s Troy) great misfortune. Zeus was furious and would have smote Hypnos into the sea if he had not fled to Nyx, his mother, in fear. Homer goes on to say that Zeus, fearing to anger Nyx, held his fury at bay and in this way Hypnos escaped the wrath of Zeus by appealing to his powerful mother. He disturbed Zeus only a few times after that, always fearing Zeus and running back to his mother, Nyx, who would have confronted Zeus with a maternal fury.

In some accounts, Nyx and Chaos were the parents of Erebus, who then dethroned Chaos and married Nyx. In some accounts, the goddess of witchcraft, Hecate was also called the daughter of Night.

Follow @mecthology for more mythology and lores. DM for pic credit or removal. https://www.instagram.com/p/CWH0D6mF5Fl/?utm_medium=tumblr

#greece #greek mythology #mecthology #ancient #powerful #mythology #scary #primordial #goddess #dangerous #protector #pagan #old gods #mitología

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athenasspawn · 3 years

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Zoe Nightshade

Through time and history she has lived many lives ; the one of a murderer, a savior, a villain, a leader, a warrior, a servant, a girl from the woods. But no matter how many skins she borrowed and how far away she got from who she used to be, her past sooner or later managed to catch her. Who she used to be, until her soul fades away, is part of who she is and it always shows, sometimes it shows in the clothes she wears, other times by the words she continues to use from past times, or, commonly, it shows in memories and dreadful dreams.

Now she lives in the skin of Zoe Nightshade, right hand to Artemis and commander to her hunters.

Days, months, years, centuries, millennia has she lived as Zoe and only as Zoe, the memories of the betrayal, even if they seemed to be one step too close, didn’t manage to catch her. In the beginning of time, when the gods proudly ruled over the mortals of this world, she was known as a Hesperides, a goddess-nymph of sunset. She, alongside her sisters, were given the task of protecting the treasures of the gods, from them all, specially, the golden apples– these apples were sacred of the goddess Hera, not only protected by them but by the hundred headed dog, whom Zoe the Hesperides was especially fond of. It was when she failed to protect the tree that she was casted out of her family and her journey towards becoming Zoe Nightshade began.

The betrayal, to the beautiful Hesperide, from Heracles, number one asshole and hero of times.

Force to leave her world behind, force to be someone new every so often, forced to be who she was not, growing a hatred towards the hero everyone seemed to praise, was easy. Heracles was skilled, there was no denying that, yet, Elizabeth– name she had gone by many years ago– knew the truth behind the stories. Heracle, the oh so powerful demigod that everything was capable of, in fact, needed help and always had had help, help from beings that no one deems important to mention, help from beings that were screwed over by his acts of ‘bravery’.

She had been one of those screwed over beings. Had she not only helped him take hold of one of the golden apples, therefor risking and actually being forced out of her family, but she had also given him the most precious possession, a sword, a sword of the ocean, Anaklusmos, a sword he kept even after forgetting about her existence.

Still, even after having been Elizabeth, Grace, Izzie, Elaine… and now Zoe, her heart always swam towards him.

When Artemis took the girl into her wing, accepted her as part of her hunters, therefore her family, Zoe had with it, sworn off the romantic company of men, forever. It was exactly what she needed, what she had for centuries searched for, a family, a place to call home, and friends to call sisters.

And it seemed as if the memories of Heracles were just mere whispers, her feelings of love replaced by those of vengeance, but then Zoe was forced to interact with the immortal hero; those feelings were clearly not dead.

Obligated to go on a quest with the soul that ruined her life and still owns her heart in ways she wishes he did not, Zoe found herself being inefficient. Ask the forever living hunter to throw arrows, she excelled at it, ask her to cook you, too, she excelled, ask her to run three days with no stop, no problems, but, ask her to understand and actually allow herself to have emotions, yea no, not happening. Emotions, that were her ‘not done correctly’ things.

She was being inefficient. Her mind kept traveling back to the god that walked by her side, and it wondered how life would have been if he had never betrayed her, would she still be with him, would she have gotten tired? But he did betray her and there was no point in wondering about an impossible past.

She was being inefficient. Zoe Nightshade, the girl in love with the god that was, is, and, apparently, will continue to be a number one prick.

“I am god now,” Heracles informed,

“I know”

“I am a god now” he repeated

“I know. I have known for centuries”

“I am the son of Zeus.”

“Shut up”

Heracles closed his mouth.

In reality, she didn’t want him to stop talking, he needed him to do so. The fact that his silence meant more to her than his angelic voice, reassured her.

She should not love him…

Heracles could only keep his mouth shut for two mountains.

“I cold made you a goddess, goddess”

“Don’t call me that. No, you can’t. No, you won’t”

“Why are you so rude?”

“Why is it the only thing you can talk about is being a god?”

Heracles travels his gaze through Zoe, before settling it on her eyes, “Because normally that’s all it takes to win a beautiful lady like you over”

Zoe stopped in her track, “First of all, I am huntress of Artemis, do the math, second, your tactic seems to be failing, and third if you would only use that brain’s of your for once you would remember you have already won me over light years ago”

“Lig...Light years ago?” “Don’t you remember me?”

“I-Of course I do!”

He didn’t remember her…

That was not the same Heracles she had fallen in love with, that Heracles died too much time ago, along with her love.

He didn’t remember her…

“You know what? You are a god, you can deal with this quest alone”

#pjo one shot #pjo headcanon #pjo fandom #percy jackson #zoe nightshade #heracles

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sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years

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blurb of hades and persephone’s first valentines day together?🥺

okay so according to a quick google valentines day started in the year 496 and tbh i got lost reading about the origins of it??? it’s all super interesting but this is going to be set a few thousand years after that because i feel like. it’ll take a bit of time for word to travel to the underworld you know.

...

Persephone likes to think that she’s the only being in all of history to ever know the true Hades.

When others look at the god of the dead, they see someone dark and mysterious. They get lost in his persona and his temper, how he judges with a firm and strict hand, and feels more at ease among spirits than the living. No one bothers to think that he might be different than he seems.

Persephone, however, knows the truth. She knows how Hades, or Harry, as he likes her to call him, adores having his hair played with. She knows how he blushes when she compliments him, and listens attentively to all she has to say. She knows he prefers to call her by her common name, Y/N, because it makes him feel like the two of them share a secret. She knows him better than anyone.

So when Y/N walks into the dining hall that night for dinner, she can tell he’s nervous.

He sits at the head of the table like always, his crown glistening in the candlelight. He twists one of his rings around his fingers, smiling at her when he sees her.

“Hello, Petal.” He stands, pulling out her chair for her. He always insists on doing it.

“Hello.” Y/N kisses his cheek before sitting. “How was your day?”

“It was good. Busy, you know. But good.” Harry nods, sitting back down.

They make it through the first, second, and third courses of their meal before Y/N can’t take it anymore.

“Harry.” She reaches for his hand. “Is something bothering you?”

“No.” He clears his throat. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“I know that’s not true.” Y/N says gently. “What is is? You can tell me.”

Harry takes a sip of his wine, swallowing hard before replying. “Hermes visited today.”

“He did?” Y/N asks, surprised. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes. He was telling me about the mortals.” Harry takes another sip of wine. He seems even more nervous now. “They’ve begun celebrating a new holiday. St. Valentines Day.”

Y/N nods, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s a...celebration of love. Romantic love.” Harry glances at her before reaching into his pocket. “They give gifts and...I thought you may like this.”

Harry hands her a wooden box. “Happy...happy Valentine’s day.”

Y/N takes the box and lifts the lid slowly, gasping at what’s inside.

At first, she thinks it’s one of Hera’s golden apples, from the Garden of Hesperides. Then she looks at it closer, and realizes--

“It’s the pomegranate. The one you had six seeds from, when you arrived here.” Harry looks down at his lap. “I had it gilded in gold before our wedding, as a keepsake. I kept it for myself, but I thought...I thought you might like it.”

“Oh, Harry...” She bites her lip, overcome with emotion. “I do. I love it.”

“I love you, Persephone.” His voice is low, but earnest. When he looks at her, she can see the emotion in his eyes. “I never thought it was possible to love someone like I love you, but I do.”

“I love you too.” Y/N looks at the pomegranate again. “But I don’t have anything to give you.”

“You’ve already given me everything.” Harry replies. “There’s no need to--”

“What if I let you choose our position tonight?” Y/N looks up, a small smirk on her face.

Harry pauses. “On second thought...yeah. That would be nice.”

#hades!harry #hades!harry x persephone!y/n #harryblurb #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #one direction imagine #anonymous #ask

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naidadiamandis · 3 years

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Nyx (/nɪks/;[1] Ancient Greek: Νῠ́ξ, Nýx, [nýks], 'Night')[2] is the Greek goddess (or personification) of the night. A shadowy figure, Nyx stood at or near the beginning of creation and mothered other personified deities such as Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death), with Erebus (Darkness). Her appearances are sparse in surviving mythology, but reveal her as a figure of such exceptional power and beauty that she is feared by Zeus himself.

In Hesiod's Theogony, Nyx is born of Chaos.[3] With Erebus (Darkness), Nyx gives birth to Aether (Brightness) and Hemera (Day).[4] Later, on her own, Nyx gives birth to Moros (Doom, Destiny), the Keres (Destruction, Death), Thanatos (Death), Hypnos (Sleep), the Oneiroi (Dreams), Momus (Blame), Oizys (Pain, Distress), the Hesperides, the Moirai (Fates), Nemesis (Indignation, Retribution), Apate (Deceit), Philotes (Friendship), Geras (Old Age), and Eris (Strife).[5] Finally, Nyx bore the ferryman of Hades, Charon.[6]

Roman-era

bronze statuette of Nyx

velificans

Selene

(

Getty Villa

)

In his description of Tartarus, Hesiod locates there the home of Nyx,[7] and the homes of her children Hypnos and Thanatos.[8] Hesiod says further that Nyx's daughter Hemera (Day) left Tartarus just as Nyx (Night) entered it; continuing cyclicly, when Hemera returned, Nyx left.[9] This mirrors the portrayal of Ratri (night) in the Rigveda, where she works in close cooperation but also tension with her sister Ushas (dawn).

Homer[

edit

]

At Iliad 14.249–61, Hypnos, the minor deity of sleep, reminds Hera of an old favor after she asks him to put Zeus to sleep. He had once before put Zeus to sleep at the bidding of Hera, allowing her to cause Heracles (who was returning by sea from Laomedon's Troy) great misfortune. Zeus was furious and would have smote Hypnos into the sea if he had not fled to Nyx, his mother, in fear. Homer goes on to say that Zeus, fearing to anger Nyx, held his fury at bay and in this way Hypnos escaped the wrath of Zeus by appealing to his powerful mother. He disturbed Zeus only a few times after that, always fearing Zeus and running back to his mother, Nyx, who would have confronted Zeus with a maternal fury.

Nyx took on an even more important role in several fragmentary poems attributed to Orpheus.[citation needed] In them, Nyx, rather than Chaos, is the first principle from which all creation emerges.[citation needed] Nyx occupies a cave or adyton, in which she gives oracles. Cronus – who is chained within, asleep and drunk on honey – dreams and prophesies. Outside the cave, Adrasteia clashes cymbals and beats upon her tympanon, moving the entire universe in an ecstatic dance to the rhythm of Nyx's chanting. Phanes – the strange, monstrous, hermaphrodite Orphic demiurge – was the child[citation needed] or father of Nyx. Nyx is also the first principle in the opening chorus of Aristophanes' The Birds, which may be Orphic in inspiration. Here she is also the mother of Eros.[10]

The theme of Nyx's cave or mansion, beyond the ocean (as in Hesiod) or somewhere at the edge of the cosmos (as in later Orphism) may be echoed in the philosophical poem of Parmenides. The classical scholar Walter Burkert has speculated that the house of the goddess to which the philosopher is transported is the palace of Nyx; this hypothesis, however, must remain tentative.

In some accounts, the goddess of witchcraft, Hecate was also called the daughter of Night.[11]

There was no known temple dedicated to Nyx, but statues are known to have been made of her and a few cult practices of her are mentioned. According to Pausanias, she had an oracle on the acropolis at Megara.[12] Pausanias wrote :

When you have ascended the citadel [of Megara], which even at the present day is called Karia (Caria) from Kar (Car), son of Phoroneus, you see a temple of Dionysos Nyktelios (Nyctelius, Nocturnal), a sanctuary built to Aphrodite Epistrophia (She who turns men to love), an oracle called that of Nyx (Night) and a temple of Zeus Konios (Cronius, Dusty) without a roof.[13]

More often, Nyx was worshipped in the background of other cults. Thus there was a statue called "Night" in the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus.[14] The Spartans had a cult of Sleep and Death, conceived of as twins.[15] Cult titles composed of compounds of nyx- are attested for several deities, most notably Dionysus Nyktelios "nocturnal"[16] and Aphrodite Philopannyx "who loves the whole night".[17]

Roman authors mentioned cult practices and wrote hymns in her honor. Ovid wrote: "May 9 Lemuria Nefastus. You ancient rite will be performed, Nox Lemuria; here will be offerings to the mute dead",[18] and she is also mentioned by Statius:

O Nox . . . Ever shall this house throughout the circling periods of the year hold thee high in honour and in worship; black bulls of chosen beauty shall pay thee sacrifice [black animals were sacrificed to the chthonic gods], O goddess! And Vulcanus' [Hephaistos'] fire shall eat the lustral entrails, where-o'er the new milk streams.[19]

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travllingbunny · 4 years

Text

Breakdown of the short TV promos for The 100 season 7

with screenshots and speculation!

While we’re waiting for the trailer to come out (which should happen by the end of this week, “hopefully” today according to Jason Rothenberg’s latest tweet), and after we’ve secured Eliza the victory she deserves as E-Online’s Top Leading Lady, I’ve watched the two short TV promos that CW has aired during other shows, which are both now on YouTube. Although both versions of the promo are pretty short (the second one is slightly longer and more interesting), there’s a surprising amount of various scenes.Although some of them are blink and miss it, there are a lot of dramatic shots of random people fighting or getting killed or taken captive, and all of it is out of context.

However, the press release with the descriptions of the first 4 episodes helps figure out what some of the scenes may be. It looks like there are many shots from the season premiere, but also scenes from 7x02, 7x04 and the backdoor pilot (7x08).

youtube

Bellamy crying seems to be the continuation of his last scene in 6x13. He even still has the same clothes and is crying over Octavia disappearing from his arms into thin air. This is definitely 7x01, maybe even the first scene.

The second scene also seems to be Bellamy - Octavia would've bled onto his arms before she disappeared.

Also outside Sanctum: this shot in the woods. I have no idea what's going on here, a person is crouching on the ground - Bellamy? Someone else? Is this Anomaly-related?

Speaking of the Anomaly...

The person sitting on the ground looks like Gabriel. But why is he just sitting there? It wouldn't be surprising if he went into the Anomaly. He's certainly nowhere to be seen in Sanctum scenes.

These people, who look very SciFi and are obviously connected to the Anomaly, are likely to be new antagonists - and this may be from 7x01 From the Ashes, when, according to the press release, “ a new threat rises in the woods”. Their masks have a design similar to the title card of S7 opening titles.

Meanwhile, in Sanctum:

“Clarke (Eliza Taylor) and her friends attempt to rebuild Sanctum “ (press release for 7x01 From the Ashes) but “As Raven (Lindsey Morgan) faces an unexpected threat, Clarke (Eliza Taylor) must keep the peace among opposing factions in Sanctum” (7x03 False Gods).

The Children of Gabriel (we see Nelson among them) vs Earthkru? Is that the conflict now? What's going on with the Sanctumites who still worship Primes and those who hate them? Are Wonkru and Eligius prisoners going to be in conflict, too?

Raven (who's back to her pre-S6 look, and even has a red jacket - not the one she had in S1-2) tells Murphy and Emori (looking normal, not like fake Primes) that "This place is a powder keg.” “It always ends the same..."

Also in Sanctum - Indra (still in her warrior gear), saying "New world, same problems"

and Clarke talking to Gaia (in front of an idyllic looking house with a fence, maybe where she lives with Madi now in Sanctum) - "I used to think fighting is what we do... now I worry that fighting is what we are." We aren't done with the S6 angsty soul-searching!

And in a different mood -my favorite moment in the promos, Clarke punching Russell! I thought it wasn't him at first, so I thought "I wish she was punching Russell" but it is. It’s his clothes, and they are in the Sanctum shrine. (It's just obviously not JR, but a stunt double, which is unfortunately pretty obvious, LOL.)

s he still Russell or Sheidheda as Russell? He's certainly yelling the same way he yelled "I want REVENGE!" in 6x13 (f*ck you, Russell). Now it's "I want DEATH!". His death? I wish. We're not that lucky. And it looks like he's talking to Brainwashed!Jordan. (sigh)

Outside Sanctum, at night, Clarke (with a great new leather jacket) is pointing a gun at someone in the 1st promo... And it becomes clear in the 2nd promo that she's pointing the "Mysterious outsiders (who) arrive with news of Clarke’s missing people" in 7x04 Hesperides.

The mysterious strangers are led by the bald white dude who says: "You are the key to winning the last war mankind will wage". Wow! Color me intrigued!

Since she only has Gaia, Niylah and some guys with her, it's safe to say Bellamy, Echo (+probably Gabriel) are among the missing people.

Which, however, doesn't mean Bellamy, Echo and Gabriel are in the same location.

The trailer only shows Bellamy in the early scene of crying over Octavia, and he's not mentioned at all in the press releases, so it seems his storyline is too spoilery and they’re keeping it under wraps.

In this interview, Jason said about Clarke in season 7: “And as we’ll see going forward, she is now definitely determined to not lose any of her family again, in a way that is almost obsessive. Her family being Madi of course, and Bellamy and Raven and Murphy; these are all people that she loves and is not going to lose. “ Which I have (mis)interpreted as Jasonspeak for Clarke obsessed with saving Bellamy. ;)

Unlike Bellamy, we do see what Echo is up to. Here she is with short hair as one of those new masked Anomaly people, on some kind of mission? Possibly undercover?

(Remember when the fandom decided Echo was dead because Tasya cut her hair? LOL I always thought the drawing such conclusions from BTS things made no sense. Likewise, it’s now clear how silly it was to decide some characters must have died early because actors were off in LA for a while. I don’t know why so many people think the cast are glued to the set 24/7 for 6 months, and we now know that episodes were shot out of order - because there are multiple locations, with different characters/actors, so an actor could take a few weeks or even a full month off while they are shooting on another location and a storyline they aren’t involved in. For episode 1x08, the backdoor pilot - which was shot late and is production number 7x13 - that would have probably meant the entire regular cast had a few weeks off. I’m sure the cast took the chance to go and audition for new roles - at least one of them, Lindsey, got cast in a new show while the shooting of The 100 was halfway.)

We also see one of these new Anomaly soldier people here, looking pretty threatening as they pull out some kind of a weapon.

Definitely the Anomaly here and - wow, that's Diyoza the way we've never seen her before. Looks like a "garden of Eden". Probably Hope's flashbacks from the episode 7x02 The Garden (according to the press release: "Echo and Gabriel learn more about Hope and her mysterious past").

And here’s Octavia and young Hope, who's nodding her head. Looks like they are in some kind of danger. Third time lucky for O, after Ethan and Rose.

I don't know what this person is looking at, but they seemed shocked... and I think the large green eyes are Hope's. In fact, this is probably again young Hope.

Now here's the truly weird stuff. Octavia, in her season 1 tank top, in a sterile white laboratory that looks a lot like Mount Weather, being experimented on under the supervision of someone who looks like Dante Wallace? (We see this same shot in both promos, but mirror flipped in one of them.)

Whatever this is, I'm sure it's NOT the actual MW. And it sure as hell isn’t a simulation by Dante and the Mountain Men. They’re super dead.

What I think is going on here - it could be another trippy sequence for any reason, but I like the theory that the Anomaly somehow shows people alternative realities, things that might have been, What if? scenarios.

Unlike the other scenes in Sanctum, this one is likely to be from a later episode. If this is even in Sanctum, have no idea where Emori is and what's happening to her... but probably nothing good.

Nothing good is happening to this guy, either. The way the lightning goes from sea green to red/purple suggests that something Anomaly-related may be happening here?

Probably somewhere on Alpha: A body (unconscious or dead?) being dragged.

(A bunch of people are convinced it's Bellamy, which is weird, because this person's build looks absolutely nothing like Bellamy. Or that it’s Gabriel, when this person is clearly nowhere near his height. This can only be him if they picked a body double extremely poorly. Though to be fair, there was that hilariously badly photoshopped season 5 promo image of Bellamy where they stuck Bob’s head on a body of some skinny guy with narrow shoulders, so IDK,)

Someone on a motorbike outside Sanctum.

Please someone remind me who else can ride a bike. I know many of the people from Sanctum can and Clarke can because she picked up the skill from Josephine. Anyone else?

An unknown man taken captive by someone. He has similar Anomaly symbols on his forehead as Hope.

I’m pretty sure this is from the backdoor pilot (7x08 Anaconda) and these people dying from radiation are probably Second Dawn members who weren't among the chosen ones and went to Cadogan's decoy bunker.

Finally, this person must have died a sudden, instant and grisly death and quite a while ago. It could be another scene from the backdoor pilot - when the survivors got out off the bunker and saw the victims of the death wave.

Or maybe someone who was caught in a temporal flare on Alpha, which almost happened to Octavia in season 6 before she hid in the live sand. But I don’t know if the temporal flare would have instantly killed them, or just aged them a lot until they die a little later. Death wave seems more likely.

#the 100 #the 100 promo #the 100 season 7 promo #the 100 season 7 #the 100 speculation

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noirewrites · 4 years

Text

For You, I will Cross Any Waters

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves."

A Mermaid AU based off on @ladynoirjuly2020 prompts.

(I am a little too late to the party!)

Fandom: Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Pairing: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain Cheng

Chapter 2: StarGazing

“You are here quite early today,” Ladybug said, her tone a bit confused.

“Well, I can’t stay away from you for long, M’Lady.” Chat winked at her, causing her to giggle as she shook her head.

“Silly kitty,” she fondly whispered, then looked up at the night sky.

A cool breeze blew as Chat turned his gaze up to the sky too. The moon was still low, making the diamonds of the inky black sky present their twinkling beauty in full glory.

Laying on the soft green grass in the company of the Lady he adored—

—he sure was a lucky black cat.

But he wanted to include her in his life. To be with her, by her side, always, and not meeting her in secret away from the eyes of the world. He wanted to introduce his Lady to the world, without the fear of —

“Chat?”

Her soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, causing him to turn his luminescent gaze to her.

“The stars look beautiful tonight, don’t they?” She whispered in awe, her bluebell eyes shining.

Smiling at her, Chat reached forward to lightly run his hand through her hair. “They sure are, Bugaboo, but all the stars lose their beauty in front of you.”

“Flatterer,” Ladybug whispered, rolling her eyes in amusement before she turned her gaze up back to the stars.

Chat stared at her beautiful face, etching the visage into his memory, before sighing and joining her in stargazing.

A comfortable silence settled between the two.

“You know, M’Lady? Chat whispered, capturing the mermaid’s attention, “When I was a child, I often used to stargaze with Maman. We would spot all the different constellations we could see, and sometimes even make our own.”

Ladybug giggled and said in adoration, “Wow, that’s...that’s cute.”

Chat chuckled along, then turned back to gazing at the stars.

“See that ‘U’ shape over there?” Ladybug suddenly spoke up, pointing in a direction.

Chat followed her gaze. At first he couldn’t see a thing, but as he looked with more attention, he could make out the faint ‘U’-shape the dim stars were making.

“That’s the Corona Borealis, also known as The Northern Crown,” Ladybug informed him, a soft smile dancing on her lips.

“Cool, I wonder if I can get that crown for you, M’Lady,” Chat said in a teasing voice, leaning close to the mermaid’s face.

“Always the flatterer you are, aren’t you, kitty?” Ladybug said as she booped Chat’s nose and pushed him away, giggling at his cute pouting face.

“Legend has it that it represented the crown that Ariadne, the daughter of King Minos of Crete, wore at her wedding,” the mermaid said, looking back up at the sky.

“Ariadne— she’s from Greek mythology, right?”

“Yes,” the mermaid confirmed, before continuing. “Her ball of thread helped Theseus defeat the Minotaur and find his way out of the labyrinth. Theseus gave her the crown when they married. The crown was created by the supreme goldsmith of the gods, Hephaestus.”

“Woah, cool,” Chat whistled, then turned his attention back to Ladybug. “Hey, you close your eyes now.”

“Why?” she asked, curiously.

“Well, it’s my turn to make you spot a constellation, duh.”

Ladybug giggled, but then closed her eyes. Chat looked at the sky, gazing hard and trying to make out indeterminate shapes, until a familiar constellation came into his view.

“Look over there!” Chat exclaimed, causing Ladybug to open her eyes and look in the direction he pointed.

“Do you see it?” Chat asked, excitement dripping from his voice.

Ladybug squinted hard, pushing her torso out of water as much as she could, as if she was trying to reach close to the sky to get a good look at what Chat was pointing at. Her expression was so cute that Chat had to bite his lower lip hard in order to stop the laughter from escaping him.

“That array of stars, Bug. A small shape with kind of a very long tail?” Chat explained, helping her as much as he could.

The mermaid continued to squint till her eyes were nearly shut, then all of a sudden she straightened up, opening her eyes as she exclaimed, “Voilà!”

“Did you see it?’ Chat asked again eagerly.

“Yes! It’s a very long tail! I have never seen this constellation before, what’s this called?” Ladybug asked excitedly.

“It’s the Draco, the dragon. Maman told me a story about it, too. Wanna hear?”

Ladybug looked at him with her eyes shining with excitement, “Oh , chaton , please do tell!”

Letting out a slight cough, Chat started speaking in a comically deep voice, “In Greek mythology, the dragon was Ladon, a monstrous beast with a hundred heads chosen by Hera to guard the golden apples of immortality. These apples grew in the garden of the Hesperides, located in a far western corner of the world, near the Atlas mountains at the edge of the encircling Oceanus, the world ocean. Ladon was slain by Hercules in the eleventh of his twelve labors.”

As he stopped, Ladybug let out a small chuckle. “Oh, kitty, you and your theatrics. But wow, that’s quite an interesting tale!”

“I know right! Also, Draco was believed to be the guardian of the star that never moves, the celestial pole. In ancient times, the pole star was believed to be the doorway between the mortal world and eternity,” Chat added further.

“Woah! I wonder if this door between mortal world and eternity exists…” Ladybug said in an awed whisper.

“I don’t know about that, M'Lady, but there’s one thing I am certain of.”

Chat reverently picked up the mermaid’s red-scaled hand, bringing it to his lips and causing her breath to hitch slightly.

“No matter wherever we are, for you, I would cross any waters, My Ladybug.”

#ladynoirjuly2020 #stargazing #ladynoir #mermaid au #miraculous fanfic #mlb #feels #constellations #greek mythology #romance #comfort #mermaid marinette dupain cheng

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spidersmiceandeverythingnice · 4 years

Text

Been sitting on this for awhile, I think it still needs some polishing and I haven’t settled on my design ideas yet (I need to pick a face-claim/potential VA/figure out some armor references if I want to draw him) but ya know what I think we need? Some more Greek heroes. I love me some Greek heroes. Here’s a Memnon profile for ya:

MEMNON PROFILE

Rider (B/AAA/Q)

Origin: Greek Mythology / Africa

Brynhildr’s Beloved / Sky / Lawful Good / Greek Mythology Male

Passive Skills:

Divinity B

Affection of the Goddess

Riding B

Active Skills:

General’s Honor – Increases party’s attack, star generation, and NP damage (three turns).

- When introduced to King Priam, the leader of Troy loudly proclaimed that Memnon will be their savior. Memnon merely smiled, and said that his strength would be obvious on the battlefield, but it would be impolite to boast at dinner. A mighty general who was admired by all his men and feared by all his enemies.

Affection of the Divine (A) – Grants guts to self (one time, five turns), raises attack and defense and apply ignore invincible (three turns).

- Raised by nymphs at the shores of Okeanos, doted on by his divine mother, admired by Zeus and Hephaestus for his combat prowess. Rarely has a man ever walked the Earth who has been so blessed.

Proof of Immortality (B) – Charges NP gauge (20-50 percent), gains critical stars (10-30), gain de-buff immunity (one time, three turns).

- Though his story is lost, the mark of his legend is felt across the world. It is said that his blood gathered in a river upon his death, and every year on the anniversary of his slaying, the river smells of blood. Memnon, unlike Achilles, does not draw power when he is present in his homeland, as his tale is lost to history. However, he can draw on this power instead, a manifestation of proof that he lived and was considered a hero.

Noble Phantasm: Chariot of the Rising Dawn. (Buster). Chance to inflict burn (apples to all enemies), deal heavy damage to a single enemy. Apply Burning Field to the surroundings after taking effect.

- Invokes the protection and power of his mother, Eos, the primordial dawn goddess. Memnon has access to her chariot, which is pulled by two horses, Firebright and Daybright. Setting a trail of fire and sparks, he charges towards the enemy, leaving chaos in his wake.

- Because Memnon prefers single combat and dueling, this works as a Single Target Noble Phantasm. The burn, however, is applied to all targets.

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Introduction: The hero always arrives at the last minute… or, so they say. I am Rider, Memnon. Please allow me to serve as your defender.

Profile One: The rival of Achilles, who was summoned from Aethiopia after Hektor’s death to participate in the defense of Troy. The son of a primordial dawn goddess, a humble and great leader who inspired countless men. His tale is lost to history with all but a few fragments remaining, so much of his life is a mystery.

Line One: If you wish to rest, please do so mindfully. The battle will begin again when the sun rises.

Line Two: The relationship of a Master and a Servant is simple enough to understand. I was a general, so the chain of command is nothing new.

Line Three: You are still young. Please allow me to advise you in combat. If necessary, I shall take the lead myself. Leave everything to me.

Likes: Hmm… I suppose my hobbies are making music and gardening. Why, is that strange? I was raised by nymphs, you know.

Dislikes: Things that I hate… I’d have to think about it. I’m sure that there are things I dislike but nothing comes immediately to mind.

Holy Grail: A wish-granting device is certainly interesting. Would it be selfish to…? Never mind. I’ll have to think about what I could wish for.

Event: A new battle begins. Remember your obligations!

Birthday: The day of your birth is cause for celebration. May the gods bless you on this day/

Character Interactions:

Penthesilea: Ah, the Queen of the Amazons. It was a great honor to serve alongside her. Her prowess in battle is like none I’d ever seen. She’s really amazing. You know, she used to wear a decorated helmet that obscured her face… well, when it came off in the middle of combat, Achilles stopped what he was doing and just stood there! She nearly took off his head! Can you imagine, the great Achean, standing there looking like…? [clears throat] I mean, of course, I’m glad I got to witness such a glorious exchange. A battle between two warriors of that caliber is a rare thing.

Hektor: Hektor. It is a shame that we never met in life! I’m honored to be fight alongside – oh, no thank you. I don’t smoke.

Paris: … I’m a bit worried. They say Apollo is a great god, but this is…

Artemis: Ah, the goddess of the moon! My mother spoke of you often. I am truly blessed to meet you. Strangely… you remind me of… Oh, never mind.

Achilles: Yes, I remember him quite well. I don’t have any grudges. Zeus blessed our battle, and it was an exhilarating fight. I’m honored to have been able to cross blades with someone like him. Though… I do wonder if it’s alright to speak to him. I suppose, in his position, it’s possible… Perhaps if I offered to duel him once again, he would forgive me! Yes, I shall do that.

Queen of Sheba: I have traveled through many lands, but there is something about you that is familiar. Please tell me more about your kingdom – I would like to hear of it, even though we were not alive in the same era. Hmm? What do you mean, knowledge costs extra? Is this some kind of border tax?

Iskandar: You want to hear about Okeanos? I’m happy to tell you - but I’m afraid it’s not very exciting. I was raised there, you see, so a lot of my stories involve me doing chores and... oh? You still want to know? Very well.

Scheherazade: A woman who collects stories. I wonder... Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing. Never mind.

Nordic Heroes: They seem to be looking at me. I wonder – do they know something about me that I don’t? Is there something on my face?”

Profile Two / Bond One: “Are you comfortable? How may I assist you?”

The story goes that after Hektor’s death, King Priam of Troy summoned an army from a distant land. Alongside the Queen of the Amazons, Penthesilea, Memnon sailed to Troy from Aethiopia, to defend the besieged city from the wrath of Achilles.

Profile Three / Bond Two: “A lost hero, you say…? Well, it can’t be helped. “

Where Hektor was Achilles’s great enemy, it’s more accurate to say that Memnon was his rival. Memnon was also the son of a goddess, and had many powers that made him equal Achilles in combat. The Greeks feared him and his army. However…

Profile Four / Bond Three: “Yes, my mother is the goddess of the dawn. I even had relatives in the royal family at Troy, but I was raised by the Hesperides on the shores of Okeanos. Yes, it’s a real place. I’m serious. Perhaps one day, you will be able to reach it.”

Zeus was impressed by Achilles’s strength, but also favored Memnon. It is said that he blessed their battle, making them tireless, and the god of the forge, Hephaestus, had also given both of the heroes indestructible armor.

The written text of this story is lost, except for all but a few sentence fragments. The glorious final battle of Troy faded into myth, and then nothingness. Though many writers carried on describing Memnon’s legacy and fame, his shining hour was eclipsed by time.

Profile Five / Bond Four: “I was given many blessings from the gods. I would not say I have any regrets about how I lived my life. After all, if there is even one person who remembers that I lived…”

After the death of Achilles’s most beloved partner, Patroclus, the hero was inconsolable, and it seemed that he would lose the will to fight. However, Antilochos - the youth who cared for his horses and occasionally helped Achilles steer his chariot in combat - cheered him up and convinced him to continue living. Later, during a battle, Memnon struck Antilochos down, forcing the hero of the Acheans to grieve yet another loved one.

Profile Six / Bond Five: “I would like to tell you a story. It’s a great tale about a man who travels the world from end to end. Would you care for tea? It’s a bit long, so we may be here for awhile.”

Not long after Memnon’s death, the Trojan War ended, and a new tale began. It’s said that his mother wept inconsolably at her son’s death, and so Zeus granted Memnon immortality.

The ancient world of Northern Africa was said to have many statues of Memnon, marking the places where he had stayed or traveled to. These too are now lost.

However, despite all odds, the enduring soul of Memnon remains alive in human memory. It is for this reason that he can be called from the Throne of Heroes.

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Personal Notes:

He’s BAAAQ with a single target buster because I wanted him to stand out from other Five Star Riders, basically, and the weird mechanic thing with burns is just something I think would be Neat because again I have no clue how a lot of the funky mini-mechanical technic-stuff works in FGO even after a year of playing. But like, if Space Ishtar can change her NP Card-type, then Memnon can have a single target NP that de-buffs all enemies.

So basically, he’s one of Penthesilea’s allies/an ally of Troy. He and Penth terrify the Greeks, at first Achilles is distracted by the hot new Amazon and his cute new rebound boy (I’m not a fan of Antilochos just like, on principle because this is a Patrolcus stanning household, but oh well), but then he eventually gets his act together and while he defeats Penth, Memnon winds up killing Antilochos. This leads Achilles to going on another rampage, and slays Memnon in the process. And after this, Paris (a known fool and idiot) finally asks Apollo for help in killing Achilles, leading to the end of the Trojan war.

There seems to be sources about Memnon that show he was well-known in the ancient world as a mythological figure (writers such as Herodotus reference him in their works/tales about Africa and he was probably memorialized in statues in various temples) but the primary text (the lost epic detailing the end of the Trojan War: Aethiopis) is basically gone. Which is a shame, because he’s a fascinating character - a true foil to Achilles in almost every way.

So basically, IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE.

Obviously because I’ve been deep in Achilles Loving Hell, I’ve been deep-diving into the lore, and even though there isn’t a lot to go on, the things I do find are rich and juicy. I imagine Memnon to be a bit older and wiser than Achilles (probably has a beard tbh, but not like a bushy beard) and a bit more relaxed. The guy was raised by nymphs and was basically nice to everyone, so it seemed. Memnon is not the type to go berserk in combat, but he also doesn’t hold back when it comes to beating your ass. There’s a sweet spot between Hektor “I Suppress All Emotions and Only Strategize” style of fighting and Achilles “I Am Strong and Fast and Have a Lot of Feelings so Fuck You” style of fighting, and Memnon is probably riiiight in there, crunching on some golden apples that his mom gave him for a snack.

(There’s also apparently a weird and funky piece of very obscure and maybe fake lore which states that Memnon might related by blood to Thor, which idk how true that is but I think it’d be hilarious to include.)

#fate grand order #fgo #servant profile #memnon #fate series #rider of red

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