#Zeus calls some children little birds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noxspost · 9 months

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elder birch

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well, it was a night like any other deep in the forest around camp Jupiter in the west which this forest lay, the trees were mostly deciduous. maples and birch stay in that forest, and it was so welcoming to Lupa as she walks over to the riverbank and her brown and silver, grey fur cover paws make soft dents into the ground around the banks.

she was a grey wolf with brown mixed in and her eyes were silver as the Lethe mist. on her head was a small crown which was a few shiney rocks on some string and was tied around her ears.

she hadn't seen the nymphs of tree and of ocean and river in their homes away from Neptune and Zues's eye, but she was happy that some came back in these forests. the rocks at the bottom of this bank could be seen and most were earth and grey colors.

Lupa was laying on the rock which overlooked the small creek. her tail hung barely touching the water but the sounds deep in the forest made her smile since she hears the sounds of feet and paws hitting the ground and soon, she saw two women one was name the keeps souls she was old as the heaven god who father of Kronos.

she was half lion, and she was often called in Latin sartrix sanguinis carnis but in Greek she was called υφάντης αίματος και σάρκας. she was next to the eldest birch nymphs. she was in a dress and the neckline was across the chest and only one sleeve. her dress was slightly torn and ended around her knees.

her hair was like the leaves of the birch, and she had birth marks around her neck and legs it seemed like those marks were birch's black stirps. her eyes often were yellow like the sun or pale yellow. she stood next to keeps and she was short but still was tall.

Keeps wears a veil which hides her skin that was sewn on with other parts of her skin that is also all over her body.

Keeps had stripes and dots which were a white color. Her fingers were long claws long and black like she had frost bite. blood, the color of gold, blue and red blood stained her claws. A belt is around her waist with belt bag which holds her sewing stuff and other things.

Her body is strong and a little muscle on her, lean and powerful muscles. Not too defined her skin was healthy it was a pale brown but still as if it had been touched by the sun gentle hug.

She has some cat features like her ears which have cat ears. Her legs are cat legs covered in tan and white fur; her tail is a lion’s tail with the tuff on the end. She has four arms and the other pair that lower always hold something may that her toy dolls of six gods or a blanks heck even one of her birds.

She had strings with two small dolls attached to them, which she moves like marionette are often Chiron and Dionysus. She does have marionette dolls and normal toy made of plush, cloth, buttons and string of gods and mortals that had died she can be seen carrying them.

She can shift her height but stands taller than hades normally but mostly at Achilles height maybe just a little taller. Lupa smiles and speaks "hello dears." the goddess nod in a greeting and keeps walks over to her and sit downs on the rock with Lupa but birch was sitting was next to the other two deities.

"Hello Lupa. So, Zeus got some of his power ripped away and soon Hestia will the leader with chaos working with her." told birch as she was picking up rocks and moss Lupa smiles and she said with a smile "good Zeus needed to remove from that seat and i am glade for apollo to get out of that house." then Keeps spoke "well i heard that Ares that had gotten most of the abuse from Zeus and Hera."

they nodded and they sat in comfortable silence as they listen to the sounds of the forest around them finally at peace Artemis and Apollo and the other Olympian children of Zeus like Hebe, Hermes, Eileithyia and a couple other of those kids were finally safe for Zeus. apollo and Ares could finally be at peace far away from their corrupt father thankfully.

the maples Dryads and birch Dryads were poking out from the trees and Lupa smiles, and she was waging her tail in inviting manner and some of the nymphs were smiling. then when they were sure enough that it was safe, they sat down around those trees they hid behind and most of them started to make little things with wooden beads and strings.

Keeps and Birch smile and started to speak in Latin "Iason bene moriturum putavi!??" spoke birch who was shocked about that "bene mi honeysuckle i extraxerunt aliquo chordarum!" she cheers and most of the Nymphs were smiling but couldn't understand Latin.

"What about Octavin?" asked Honeysuckles who had eye markings on her since birch trees often have knots on the bark which look like eyes. she was one of the oldest nymphs next to the ash tree nymphs, but she was found out in a forest to the mountains of Greece. Lupa watches the trail which runs through this part of these lands and then she asks, "why does most of the Nymphs and other Greek creatures love being in the forests and plains?"

Keeps thought for a minuet and spoke "well because it is more protected." they went about talking about the lucid hunter which hadn't shown up in a long time in both camps.

---

as Lupa was confused as about the whereabouts of this monster she was reading her foster son account of this monster it was the first Roman report which was recorded report accounting the tales of meeting the monster.

Diu pugnatum fuerat hostes quinque millia hominum et viginti medics, attulimus 5001 viros et viginti medics attulimus. fuit longa pugna et odor mortis suspensus est humilis et metalli sicut odor sanguinis et tunc sudor crassus et suffocatus multis.

pugnandi genere duri erant, et celeriter incogniti ad proelium cum ducebamur visi sunt hostes acriter et acriter cum hostibus nostris pugnando defecerunt multique ex hostibus nostros interfecerunt.

velocis erant in pedibus suis gravius- um emissos, sed ferire durum erat cum quasi duobus lupis pugnando 1* Diripitur alter, et tunc alter ibatus et inde rupta retro.

utebantur silvae post se trahentes nos trahebant multum militum in plerisque ducum, altioresque discursibus tam morientium clamoribus quam si nulla ex iis saltibus pugna terrifica esset. signum et clamaverunt ad deos suos.

Et magis terribile fecit, quod cum faceret eas in silva, esset sicut potentissima multitudo eorum sicut nos in armis induti, sed unus ex vexillis suis habebat vulturem barbatum, et unus de aliis vexillis habebat corvum cum circino circum illud. tam avem quam pro diis nostris et pro domina Dread Latine proclamarunt.

sed post multas horas pugnandi deus Mars et hi alii duo corvum aureum miserunt ad saxum demittendum in duos milites, qui fuit ex propinquis meis qui Remum fratrem meum et alium vidi quasi mulierem capillis longis constrictam. et extra viam. after this one of the leaders on the opponent's and army came stood this battle with sibilo quod sonuit sicut aliquis confossus ad mortem erat horridus, induebatur crinibus flavis, erat blondish tannish color.

pellem eius subito tetigit pellem et induebatur habitu sed habebat loricam super eam qua magis terruit eam tenebat spiritum suum desuper sicut ponebat sibilus circa collum eius ligatum circa collum eius cum chorda sanabat oculos eius ardentes. viridem et adspexit demens, quod sub casside videremus.

dea belli os nos intuentes et aliquot scholas habebat in crinibus quae de subtus galea videri poterant et cognoverunt se habere in ea caespites et nos omnes cognovimus milites me esse cognovisse quod erat unus ex vexillis. repraesentata est unum ex vexillis modo stabat ad nos modo oculos suos frigus inspicere et ira simul viridis flagrans.

hastam extulit ac deinde reamentem MMM et X medics secutus est quam corvus ille aureus in humero suo exposuit.

hi omnes sequebantur in silvas quas eas excurrere vidimus.

711, qui remanserant, omnes mortui et cum plerisque medicis nostris, qui in tentoriis suis mortui posuerunt.

si unus relictus fueram in hoc muto imperio, Romae hoc animadverto nunc cum hoc scribo quod me gravissimum errorem occupare conatus sum hanc mundi partem intellexi nunc cum esset stupid of me what made me think of this as I'm writing was the commercium after it. Cum omnia cadavera ab utroque latere circumspicerem, magis mihi mortui sunt hac pugna quam illis, tamen corpora eorum magis cicatricum evulsa sunt, sed ut recognovi, maxime exercitus mei cadavera percepi. cor eorum defuit.

fatum erat, sed relictus sum ad vim pugnandi pauci medics remanserant et nos dies ad nos transferendos mortuos nostros accipere possumus ut eas proprias mittere et sepelire possimus sed graviter laesi in hoc tempore sic remanere habui. post in tabernaculis manentibus stantibus quae ab his non aestimabantur ita sanari potui quae sicut septimana cepi sed post septimanam sicut e tentorio egredior tandem postquam omnes medicos mitto ut percurram conemur remeare Romam incolumis post bella pubica terra deminuta nobis fuit tempus ad pedes regredi.

Sed quid hoc terribile fecit, et de eo quod exivi sola, quae supererant cadaverum, fragmenta ossea quasi nivis sparsa erant. et semper putamus vagum instar pellis et carnium fuisse, immo minutissimas bracteas carnium transversas, quasdam adhuc in corporibus impressis.

unum tantum corpus supererat et res calebat sicut in cappa ab instar lumborum scissa evulsa sunt ossa carnium quae Dimidium temere projiciebat per ossa et circa aream, et multae aves reliquae carnes super le- debant. superior pars cadaveris ejusdem erat, cui cranium ejus ab illo Corvo Aureo oppressum erat.

bene hoc me voluit objicere, quia cum conversus ad solem qui erat post hunc collem, ubi stans procerus et tenuis, et circumligatus est pellis, sicut aliquid hauserat intus, et solum ossa et cutem. est vultus et figura macie cum eo accubans. vix manus collis attingebant.

Caput habebat crines, graciles, graciles, coagmentatos; remisso crine laedi et in filicum futurum videbatur. Monstrum hoc spectat ut homo, qui hieme concretus est, et cum sua pelle inediaque necatus est.

Cutis cinerea et caerulea erat, bracchia et crura longiora erant quam corpus est. facies erat concava, oculi mersi, et omnia in oculis erant nigra. pupillas et irides, quae albae fuperius fuerunt.

it looked at him with obscurus rapax, like eyes it blinked lente at him they felt a sense of dread a sense of fear so powerful it made his crure quatiunt vultum eius, arridere iam omnibus dentibus acre ac serrato sanguine infici; unguium erat longum et osseum, et cum nigro et congelationis tactu videbatur.

Ita male scribens hanc supellectilem deprimit et virum fratris mei liniamenta domi vidi et ipse me sequi videtur. Forsitan Remus frater meus terribilis haec poena mea est a diis, quia fratrem meum occido, qui in Romana urbe ad meridianam sanatorem visurus sum, qui cum media pars optimorum doctorum ac medicorum me adiuvare non potest...

Lupa was done reading about her son's telling so she goes the other papers and wax tablets from Greek, Egyptian, old English and Sumerian about keeps and how she is tied to the monster. she was mad since her son's writing was very illegible as if many have been writing down this text to preserve it and when it's finally translated into English. it sucked and she turned to the original English that her other son Remus who's now immortal and technically a god had written down she had to find where he had put the paper.

after a bit of searching and she smiles and then she pulls the scroll from under some of the seats and there it was the Translated word for word still a little bit more incoherent but he was writing that down in the middle of the night with fading candlelight.

it had been a long fight the foes had brought 5000 men and 20 medics, so we brought 5001 men, and we brought 21 medics. it was a long fight and the smell of death hung low and metal like smell of blood and then sweat was thick and it was choking out many.

the fighting style of the foes were fast, hard and they seemed to blessed with speed unknown to my men as I led them into battle they dodged and tried their hardest to fight against our foes but they failed many of the foes slaughtered our men.

they were quick on their feet the most importantly they dodged but they hit hard when they hit was like two wolves fighting 1 snapped at the other and then the other dodged and then snapped back.

they were using the forest behind them as they drew us in and it drew a lot of the soldiers in most of the generals, and higher ups as well the screams of dying men from those forests before the fight were terrifying it was as if there's a signal and they screamed for their gods.

what made it more terrifying because when you do them out in the forest it would just as potent most of them are dressed in armor like us but one of their banners had a bearded vulture and one of the other flags had a raven with foxglove around it around both the birds and they screamed in perfect Latin for our gods and for Lady Dread.

but after many hours of fighting the gods Mars and these other two had send a golden raven to drop a boulder on these two soldiers which was of my own kin who looked my brother Remus and another who looked like a woman with his long hair tied up and out of the way. after this one of the leaders on the opponent's side and army stopped the war stopped this fight with a whistle that sounded like someone was being stabbed to death it scrubbed was horrid, she was wearing blonde hair it was a blondish tannish color.

her skin was a sudden touched skin and she was wearing a dress but she had armor over it which made her more terrified she held her spirit above as she laid the whistle around her neck it was tied around her neck with string cured her eyes were blazing green and she looked mad for what we could see from underneath her helmet.

like a goddess of war with how she staring us down the face and she had several schools in her hair which could be seen from underneath her helmet and they realized she had foxglove on her and we all realized soldiers that I had led are realized she was one of the banners she was represented one of banners she just stood at us she just stared at us her eyes cold and angry at the same time blazing green. she raised her spear and then the reaming 3000 and 10 medics followed her as that golden raven landed on her shoulder. all of them followed her back into the forests which that we saw them run out of.

the 7,011 that remained were all dead and same with most of our medics which laid dead at their tents.

i had been the one left on my side in this dumb to gain control for Rome I realize this now as I'm writing this that I made a grave mistake tried to take control of this part of the world I realized that now when it was stupid of me what made me think of this as I'm writing was the interaction after it. As I was surveying all the dead bodies from both sides there is more dead people on my side of this battle than there was them, yet their dead bodies were more scarred and ripped but as I surveyed them, I realized most of my army's dead bodies had their hearts missing.

it was weird but i was Left to the fighting force only a few medics remained and would take us days to transport our dead so we can give them the proper send off and bury them but I was severely injured at this time so I had to stay behind in the tents that remained standing that were not rated by these people so I could get healed which took like a week.

week later as I step out of the tent finally after I send all the medics away so they can try to traverse the land safely back to Rome after the pubic wars our land has been diminished it was time for us to get back on our feet.

But what made this terrifying and concerning as I stepped out the only things that remained of the dead bodies were bone fragments scattered around like snowflakes. and we always think that was vaguely like skin and flesh was in fact tiny strips thin strips of meat laid across some of the still mostly in tacked bodies.

there was only one body left and the thing was hot like in the hat from like the waist down was shattered bones ripped up meat that Half hazardly thrown across the bones and round the area and there were several birds picking up the remaining meat on the on the upper half of the dead body it was the same guy that had his skull crushed in by that Golden Raven.

well this made me want to throw up because when he turned to the sun which was behind this hill where standing tall and thin figure and the skin was tightly wrapped around him like something had sucked out the insides and only the bones and skin. it's face and figure was gaunt with it Crouched down and their hands were barely touching the hill's ground.

the head had some of the hair, which was mat, thin, and clumped together in big pieces; hang down were the hair it seemed to be damaged and going to fall in clumps. This monster looks like a human who was froze in winter and starved to death as seen with its skin The skin was grey and blue, the arms and legs were longer than it's body. the face was a hollow one, the eyes were sunken in, and everything in the eyes were black. the pupils and irises which were white and slits.

it looked at him with dark hungry predator like eyes it blinked slowly at him they felt a sense of dread a sense of fear so powerful it made his leg shake its face seemed to smile now with all the teeth sharp and Jagged stained with blood; it claws was long and boney and seemed to touch with black and frostbite.

i feel so sick writing this stuff down and i have been seeing a man with features of my brother in the back of Rome and he seems to be following me... but his face seems dead and gaunt. that is my terrible brother Remus maybe this is my Punishment from the gods for killing my brother i am going to visit the healer woman in the south of Rome who might since half of my best doctors and medics can't help....

she was smiling as she turned to see her son Remus who was best friends with Hypnos and his family. "hello mom. oh want help getting more info from history of the lucid hunter?" he asked as she nods walks back to the table " of course I do these bones aren't what they used to be." she says with a lot of teasing in her tone "mom you're a wolf goddess your bones are completely healthy." he teases back laughing slightly and she smiles as he collects a couple other things.

---

Leo was making bombs with a kid who just enter the camp as a half blood and she was wearing blue glasses and had pale tan skin who was wearing a Search sleep shirt with corals over it and a pair of hiking boots she also had gloves and around her it was an apron that you wear when you're working in forges everyone assumed that she was one of the Hephaestus kids but she was still unclaimed even after weeks of being in camp half blood.

"so just grabbed the lighter fluid in the vodka bottle close that up but with a piece of cloth then you grab a liner you light the cloth it's going to become a bomb!" she smiles and then one of the Hephaestus kids spoke "what the heck okra?" she smiles as she throws it Out into the explosive testing grounds for this very purpose and soon enough became a deadly bomb.

#octavian hoo #my au #pjo hoo toa #ao3 fanfic

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lovenona · 3 years

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AVE MARIA.

contains: a crumb of explicit smut, praise, body worship, infidelity (reader cheats on her crusty husband), oral (f! receiving), mirror sex, italian renaissance au, catholicism, lots of sacrilegious themes, cisfem! reader, sweet and soft vibes ahead

based on this drabble.

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(florence, italy, the year of our lord 1485. the city sits at the center of the universe. with her dense, winding streets and her ethereal architecture and her aspiring masters loitering on every corner, florence is a city that does not listen, but speaks. she is where the sun rises and sets, where the gods find their inspiration.)

you presumed that florence would hold your heart, always. but when you first heard him refer to you and the blessed mother in the same sentence – that’s when you knew.

and later, when he looked at you like you were a deity come down from the heavens to baptize him alone – you knew then too.

you understood, instinctively, always, that you would follow nanami kento to the end of the world, no matter the price.

you always considered yourself luckier than some. you hailed from a respected family; you married rich and powerful and strong. your own husband frequently sat at the table of lorenzo de medici and drank his wine and caressed his lovers. each morning you wore beautiful, fine fabrics, and at breakfast you browsed frantic letters from the esteemed jewelers of venice who begged you to wear their craft. better still, you played the darling hostess of one of the finest houses in florence, guiding mindless housewives through your flourishing courtyard with ease and grace and fertility.

and on sundays – oh, sundays! you sat, poised and perfect, in the front pews of the florence cathedral, where all eyes watched you in envy: even god.

perhaps you were luckier than some. and yet.

and yet, still, when you studied yourself in the looking glass, you found you were empty inside, a hollow vessel, waiting in vain for something to fill you up and give you purpose and meaning. you were vapid and beautiful. you were not sure what you were supposed to be.

how could you? your husband never looked at you unless you were underneath him like a dog. your little circle of friends did not care an ounce about the literature and philosophy you read. and the strangers in rags carrying baskets and babies on the streets simply asked you to pray for them, to care for them, for you to put in a word to your husband about them.

perhaps you were luckier than some. but luck did not mean substance, did not mean feeling. you knew this better than anyone.

so you retreated into yourself, studied philosophy and gazed at florence’s greatest artwork and wondered what it would mean to be aphrodite or mary or zeus: what it would mean to matter to something. would it would mean to be seen.

(but nanami saw you – every inch, every crevice, every pore. he saw through you with the sharp gaze of the artist who knows exactly what he is looking for.)

the name nanami kento was no stranger to you. it was a sacred name, a revered name, whispered in tandem with giotto and ghiberti and and donatello. an artist from across the sea, he was florence’s greatest celebrity, a shining beacon that reflected the essence of the renaissance, the essence of florence’s great and powerful mind. even before his arrival, rumors circulated that back in rome the pope had commissioned him a project so vast and detailed it had taken the first eight years of nanami’s career to complete it.

so when nanami kento finally came to florence, the city was aflame.

nanami sculpted marble; he coaxed life from dirt, turned stone into feeling. many remarked that they had wept openly at the feet of his tragic pieta, that they would be more than willing to sell their children and their horses and their homes for him to craft them but one piece of heaven. nanami kento, with the grace and easiness of earth and water, created life where there was none. nanami kento, for all his stoic demeanor, knew how to make his audience tremble.

nanami kento was a talented sculptor, yes: but he was more notorious, still, for refusing many of his desperate patrons. he did not need money, the rumors said, because the pope had paid him enough florins to last a hundred lifetimes or more. he did not need the excess money, the rumors said, because he was a man who would always feel he had enough. nanami kento was a sculptor in high demand. he could pick and choose at will, and he exercised this privilege freely.

but your husband, proud man he was, fearlessly captured nanami in his silver-tongued claws. we need more artwork, he’d told you in bed one night, voice thick with drink and the orgasm he had coaxed from himself but not from you. our house looks too bare – that da vinci painting in the dining room just isn’t enough. imagine if we secured nanami, who turned down the medicis? we’d be the talk of florence. it enthralled him, then, the idea of being one of the few families in all of florence who could secure nanami’s trust, who could secure his godly talent like a bird in a cage.

you never found out what your husband had told him. one morning you simply woke to find the servants preparing nanami a room in the south wing of the house, to find servants with heavy blocks of marble in tow, to find servants moving tables and supplies into what your husband proudly called the greatest art studio in florence.

(your husband was a patron to many famous artists, and never had he allowed them to work in his own home. you wondered just what it was that made nanami so different. you wondered just how much you cared to know.)

and then, when he arrived, your axis shifted.

nanami kento was, to put it simply, the most beautiful man in the universe: golden hair that mimicked sunlight, a sharp and solemn jaw, a steady demeanor, a pair of intimidating eyes. he walked through your halls with the ease of someone who understood himself, of someone did not question who he was or what he was meant to be. he was not hollow inside, but cool and contemplative and knowing.

he reminded you of the stories your father used to tell about the construction of the florence cathedral. your father – younger, then, and leaner – used to stand below the cathedral, watching in awe as the men placed the bricks that formed the dome, waiting with baited breath for the dome to collapse on itself. and it never did, he told you, because the foundation was solid, because its architect, brunelleschi, had god’s own genius.

nanami, too, carried the confidence of one who knew he would never collapse.

he did not laugh at your husband’s table. he did not smile at the jokes, at the meal, at you. he maintained a cold composure that mimicked the stone he worked with, spoke in clipped sentences that never wavered. nanami did not ask questions: he supplied only answers. you did not know if you liked him, then, but it was the aura of security enveloping his being that kept you asking for more.

nanami kento was, bluntly, a block of marble, and you were desperate to discover what was underneath.

so when he arrived the next morning, you shamelessly begged to watch him at work, claiming that you had unrealized artistic passions and that your health made it difficult to work. a lie, of course, but when you begged and begged and said your husband would not care, nanami kento let you in, dusty and slow.

nanami explained, plainly, that your husband had commissioned a sculpture of judith slaying holofernes. to protect the house, perhaps, and to preserve the sanctity of florence. you listened with half an ear: your husband did not want another judith to proclaim his florentine patriotism. he only wanted to rival the medicis with their precious little donatello.

(an ugly rendition of judith, if you did say so yourself.)

and of course, you didn’t care about the artistic process, not when sweat broke out in a glorious sheen across nanami’s forehead in the late afternoon heat. not when his biceps flexed beneath the light shirt he wore, when his nimble fingers dusted away the imperfections on the stone. certainly not when he bit his lip in intense concentration, hard and studious but never enough to draw blood. you never cared, not when he tilted his head back after you graciously handed him refreshments, adam’s apple bobbing in sway with your heartbeat.

you could have watched him the rest of your life. you could have eternalized him in stone.

why don’t you become a painter? you asked him, once, as he studied the block of marble from across the room, still and stiff and confident and cold.

painting is not sculpting, nanami had responded, crisply, steadily. he always came prepared with answers; he never paused to think. when you paint, you create. but when you sculpt, you coax forward a life that was already there, latent and waiting.

he looked in your eyes, then. and you knew. it was like he saw through you: like he knew you had treasure inside.

after four weeks of your incessant curiosities, four weeks of small talk and curious conversation, nanami began to arrive each morning with fresh loaves of bread for the kitchen staff and bouquets of flowers that he would place in a jar before he began his work. and as he sat alone in the studio during the early morning hours, even he began to pray, plainly, that you would arrive in the doorway, eyes glistening with sleep, begging to watch him sculpt.

(he returned your gaze, now, studying with seeming indifference the way your dress shifted when you walked and the way your eyes crinkled when you asked him about rome.)

you danced around each other like clockwork, with the predictable grace of earth and stone. he pretended he did not care: you knew, hopelessly, that he did.

nanami told your husband nothing about these swift developments. he told himself that he was a responsible man who would live and die alone. he told himself that he simply enjoyed the silence of your company. that he would, and could, defy his budding feelings towards you.

and then, finally, on a still morning when from the marble judith’s head began to emerge, he told you that you had a face worth recreating.

judith has a strong face, a face that displays vigor, conviction, confidence, nanami explained to you, cradling the smooth marble beneath his thumbs. judith may be a widow, but she has been gifted by god the strength to save her people from destruction. there is delicacy in that faith, a power in that action. there are not many women in florence with such a face.

you complained, then, that he should not sell the women of florence so short.

you have the face, he admitted simply, as if you should have known all along. you contain multitudes.

and so you stepped closer, wanting. and nanami did not look away. for to create judith, a face with your face, it would have been in bad practice for an artist as careful as nanami not to memorize the curve of your cheeks, the shape of your nose, the taste of your eager lips. it would have been in bad practice not to learn you entirely, to take your aura and transcribe it onto the stars.

(nanami kento took his jobs more seriously than religion or love or money. and he would not, could not, leave this one behind.)

and so it hung in the air, festering, like an open secret. every morning, nanami silently brought you flowers. you watched, all day, as judith face’s – now becoming your face – emerged from the stone. and in return, nanami watched you, with unwavering discipline, as you roamed your cold halls, took your husband’s criticism like a martyr, traveled to and from the cathedral on sundays with the hollow faith of a perfect ghost.

and in the evening, when nanami returned to his own home, you waved him off with dutiful grace. and with every goodbye, nanami held your blooming knuckles to his lips for a moment longer. and with every delicate kiss, you became less hollow, and more real.

so you circled each other, doves in the night, prayers whispered in shadow with the fear of no reply.

until you caved and kissed him first, on a warm afternoon sickly sweet with the smell of cakes and lemons and tarts wafting from somewhere far within. and you knew then, too, that you would damn yourself to hell with invigorating enthusiasm if it meant you could kiss him again.

nanami kento, unwavering, steady, kissed you back, and it was like finally coming home.

nanami kento worked with unwavering precision. and to craft his judith in your image, he declared with finality that he needed to know your face like the back of his hand. and he said it with such seriousness, too, that you did not doubt that he planned to map every kiss to memory, that his tongue would not, could not, forget the curve of your mouth and the sharpness of your teeth.

your face, nanami admitted, it contains multitudes. it reflects your soul – you are so much, so beautiful. to forget this face would be a crime.

he did not understand what it was your husband could not love. in a world of science and philosophy and understanding, as a man of considerable routine and clearheadedness, nanami did not see what it was your husband could not appreciate. did he not know? did he not see that your face was a forever-face? that your eyes made art just by blinking?

he doesn’t pay attention, you’d said, bitter and angry. he never knows me. you bit your lip when you confessed it, eyes scanning anywhere else in the room.

beautiful, nanami repeated, losing composure, unwinding. you are immaculate. i would sculpt you forever. he did not doubt himself, so neither did you. because if nanami kento said you were whole and beautiful and seen, you would be a fool not to believe him.

on sunny afternoons when your husband was away, nanami made love to you on his workbench with the delicacy of a humble believer bowing at the foot of the altar. stern and steady, with the overwhelming adoration of the devout, he placed a kiss on every part of your skin. your eyelids, for their clarity: your neck, for its fortitude: your stomach, for its strength: your fingers, for their delicacy.

your husband’s uncaring touch scarred you, burned you; but nanami’s hands, like sculpting marble, coaxed you to life with the confidence of one who knows he will never falter. he worshipped the ground you walked on with faultless logic, drowning in faith.

nanami favored kissing your thighs, tracing the pattern of your hips, the swell of your breasts. he liked to hear you beg for him, too, in that silver voice of yours, sweet and precious like a choirs of angels. when you begged for him to fill you with those vulnerably glassy eyes, nanami became the center of the universe, and he could never deny you such pleasure. he could never, not once, say no.

he enjoyed, too, even more than the begging, the roses that bled from your eyes and the sugar in your heart when he praised you. he did not know, before, that there could be a sight as heavenly as your dilated, unfocused pupils and your messy smile when he told you how you were beautiful, my love. so good for me. he did not know there could be something so intimate, so profound, as your love when he loved you completely.

(even more than your looks, he loved how you felt, clamping down with vigor while running nails down his back. it grounded him, and you. but he would never say it.)

after eating his lunch, nanami would diligently eat you with a swift precision so terrifying that it brought you to the edge before you knew it had begun. he would place you on the table, push away your skirts, and dive in, as if you were a holy communion he could not afford to lose. he coaxed orgasms from you the way he coaxed masterpieces from marble: easily.

and if the house staff heard your cries, you wouldn’t know, because to be with nanami kento, his nose shiny with you, made your blood pound in your ears.

then, later, nanami would hang his rosary with hunger and piety around your neck before he pressed into you, claiming that you were the most blessed of the saints, that he was overjoyed to pray at your altar, that you had the face of god and a heart as pure. and he would watch, transfixed, as the crucifix bounced between your tits, as christ himself became voyeur to the party.

you wondered, briefly, if during your weekly confessions the cathedral priests would simply know the way you had willingly called nanami god when he fucked you this well, the way nanami would make you lick your own slick off his fingers with docile obedience before pressing your quivering fingers to the rosary beads. but then nanami would go harder, deeper, grunting profanities into your ear, and you realized with bliss that you did not care.

for how could this be wrong when it felt so immaculate? how could you deny yourself nanami’s love when it made you feel so whole?

and when he felt strict, on days his sculpture annoyed him, nanami would ask you with his stern tongue to pray the hail mary while he viciously kissed your folds, knowing full well your sanity had already left you. he took pride in reprimanding you sharply on those days, a swift hand across your ass or your cunt when you could not remember the our father as he expertly located all of the sweetest places that made you scream most.

if anyone had asked, nanami would have told them he was a religious man: if, of course, the idol was you.

look at you, blessed saint, he growled into your ear, once, peering over your shoulder, hands firm and bruising in your hair and on your hips. mary magdalene, whore for christ. he forced you, then, to watch yourself in the studio mirror propped against the wall as he thrust roughly from behind, as your face contorted in an unspeakable pleasure: or, as nanami would say, art in its purest form.

nanami kento took his job more seriously than god. a diligent worker, he was, and god be damned if he did not make your knees week and your brain tremble before the late afternoon sun. he would be damned if he did not make eternal artwork out of you, if he did not sculpt the shape of your moans or memorize the way your nails scratched scripture onto his bare skin. if he did not eternalize the fucked-out look in your eyes. if he did not let the universe know you were a sight to behold, a sight that could not be forgotten.

you didn’t bother apologizing to god for your behavior. not when god was tall and blonde and could fold your knees into your chest and fuck you until you saw heaven for yourself. you didn’t bother apologizing because nanami kento made you feel seen and real and meaningful: and that was not something you could regret.

and so the judith stretched into incompletion. and so, nanami would explain to your husband, it is quite difficult to get the nose and eyes just right. it takes time to create the dynamism necessary for seven feet of judith slaying holofernes. you must understand. perhaps within the next year.

your husband was greedy for attention. of course he understood.

and he never questioned it, not once, when judith would sit for days on end without completion. he would not question it, because he was never home when nanami fucked you with the rosary pressed against your throat, when nanami carved the shape and sensation of his being into your skin. your husband was never home when you opened the windows to air out the smell of sweat and sex, when you dressed yourself with a lazy disposition and a soft smile and a rose-covered glow. he did not see the way nanami spoke with you, the way nanami kento saw you as a person and not a thing. he did not know. he never would.

and your husband learned not to ask when one month turned five and a year had passed and still, still, the finishing touches were not yet completed.

a masterpiece takes time, nanami repeated. i spent eight years on one commission in the vatican city.

your husband, grand and desperate to be better than lorenzo de medici, obliged. and so nanami took his time and yours, onwards and onwards.

one night, then, as the judith commission truly came to a close, nanami told your husband over dinner, if you want more, i will give you more, as repentance for taking so long. a sculpture of the virgin mary, perhaps?

nanami gazed at you in subtle adoration from across the table, already shaping you into eternity with his eyes, placing the veil over your head and the blessed christ in your arms. your husband agreed, of course, because he could only see victory.

and the butterflies bloomed in your chest, a champagne knowledge that you would be seen, that nanami would see you, know you, memorize you. and when you returned his gaze, hungry, you knew, instinctively, always, that you would follow nanami kento to the end of the world, whatever the price.

(and you did. and you do, still, in your many marble faces that catch the sun.)

#idk y'all smth in me just snapped #this is real self indulgent and weird #alas #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisten x reader #adele writes #it's hot in here #nanami.kento

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smndragon · 3 years

Text

GODS AND HOW THEY AFFECT PEOPLE PT 2

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOYED IM SO TIRED

Okay, so we established this is a possibility that they associate and gift their talents and eyes to people living. If you haven't seen that post it's on my master list/pinned post.

Gotta thank @i-would-marry-thunderhead though they didn't try they helped me find a missing piece on what I was looking for.

More thanks to @medusa12346 and @tulatodivine for helping me find the click to read more thing, I'm new so😶

It's not random. As planets rule zodiacs, it's know some gods rule them, and it's not just planets as not all mythology and religion is based on planetary stuff. For example, if Ares rules mars and Mars rules Aries. People with Aries in their chart are gifted some of the small things Ares has.

So here are the planets and what they rule along with some things the gods may gift you Greek and Roman style. If you would like other gods please ask I'm not well versed in many others it's been a while since I've researched.

Links (minor searching sorry it's late I also may have to finish readings tommorow though I do have to go somewhere so sorry): Wikipedia gods and planets ruling with this link there is also more religions and gods with planets so if you're interested look into it.

More on the planets and gods in longer versions

What zodiacs the planets rule

Let me clarify Wikipedia is not always trustworthy but my research will be short tonight.

Preferably they will be within the big 3 but there are also minor things to look into I can't remember all of a sudden I REMEMBER

Basically depending on if it's the sun, moon, or ascendant. These emotions could come out at certain times or moments

SUN:

Apollo seems to be talked about with the sun but it also looked like Helios was the main with Apollo helping out at times or more often so they'll both be here ig: like said they rule the sun and the sun rules Leo (guessed it lol ily guys) some gist given to you Leo charted people you may be gifted with the ability to partially know if something is a 'yes or no' you may get deja Vu at times as signs from Apollo. You are also of course gifted with the ability to look good in gold. Other things could be his beauty, tanned skin, gut senses, nice legs, running and etc I can't remember

From Helios you may be gifted with good sight and vision, strong feet I feel idk?, And so far strong connection to growing things (will maybe add more if found)

OKAY this is gonna be a while.

MOON:

Artemis and Selene (of course her) rule over the moon which rules over Cancer. Possible talents and gifts are animal connections, animal eyes watching over you as companions, medical knowledge, natural medicines also, Excellence in athletics Kirk archery and stuff to do with jumping.

Selene gifts you oohhh it's possible you could slide some Helios gifts here to because they're siblings apparently. I see youth, strong arms, strength (not overboard remember), elegant style in clothing, and the moons watch during the night.

To clarify, there also things to think of like planet aspects and fuck the numbers the tilt or some shit uhyy yeah that will tell how strong these abilities may be.

MERCURY: all this got deleted guys ughhh

Hermes rules mercury which is both surprising and not. Mercury rules Gemini and Virgo (who is also associated with Chiron). Possible gifts include running, determination, medium abilities (determined by what I stayed above also on strength), probably funny ass jokes. Fly, you're just gonna be fly af. Hermes was a very important god to me, he also signifies glory, domination, and success full filled to me so yeah. The ability to soother the people around you with either your voice or your touch, clear or nice voice.

VENUS: WHY ARE THERE 3 HERE?!!??!? I wanted to include the goddess Venus but we'll see😭

Aphrodite rules Venus understandably, Venus rules Taurus and Libra I believe. Possible talents and gifts are of course beauty, loved eyes, this so kind weird but musical talent, telepathy (little), birds as helpers (as in messengers to the clouds or many realms), possible skill for design.

I saw a name called cypris but I'm not sure that's true I looked into it just a bit and found someone named Cypress I don't know if they're related but I believe it's possible? Other names are Cyparissus or Kyparissos. They were liked or loved by Apollo. It's not big but what I read was interesting.

There was also a Cytherea, this was probably an alias or second name given or that of Aphrodite, knowing this there was also a place called Cyprus which leads me to believe Cypris was another alias or typo.

MARS:

As talked about before. Most of us know they rules over Mars, mars rules over Aries. Possible gifts could include determination (he may have been a little cowardly which makes sense as an Aries sun with my shyness), strength, talent in art or drawing idk why I just feel that, piano (also applies to Sagittarius ppl honestly), understanding languages also possibly? Crafty with tools and objects, tactic smart in small ways.

JUPITER:

I saw the name Dias which I wasn't sure on, Dias I believe is another alias and modern name for Zeus. Zeus rules Jupiter and Jupiter rules Sagittarius so thats also no surprise. Gifts and talents may be swimming, science, young literature and old, an eye for good things, blessings through touch (more on a topic I'll bring up later not strong here), dancing, hunting, generosity, a promise of children. I feel many people with Zeus or Ares in their chart may have been accused as witches in those centuries. (Random) that'd all I get right now

FOUR MORE

SATURN:

It said Cronus, I knew him as chronos (hit chronological order) which may have been wrong. He can go by that cronos, or kronos. He rules Saturn and Saturn rules Capricorn which also is understandable with relations between them. Talents and gifts may include: I feel like y'all may have thought you were telekinetic when you were younger💀, I see ginger hair here also, sticky fingers (stealth), time control (as in good with keeping time on track), perception of lies (the man was fooled right? True but I feel it's still smth small), faithfulness (also crazy uh), a gift of great smell, good taste in food choices, I feel like he raised a bunch of hand holders 💕💕 idk why I just do. That's all here

URANUS:

It says Ouranos which makes me think of Ouran highschool host club for some reason, I really would like a season 2. But it's funny cause I didn't know him and he seems pretty interesting though it seems like a minor role if he's the heavens personified that's some big stuff. He rules Uranus which rules Aquarius, possible talents and gifts could be (BLINDING LIGHTS IS PLAYING THIS IS GOOD UGHH I LOVE THIS SONG) alright back to it. Talents like, singing, clairaudience, intuitiveness, a love for curiosity and knowledge, liked skin and proportions, natural attraction, believable, natural leader when younger though maybe not as grown idk.

NEPTUNE:

Of course ruled by Poseidon. Idk why I still add the planets it's the thing above🤦🏽‍♀️ I just make this harder on myself. Neptune rules Pisces. Gifts and talents could be creativity, building, imagination, pull towards earth, swimming, attraction to people also (in a way that your looks capture people as Pisces is beautifully soft), strong senses of the eyes and ears, technology, either quiet or loud voice.

PLUTO:

The official one for Greeks is Hades, there was a name before called Plouton or Ploútōn another name for Hades. Pluto rules Scorpio, also guessed. Gifts and talents may be excelling in curricular concepts like philosophy, leadership (you guys can lead double lives but you're good rulers ngl kinda manipulative at them tho), you guys could probably background check me through connections with ppl lol, people confide in you often this is good cause I feel you feel loved by this, risk takers (Hades is kinda 'out of the circle' which leads to thoughts that Scorpios like to explore and be chaotic because of this at times they're finally free on earth), down to earth or way up high one way or another no in-between, natural ideas that people can't help but fall for, the ability to be unnoticed when wanted, stealthy, quick under pressure. you guys make this world more enjoyable over all there's not much ik you guys are just amazing to me for some reason.

END

that's all there but more to add on are things like blood line theory, if you are a natural descendant of a god (not by literal blood just chosen exactly by them) then there's a chance your abilities will be stronger and you will make a more greater imprint on the world. Not all of these were used for good. They cna be used to any advantage.

I believe asteroids also have something to do with the gods so if you would like to hear something on that please ask!

All in all this post took about 2 hours and 30 mins or close which isn't bad. Sorry if anything was missed and please share your ideas on this I love hearing them!

Coming back to say I'm surprised Hera wasn't here I was looking forward to her

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pjo-whore · 3 years

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Percy Jackson At Hogwarts

Chapter 1: Wizards Are What Now?

Look, Percy never wanted to be half-blood.

Being a half-blood – the child of a mortal human and a god – was dangerous. It was scary. Most of the time, on top of having neglectful parents and a dysfunctional and incestuous family that wanted you dead for petty reasons, it got you killed in other painful, nasty ways.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Percy didn’t feel envious of the kids who didn’t have to deal with the mythological world.

Percy Jackson was seventeen years old. Until a month ago, he was fighting a war against a Greek primoradial, the Earth Mother incarnate, Gaea – also known as his great grandmother. Before that, he fought in a war against his grandfather, Kronos, Greek Titan of Time, who wanted to overthrow the Olympian gods and take over the world and the Empire State Building. Somewhere in between he also found time to spend a month in literal Greek hell, Tartarus, who also happened to be his great grandfather, and who also tried to murder him on sight.

Was Percy a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

And right now, he was still trying to clean up the mess from the Second Giant War.

Now that there wasn’t a war looming overhead, the gods’ recent exploits were coming to light, and new demigods were popping up everywhere, everyday. The number of demigods skyrocketed now that they were actively searching and not waiting for them to stumble into Camp on their own.

But that also meant there were new kids to train, more demigods for the gods to claim, and less time to recoup from the recent war.

Less than a month had passed since Gaea’s defeat.

The days were filled with helping each other get back on their feet, rebuilding the camps, and trying to keep the fragile peace in order.

There was still a lot to sort out, and the gods weren’t as hands-on as most would like. There was conflict building up. News spread about how the gods helped the seven demigods of the prophecy fight the giants, because a giant couldn’t be killed by a mortal alone, and this made many jealous and angry. The gods could pop in for a single battle when it was their own ass on the line, but not when a group of their own literal kids needed to rebuild their home that was dedicated to the gods?

Besides Chiron and Dionysus, the only god to physically stay at Camp Half-Blood following the battle against Gaea due to his punishment from Zeus, there were no other adults. The oldest demigods were barely twenty. Despite age, most, if not all, the demigods looked to the prophecy demigods for guidance and leadership.

Annabeth, Jason, Percy, Piper, and Nico.

The brunt of the responsibility fell on the daughter of Athena, and the son of Poseidon. They led their Camp through the Second Titan War, and now they were survivors of another war.

Things weren’t easy for a long time.

The Camp was completely ravaged.

During Gaea’s seize of the Greek demigod Camp, the cabins were burned by the monsters and toppled by Gaea’s massive earthquakes. Not even the Big House – the staple of Camp Half-Blood, the oldest building on the lot – survived the attack.

Camp Jupiter didn’t fare any better, but their buildings had been more structurally sound, thicker and built of material that didn’t burn and crumble. Enough buildings were still standing well enough to inhabit.

Everything had to be rebuilt for Camp Half-Blood.

Nobody could be sent home – to their mortal homes, with mortal parents, and a mortal life, mortal being the slang for “normal” among the mythological world – despite the new lack of residency at Camp Half-Blood. Kids needed to heal. There were nightmares and PTSD. Trauma and concussions. People to be counted, bodies missing, some so mauled they were impossible to identify. Several bodies were unearthed from the ground, sucked in by Gaea’s attack and suffocated beneath the dirt.

Shrouds were made for those who could be identified, the unknown buried in unmarked graves to be remembered. Those who were missing were given honorary shrouds, unknowing if they were in one of the unmarked graves. The Romans were unable to do their traditional funeral rituals, transporting the bodies all the way to Camp Jupiter, and were burned in shrouds alongside the Greeks.

Mortal parents simply couldn’t help.

They couldn’t fathom their children being in a war.

There were fears that demigods would be taken away from Camp Half-Blood by their mortal parents, horrified at what their kids were put through. Chiron especially worried about demigods who would be kept from Camp by parents, forcing them to live alone without any mythological world support, to defend against monsters on their own, without any magic or special weapons.

So, among the remaining able-bodied demigods, Greeks alongside Romans worked together to erect the new Big House. Tents from the Romans’ siege on Camp Half-Blood were gifted to the Greeks to provide residency until the new cabins were built, while the Romans started to march back home.

During all the chaos, Percy didn’t have any time to sit down and process all that happened.

The whole Camp looked up to him as a leader, but Percy didn’t feel very strong or wise.

He only felt bitter.

There were some who walked by and whispered “lucky” and “prophecy.”

Some who stopped talking as soon as he walked into the room.

Those who acted like he wasn’t even human, just some untouchable hero; but they ostracized him.

Percy was aware that he was one of the so-called “lucky” campers; lucky being compared, because at least he walked away with all his limbs intact.

It didn’t feel like he was lucky.

He wasn’t unscathed. He bore many scars, visible and not. His time in Tartarus was an impossible nightmare on bad nights, and a shadow on good days.

Percy was learning that he had triggers.

He was learning Annabeth did, too.

Neither liked using elevators.

Annabeth’s expression went tight when Percy used his powers around her. She turned away, sometimes completely leaving the area.

She got antsy in the dark, a childhood fear resurfaced.

There were other little things; at night when she had nightmares she would toss and turn in bed, sweating through her clothes and sheets, despite the breeze being cold. Sometimes Annabeth would completely avoid Percy, acting snappish, always coming back and apologizing in the end, and they would hold each other like they were hanging over the chasm again.

Annabeth refused to talk about what she saw in her nightmares, and Percy never pushed. He was one of the only people who could understand what she was going through.

Sometimes all they could do was sit and try to drown out the memories of The Pit.

Percy’s triggers were different.

He developed a deep-seated hatred for empousai. The moment he saw one, his body started to shake with adrenaline and nerves, fire flashing before his eyes.

Percy could no longer look at the stars without feeling a deep loss, tears pricking at his eyes.

He prayed to his father, Poseidon, more often, as if trying to re-establish his connection to the sea, to re-establish his connection to the Overworld, as if that could cleanse him of what happened in The Pit. As if he could wash away the touch of The Pit.

Percy’s nightmares were always blurry and violent. He wouldn’t snap awake like others. He didn’t startle or jerk upright. He didn’t make a single noise. He would wake silently, and lay there in bed, eyes open and unseeing, that shattered glass feeling he always dreaded at the bottom of his stomach. After he could never go back to sleep, and he would get up and sit on the tile in his cabin for hours and look in the mirror and wait for the image to change. He would wait for it to reflect what he feared, though it never did.

“Okay, so, how big is the situation? Is it like, ‘Aphrodite lost her hairbrush again’ big? Or is it ‘Gaea has risen again’ big?”

Annabeth frowned. “I don’t know. All Chiron said was that a god needed our help – and I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the sound of that.” She chewed her bottom lip in thought as they headed toward the Big House. They had been asked to attend a private meeting with Chiron, outside of the camp counselor meeting. “He sounded serious, too. Whichever god it is must be an asshole to seek help so soon after the war.”

She wasn’t wrong, Percy thought.

Jason was appointed Pontifex Maximus in Camp Jupiter, and as such he was responsible of advising the praetors, ruling over the Camp Jupiter counsel, and overseeing the work and prayers to the minor gods. His promise to Kymopoleia to bring worship and awareness for all minor gods became his fulltime job, and it was ruled that most gods must go through Jason to request help from either demigod camp.

A god asking for help directly after a full-scale war? Using Chiron as their connection? It was a hit below the belt, and it made Percy frustrated.

A few demigods raised their heads in greeting as Percy and Annabeth passed by the arts and crafts center. Conner and Travis Stoll, who were trying to build bombs with bits and pieces from the forge, took one look at Percy, then at Annabeth, and wiggled their brows suggestively. Percy unsubtly stuck them the bird, and they started to laugh their assess off.

The Big House was smaller now, after being rebuilt.

What could be scavenged from the attic was saved, but most of it was lost. Magical artifacts and ancient texts were burned and crushed. Now the Big House served mostly as the infirmary, aside from the drop-by medicinal tent near the Apollo cabin, where more medical supplies were. The Apollo and Hephaestus cabins had been the first to be rebuilt because they gave needed services.

Aside from the infirmary, the Big House had a commons area for meetings, and housed a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.

Checking in the commons area, Chiron was in his wheelchair. Nico was sitting at the beloved ping pong table, which had somehow survived the siege on Camp, and Thalia was sitting backwards on a chair by the new counselor table, which no one ever used.

Percy sat next to Nico and twirled the ping pong paddle between his hands, Annabeth taking her usual seat during counsel meetings.

Chiron looked tense.

“Now, I know that only a month has passed since the end of the Second Giant War, but –”

The air practically sparked with the collective tension that built.

“– a new quest has been issued.”

Annabeth leaned forward in her seat, interested. “Chiron, you can’t have an official quest without a prophecy. And the last time I checked; the Oracle of Delphi wasn’t working right now.”

“Well, it’s a good thing this isn’t a quest from the Greek pantheon, then.”

Percy cocked a brow and shared a look with Annabeth.

“The Roman pantheon doesn’t have an oracle, and their last augur exploded himself, so –”

“It’s a friend of Lady Hecate, the Triple Goddess.”

Dead silence.

“The Triple Goddess?” Percy parroted. “I don’t follow.”

“The Triple Goddess is of the Old Religion, once practiced in Europe hundreds of years ago by the druids and magic users in general. It belonged to Albion, a land of five kingdoms, before it split into the United Kingdom and Ireland.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Nico said.

“All those years ago, in the middle ages, after the golden age of the Greek pantheon, the Old Religion became very popular in Albion. Magic was something that anyone could practice even if they weren’t born with the innate talent, with the proper training. Through the ages, though, the religion declined, and the New Religion rose and became the staple. While the Old Religion relied on the magic of the land, sea, and sky; the New Religion relied on your inner magical core, and so not everyone could do this new magic.”

Chiron shifted in his wheelchair and pulled out a small stack of photos, but when he tossed them onto the ping pong table, the demigods saw that they held moving pictures.

In one photo, it showed a person standing over a boiling cauldron, on the wooden table beside them, old parchment with a quill that moved by itself, writing on the paper. The picture moved slightly, the character stirring the cauldron. Then the animated picture reset and repeated.

In another photo, two persons stood facing each other, holding purposefully shaped wooden sticks, pointing them at each other. Bright lights exploded from the tips of the sticks, and their robes and hair swayed with strong winds.

In the last photo, a person was wearing a uniform of sorts, with a helmet and pads on their knees and elbows. They held an old broomstick between their knees, and metal hinges held on the back close to the bristles, like a hitch for the feet. In the picture, the person grabbed onto the end of the broomstick and shot into the air, like magic. It gave image to the stereotype of witches flying on brooms in the night.

“The Old Religion died out because the land lost its magic. Only select spots held magical creatures and natural magic. Magic was only preserved through the New Religion, and those who practiced the New Religion became witches and wizards. The lot of them went into hiding and created their own society – the wizarding world.”

“In today’s day and age, magic is passed down through genetics. And sometimes, those with magic cores can be born to those with no magic at all. The population of magic users stays stable, and there is balance in the world of magic …” Chiron winced. “Mostly.”

“But these people have lost contact with the Triple Goddess. They no longer worship or prayer to her. They rely solely on their own magic, not what comes naturally from the land, like in the Old Religion. And recently, war has passed for them. The Second Wizarding War ended four months ago. And this has severely depleted their resources and magic. There is a school for the magic users, used as the stronghold during the war, and now the wizarding world’s hero is returning to finish his studies.”

“His moniker is ‘The Boy Who Lived,’ and he’s called Harry Potter. But he was only a child – is only a child. He and his peers are children who have been used to fight a war that they shouldn’t have had to fight.” Chiron looked very grim.

Percy bitterly sank back in his seat.

“We were kids, too.”

Chiron sighed. “This war has thrown the balance of magic out of whack. The natural magic has been depleted for too long, and there are those who are actively tipping the balance to sabotage the magic for their own gain. It’s suspected that the dark forces from the war – Death Eaters – are still operating in the shadows. It is because of this that the Triple Goddess has called upon you as heroes to help restore the wizarding world and save magic.”

“You would only be obligated to attend the school of Hogwarts until you uncovered the source of oppression over magic, so the Death Eaters can be caught and restrained. If you choose to accept, of course.”

Percy eyed him sharply. “You say that as if we have a choice.”

Chiron pursed his lips. “Despite what you think, yes, you do.”

“But this is from a whole other pantheon,” Nico said. “A group of magical people who don’t even believe in the goddess who brought about their magic. Why do we have to fix this?”

More silence.

Chiron looked down on them unapologetically.

Percy shifted uncomfortably, looking over at Annabeth. Chiron seriously expected them to just up and leave Camp for this quest. Barely a month had passed since their own war, and they were getting by as they were. Percy didn’t believe Camp Half-Blood could afford to lose any support or cabin counselors, even for a short period of time.

“So, let me get this straight,” Percy said. “Basically – if I just ignore the little prologue, you gave there – you want us to go to this magical school, on orders of a goddess that’s almost faded, stalk a kid, and watch out for people who like to try to rob the world of magic – magic, which they use themselves.”

Chiron looked pained. “No, I don’t believe they’re purposefully robbing the world of magic.”

“Oh, well that clears everything up.” Percy threw his hands in the air.

“Regardless, you understand what’s being asked. This is a quest, technically coming from Hecate, as a favour for the Triple Goddess. It’s valid as a hero’s quest. It was decided it would be best that you go undercover as transfer students and secretly watch over Harry Potter, the target for most Death Eaters. Your goal is to prevent trouble before it gets serious, though I doubt that will be hard, as trouble always manages to find you –”

“Wait, hold on,” Percy said, still hung-up on the quest. “How are we supposed to fit in at a school for the magically gifted? None of us are wizards.”

“Oh, that is something that can easily be fixed,” Chiron said, dismissing the problem.

“Excuse me?!” Thalia said.

“Hecate considered this quest from the Triple Goddess for a long time before coming to me.”

Percy rolled his eyes. Out of everyone in the room, he had the least faith in the gods. They never gave him anything to have faith in.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at the camp director. “And how exactly does Hecate plan on ‘fixing’ the problem? I don’t see any obvious solutions. We’re demigods, not wizards.”

Chiron shifted awkwardly. “She has not shared that with me. I have only gotten the request that you undertake this quest for the Old Religion, and that she will visit to prepare you.”

Percy felt like grinding his teeth. “Oh, so she just expected us to accept the quest. She never considered us refusing? Why can’t the wizards fix their own problem?” Chiron said nothing. “Camp is still in shambles – we don’t even have all the cabins rebuilt yet! We can’t leave, not now. There’s still too much work to do here, and too many new demigods to watch over and protect. And have you even considered that maybe we don’t want to go on this quest? That maybe we want a break? My entire childhood was prophecy after prophecy, quest after quest, serving the gods. We’re under no obligation to do this. You can tell Hecate that she can stick her magic wands up –”

He didn’t get the chance to finish because Annabeth had already taken a ping pong paddle and smashed a ping pong ball in his direction, the mutual action used to keep order in camp counselor meetings.

“BALL!” Annabeth yelled, slamming her paddle across the table.

Percy scowled and took his seat again.

“Now, Percy,” she said sweetly, leaning over the table. “Where did you say Hecate could put those wands?”

“Nowhere,” he muttered.

Annabeth acquiesced and put the paddle down.

“Where is this school anyway?” Nico asked. He frowned. “And Hogwarts? What kind of name is that?”

“It resides in Scotland, its exact location unknown and hidden by powerful magic. Outside of the school, which is an ancient and famous monument for the wizarding world, there are other magical establishments. One place you will be required to visit is Diagon Alley, a wizarding market. That’s where you’ll collect your resources for going undercover at school.”

“Again, you’re saying all this like we’ve agreed to go,” Percy mumbled.

He was ignored. Thalia raised her hand, her features etched with confusion. “Okay, I hate to be the one to say it – but how are we supposed to blend in with wizards and witches? We can’t use magic, and we know nothing about their world.”

Chiron admitted he didn’t know how Hecate would find ways around the problems. “She has informed me that, only once the quest is accepted, will she come and discuss the details. In fact, she should be arriving any moment –”

What happened next could not have been anymore dramatic.

There was a blinding flash of light – the glow filling the entire room – and it forced the demigods to cover their eyes lest they go blind from laying eyes upon a god’s true form.

All eyes landed on the goddess, technically titaness.

Hecate appeared as a tall, thin woman. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a kekryphalos, the shining coil twisting and adorned with intricate gems and metals. Loose strands of hair framed her sickly pale face, which held sharp chartreuse yellow eyes. She wore a dark chiton robe that draped over her thin figure, and it seemed to ripple like a heat hallucination, like ink spilling off to the ground.

At her feet, she was accompanied by a black Labrador retriever and a polecat.

The demigods all stood as one and politely bowed, as was common for all gods. Percy glared up through his bow as he followed reluctantly.

“Rise, my young heroes.” The goddess’ voice was smooth and rich. She sounded monotone. “You have done more than enough to prove your worth to me, and for that, I know that I can trust you. I have called you four here on special request from the Triple Goddess, who has observed your acts of heroics. She believes you can save the wizarding world, her beloved kin, and magics.”

“You will use the ways of the Old Religion to learn magics and go undercover. As demigods, you already have magical cores. They just need to be trained; refined.”

Percy scowled.

“And will the oh-so-gracious Triple Goddess be visiting us herself?”

Annabeth shot him a scathing look.

“Percy!” She hissed.

Hecate eyed Percy again, as if reappraising him. “No,” she said, after a tense silence. “You will be sent to get your wands from one who still practices the Old Religion and can pair you with an appropriate wand. Your cover stories are fabricated and with the wandmaker. The Triple Goddess does not appear without dire need.”

“Her entire world being in trouble seems pretty dire to me,” Percy muttered under his breath.

Annabeth elbowed him harshly.

Hecate narrowed her eyes.

“This,” she said, pulling a laminated piece of paper out of thin air, “is called a portkey. It is an enchanted item; when touched by the intended people, or random persons, it can magically teleport you to a predetermined location.”

She held it out to demigods.

On it, in fancy letters, it read: Littletree Farms, Dorchester, Boston, Massachusetts.

“Touch this, all at once, and you will have accepted the quest.”

Chiron gave them an encouraging nod. The demigods all shared exchanged looks.

“Our responsibilities …” Thalia started, subconsciously reaching up to grab at her lieutenant circlet, from the Hunters of Artemis.

“Will be forgiven for the time while on quest,” Hecate assured. “The Triple Goddess does not ask favours lightly. This has the potential to spill into the real world; to affect our pantheon. The Old Religion is younger than the Greek pantheon, but its reach goes far and wide. The Triple Goddess is powerful; no harm will befall your precious little Camp while you are away.”

Nico hesitated, but was the first to reach for the paper. “If this is really that important … why ask for us specifically? A larger group, organized and planned, could do better.”

“The Triple Goddess has observed you, and believes you are the right heroes to help save magic.”

“But right now? This instant? Can’t we have time?”

“You will come back to your little Camp before you leave for Europe.”

Annabeth pursed her lips, then also reached for it. “Okay.”

Percy looked at her, askance. “Okay? Just like that?”

Annabeth shrugged. “A quest is a quest, and someone needs help. We are in peace right now and have no threats. I don’t see why not.”

“Fine,” Percy said, tone short. He looked over at the laminated paper. “So, this will take us where? What’s in Boston that could be so magical?”

“A wand wood farm,” Hecate said, smiling thinly. “And your quest starts now.”

Percy’s eyes snapped to the paper, where Hecate had pushed it into their collective hands unwillingly. Then the world began to spin, and there was a sharp tug in his gut, yanking him out of time and space.

#pjo #hp #percy jackson #harry potter #pjo x hp #crossover #percy #annabeth #nico #thalia #part 1 #magic percy

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greekbros · 3 years

Text

"greek-Bros Headcanon: The Big 6"

Zeus:

-Pretty much everything about him is pretty standard, including him being your regular man. Flaws and all. Oddly enough he isn't that truly complicated as an individual, after all, all mankind IS mostly modeled after him and few other gods.

-As he and the others were assigned their devine positions, he started taking up attributes of the sky and his own consignated animal the eagle, like feathers instead of hair, incredible eyesight and a tendency to create electricity with excessive movement or emotional outbursts. He's towering and under his more comfortable toga he's fucking BUILT.

-He's a rather decent father by ancient Greek standards, yes almost everything he has done according to mortal men have happened. Of course his own children weren't going to argue against him. However, he always has his offspring and so on in mind. He tries to interact with his children in meaningful ways as much as he can or want, regardless he isn't a forgetful man....just a 'busy' one.

-In spite of his powerful and stern demeanor, he is always constantly at odds with his own inner demons. He's ALWAYS questioning his past actions, he laments his terrible and questionable decision he had ever impulsively but he does take up the traditional mantle of "masculine density" and rarely shows his emotions. When he does show his emotions, it's either heartbreaking or a loud storm targeting said source of destress.

-He deeply loves Hera in every sense of the word, but he has "such a big heart he can't just keep it to himself", quote Zeus. Regardless, he still acts on his impulses and is the root of all his problems. Legend has it, his very essence accidentally created King Henry the 8th and many other historical heartbreakers.

-In spite of making up many of the rules of humanity (with extra help of the rest of his siblings), human mortals have always had a terrible habit of breaking these rules. Zeus has made so.many of these rules that he's just stop keeping up with keeping mortals in place. He just kind of let's things happen. At this point of his existence, his only concern now is to make sure other gods are following their rules.

-He HATES child sacrifices. Mostly because when a living thing gets sacrificed it comes in flesh and blood directly to the land of the gods. So naturally, there is a complete population of "ascended" mortals and animals in Olypmus....and he already has his hands full. Plus he just doesn't like the principal of it all. He genuinely hates children getting hurt in the first place.

-HIS list of enemies is a kilometer long. It includes everything that's a titan, some of his own children (and grandchildren), Hera to a very small extent and Hades.....even though there has been literally NOTHING that has proven Hades is a threat to him.

-The main reason why Zeus adamantly believes that Hades is out to get him is because of HOW he assigned Hades to be god of the underworld..... basically, he asked Hades to check a dark cave.....and closed the cave entrence while he and Poseidon ran off. Hades ironically doesn't care about this and has no real intensions of taking revenge on Zeus for anything, the fact Zeus haphazardly gave him a wife and lives in constant paranoia gives him solence.

-He is extremely defensive of Hermes and Dionysus. Inspite of his claim of loving all his offspring equally, he feels a deeper connection to Hermes considering that he was to be considered the "prodigal usurper" before Dionysus, meanwhile Dionysus is his youngest son with the most responsibility for a god so naturally he's going to keep a closer eye on both just a little bit more. In terms of familiar respect, Athena and Apollo are tied as his most "important" children.

-After Athena's birth, Zeus's mental fortitude, better judgement and intellectual integrity has completely been capped. He constantly has headaches, tends to make terrible decisions, tends to be forgetful, and goes through terrible flashbacks to anything that can come to mind. He still loves and respects his daughter but he has to admit her very presence gives his a headache. It's rumored that his brain is 2/5ths of what it use to be.

-He has no control over Hera and never will. After several take overs, a very nasty scroll call from Nyx for threatening to harm Hypnos, and having several lovers killed by her, he's completely decided that fighting her or arguing with her. He would still end all.of existence for her.

-The only entities he truly fears is Nyx, Gaia and Aphrodite. Nyx being a more intimidating foe of his, Gaia being his own grandmother and Aphrodite being a she-titan who for reason decided it was cash-money as fuck to just take residence in Olypmus.....that....and a good small chunk of his afairs were caused by her and her son Eros.

-He STILL has no idea how Heracles inherited his THICCNESS. He may consider himself thicc but Heracles couldn't have gotten from him.

-He adores all his followers and considers them worthy of answering their prayers.... Except for one. Lycaon.

-He loves giving Hera pet names but due to her burning anger towards him, she won't let him....even though she loves the pet names he gives her.

-He has many professional relationships and alliances with other gods. However he has had a long on-going distrust of the Sumerian gods. He just finds them to be a little too private in comparison to the rest of his fellow gods. That and he's actually jealous of their near perfect beards. His beard tends to sprout stray down feathers.

Hera:

-She was assigned to be the goddess of marriage and the household, however, she has assigned herself as the goddess of the mind, heart and soul. Because as it turns out, she causes more boughts of madness more than Eris and Dionysus combined. She also controls female intuition and matters of personal strength. She's the force that helps feel when something isn't right or when you feel like you need to do something important wether being benign or malignant. She basically IS your emotional support mom/aunt, but she controls you and your emotions. However she actually uses this ability in moderation.

-She is considered as "Step-Mom" by most of Zeus's out of wedlock offspring. She's always extremely shrewed, vindictive and most of the time outright nasty....but that's about it. She will attempt to get you once or twice but if she senses that it could be a massive waste of her time than she'll just make your life a smig shittier. However, she not an "evil" step mom, more of a step mom who has to get use to her step-children, it will take some work for both parties but deep down she's just angry at Zeus.

-She hates Zeus's children, but she isn't heartless, quite the opposite, children are children in her mind regardless if it's hers or not. She'll make it hard for you but if you ask her for help or ask her in the right manner, she will be delighted to help.

-She is your quintessential woman, she loves jewels, the finer things in life, small animals (especially birds) and she can be either the sweetest or the meanest. After all, like Zeus who created MAN, she created WOMAN. Legend has it she actually let the rest of the gods collaborate as a way to make them feel better. Or at least that's how she puts it, turns out Hermes and Aphrodite made a deal to make more like "them" than Hera intended. While MAN was built pretty close to Zeus's intended design, WOMAN was designed with Aphrodite's beauty and tender nature, while Hermes gave "a dirty mind" much like how MAN were given. Basically WOMAN and MAN are completely equal in everyway regardless of "differences".

-Shes also adopted some inhuman attributes, she grows feathers on some portions of her hair, she feels insecure about them but Zeus adores this because it reminds him that's birds mate for life. Her feathers look more like feathers of a peahen and seamlessly blends with her hair.

-Her ONLY desire is for Zeus to stop cheating on her. She literally wants nothing more. That, and for Dionysus and Apollo to stop steal her dresses for their own endeavors.

-She loves her biological children and their offspring but somehow they keep disappointing her. Ares loves a woman who cheats on Hephaestus and Hebe is in love with the son of the woman who Zeus cheated with. She believes it's karma but at the same time she couldn't be less surprised.

-She loves Hephaestus, but due to his limped leg and his more rugged appearance, she barely tolerates looking at him. Which is strange because Hephaestus heavily resembles Zeus.

-She knows the truth about Erichthonius. He's also her favorite grandson. She has her eye on almost everything, she actually saw the whole drama between Athena and Hephaestus. At first she wanted to intervene but after she noticed this consummated a child and saw how Athena took initiative to take care of the child regardless of her chastity, it gained a little more respect for Athena. Being raised to be a wise young man by Athena and being Hephaestus's biological son, Erichthonius has been secretly considered the most successful grandchild to her.

-Her favorite animals are birds, Zeus as a webbing present gave her the chance to create birds. Thanks to her, the skies are filled with songs.

-She doesn't have a lot of enemies, however, Aphrodite is a big contender against her. While Hera controls the integrity of women, Aphrodite controls their emotional and sexual impulses. So Hera is at constent odd against her...that...and the main reason why Hera married her off to Hephaestus because she wanted to make amends to him....not make his life anymore worse than it already is.

-Hera is aware how most of Zeus's children feel about her, but she appreciates it dearly when one of them does something nice for her....even though she probably demanded it or care for it.

Poseidon and Amphitrite:

-Hes absolutly BOMBASTIC. He's the most carefree of his brothers, most physically fit and considered the most handsome.

-His marriage is ironically WORSE than Zeus's, but he and Amphitrite consensually agreed to pretend nothing is wrong.... apparently it works like a charm and they barely fight. However this is considered a massively concerning situation to Zeus and Hera because the both of them know that a relationship that doesn't regularly express their grievances...often end sour.

-Like his siblings, he's adopted physical attributes that correspond to their environment. Apparently, he has grown gills, his 'beard' is actually octopus tentacles and he has scales in certain places. He can shapeshift into many aquatic creatures.

-Unlike his brothers, his offspring are genetic tossups. One can look relatively ok, another can be a cyclops for no reason. His most famous child is Triton, but the poor lad is a rather simple and humble young mad who has very little aspersions in life. Poseidon tries to encourage him to do something productive but Triton just sort of falls below average in popularity.

- He's the best horseman in all of Greece, in fact his love for horses only rivals his love for literally trying to destroy humanity and his wife.

-He has a love/hate relationship with his nephews. However if you would ask him which nephew he dislikes the most, it would be Dionysus. Oddly enough, Dionysus actually likes to antagonize Poseidon, mostly because he's actually more strict than his dad. It wasn't until the invention of the dolphin that made Dionysus's and Poseidon's relationship between each other a little better. Poseidon has a less innocent hatred for Athena, after losing patronship over Athens, he's sworn vengeance over her. However it's more akin to sending really annoying Facebook messages rather than epic natural disasters. Once a year, he enjoys terrorizing Athens through changing the spring water to saltwater for a few days, make all the horses aggressive and give "oddly constent" tremors.

-If it wasn't for Zeus proposing to Hera first, he would have married her instead. Even though the two had married different people, it always seemed the two had a very interesting chemistry.

- Even though there may be a serious discourse on who it's Theseus's father. The reality is Poseidon doesn't actually want to claim Theseus as his own for mysterious reasons.

-He never sent a different bull to Minos, Poseidon took the form of a bull and cursed Pasiphaë. This was the first account of a god that WASN'T Aphrodite and Eros to have caused someone to be sexually attracted by magic. This has been a family secret between the big 6 for years because if any other gods found out they could just will people's passion, the world be in a state of pure chaos. Poseidon however has an even dirtier secret, he didn't use his godly powers on Pasiphaë, instead he just found a way to get her specifically attracted to him in bull form by using an old recipe for an aphrodisiac from the sunken city of Atlantis. He doesn't tell the truth about this because he's an asshole that way. He finds it more useful to have the other gods believing he had something in reality he didn't have.

- He has a fun hobby of naming his horses the most adorable and somewhat random names, like "Peach Basket", "TootsieFoot" and ect. It ended up being a traditional way of naming race horses in racing derbies.

- He has absolutly no love for humans. He enjoys that mortals worship him and such but the fact he has an entire ocean at his and his wife's disposal, he honestly feels that he has very little need for mortal worshippers....at least this is what he originally thought until his power was contested by an ocean god named Dagon. Long story short, Poseidon no longer takes mortals for granted anymore....and likely never will.

- Poseidon is Olypmus's most prolific warden, like Hades, Poseidon has his own prisoners of war. Most of them being titans, monsters, giants and occasionally malignant gods. It's even argued that he's a much more strict jailer considering being sealed away by Poseidon is a death sentence.

-His greatest pleasure is people enjoying themselves in water in positive ways. Swimming, playing games, and gently interacting with marine animals. However his greatest distain comes from mortals misusing his ocean.

- He has a professional relationship with mostly other Greek water gods and anything related to water. He monitors the water nymphs, consoles all horse-like beasts and so on and so forth.

- She has equal control of the ocean just like her husband. In fact, she has equal control of half of everything Poseidon has. Apparently this is what helps their marriage and it almost makes up for Poseidon's eccentric behaviors.

- Not much is known about her, but based on her interactions, she's a lot more nicer and more gentle than Poseidon when it comes to leadership. She's generous, eccentrically fabulous and has the same energy of a 1920's rich hamptons housewife.

-Shes genuine friends with all of the goddesses and she rarely plays on a specific team. She's a bizzarly lucid gal who loves to lend a shoulder to cry on.

-She and only she has the semi-chaotic energy to tolerate Poseidon and his afairs.

- If Poseidon wants to do something, he would HAVE to ask Amphitrite for permission. After all it isn't "Your side, your rules", it's a partnership between a married couple.

Demeter:

- Controlling over the domain of the earth and harvest, you'll always see some type of vegetation growing on her. It mostly appears as if she fashionably placed strands of wheat grain, fruit flowers and leaves inductive of the season. She and Hestia are the only ones of the big six who don't have animal based attributes. Demeter is also the tallest of the sisters.

-Her input in important matters usually revolve around conservation, providing sustenance and extra maternal perspective. It's contestant as well that she can even be more motherly than Hera, even at her most grim demeanor.

-She is a loving and doting mother. She's the most gentle of the goddesses and yet she can be just as harsh when she needed to.

-She consideres the earth her personal garden, but she shares it with world. Her favorite activity is to create new and exciting plants with Persephone (Or Kore as she prefers to call Persephone) and spending time with her.

-She has other offspring but she doesn't make a fuss about their fathers and their lack of presence. As long as she can keep all of them safe, it's all she needs and cares about.

- Demeter can easily put everyone in Olypmus to their knees. The gods and by extension mortals all have to depend on her and her harvests. When Persephone was taken, she placed all the whole of Greece in a state of famine.

- She use to love and trust Hades, but after he had haphazardly taken Persephone away, all that changed. She keeps a serious eye on Hades since than and has a deep resentment for him and his actions. She barely acknowledges him when he's present but she's still cordial. After a few years however, her attitudes towards him mellowed seeing how Persephone looks forward to seeing Hades every winter.

- She would have married Zeus if his eyes weren't set on Hera. Like Poseidon and Hera, there has been speculation that he and Demeter would have been a better married couple considering both of their personalities would have complimented each other. But that belongs in the "stray line".

-Being the goddess of the harvest, she mostly tends to the matters of farmers and gardeners. By extension, she has an extremely healthy relationship with other vegetation gods, especially Dionysus. Whom oddly enough is treated more like an adopted son rather than a nephew.

- She adores all of her nieces and nephews equally, mostly because she sees that all of them have utilized her gifts to the world in the proper manner. She adores the Bois, because each other of them represents an important value in cultivation.

-She tends to be an anxious woman, and at worst a worrywart. However, she always tries to keep a level head when she desperately needs it.

-She loves animals just as much as she does plants. She in fact helped console in the creation of everything based on how things could tend to themselves without the intervention of the gods. Her ingenuity help give rise to what is considered the concept of the circle of life and the food chain.

-She has an amazing connection between her sisters, prior to being assigned their domains, the three of them would often play with each other and stay close to their mother Rhea. The brothers would always be rummaging around the place and would often tease their sisters.

Hestia:

- The eldest and most lackadaisical sister, she's the more tomboyish of the sisters and loves to rough house.

-She has dark hair with ember roots, the brightness of which increases with emotions. Her physical attributes is her hair always looking alive with flames and being able to increase the temperature in her body.

-Shes a stocky, jolly woman who loves to work in the kitchen whip up something special. She's mostly known for her amazing recipes and her staff of Vestals. She may not keep herself up to the standards of her sisters, but she sees beauty in herself just the way she is.

-The Vestals in her domain are sadly those who "failed to keep the sacred fire lit", that must be sacrificed to the flame. Hestia dispises this punishment, but sadly it seems rarely any of her so-called priests listen to her. Everytime when she receives a vestal, she welcomes them with open arms, a big warm hug and a heartfelt apology for thier suffering. She than mentors them in the ways of the hearth, the real ways straight from the source.

- Like Demeter, she has a massive soft spot for her nieces and nephews. Dionysus again seemingly being the common favorite due to his fun loving personality and his contributions. In a strange sense, as a gift for finally proving himself worthy of a seat in Olypmus, she gave him her own. Hephaestus is another favorite of hers. She often times invites Hephaestus to her domain to have a chat, she often feels for him and tries her best to give him his over due affections in the form of baked goods, interesting items she has been gifted through the hearth and such.

-She isn't a political person to begin with, what one does with their business is their own in her mind. So when she gets called up to converse in such matters, she either stays out of it or she determines herself if it's worth her time.

- She has a mild aversion to water. Poseidon often teases her by flicking a small splash of water, but it just peeves her a little. Mostly because water droplets just sizzle on her and it feels like a little lactic acid itch to her. If someone were to have dumped water on her, it would be feel like as if some dunked boiling water with itching powder on you. She always feels warm so she tends to """cool""" herself down with molten magma or bonfire. When she enters flames, it can depend on where it came from; underworld fire often feels like stepping into one of Costco's Freezers for a little bit and normal earthly flames feeling like a little cool breeze to her.

- She has the most communication between her and her worshippers out of any god. So I. Truth, it's actually easy to envoke her through flames and hearthing.

-She isn't just a goddess of the hearth, she's also the goddess of cooks, bakers, female blacksmiths or the wives of blacksmiths, and glassblowers. Thus she has an extremely healthy relationship with Hephaestus.

-The reason why she chose to be a virgin is actually a simple reason. While Artemis represents chasity for childhood innocence and Athena represents chasity for matters of country and country men, Hestia's chasity is all about personal choice and freedom. Why have children of her own when her vestals are basically her own children, she feels love and responsibility for each of them. The reality is she's not into men, in fact if she wanted to relinquish her chastity, she would want a loving wife. But she isn't interested in marriage or a relationship either. She's as she puts it "far too free for anyone". So in truth, she represents freedom of choice and the firing passion that comes with compassion.

Hades:

-He's what you'd expect from someone who lives most of his life in the underworld yet at the same time not. He's tall, pale, has jet black slicked hair, extremely eloquent and distinguishing. He always trails low hanging mist, seemingly gliding throughout, his eyes glow a warm yellow and speaks in a soft but booming voice. He's not as muscular as his brothers, but he is rather dashing.

-He's more akin to being a classical depiction of a gentleman vampire than a god. Due to his occupation, he's developed a very professional disposition. He greets, guides and consoles the dead. At first he might seems intimidating and even at times callous, but he has your best interests at heart and is a fair ruler. Oddly enough if it wasn't for his aesthetic and his reputation of being ruler of the underworld, he would probably be more comparable to an Arthurian ruler.

-Out of all his siblings, he's the least problematic. He keeps to himself so often that it could be YEARS before anyone would hear from him.

-He's a dedicated and simple man of business, and he takes his job very seriously with a healthy amount of exceptions.

-The "reality" of his chance encounter with Persephone was actually before her kidnapping. He met her while taking a chariot ride and had a passing conversation with her, completely unaware she was Demeter's daughter. After coming back to the underworld, his minions found a bizzare type of mold growing deep in Tartarus that consumed souls. In a panicked state, he than kidnapped Persephone in the hopes she would help the situation, she was glad to be of service and was escorted back to earth. After such a strange ordeal, the two of them kept meeting in secret until Persephone decided to stay with Hades for an extended amount of time. After consuming the food of the underworld by mistake, the story starts returns back to the original.

-He doesn't have much of an opinion on his nieces and nephews. He enjoys Hermes's equally hardworking personality and friendly disposition, he's had Apollo make occasional appearances to give Tartarus some form sunlight, he seems to tolerate Dionysus's slacker behavior but he seems have a very strange connection to Dionysus on a "spiritual" level. However he has extremely low patients for Ares. He isn't too fond of him due to the fact the Ares makes his job a lot for tenuous when wars breakout and his occasional sneaking around the underworld to bother the other chthonic gods.

-He may rule over the underworld, but he's not THEE ruler. He's sort of the equivalent to a king in comparison to Nyx, who is more of an empress. By extension, the ruling regions of the underworld organized rather similarly to a medieval monarchy. Thus creating what the Christians assume is how hell looks and functions like in The Discoverie of Witchcraft, The Book of Spirits, Pseudomonarchia Daemonum, The Lesser Key of Solomon, and Dictionnaire Infernal. Surprisingly, Tartarus actually has nothing to do with anything that the book has to offer.

- The Elysian Fields were created for two very interesting reasons, it was a gift to Persephone for her to feel more comfortable in the underworld and a safe place for those who didn't fit in purgatory or the deeper part of Tartarus. In fact Persephone rules over the fields while Hades rules over the rest.

-When he was first given Cerberus as a pup, Cerberus was dark grey covered in little black spots. As he grew older, Cerberus's fur became darker to a solid black. Ironically, Hades believed Cerberus was going to be spotted throughout his life.

-He unfortunately has no offspring of his own, but he and Persephone isn't above adopting either. Much like Hestia, Hades has a surprising amount of apprentices, apostles and proteges that all are adopted lost souls. Many of them ranging in different ages and such. Charon kept mentioning there had been a small gathering of child wraiths at the banks of the Styx. Apparently many of them being abandoned children who's parents never gave Obolus Obviously, Hades had to make an exception, obviously he wasn't going to let orphaned children fend for themselves in the banks of Styx, so....he now has many wonderful and rambunctious ghost children simply living out there time.

-He's literally the richest god. He didn't expect to accidentally inherit the Earth's worth in wealth. Apparently, there's an on going joke that Gaia gave this wealth to Hades as a form of revenge against Zeus and Poseidon. That....and Gaia actually likes Hades more.

-Zeus and Poseidon were, are and forever regretful that Hades rules the underworld basically hoarding wealth like some posh dragon. Ironically, Hades has 0 idea that he actually owns any of the wealth, that's right, he literally doesn't know anything about the precious metals, gems and such. He assumes his wealth comes from the sheer real estate and number of souls collects. If you ever found out about his incredible amount of monetary control, he probably wouldn't have any idea what to do with it.

-Hades has a professional relationship with Nyx, however, Nyx has decided he's an "adopted neighbor husband". She's extremely affectionate to him as if she was married to him. Hades however, is a dedicated husband and tries him best to make it clear that they're friendly neighbors and not by any means lovers. She doesn't care and still treats him as such. He doesn't know why but all he knows is that she is a powerful, primordial super goddess who lives in the underworld with him. Another ex-lover of Hades was Minthe, who in truth barley added anything for Hades in terms of a meaningful relationship, it was mostly just a lover's affair. After some time, Hades figured that his time was better spent working. After he married Persephone, Minthe attempted to take her revenge by trying seduce Hades back.....let's just say Persephone left her a little green.

#greek mythology #greek gods #greek bros #hellenistic #greek myth memes #hades #Zeus #hera #Demeter #Hestia #poseidon #character concept #character study

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jungkookiebus · 4 years

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A Sacrifice in the Temple of Apollo | kth

Credit for the gif here since the gif search wanted to be difficult.

Genre: mythology, GreekGod!au, smut Pairing: Apollo!Taehyung x mortal!reader Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: mentions of sacrifices to gods (non-graphic), semi-exhibitionism (you’ll see lol), cunnilingus, use of alcohol, intense finger fucking, sex in a religious space Summary: With your village ravaged by famine and plague; crops, livestock, and people are dying. The Temple of Apollo is just up the mountain and sacrifices have been left to no avail. You try to beseech the god yourself and get more than you bargained for.

The day was overcast as you climbed the mountain. Rain drizzled down on you, blanketing your hair and clothes until you were uncomfortable but not quite soaked. Shivering, you trudged forward up the roughly hewn stone steps ignoring the fact that the sandals you had on were too thin for this endeavor. You were desperate and willing to try anything. Below you, your village lay quiet, unnaturally so for this time of year. A sickness had spread through the people, crops, and livestock; effectively killing hundreds in its wake. It had taken your brother months ago. Your mother fell into a depression and your father’s barley crops had withered and died before they could even be harvested. The village was dark, bleak, and lifeless. People milled about in the market as if in a daze, children were starving, men were dying in the roads, and there was no one around to help you. Tears streamed down your face as the steps evened out, got more precise, as you grew closer. The trees in the forest thinned the higher you got. A column towered to your right, holding nothing, but there was a marker showing you that you were getting closer. The Temple of Apollo had been erected here many, many years ago; before you were even born. The steps were strewn with flowers, bug eaten bread, wine, and many other offerings as you climbed the final steps to the temple. Despite the collective effort of the village to offer Apollo the last of their food or drachma, nothing had changed. So, you were here to beg the god to listen. In your bag, you had the finest bottle of wine from your mother’s storeroom and a few coins jingled against the glass. The large, marble temple towered above you. Inside, oil lamps burned dimly, kept up by various villagers afraid to anger the gods further. The statue of Apollo stood, foreboding and intimidating, in the dim light. Expensive rugs, food, goblets, coins, and other various offerings littered the floor at his feet. Inside, it was quiet, eerie, save for the rain now falling harder outside. You looked behind you to see it like a grey wall, coming straight down with no inclination of slowing down. Water dripped from your clothes and your feet blistered in your sandals.

“Apollo,” you whispered, afraid to hear your own voice in the vastness of the temple. You coughed a little as you spoke again. “Apollo. I come here to plead with you. I know many have come before me, begging with you to have mercy on our village. I am sorry I have not come myself, but I am here now to ask for your help. Our crops and people are dying from this strange illness. Never have I heard of both being endangered at once, but please I’ve already lost my brother…”

Your voice caught in your throat; devastation washed over you as you thought about the loss.

The temple was just as quiet as when you walked in.

Then a raven’s call broke the silence. You jumped, turning around to see a raven fly through the sheet of rain, into the temple, and onto the outstretched arm of Apollo. Something brushed against the side of your foot and you looked down to see a thick, long python slithering next to you. Screaming, you fell back on the marble floor, bag landing in your lap as the snake ignored you and lithely slid amongst the offerings to the base of Apollo’s feet where it curled up and settled in as if he belonged there. Both the raven and the snake seemed to be watching the entrance of the temple behind you, unmoving as they looked.

Slowly, you turned your head. Your entire body shook with fear and cold as you breathed heavily, a soft cloud escaping your lips as the temperature dropped. The hair along your neck and arms stood on end as the air became charged and you chocked it up to the storm, but this felt different. The electricity coursing through the air wasn’t any you had felt before. Your chest felt tight and you willed yourself to breathe, but you were afraid that if you did, whatever was causing this would find you.

You looked through the driving rain and saw nothing. Squinting, you looked a little harder. The vague shape of a human was coming up the steps on the mountain. They walked smoothly, but slowly up the steps; in no rush to get out of the pouring rain. The closer they drew, the more you could make the outline of a man, much taller it seemed than the men in the village. Another raven emerged from the rain behind him, calling out as it whipped past his head within centimeters, but he neither ducked out of the way nor cried out as it flew past. It flew into the temple and perched next to the first. You only watched them for a second before you turned back towards the man, closer now as he started to navigate the offerings laid out and ruined on the steps. Your chest burned hotter and hotter as your lungs constricted, too afraid to breathe or move. He stepped through the rain and into the balmy, wet cavern of the temple, completely dry. His tousled, curly hair fell past his eyes and the dark strands kissed the back of his neck softly. His skin was dark and warm. Your breath was taken away as you looked at him. Smooth, unmarred skin disappeared under the soft white tunic that was made of a material you had never seen before. His brown eyes sparkled in the lamp light as he looked down at you. He seemed larger than life inside the temple, completely out of place yet strangely at home within the surroundings. He turned to survey the offerings, smiling as the saw the snake and ravens, before he turned to you and held out his hand. Your back was still to him as you sat frozen, head turned and looking at him. He gestured towards you more emphatically as if you were supposed to know what he wanted. His eyes widened as he looked at you in exasperation and pointed to your bag. Slowly, you swiveled around and with shaking hands opened the bag and pulled the wine from it. Mirth filled his eyes and a wide smile broke out across his face. You felt the warmth from his smile and his skin as he leaned closer to you in order to grab the bottle. Snatching up a goblet close by, he easily popped the cork out with his teeth, spit it to the side, and began pouring. He swirled the wine a little before bringing it to his lips and sipping lightly. He seemed to be in thought as he let the taste roll around on his tongue for a second.

“Tell your mother her wine is excellent,” he said turning his attention to you. “She can use her wine to play kottabos.”

You wanted your mouth to form words but all you could do was stutter as you struggled to think. He turned his head to look around the temple and that was when you saw the laurel wreath nestled in his curls. Some of the leaves looked as if they were freshly grown while some were a solid, thin gold.

“Are you…?” you finally were able to mutter.

He got down on one knee in front of you, forearm rested across it as he leaned into you. He smelled sickly sweet and a little like rain, even though he was completely dry. He stared into your eyes searchingly before his gaze directed to the large statue behind you. One of the ravens gave a single cry as you watched his eyes rake down the statue, past the snake, and back at you.

“Doesn’t really look like me, but I appreciate the effort.”

Could Apollo be right in front of you right now? Or were you so desperate for help that you were hallucinating?

“How do I know it’s you?” you clutched your bag tightly against you.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise and then furrowed as if caught off guard. Surely no mortal meeting a god had questioned their validity before? He let out a low whistle that blew the sweet smell of wine across your face. His eyes flitted to point behind you and once again you were slowly turning your head, unsure of how to prepare yourself for whatever phantom you were about to see. A young girl stepped out from behind the statue and stood next to the python. Beautiful blue robes laid across her shoulders and pooled past her feet. Ornate gold threading depicted Apollo receiving his golden bow and arrows from his father Zeus. Her eyes were as white as milk, but she looked at him as if she could see everything in the room.

“That,” he said pointing to the woman who was as still as a statute, “is the Pythia, Oracle of Delphi.”

Her face was impassive as you looked at her, the soft glow of the lamps lit her features. Her hair was softly braided, thrown over her shoulder, and golden thread was woven within the strands.

“What day is it?”

“Seventh day of the month and the number of Apollo,” he said winking at you. “The only day the Pythia will give prophecy.”

“Can she help us? Can…you help us?” You threw all caution to the wind as you chose to believe the man claiming to be Apollo himself.

“Of course, I can help you,” he said running his finger along your jawline before cupping your chin. He leaned your head back a little as he brought the goblet to your lips. “Now drink, my little bird.”

The familiar taste of your mother’s wine washed into your mouth as you drank, but there seemed to be something different; a taste foreign to your tongue. The tepid liquid ran down your throat and the strange taste seemed to coat it. Your vision blurred a little and your mind buzzed as if you were instantly drunk, but something within you lit like a flame. He smiled when he saw the look in your eyes change and pulled the bag from your lap, ignoring the coins as they clinked together inside. Leaning in close, he pressed his mouth against yours and the heat inside of you seemed fueled by the kiss as it burned hotter. He pulled away, eyes not leaving your swollen lips as his chest rose swiftly.

“You look so much like her…,” he said wistfully as his thumb brushed your bottom lip.

You shivered again from his touch as he placed his open palm against your neck. Heat radiated from him like the sun on a summer day and he seemed to shine just as bright in the dark temple. The flames from the oil lamps created flickering shadows on the walls. The statue shown even bigger and more intimidating in shadow with the two ravens still perched on the arm. His other hand came up to your face as he knelt in front of you, hooded eyes surveying every inch of your face.

“Wine kissed lips,” he whispered, head tilting in thought as he ran his thumbs over your features, “eyes as clear as the sea, skin kissed by Helios, and a face fit for the gods.”

The heat between you grew and amplified, filling every corner of the temple. The fires in the lamps dulled a little and soon the whole room glowed softly and you saw the flames perfectly in his eyes. Swiftly, he grabbed you by the waist and was sitting with you perched on his lap facing him within seconds. The Oracle still stood behind him, eyes distant as she stared out of the door of the temple, unmoving.

“She couldn’t love me,” he continued, “but you can.”

His lips were on your neck as he pulled you closer to him, hands tangling in your hair. He seemed desperate to be closer to you in every way and his breath quickened with each kiss.

Daphne. Eros had shot Apollo and made him fall in love with a nymph. That was who he was talking about; the nymph who turned herself into a laurel tree to escape him. Now that he was here in front of you, you weren’t sure why she would ever want to do that.

“Can you love me?” he asked breathlessly between kisses to your neck, shoulder, and face. He didn’t give you time to answer before his lips were on yours again, pushing your robe from your shoulders and his warm hands were on your ribs, pulling you against him and your breasts rubbed against the soft fabric. You moaned as the sensation made your entire body shiver. His hands were on your lower back now as he slid your hips even further into his and you felt him grow harder amongst the plumes of fabric.

He stopped suddenly, hands still grasping at your skin, chest heaving against yours as he looked up into your eyes. Flames flickered there as his pupils were blown wide with desire. “Will you be the sacrifice that saves your family?”

His question took you off guard, your mind clearing just a little. Were you willing to sacrifice yourself to save others? Hundreds had died and many more would due to famine. You had already lost so much, so what would be one more thing? Nothing.

“Yes.”

Something seemed to transfer from him to you as he devoured you body and soul. It filled you until you thought the feeling would be unbearable, somewhere between pain and pleasure, you were stuck in the balance between the two and you wanted to rupture to alleviate it. Your skin burned hotter than a fever and his lips were hotter still. He kissed the place above your breast as he grabbed your ass and pulled you harder against him. The shadows around you danced dangerously along the walls and vaulted ceiling. This time, you pushed the fabric from his shoulders to reveal a toned chest, the golden honey tone of his face matching perfectly to the rest of a him. A band of gold wrapped around his upper arm and you blearily watched as the muscles flexed beneath it. His mouth was on your nipple and hot pleasure raced across your skin and directly into your core. You felt yourself beginning to drip on the expensive fabric of his robes. He inhaled deeply as he came up from your breast, spit stretched to his lips as he detached and before you knew it his lips were on yours. His tongue was at your lips, darting past your teeth to explore the depths of your mouth. He moaned now, as he deepened the kiss and ground himself up into you as he kept a firm grip on your hips. He dipped his hand into the folds of your clothes and instinctively found your clit. He ran his hand past it, to your folds, to collect the slickness now gathering there and ruining his clothes. He placed two fingers over your clit and began to draw small circles, gradually applying pressure. Your legs quivered and threatened to close against the pleasure, but he kept you spread with his. Fiery red bruises blossomed along your neck and collarbone as he moved his lips anywhere he could reach, sucking and biting as he went. He slid both fingers back and curved them up into you, sliding deliciously in and out until he had your eyes rolling. Your fingers dug into the skin of his shoulders, back arched as you leaned more into him, riding his fingers. He stilled his movements as you began to roll your hips, using him to pleasure yourself. He pushed his thumb against your clit as he sucked your other nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, as he teased the sensitive nerve endings. Tears slipped slowly out of your eyes as your pleasure mounted. He moaned as your body shuddered, close to the edge. Hand completely still, you fucked yourself over him until you were dripping well past his wrist. Your eyes flew open as your orgasm hit. The shadows on the wall seemed to grow larger as you came. The Oracle still stood, as still as ever, gazing out of the doors of the temple. Your fingernails raked into his skin painfully and he sighed as he brought your face to his once more, kissing you deeply. His fingers were out of you within moments as he stood easily from the floor, taking you with him as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His tunic fell away as he stood, leaving you the only one semi clothed. Turning, he walked up the steps to the altar, raked every offering off onto the floor, and laid you gently on your back. You gasped as your hot skin hit the cold surface of the marble, but that did not deter him as he pulled your clothing off completely. He dropped to his knees in front of you as if offering penance to himself, here in his own temple, yet he was worshipping you. Wrapping both arms around your thighs he pulled you into him, burying his face into you as he fucked you with his tongue. Off to the right and higher up, the Oracle still stood motionless next to the sleeping python. The rain still poured outside, semi muted through the stone, but loud on the steps outside. The heat inside of you grew once more as he sloppily ate your cunt; the stone beneath you becoming slicker. Your hands were in his hair, buried deep at the roots, and pulling him harder against you. He moaned against your clit as he flicked his tongue over you. Chills of pleasure rippled through you as your legs closed hard around his head. The small, golden leaves bit into the skin of your thighs but you ignored them. Almost involuntarily, you began moving your hips against him, desperately always wanting more. He moved with you, hands firm on your thighs as his enclosed mouth and tongue worked over your clit. One leg curled in, the ball of your foot digging into the edge as your toes curled, while the other stretched out behind him. Your back arched up off the altar as you came a second time, but he continued eating you out into overstimulation as you pulled at his hair. He came up not a second later, rising from his knees in front of you, and face glistening. The heat still burned in his eyes as he looked down at you, an offering, laid out on his altar.

He leaned down, hands on either side of your waist, as he looked you in the eye.

“Are you a willing sacrifice?”

“Yes,” you muttered between swollen lips.

“Then I give myself to you.”

He filled you up so completely and, in that moment, you had never felt so full. He still seemed to be connected to you not just by body but also something deeper, something that transcended this place. His thrusts were easy, you were so wet he slid inside with ease. He wrapped his arms around your knees, holding your legs up as he fucked you, hitting so deep inside of you it bordered on painful. You cried out as your body slid with each thrust, but he was pulling you back, bouncing you on his cock and starting over again. He let go and leaned down, folding your legs with him as his thrusts slowed but got deeper. Keeping you hanging in a balance of standing right at the precipice and falling over the edge, he kept the torturous pace until you were nearly begging him to go faster. He leaned back once more to let your legs fall to either side of his hips before leaning back down again. He still lazily thrust inside of you as he grabbed some of your hair and brought your face close to his.

“Such a pretty little bird sacrificing herself to me,” he whispered hotly. Every now and again he’d thrust harder and deeper, causing you to moan, which he seemed to be enjoying immensely. He reached between the two of you and placed his fingers on your swollen clit. “Now give me another part of you.”

He deepened his thrusts to the point the he was barely moving, ensuring he was brushing over that bundle of nerves each time. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t see, and you couldn’t think.

That’s when the voice resounded in the room. Your eyes fluttered open as you saw the Oracle still staring into the rain, mouth unmoving as a woman’s voice seemed to come from the air, as loud as thunder, and as soft as a bird’s wing.

“The sickness that has wrought this land shall be smote with the rainfall.”

He didn’t even seem to notice that she was speaking as he continued to fuck you, bringing you close to the edge once more. Sweat dripped from his brow to your breasts as he watched your face. Pure ecstasy was laced into your features and he was fascinated by it.

“In three months hence all trace of the disease will be wiped from your people, livestock, and crops.”

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth as he maintained his pace inside of you and on your clit. You opened your eyes to look at him. He glistened in the firelight and he seemed even more god-like as he glowed. The laurels on his head glinted, giving him an even more heavenly appearance. But what you noticed the most was the look in his eyes. He didn’t look at you like a sacrifice, he looked at you lovingly, truly appreciating the offering given to him, and treating it with respect. He wanted you to feel every bit of elation and pleasure that he did. The room dimmed immensely as you came, almost completely tamped down. The ravens both cried overhead as they rose in a flurry of wings and flew out of the temple into the rain.

“And with this sacrifice to Apollo, your land shall never know the touch of disease or famine until the end of your days.”

The snake at her feet uncoiled and stretched to its full length, slithered between his legs as he thrust into you harder now, and out of the temple. The Oracle turned and walked back around the statue and disappeared from the temple once more. The fire in the lamps returned to a dull glow, illuminating the statue with less intimidation. He slowed his thrusts again until they were deep and even. His face was pressed against your shoulder as he gathered you in his arms, holding you closer and reaching his end. Your hands explored every inch of his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath his skin. He held you aloft with one arm as he came, falling forward onto his other hand, holding the both of you up as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting a few more times before he stopped. He breathed heavily against you, still holding you, as silence and rain cloaked the temple once more. He lowered you, gently, back down onto the altar before pulling out of you. He donned his tunic before pulling yours from the floor and holding it. You sat up on the altar and he lightly pulled yours over your head. Softly, he placed a kiss on your forehead before smiling.

“Brother?” you heard from the doorway.

He turned slightly to look as you too leaned to the side. A woman who looked almost exactly like him, but with much longer hair stood in the doorway. Furs covered her shoulders, leather gauntlets protected her arms, a saffron hunting tunic reached her knees, and a highly detailed carved bow was slung across her back. In every sense of the word she was a hunter, but she seemed a beautiful force to be reckoned with.

“Artemis,” he said simply.

“Are you done?” she asked, eyes scanning you as you sat on the altar. “The ravens preceded your return, but you did not come.”

“I didn’t tell them to leave.”

“You should know your place.” And with that she turned and walked off into the rain, a large hound following behind her.

He turned back to you and smiled sadly, holding your hand in his.

“May your family be blessed by the gods,” he smiled.

“Wait.” You were genuinely confused. Weren’t you his sacrifice? You were expecting him to pull out a golden dagger at any moment and plunge it through your heart. You’d thank him, too, if it meant saving your family.

He let go of your hand in favor of cupping your face in his palms.

“You gave yourself to me,” he whispered against your lips as chills ran up and down your spine, “and that’s all I wanted.”

He kissed you softly, but there was something unsaid behind it; a true reverence in his followers and an appreciation you had never felt before. He let go of you slowly, backing away with a grin on his face and looking at you as if he were trying to remember this. Gods rarely ever crossed a mortal’s path twice. You watched as he grabbed a bottle of wine, took a sip, and sauntered back out into the rain and down the steps.

You sat dumbly on the altar not sure what to do. Do you tell your family? Do you keep it a secret? Maybe the Oracle was wrong. Instead, you trudged back home through the rain, until you reached the village. Going to bed that night, you were unsure if your sacrifice had been enough.

Within the month the barley was growing back better than ever, signs of sickness had been eradicated from the people, and the farmers were sure the livestock would come back from the loss. The sun shined bright each day, glinting off the surface of the sea. Within five months, the village was back to normal again. You still felt the loss of your brother and friends, but you were happy that the suffering was over. From time to time, you’d visit the temple, leaving an offering of your mother’s wine. Each time Apollo would follow behind, grab the bottle, pull the cork, and take a long drink.

With a smile on his face and mischief in his eyes as he thought back on your night together, he’d take another, long drag of the sweet wine. Even with age he still thought you were beautiful.

“Good enough to play kottabos.”

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #apollo!taehyung #greekgod!au #taehyung x reader #nonidol!au #bts smut #bts au #greek mythology #apollo #taehyung #reader insert #taehyung smut

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oddlybitter · 3 years

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i’d say shoot your shot, but your aim is terrible

Thanatos/Zagreus. 660 words.

CW: ... nothing? wow, that’s a first???

Artemis has had enough. Working with Zagreus has shown her many things, and one of those things is that everyone in the Underworld has the worst communication skills she has ever seen. And that's saying something because she's seen hunting dogs turn onto their master after he overwent a little makeover. (It was kind of her, really. Stags have so much more fun.)

Don't get her wrong, she really likes Zagreus, he's chill, a solid 9/10, and she won't be polymorphing him anytime soon, but Zeus' great white beard, that boy was testing her. More than she values sticking to her beliefs, she appreciates straightforwardness. With Zagreus, it's a little like asking a boar to give you a delicate dance. Usually, he's fine, but with a certain someone, Zagreus beats around the bush more than he beats around the skull of that hydra.

Usually, she wouldn't care that Zagreus was running around, pining after that ridiculous god of death and his odd hair, but she's invested now. It's like watching a group of quails fight for their habitat in the forest. For the first five minutes, you couldn't care less about some round birds, but after that, you've named them, you know that Agnes is struggling as a single mother and that Alexander wants to leave the nest, but without him, Agnes only has three children after the loss of Crysanthe. Yes, this is still about Zagreus' obvious crush on Thana-whatever.

She sees them hazily through the fog of Asphodel, watching them fight side by side. Zagreus pushes an enemy out of a glowing circle of slow death, and Thanatos frowns, making a face similar to that of a bear who sat on a bees' nest. If only there was something I could do, she thinks, sitting on the steps of Olympus as she peers over the side.

"Hail, surly sister." A voice calls out.

Artemis doesn't even have the energy to give a witty response, so she just grunts in acknowledgment. Her half-brother Ares sits next to her on the steps, peering over her shoulder at the scene unfolding below.

"Ah, cousin Zagreus!" Ares exclaims, then his eyebrows wiggle like pale caterpillars. "And my colleague Thanatos. I was unaware Zagreus had taken him as his lover."

Artemis sighs. "That's the issue. He hasn't."

There is a pregnant pause as Thanatos and Zagreus argue below, their voices muffled and their faces blurry. Blinking in shock, Ares frowns.

"He hasn't? Why not? Thanatos is obviously willing, and Zagreus has the courage of a Trojan in battle." He states, his brow knitted in confusion.

The hunting goddess groans, holding her head in her hands. "That is the question I am asking! Thanatos seems flighty, if you ask me."

"What? No, Zagreus' courting skills are obviously lacking." Ares retorts, frowning at his half-sister.

Scoffing, Artemis returns to the pair of gods below, then grips Ares' arm in shock. "By Zeus, it's happening."

"Thank Aphrodite for that." He says, but he looks over her shoulder with similar energy to an excited puppy.

From what Artemis can make out, she can see Zagreus holding Thanatos' hand in his, tracing the lines of his palm with a sad air about him. The god of death hovers closer towards him, taking the dark-haired deity's face in his hands and leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. She lets out a loud exhale, a heavy burden leaving her shoulders. Callisto is going to love this, she thinks, stretching her neck from side to side.

"Well, that took several years of my immortal life," Ares announces, getting to his feet and placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I'm going to go fight Athena now, so do tell me if anything else occurs. I would so like to see our cousin happy."

And he turns on his heel, walking away. Staring at his retreating back, Artemis huffs out a sigh. "And I, too, brother."

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achillesmonochrome · 4 years

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Hera’s Little Helper

Another Au where Bianca comes back to life, because I love her and I want her back, no matter how odd are my excuses for it.

- As soon as Thanatos was imprisoned, Hera knew something bad is going to happen, that threat she has been prepared for years was finally coming. She tried to talk about it with Zeus, but he was having none of it, she will need to do this, alone. Or, perhaps not without some little help.

- She knew one of the pieces of the prophecy was a roman girl, a child of Pluto. She was dead now, but with Thanatos imprisoned that could change. Gods couldn’t predict the future with certainty, not even Apollo who was the god of prophecy; however, she has been able to deduce who could be important in this quest even before Kronos appeared, she has her ways to know some information.

- Hera needed to be careful for how she managed this; his husband refused to listen even when that giant almost came back in the past century. Hera may be his wife, but was not exempt of his punishments; she needed to be sure it wouldn’t be so easy to track it back to her.

- The brat of Hades would try to bring his sister back, she really didn’t need divination powers to deduce that one; but if that sister wasn’t there, then perhaps he could bring the one it was needed for the quest. And as much as she doesn’t like it, she knows children of her little brother are powerful, the shadowtravel was certainly convenient. She decided to kill two birds with the same stone.

- Hera couldn’t make public her visit, she never went down there and Hades would call her out if he knew. She went directly to Elysium, persuaded Makaria (The goddess in charge of Elysium) to let her in and not make a fuss about it.

- Bianca was more than shocked to have an unknown woman in her residence, she was using a white and gold cloack, like trying to hide her presence; her piercing brown eyes gave her a look that remind her of the judges in the Underworld, determinating if her soul was worth it. Hera: Do you never learned to bow to a Goddess, child? Specially the Queen of Olympus? Bianca: (closes her mouth, bowing) I’m sorry, Queen Hera Hera: (Nods) That’s more likely, now, we need to discuss certain things.

- Hera explains the situation, Death is trapped, in theory you could get out of the underworld, his brother would try to get her. Bianca was excited to hear that, she didn’t want Nico to trade her soul for Quintus because she didn’t like the idea of somebody dying for her, but if nobody gets hurt then maybe- Then Hera says that it cannot happen.

- Bianca doesn’t act on it, but she is mad hearing that. Hera explains that somebody more important needs to be out, and for that reason Bianca cannot be there. Hera: However, I have a proposition for you. Bianca: Huh? Hera: There is certain stuff that I cannot do without bringing too much attention to myself, I will need a hand on it and sadly, my only champion would be busy being part of a prophecy. You could be useful in that regard. Bianca: (She didn’t like how Hera spoke about her, like an object, but she needed to be careful and not insult her) No offense Queen Hera, but I’m unsure how much help I can do while being here. Hera: You will not. >> Here is the thing, is uncertain how my husband would react about death heroes coming back from the underworld; he already try to smitten you once, if he has the excuse that you should be dead, he may do that again. >> Your father cannot do anything about it; since he is the God of the Underworld he has always made sure he didn’t abuse of that power, no bringing people back for personal reasons; is why even if he was infatuated with your mother, he couldn’t bring her back. Same with you. >> However...other gods may bring dead people alive for their own reasons, it happened before. If I get you to help me, then my husband couldn’t hurt you, in theory. Bianca: In theory? Hera: Is the best chance you have; this soul your brother needs to bring back is important, if you go with him, there is a high chance that the Olympians may lose, and both of you would die once more, and there would not be Elysium this time. Take my offer, and you would have a chance to live your life this time, as long as you do as I say for this prophecy. Do we have a deal?

- Bianca really didn’t feel that she has a lot to day in this regard; is actually surprised she is asking her instead of taking her away. Perhaps the fact that Bianca is Elysium can stop her. However, she wants this; she wants another chance in life, to be with her brother, to live. So, she accepts,

- Macaria was instructed to tell Nico that her sister was reborn; Bianca wanted to say some reassuring words to Nico one last time, but Hera was adamant that she couldn’t interfere or perhaps he would not come and take the soul they needed to be back alive.

- Hera make sure only Macaria knew Bianca would be back alive; Hades would not like what she has planned for his daughter and if his brother learned about this the plan would go to waste (In theory, they could had simply tell Nico that Bianca was back, but he needed to get another soul back from the underworld. But hey, WHEN the gods had communicated clearly with demigods?)

- When Bianca was back, she actually appeared to be 15, the age she would had been if she didn’t die. Hera mentioned that the older a demigod is, the more powerful they become; but she also didn’t want to let Bianca become too powerful that she could bring attention to herself. Making her the age she was supposed to be was the best she could do.

- Hera instructed Bianca about her powers, enough that she would not end accidentally in China. Bianca would be using a lot of her shadowtravel; aside from some stuff to make sure Bianca made her mission.

- After all, who you think was the one who kidnapped Percy and Jason, and left them when they needed to be?

(Ok I know is a weird flex, but I’m the only one who thought it was odd Hera was kidnapped for a month, and yet she could still kidnap Percy and put Jason in place?)

- As ridiculous as it sounds, imagine Bianca stopping a bus in the middle of nowhere; opening the door, struggling with Jason in her back (she is not strong to carry him with ease), look at Piper and Leo, and be like “Piper Mclean and Leo Valdez, correct?” She lets Jason falls unceremoniously beside Piper “Congrats, you guys have a new best friend” Then proceed to throw some mist bombs so they believe what Hera needed them to believe, erase the fact that she was there, and shadowtravel and make like nothing happened.

Is stupid but I love it.

- Hera needed to make sure she wasn’t discovered, it wasn’t sure how Zeus would react, Hera was trying to be sure everything was according to the plan she had over the years, Bianca was a last minute addition and she would not mess with it.

- The deal was simple enough; Bianca obeys Hera during all this mess with Gaea, and once it was over (if they win or not), Bianca was free of doing anything with the rest of her now, mortal life.

- I’m unsure what she did between those months, perhaps making sure some stuff was in place.

- And then, when Bianca gets the news that they won and she can be back with her brother, she was still in Europe just in case Hera needed her to do something for the Seven. It took her some days to get to America.

That was last one was to have a reason why Bianca would appear after the events of the Camp in BoO.

Yeah I know, I went overboard with this one, but like I said: I want Bianca back and I will do it by any means necessary.

#heroes of olympus #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #bianca di angelo #nico di angelo #hazel levesque #hera #hades #macaria

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

the unseen one - 06

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: fluff

A/N: sorry for being a bit absent with my requests and fanfics, i’m just crazy deep into my assessments right now and haven’t had as much time as i’d like. hope you like this one. enjoy xx

Next Chapter >>

Y/N’s job wasn’t as glamorous as her peers expected it to be. She had a degree in psychology but after a while working on her field she realised she hated it and took a junior assistant job at a nearby kindergarten. Y/N wasn’t really the teacher or the one who had proper authority, she just did the jobs no one else wanted to do and that meant she spent most of her shift working in the nursery, every once in a while visiting the toddlers. She enjoyed working the nursery, despite what other teachers and assistants said it wasn’t always a hell hole, it was just an atmosphere that every once in a while world break out in chaos.

As per usual during nap hour, she was in the rocking chair, book in hands as she waited for the sleeping hour to be over. However, a particular baby wasn’t in for sleeping. She raised her head from her book, closing it and putting it beside the chair as she got up to figure out with baby was crying softly. Y/N eventually found the crying child in one of the back cribs, red cheeks as if she had been crying for a while now. Her heart tightened as she picked up the baby, holding her head against her shoulder. Elizabeth. Elizabeth was a baby that did not do well with being separated from its parents. Normally, Y/N did not work whenever she was around but today her parents are brought her in unexpectedly which meant she got to hang out with her.

- It’s okay, Beth. - she mumbled to the baby, walking side to side while gently rocking her. She walked up to the hangers by the door, grabbing a little hat and placing it on the baby’s head. Normally, whenever a baby was fuzzy or couldn’t sleep, the assistant were always told to bring the noise causing baby out the nursery as not to wake up the rest of the children. Y/N took her to the little back garden. It wasn’t much, it was mostly a piece of land belonging to the kindergarten where the children would go to play in and during special occasions would plant some flowers and some short plants.

She held the baby against her side as she walked through the garden. It was a sunny, mildly hot day. The only sounds possible to hear were the birds chirping and the wind lightly hitting the metal dream catcher the older kids had done and hanged on the trees.

- Look ... - Y/N smiled, pointing at the little bird nest that was placed in a low branch of an apple tree. The young girl’s head turned a bit to stare at the little birds, happily chirping along, a heartwarming baby’s laugh coming from her mouth. - Isn’t it pretty?

Y/N stood there for a while, walking around from side to side until the baby fell asleep, eventually returning to the nursery and returning her to her crib. Once everyone as asleep, she grabbed her phone from her pocket, looking at her calls. Still no new calls. Y/N had spent the past hours constantly stressing about James. Who doesn’t have a phone in the 21st century? Everyone had a phone so maybe he felt bad when he rejected her and asked for her number only to toss it. Maybe she’d been too straight forward but so far no calls so she just returned to her book.

Meanwhile, James was trying to fix everything that was going on with the Groves. He didn’t want anyone else to figure something was wrong with the Elysium, he was already the unmarried god of the underworld, if it came out that something was wrong with his domains, he couldn’t even figure what Zeus would make out of it.

Between meeting with the fates, the furies and the trials, he could no longer hear, think or speak of death and souls. All he wanted was to lock himself in his office and ignore the fact he had to rule over one of the most important parts of the planet.

- Hades! - another harsh knock on his door made him lift his head from the papers and books he was surrounded by. He groaned, telling whomever was knocking to come it. It was Thanatos and Hypnos. - The souls have been listed and booked.

- Good, you can go now. - James spoke in a matter of fact tone, anger in his voice as the minor gods left. He got up angrily from his seat, staring at the whole mess that had settled in his office. Between soul records he needed to go through, Groves’ books and correspondence from other gods. He was about to return to his work once he noticed the sunflower staying there. Almost if by magic, a calm feeling settled on him as he went through his drawers, founding the napkin with her phone number on it.

He had no cellphone, god he didn’t even knew what a cellphone was back in his mortal days only realising what it was after watching the mortals live their long life. James decided that he needed to speak with her and to do such he had to get a phone. Luckily, he did know of a shop that sold burner phones, good enough to try and get in contact with her.

He abandoned the underworld, locking his office as not to ask for any suspicions and walked to the shop, getting a burner phone. Once again, his life had been during the 40′s, it was still an incredible feature to him that he didn’t need to speak with anyone before reaching the owner of the phone number.

It didn’t take long for him to hear her soft voice coming through the phone in a soft “hello”.

- Y/N, it’s me, James. - he said, leaning against a wall, watching everyone walk by, unknowingly of their own mortality.

- James, hi. - he could hear that very cheery tone of voice. - How are you?

- I’m alright ... Do you think you’d be free to go for a walk, maybe?

- Yeah, I just got home but if you give me a few seconds.

- I can go pick you up. - he spoke, returning to his spot as he started to walk towards where she lived.

- No, you don’t need to, you’re probably tired.

- Never tired enough for you.

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heart-eye-harrington · 4 years

Text

think of me through the stars

Summary: Sometimes all you can do is kiss people through the stars

Word Count: 2.5k (oops I got carried away)

Warnings: None? My not perfect attempt at retelling Greek mythology

Author’s Note: Hi! I hope you’re doing well! This is my first attempt at a longer fic! Please let me know what you think (positive or negative!) and feel free to send requests! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! ♡

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“Again?” All Steve could do was chuckle as he looks at you from the passenger seat. You’re slumped over the steering wheel, sulking, arms crossed above your head in an effort to conceal it. He brings a hand to rest on your shoulder, rubbing reassuring circles. From beneath your hunched position, he hears a hushed,

“I’m sorry”

“Hey, it’s fine. Would it even be a late-night drive without your car getting stuck?” the warmth and sincerity in his voice brought a smile to your hidden face. Your truck did have a tendency of getting stuck on back roads at night, and at this point, you’ve both kinda accepted it.

“C’mon, I’ll grab the blankets,” he says, pulling your pouty figure from your seat. You shrug out of the car, playing limp to cling to your sad charade. He opens the door and snags the blankets stowed there for occasions just like these. You each grab an end and spread the fabric to cushion the bed of your Chevy. Once up to both your standards, you climb in. Steve’s first, laying on his back, cradling his head in his hands. You follow but, hesitate.

It takes everything in you not to nestle into his arms and rest your head on his chest. To feel the warmth he radiated to the point where he’s always complaining about being too hot. To have his arms wrap around you and pull you closer. As much as you want to you can’t. He’s your best friend, nothing more. A line has been drawn and you can’t overstep it. So instead, you settle on lying on your back, head resting just below his bicep, hands resting on your chest.

You miss the sadness that flashes through his features, too distracted by the stars. He sighs to himself as he takes in the night sky and you. You seem so relaxed, so comfortable around him, a sense of pride washing through him. He cherished moments like this with you, away from it all. Away from King Steve and the persona he felt he needed to keep up, from his parents and their constant nagging, if their harsh words could even be considered that. But you made all that go away and let him forget. He could be a dumb teenager with you; cracking jokes, eating junk, late-night drives, and sometimes doing homework when you forced him. But he’d do anything for you. You, his best friend.

He’s pulled from his trance when you lift an arm to trace out a constellation.

“You see that one?” your question was soft, barely above a whisper

“Show me again?” you giggle at his honesty and shy tone before motioning for him to give you his arm. Once he obliges, you place your hand and on top of his and guide his finger to trace the constellation.

“It’s supposed to look like a harp, see it?”

“Yeah, I do”’ a smile lighting up his face at his discovery.

“Well, it’s technically a lyre. The constellation is called Lyra. There’s a myth about Orpheus, the greatest poet and musician ever. He perfected the lyre, I think it’s a fancy harp. His songs could calm the angriest of hearts and bring joy to the most broken. Except, he couldn’t fix his own after his wife was taken from him too soon. His heartbreak inspired some of his most beautiful songs ever written. They were so beautiful the birds and wind decided to sing along and still sing them to this day. When he died, his lyre was thrown into a river. Zeus knew he couldn’t let the lyre and his music go, so he sent an eagle to save it, and placed it into the sky.”

“Wow” was all Steve could muster, taken aback both by your story and knowledge of it.

“I had a book about constellations and myths when I was little. I’ve been fascinated ever since.” A blush rises to your checks at the confession. The night sky was kind of your secret obsession, and now here you were spilling your guts to Steve. Embarrassment flashes through you until you meet Steve’s eyes and find they’re filled with adoration, any trace of shyness melting away. He wraps the arm you used to show him the constellation around you, pulling you close before asking in a hushed voice,

“Tell me another?”

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“I’ve fallen in love, yeah. God knows! God knows I’ve fallen in love!” Steve playfully sings along with Freddie Mercury over your radio. Your room always felt so alive with him here, his infectious joy and energy painting every inch. All you can do in bop your head along to the beat as you continue your handiwork.

“Can I see it now?” Steve breaks from his serenade to shoot you a pleading look. You’re about to give in when you realize your progress and laugh at his impatience.

“Steve, I’m almost done. I promise!” He’s not convinced, features creating an exaggerated frown.

“But do you pinky promise?”

“Oh my gosh! Just let me do this one last thing then you can see it!” you triumphantly tie the final knot and sigh, happy with the finished product.

“Okay, close your eyes and hold out your hand”

Steve happily obliges, smile plastered across his face. You lay the finished product in his hand and instruct him to open his eyes. When he does, he’s amazed. Woven intricately into a friendship bracelet are yellow stars that pop over a navy blue background. Beside them are some white stars, in the shape of -

“Is that?”

“Yeah, a shitty rendition of Lyra”

“Holy shit, it’s amazing”

“Well, I try.” You can’t help but beam at his reaction. It had taken you so many attempts to get the constellation to look perfect on the tiny bracelet, but seeing his awe and appreciation was well worth it. It’s the least you could do for him.

“Thank you” was all he could muster, taken aback at how personal and kind your gift was. No one had ever done something like this for him.

“Can you help me put it on?”

Once you did, he never took it off. He wore it for basketball games, graduation, his Scoops Ahoy interview and for every shift. Robin often asked him about it, not missing the smile that came to his face every time she did.

One of her favorite past times during slow shifts was nagging Steve about you.

“C’mon on! Who made that for you?” her exasperation would have made Steve chuckle if it weren’t for the subject matter.

“Robin, please. They’re just a friend.” he sighs dismissively, desperate for her not to pry this open.

“Suuuuuuuure” The word dragged from her lips in frustration as she shrugged and turned her attention to the customer who just entered. As soon as her eyes meet theirs, she’s frozen. Staring back at her are the softest, kindest eyes she’s ever seen. They have a twinkle as if stars were trapped deep inside, and Robin instantly puts the pieces together. You’re the one Steve has been smiling and giggling about, and now she understands why.

“A-Ahoy! How may I help you today?” it takes Robin a second to remember her speech with her discovery.

“Hi! I’m sorry, but I was wondering if Steve was here?”

“Oh, so he does have friends that aren’t children. He’s in the back, I’ll go -” before she can finish, Steve pushes through the break room door. When his eyes meet yours, a familiar heat rises to his cheeks.

“Oh, oh hey! What- what’s up?” his attempt to regain his composure fails as his arm falls from its suave lean against the doorframe. His actions cause both you and Robin to giggle.

“I realized I haven’t visited you at work yet and thought I’d stop by. You guys busy?”

“No” they both reply, Steve’s words rushing out a few seconds before his co-worker’s.

“Sweet” you nod, plopping yourself at the table next to the register. Steve takes a seat across from you as Robin watches from behind the counter, not sure where she should go but happy with watching the interaction from afar.

“So, how are things going here? I feel like this place is stealing you from me” Your joke seeming light-hearted enough, but deep down it was true. You missed Steve, a small ache forming in your chest at the realization. You dare not let that feeling crawl to the surface, playing up your smile and leaning your head in your hand. Steve’s body is just as relaxed, arm stretched over the top to the seat beside him, legs crossed.

“Hey, you know I’ll always have time for you,” he spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because to him, it was. He absent-mindedly played with his sailor hat while you stared at him wide-eyed. Across the parlor, Robin couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her lips. She’d observed the two of you for mere minutes and could already see what you two oblivious idiots couldn’t, and how could anyone not laugh? She hadn’t even realized she let it slip until she saw you and Steve awkwardly shift, both pulled from your respective traces. You all brush it off and you clear throat.

“So, um, I also wanted to stop by cause I’m leaving tonight.” Dread contorts Steve’s features, sending panic to yours.

“Not for long, just visiting family out of state for the Fourth of July. I’ll be back before you know it.” you finish reassuringly.

“But it’s like you just said, this place is sucking up all my time. I feel like I haven’t seen you since I got this job. I was hoping we could go to the fair the mayor puts on every year.” He pouts at his now scattered daydream. A small spark of joy returns when he realizes something.

“Can I maybe call you instead? I can skip the stupid fair, stay in, and we can catch up!” his relaxed posture gone in his excitement, elbows now resting on the table in an effort to lean closer to you.

“I don’t think so, we’re going all the way to New Jersey. The long-distance call cost would be enough to give my parents a heart attack.” Your heart breaks with your words. You’d give anything to go along with Steve’s plan, whether it be stuffing your face with cotton candy and getting sick on the Gravitron or simply sitting in your uncle’s house on the phone with Steve for hours. Your eyes were stuck on your hands, not having the heart to look at the sad look you knew was on Steve’s face. You fiddle with your fingers, daring to have your gaze move up just enough to see his wrist. You smirk to see the stars still there. Before you can think much about it, your fingers gently begin to play with the bracelet.

“Y’a know, you don’t need to call me to get to me.” your voice and touch soothing, Steve lost in the sensation of your skin on his. He brings himself back to reality just enough to ask

“What do you mean?”

“You can talk to me through the stars, through Lyra. I’ll always be there for you” your fingers continue you trace the pattern, a content smile reaching your eyes as they meet Steve’s. He can’t help the tug on his lips.

“I’ll only be gone a week, I don’t think you can get into too much trouble without me”

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ʰᵉˡᵖᵎ ʰᵉˡᵖᵎ ʰᵉˡᵖᵎ

Robin’s muffled cries were the first indication to Steve that he hadn’t gone to the light. His body screamed with pain but was simultaneously numb, as is his body was trying to shield him from the intensity of the damage done. He tried pushing himself back to life, trying to regain his senses. The lingering metallic taste of blood returned, somehow filling his nose as well. He felt the tight restraints on his wrists and back, along with the heat radiating from Robin. His sight was the hardest to earn, his one eye feeling as if it would pop out of his skull. He starts small, trying to focus on his lap. He saw his blue sailor shorts, bound wrists, and ...

A million emotions whizzed through his mind, almost giving him a headache.

Still tied to his wrist was the friendship bracelet. The navy blue background, the silver and yellow stars still there. The constellation was still these. You had to squint a bit to see the shape, which came in handy with Steve’s current state. The knots were a bit uneven, tiny holes exposed his irritated skin underneath. It was somehow unscathed, not a drop of blood or any other sign of damage to be found.

You made it for him.

Oh shit

The ringing in his ears and Robin’s cries for help were getting more intense but were still so far away. He wanted to reach out through the mental fog to get to her, but his body kept him quiet. He still felt so far away from his surroundings, in a daze. Steve let himself surrender to the alluring call of rest.

“What else happens to Orpheus?” Steve let his curiosity get the best of him, knowing you have the answer. The cool night air ripples through your clothes, begging you to draw closer to the boy lying beside you.

“Well, when his love died, he went on a journey to the underworld to find her and bring her back. He used his gift to captivate people with his music to help him along the way. Hades agreed to let Euridice come with him, as long as he didn’t turn around to see if she was following on his way out of the Underworld. Just as Orpheus was about to leave, curiosity got the best of him and turned around, just to see the love of his life fall back into the underworld. It’s so sad because he was so close. He was so close to having her back.”

Silence fell between the two of you as you let the story sink in, but thinking the same thing. I’m so close, I can’t let them getaway.

Steve snaps his eyes open, a new fire fueling him. This isn’t how this is going to end. This isn’t how he was going to end. He couldn’t let himself be so close and let you get away. He had to get out this hellhole.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington hc

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jadekitty777 · 4 years

Text

Puppy Love

Bit of a weird entry and a challenge to write - but it only seemed right with a prompt like this, to write from the perspective of one of Tai and Qrow's "children".

Day 4: As Parents @taiqrowweek

Rating: T

Words: 5,300

Summary: Every dog in the shelter dreams of the day they'll be set free of their metal prisons to join a pack all their own. Despite being so inadequate he wasn't even honored a name, he dreams just as hard; though, with each adoption, that place he wishes to be seems to be getting further and further away.

And then, one word changes everything.

"Puppy?"

Ao3 Link: Puppy Love

The best day of his life happened exactly eight weeks and four days after he was born.

It had started out as usual. He woke up to the sound of the rest of the kennel-bound dogs starting up a ruckus as the keepers of their metal prisons walked down the line, cleaning cages and checking water and food bowls. After that, the big dogs were let out in small packs so they could play in the field. He never got to go; he was too small. Instead, he stuck his tiny head between the bars and said hello as they passed.

Most of them paid him little mind. Hades and Zeus, the Doberman twins, jeered his way. Roxie stuck up her nose, sassy as ever. She told him once her poodle pedigree made it impossible for her to converse with peasants. Whatever that meant. He made sure to duck his head back in if Captain was with them – the coonhound liked to snap at him.

Still, there were a select few that always took the time to say hello. Like old Benji, always limping over to give him a sniff. Or the energetic husky, Skystorm, hunkering down on his forepaws as if they might actually get a chance to play. Or the motherly Lady Lucy, who would fuss over him like he was one of her long-gone pups. She never tired of telling him how much he reminded her of her ‘clever little Dodger’.

“Why he could even get cats to work for him!” She told him today as she passed. “Cats, can you imagine?”

Polite as always, he said, “No ma’am. It sounds incredible though.”

“You’re gonna fill his head full of air with stories like that Lucy.” Benji laughed.

“Nonsense! Stories build character. Who will he ever know who to aspire to be like otherwise?”

The dog in the lead of their pack growled out, “You wasting your breath on that orphan.”

“Hunter, don’t be so rude. He’s just a pup!” Lady Lucy cried.

“Oh sorry, am I not coddling him enough?” Hunter swung his head around. He only had one eye, the other lost in a fight, but the single red orb seemed to freeze him in place. “You’ll have to get used to it, brat. No human’s gonna take a stubby runt like you.”

“You’re just nasty because no one’ll ever adopt you.” Skystorm barely dodged fast enough to avoid the rather vicious bite the alpha tried to deliver.

He heard the argument continue well down the hall until he could no longer make out the words. Not that he wanted to anymore. He pulled his head back in, walking to the back of his cage and laying on his bed of rags, intending on settling in for his after-breakfast nap. But he couldn’t get Hunter’s words out of his head.

As young as he was, even he had heard the talk about how great a home was. Some of the dogs here even came from one themselves – and those who hadn’t had tales from something they’d heard. A motley mesh of things like ‘leftovers’ given underneath the dinner table that left everyone slobbering just thinking about it. Of playtime chasing all sorts of fun toys. Of walks to the beach where he could dig to his heart’s content. Of endless belly scratches and ear rubs.

He’d dreamed of it all at least a dozen times. Imagined how soft his own bed would be or how large a yard he’d have to run in. But most of all, dreamed of the family that would take him in and never let go. He wanted it more than anything!

But, was Hunter right? He had never been treated like the other dogs here. They all had names and skills. He wasn’t a working dog. He couldn’t retrieve and he couldn’t herd. He wasn’t a fancy one either, like Roxy, who was convinced she’d have a life again as a show dog. He didn’t have a Doberman’s ferocity or a husky’s vigor or a pit bull’s strength. If he couldn’t provide for his pack in any way… then why would they want him at all?

He buried his nose into his paws, but it was a long time before he fell asleep.

When humans came, it was time to perform.

A lot of dogs barked and yowled and produced up a racket for attention, but his voice wasn’t powerful enough. So, instead, he stuck his head between the bars and let his tongue loll out, entire body shaking as he wagged as hard and excited as he could whenever the people passed on by. It often earned him a pet.

Today it was a big family of seven, and the nice, stout woman who had long nails gave him such a good scratch behind his ears, it left his hind leg shaking.

“Oh aren’t you precious?” She cooed. “You would look just great in my purse.”

“Gale, we’re not here for a lap dog.” One of the men of her pack chastised.

“It doesn’t hurt to look!”

His ears fell flat as she breezed on by.

They were there for some time, looking from cage to cage. They even had the caretakers take a few out, to do a “walk test”. Roxy was prim as ever, trotting like she was putting on a show. Skystorm raced them. Zeus kept trying to bump Hades aside. No one came back to his cage.

And, worse yet, they chose the best of them all.

He couldn’t help but whine as Lady Lucy was led out with her papers all signed. The setter’s long ears raised up, looking to him. “Now none of that. You keep that tail up little one! I’m certain you’ll find your way soon.”

He tried to find strength in that encouragement, but all he discovered was the breaking of his heart as the door down the way slammed closed. He turned away, padding back to his rags and flopping over.

This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Puppy!”

…What?

He lifted his head, looking back.

Standing there, in a bright, pleated dress, was one of the smallest humans he’d ever seen. Even when he stood up and walked towards her, she didn’t tower over him like most humans did. She was his size.

Her eyes went wide, a huge grin spreading on her face. “Hi puppy!” She giggled and, when he came close enough, she didn’t even wait for his trick, instead sticking her hand through the bars. She gave him a few uncoordinated, slightly rough, pats to his head. “Good boy!”

“Ruby!” A shout echoed down the hall as a man sprinted into view. He was overly tall, with legs that were spindly like a bird’s. He snatched the girl up into his arms, lifting her well out of reach. “What did I say about running off like that, pipsqueak?”

The newcomer was almost immediately joined by two more.

“You found her? Oh thank gods!” The other male of the pack said. He was almost as tall as the first, but wider built all around. It was like looking at a Labrador standing next to a greyhound. Alongside him, being held by her hand, was another young girl with wild hair. It reminded him of Benji – the briard’s fur was always in his eyes too.

“Daddy, lookie!” It was hard to tell who Ruby was speaking to, as both the men looked down at him at the same time.

It was the bigger one’s whose eyes lit up. “Oh, what a precious little guy!” He knelt down, clicking his tongue, holding his fingers out. “Come here Yang, just like this.”

The other little girl, bold as can be, pressed her fist against the bars.

Right. Tail up. Time to act.

He bounded forward, wiggled low and stuck his head right through, lifting it upwards until he could feel their fingers against his snout.

Yang giggled immediately, rubbing her knuckles along his skull. “He’s funny!”

“He sure is. Be gentle now.”

“No. No way.” The bird man groaned. “We agreed on a dog. And we don’t even know how big this one is gonna get.”

The other man got that spot behind his ear. Oh yeah, that was the stuff. “He’s a corgi. They’re about the same size as a beagle, only chubbier.”

“Yeah well, he’s still a puppy. You really want to deal with pee puddles all over the house?” He asked as he set Ruby down.

The littlest one stomped her foot. “But I like this one!”

“But Rubes, they’re a lot of work and I’m sure there’s a lot of – now don’t give me those doe eyes kiddo. Tai, help me out here!”

Tai, in all his wisdom, turned to his pup and said, “Want to pet him Ruby?”

“Yeah!” She toddled on over, where he showed her how to do the really good scratches.

This was the life.

Leaving the girls to it, Tai rose to his full height, winding an arm around the bird man’s shoulders and tucking him against his side. “It’ll be fine Qrow.”

“You’re such a traitor.” Qrow grumbled.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He conceded, pressing his lips against his temple.

There was a long, slow sigh. “I guess then we’re getting-” He squinted at the paperwork that hung from his cage. “Puppy Two? What kind of name is that?”

“Maybe he goes number 2 a lot!” The older of the girls said.

Ruby’s nose wrinkled up. “Eeeew Yang!”

“You know,” Tai started thoughtfully, “If there’s a puppy one we could get him a friend and- mghpfa!”

Qrow cut him off by shoving his hand in his face. “Just go sign the paperwork already!”

Even when the door came open, and he was lifted up out of the cage, he wasn’t quite sure it was real until he was being taken out of the facility altogether and the big, wide world was in his eyes. Then it was speeding past his eyes, as the large machine he had been placed in moved at speeds he couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh wow! What was that? Oh, and that! Did you see that?” He asks the girls as he hopped between their laps, trying to look out the window.

“Yang, try to keep hold of him!” Tai called from the front seat of the contraption. “He’ll get hurt if he falls.”

“’Kaaay.”

Suddenly, a grip stronger than a choke chain was around his middle and he found himself firmly pinned down. He wiggled about, but there was no give.

Ruby pat his backside. “He’s got a funny butt.”

Well now, that was just rude.

There was a guffaw from Qrow. “Speaking of Mr. Funny Butt, s’pose we better name him.”

His ears perked. A name? Just like the other dogs had? He wouldn’t have to be known as mutt or pup or orphan anymore? He wagged his clipped tail excitedly.

“Oh, oh! I was thinking Cerberus.” Tai offered. “Doesn’t that sound intimidating?”

“Dad, that sounds dumb.” Yang was wiggling her fingers along his side, prompting him to roll over and – oh, tummy rubs really were everything the other dogs said they were.

“Ouch. Well little missy, you got a suggestion?”

“Uppercut!”

From his upside-down position, he saw the way the man looked back, then to the bird man sitting beside him.

Qrow glanced up from the lit-up square he was holding. “Don’t look at me! I’m not the one teaching her.”

“I wanna name him Strawberry!” Ruby cut in. She had grabbed hold of one of his paws and was squishing down the pads. It felt kind of weird.

Tai turned back to the window. “That’s a good one. We’ll think about that one sweetheart.”

Yang started to flap his ears around, which made it a little hard to hear Qrow when he spoke up again. “How about Dos?”

“Dos?” Tai echoed. “Like dose of medicine?”

He stuck out his tongue. Most of the choices had gone right over his head. But he did know what medicine was. The sickly dogs told him to beware if a human ever used that term, because that meant they were going to force feed him something gross.

“No. D-O-S. It’s an old Valian language. It means two.”

“Alright well, uncle Qrow has decided to be unhelpful, so keep ‘em coming girls.”

Similar to the way the anticipation would overwhelm the shelter whenever a human walked in, his new pack seemed to have the same habit of yapping over one another.

“Blackie!” Ruby called.

Then, Qrow. “Don’t like that one? How about Ni?”

Tai, snipping back, “We are not naming him knee!”

“At least call him roundhouse.” Yang’s voice was getting a little shrill.

“No! No martial arts moves!”

Ruby, again: “Palm strike!”

“Yeah sis!” The slap of the girls’ hands made him jump a little.

“Okay you two are banned too. We’re naming him Cerberus.”

“Noooo!”

Oh, he knew this cry! He pulled his head back, howling with them.

In the wake of the noise, silence followed, all eyes on him. He looked around, confused. Why had they stopped?

Then, all at once, the four of them started to laugh. He knew it was the human’s way of wagging their tails, since they lacked them and all. So, he wiggled and yipped, feeling more like he belonged then he ever thought possible.

Eventually, Qrow’s game won out. The name, his name, was chosen just as the contraption rolled to a stop.

“Hey, how about this one? Zwei.”

Tai drummed his fingers along the circle he was holding onto, looking up with a frown. “I hate how much I like that.”

“Hah! See, and you were making fun of me.” He twisted around, looking back at them. “What do you think rugrats? Is Zwei a keeper?”

“Yes!” Ruby chimed in.

Yang gave it more thought. “Zwei as in…” She smooshed his face, tapping their noses together, “Zwei’re you so cute?”

“…I regret everything.” Qrow looked like someone just stole his nest. Beside him, Tai doubled over, barking with more laughter.

From that day on, he was part of the pack.

Four months and eight days after his adoption, any lingering doubts he had left about his place among his newfound pack were completely abolished.

“Come on Zwei,” Ruby whispered to him as she opened up the back door, giggling behind her hand. He’d come to learn that was a sign that they were going out to play.

So he rushed around her feet and into the backyard, paws immediately sinking into the muddy trail that had been caused by a passing storm. It was still rather dreary overhead and he could scent the petrichor coming from the surrounding flora. His packmate ran past him, heading around the shed with the same sense of purpose she got when she was stealing treats out of the cupboard for the two of them. Were there some back there too?

“Wait for me!” He called, bounding after her in excitement. As he came around the back, he found what had captured Ruby’s attention so. Behind the shed was a lake-sized puddle, caused by the way the land dipped ever so slightly. She was already ankle deep in the water, gathering up globs of mud and setting it on the grass in a pile.

When he approached, she told him, “I’m making mud pies!”

Oh, that was a type of food! Tai had made it before. It had been something really sweet smelling that he wasn’t allowed to have.

He hears Ruby’s giggles when he practically sticks his nose right in, taking a deep breath. Just as quickly, he pulls away with a huff of displeasure. Definitely not for eating.

“Mud Pie Zwei!”

He perked up at his name, only to hunker down as the next handful of mud is deposited on his back. When Ruby dips her hands back in, he hurries away before she can load on more. He could feel the thick of it weighing down his fur and the wet of it sliding down his haunches. It wasn’t pleasant at all, so he shook himself to fling most of it off.

“That was gross!” He barks, which only seemed to increase her laughter.

Well. Two can play it that game.

He leaps with as much distance his little legs can provide, landing in the puddle with a big splash.

“Zwei!” Ruby shrieks, her dress now covered in wet spots and mud.

He wades towards her, taunting back, “What are you gonna do now?”

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she truly understood him what with the way she responded by scooping her hands in the water and throwing it at him. In retaliation, he races around her, little waves kicking up in his wake. At the edge he pauses, lowering down on his forepaws until his chin brushes the water, waiting to see what his packmate would do next.

“Oh, it is ON!” She hollers, charging for him.

“Bring it!” He challenged right back, darting to the side and ducking around her when she tries to make a grab for him.

It begins a game of chase; one he’d already grown quite familiar with and one he was certain to lose. Ruby was bigger and faster than him, spirited like Skystorm had been. The rest of their pack didn’t appreciate that level of liveliness like he could. He was always happy to engage her, finding new, creative ways to escape her clutches before she ultimately snatched him up. Today he was trying to zig-zag the same way he saw that little black snake move in the garden; until his pack alpha crushed it into black smoke under his boot, that is.

It seemed his new trick was his best yet, because Ruby was having to scramble after him. “Hah, can’t catch me!” He called back at her, dashing for the tree line.

“Zwei don’t go in the – ah!”

He heard a yelp and the feet coming after him abruptly stopped.

Then, a more terrifying noise boomed over his senses, “Zwei! Come!”

He slid to a stop so fast, he somersaulted over his paws, landing on his back hard enough to make the air in his lungs whoosh out. He tilted his head back, looking at the upside-down view of his secondary alpha, his near permanent frown more pronounced than usual. He hadn’t even heard him approach! What kind of hunting skill was that?

“What were you thinking?” Qrow demanded of the young pup he had under his arm. “I’ve told you a thousand times not to go into the forest!”

Ruby wiggled valiantly in his grasp to no avail. “We weren’t gonna!”

“Ain’t gonna believe that when you already broke the ‘no going outside today’ rule.” He looked up, then pointed down aggressively. “Zwei, I said come!”

Obediently, he rolled over, slinking forward with a pitiful whine that sometimes got him out of trouble. “We were just having fun, honest.”

Qrow had never been quite as movable as his other alpha though, only scooping him up under his other arm and storming back for the house. “Gods you’re both a mess. I’m throwing you in the tub.”

“Nooooo!” He howled with Ruby.

Beyond a gripe about ‘thinking more before they go running into mud’, the alpha largely ignored them, hauling them upstairs. He paused only long enough to peek into one of the bedrooms. A little lump of blankets on one of the beds trembled every now and again and a loud hacking started up.

Some of the tension on his scary face finally melted, his voice a gentle timbre when he speaks, “How you doing firecracker?”

“M’okay.” She snuffled back from her hiding place.

“Okay. I got to get these escape artists into the bath – but holler if you need anything alright?”

“I will.”

Zwei’s ears dropped when her hacking started up anew. It had been just a small thing this morning, but now she sounded worse than some of the dogs back at the shelter when they got plagued by kennel cough.

He didn’t have long to dwell on it, as Qrow continued on his way, kicking the bathroom door shut with his foot before setting them on the bathroom rug. “Alright, clothes off.”

Rather than listen, Ruby crossed her arms and sat down stubbornly. He walked the few steps it took to join her, plopping down as well.

Their alpha sighed, stepping over them to get the water started. “Kiddo, work with me here.”

“No!”

An agitated hand ruffled through his hair until it seemed more like a puffed-up cat tail. “How about for a scoop of strawberry ice cream?” Rather than answer, she held up two fingers. “…Who taught you this level of swindling? Fine! Two it is. But no telling your dad.”

“Deal!” She hopped up, throwing off one of her layers and dropping it with a wet plop on the ground.

“Hey wait!” Zwei stomped over to Qrow. “What do I get?”

Apparently it was to be picked up and dropped into the tub. The water was just enough to cover his paws. He scrambled for the edge of the basin, too small to actually make it over. He wasn’t left alone for long, Ruby eventually climbing in beside him, all her normal, colorful furs gone. The water eventually rose up until it touched his chin, and he had to paddle a bit to get around – not that there was anywhere to go.

Zwei didn’t really like baths. The water was warm, but the ground underneath his feet was hard to stand on, causing him to slip and sometimes water would go up his nose when that happened. Then there was the shampoo. It was some really awful smelling, awful tasting stuff that would get lathered into his fur. The stink of it would overwhelm him, his own, better scent being cancelled out by the gunk. Even when he rolled it out into the grass, it persistently clung to him for days.

So no, he didn’t like baths. He especially didn’t like Qrow’s version. He was too rough. His fingers would score through his fur like he was trying to rip it away and he’d push the undercoat in all the wrong ways until it left everything kind of hurting. Today was no different.

“Ow, ow, ow!” He wailed. “That’s too hard!”

The scrubbing, if possible, got worse. “Quit bellyaching, we’re almost done.”

“He’s kind of a baby, isn’t he?” Ruby asked from her side of the tub, trying to turn her bubbly head fur into sticks just like a porcupine.

“I am not a baby!”

“Oi, don’t jump Zwei!”

“You know, this is a lot of racket for a bath.” The final voice was new, but familiar.

His tail started to wag immediately, slipping out of Qrow’s grip so he could hop and get a look at his other alpha. “Welcome home! I missed you!”

“Hi daddy!” Ruby greeted.

“Hey there.” Tai said, stepping into the bathroom. He peered down at his mate inquisitively. “Need help?”

“Please.”

The response was a jovial laugh as the man rolled up his sleeves and settled down beside him. Zwei felt a little jealous when he attended to Ruby. “Were you causing trouble for your uncle?”

“Nuh-huh. I behaved!”

Qrow snorted, resuming his torture. Ignoring Zwei’s calls of displeasure, he instead spoke to his mate. “You find the medicine?”

“Yeah. Gave it to Yang before coming in here. Tip your head back honey.” Tai poured a small pitcher full of water down Ruby’s head, using his hand as a shield to keep any from falling into her eyes. As he scooped up more of the bathwater to douse her again, he continued, “We’ll have to keep an eye on her fever. We might want to let her sleep with us tonight.”

“No fair! I wanna sleep with you guys!”

As his chin was lifted up, Zwei huffed out, “Me too.”

“Tell you what Rubes,” Qrow said as he took the pitcher that was handed over to him, going through the motions with him now. “Why don’t you and I have a little sleepover of our own? We can set up a fort in the guest room and everything.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

Zwei’s ears fell. Of course the alpha would do that – Ruby was so obviously his favorite pup. Looks like he was stuck downstairs. Alone. Again.

“Yeah. We can even bring the little scamp here.”

He blinked back as Qrow looked down at him. Wait… did he mean…?

“Just don’t have an accident and make me regret it, you got that mutt?”

He did. He did! His whole body practically vibrated with the force of his excitement, jumping out of his grasp so he could lick his hand. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

Qrow drew his hand back immediately. “Ack gross!”

Tai’s boisterous laughter echoed, before he reached out for his pup. “Come on Ruby. You’re done.” He lifted her up and out of the tub, wrapping her up in a towel and walking out of the room. “You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“I want my combat skirt!”

“Alright, alright…”

It wasn’t long before Zwei followed her out, draped in a towel of his own and brought downstairs. A fire was made in the hearth to combat the chill settling in as the day waned on. Eventually, that’s where he found himself stretched out in front of for his midday-play nap, stirring only when his pack moved about.

Nothing managed to rouse him completely until a commotion started up in the next room and he awoke to a day much darker than before. Ruby and Yang were on the couch, the latter curled up in a miserable ball as they watched their colorful moving pictures on the television.

He got to his feet, stretching out with a long yawn, before he trotted over to the kitchen. His alpha pair were both there. Qrow was sitting on the counter by the sink, sipping an amber liquid in a short glass and watching his mate as he fussed about the stove. Whatever Tai was making smelt absolutely delicious, like chicken and rice kibble but more refined and fresher. Mouth watering, Zwei slunk underneath the dining table chairs and emerged just into their sight. He sat himself down at the edge of the rug, making sure not even a claw touched into the ‘Never Ever Cross While Alpha is Cooking’ section of the kitchen.

“Can I have some?” He beseeched lowly.

Tai looked over his shoulder, smiling brightly. “There’s my good boy! Up!”

He sat up on his hind legs, snatching the morsel that was tossed to him in his jaws. He savored the scrap of chicken slowly, licking his chops once he’d swallowed it.

“Good catch!” His alpha praised him, before turning back to his work. When Qrow started to shift off the counter, he pointed a knife towards him. “And where are you going? We weren’t done.”

It seemed his mate thought they were, with the way he scoffed. “Look, if you want to ground her so bad, you do it.”

Zwei had come to realize that breeding pairs were very strange. Or perhaps maybe just his were; he certainly couldn’t make heads or tails of their lack of pheromonal compatibility. More critically was in how little they ran the pack like a unit. It made for a rather confusing predicament when Tai would let him nestle on the armchair – but Qrow would absolutely not tolerate it. He had to wonder if his other packmates ever felt the same.

Tai’s sigh was tinged with a rarely heard frustration. “It’s not about the punishment, it’s about who’s giving it. I can’t keep punishing the girls for rules you lay down.”

“Why not? You’re the dad here.”

“You really think Ruby hasn’t figured out that when you’re the only one home, she can get away with whatever she wants?”

Qrow snorted, downing his drink and setting it on the counter he’d vacated. “She’s six Tai. Not exactly in her prime to be a master manipulator.”

“No.” He set down the knife, turning to him fully. “But that doesn’t mean she’s dumb.”

Coming to the conclusion no other treats were coming his way, Zwei laid down on the rug, head between his paws, mostly tuning them out as they carried on. Maybe he should just take his post-nap nap. He was just starting to drift, when one particularly loud shout had him jolting out of his daze.

“Oh so I just don’t care, is that it?”

“I didn’t say that! And keep your voice down.” Tai shushed. “I know you love them, Qrow. I just… don’t understand why you want to turn them against me.”

His mate jerked back a bit, as if struck. “What in Gods’ name are you talking about?”

“Can you really not see where this will eventually go?”

With a long exhale, Zwei settled again, listening to them with only half an ear. This wasn’t the first growling match they’d partaken in, but he wasn’t worried by it. For the outcome was as certain as the sun would be rising tomorrow.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Right on time, Qrow’s tone shifted as did his body. Away. Vulnerable. If he had a tail, he was positive it would be tucked between his legs. “It’s not like you have anything to lose.”

Tai tilted his head, as if trying to figure if the words truly came from him. “Okay, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He tried to retreat, only to be stalled by a hand suddenly on his shoulder.

“No. Come on don’t-” A sigh. “Do you really think the girls will just cast you aside just ‘cause you have to be tough on them sometimes?”

The answer was so soft, even Zwei had to strain to hear. “Been thrown out for less.”

“Oh Qrow.” Before the thinner man knew it, Tai was pulling him into what Zwei could only describe as a ‘standing snuggle’. It looked warm and inviting. “There is nothing in this world you could do to make us stop loving you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that.” And then Tai said something Zwei would never forget: “Family isn’t a competition where the prize is love. Love just is. You don’t earn it by performing your best, you’re just given it from being here and caring about us just as much as we care about you.”

There were a few more things that were spoken, but the fight was over for sure when the mating pair started licking each other’s mouths. Overzealously, as usual.

But the call for peace, joyful as it was, did not impact Zwei as much as his pack leader’s words. For they washed over him with a great ferocity, reaching in and cleansing him from the inside where Hunter’s dark words still resided in his heart. The fear that had footed there that he would not be wanted finally came loose, strand by strand, until it was hanging by nothing but a thread.

It wasn’t until that night, with Ruby’s head nestled into his back and his nose tucked against the welcome warmth of Qrow’s side, that the final root broke as the words finally hit home.

There may be a lot he lacked, but no amount of skills compared to the simple act of just being there. The one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that love was something he could give this family without end.

So no, he wasn’t fierce like a Doberman. Or noble like a shepherd. Or even charming like a poodle.

He was just Zwei. And that’s all he needed to be.

#zwei #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #taiqrow #taiqrowweek #ruby rose #yang xiao long #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale #...These tags sure are odd this time around xD

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littlesparklight · 4 years

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Excerpt for a fic that’d basically follow a plot through from Zeus’ coming to Kronos’ court and to Prometheus’ fall, from Pometheus’ POV. This is right at the beginning, first impressions are important, aren’t they?

***

"Look what I found while out, up near Dodona! It's he fetching?" Metis chuckled, thrusting the young man in front of her as if presenting a prize. Her hands on his shoulders were gentle, though, if anyone even noticed. Prometheus did. "You were looking for a cupbearer, were you not, Lord Kronos?"

Those gray eyes wandered the megaron with placid blankness, though there was the tiniest of squints crinkling the corner of them. Electric blue met gray, and Prometheus and Metis' lost bird stared at each other, the boy pursing his lips just slightly. Prometheus couldn't tell if it was a would-be sneer or something more thoughtful, but he liked it little either way. He kept his face blank until the youth looked forward, dipping his head away from Kronos' stare and bowed.

"My lord." His voice was sweetly resonant, dipping into surprising depths in contrast to his present lankiness, but perhaps he'd grow into it. More to the point, his tone was just as respectful as it needed to be to draw no attention to it, and he bowed just deep enough it looked deeper than it was. It was impressive, and exactly how he would have done it if he was in this young god's place. This boy was dangerous. He was also clearly here for a reason, and Prometheus, keeping his face carefully blank aside from a thoughtful quirk to an eyebrow, didn't like it.

But, he didn't see any reason that he might not yet be able to use this. This young god was just a boy, his youth practically radiating from him; whatever his ambitions, Prometheus saw no troubles from working around them... or using them for his own means, making the boy do most of his work for him.

"Indeed." Kronos looked his prospective cupbearer over with an intent gleam in his eyes that spoke more of greedy desire to possess than any actual personal interest in the person or the body of the youth. It was the power of his presence he wanted to be able to lay claim to, one more such under his roof and authority. "What's your name, then?"

"I was born as Velchanos to great Gaia," the boy - Velchanos - said with the easy confidence of familiarity, and confirming Prometheus' assumption. At the same time that confirmation immediately made him wonder, too, as if such a straightforward answer just couldn't be the correct one. That his name might well be Velchanos Prometheus was certainly inclined to believe; it rang of Crete, and Crete was far from Mount Othrys. A young god there could easily go unnoticed, even one with this nascent strength. Gaia also certainly could still be his mother, as well; he was so small, compared to some of her other children, who would have noticed him be born? But still. Prometheus wondered. "And I have wandered, recently, and some call me Naios."

Prometheus frowned faintly. Wasn't there something about a Naios and Dodona..? The mortals up there had recently been one of the few who'd actually showed some initiative about questioning their plush lifestyle, at the urging of a god. Supposedly, anyway. Prometheus always paid attention to such things, for he always hoped it could lead somewhere interesting. This had been over barely before it'd begun, as those who'd listened had been silenced even before anyone else had probably noticed, even more so before Kronos could turn his attention there to crush such thoughts, the other humans unwilling to listen. There were none of them in Dodona; the only oracular seat allowed was Delphi, but then, humans thought any random nymph or spirit to answer their questions might be the voice of one of the Titans, despite that they'd not have the power to hear Gaia, the Moirai, or the flow of ananke properly. This boy, too, was too young to be able to offer much accuracy just yet. Though if he was what, and who, had tried to incite some change among the humans around Dodona, Prometheus did know two things more certainly; he was bold, to proclaim himself that way, to risk that someone else had heard of his connection to Dodona, and secondly he did have some underlying reason for being here.

Was Metis part of that reason, or had she been charmed by his high cheekbones, wide, bright eyes and the sleek cut of his limbs?

Glancing to her while Kronos' new cupbearer got a chance to show his skill and ability, Prometheus watched Metis watch Velchanos, her bright eyes soft, and wondered if she hadn't been mastered by her heart in the end. Metis was clever and could be a right terror, but anyone could fall with the right person to do the pushing. The youth certainly looked like someone who might know how to use what he had, if he'd used Metis to get here, whatever his reason was. On the other hand, the whole thing could be mutual infatuation and an attempt to situate themselves so Metis didn't have to sneak around with her new lover. Velchanos was subtle about it, but Prometheus caught him looking back towards Metis at least three times, one with a slight frown, the second with a small smile that could have been anything, and the third - well, that flash of a grin, practically glowing with self-confidence, was as grating as it was stunning.

It really was no wonder Metis had fallen, regardless of if it was one-sided or mutual.

#greek mythology #prometheus #zeus #lightart #they're like that dog in the mirror comic #WHO IS HE #they both think #staring at each other #too alike in 'dignity'

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nyxshadowhawk · 5 years

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Nyx’s Complete List of Goth Names

Abaddon: From Greek, means "destruction" or "demon of the pit."

Acheron: The River of Woe in the Greek underworld.

Achlys: Greek primordial goddess of poison, misery, and sadness, personification of the death-mist.

Adonis: Means "lord" (as in Adonai). In Greek mythology, the most beautiful youth in the world, loved by both Persephone and Aphrodite. Died tragically.

Adrian/Adrienne: English, from Latin; means "from Hadria" (the Adriatic Sea). I've heard sources saying it means "dark one," but I haven't been able to confirm this. It's still a really cool, kind of gothy name. (Also the real name of Alucard from Castlevania.)

Ahriman: The Zoroastrian devil/evil god.

Akeldama: Means "field of blood," a place in Jerusalem associated with Judas.

Alastor: Greek, means "avenging spirit."

Alcmene: (Female) Means "might of the moon," Heracles' mother in mythology.

Alecto: One of the Erinyes (Furies), the goddesses of vengeance. Means "unceasing."

Altair: The brightest star in the constellation Aquila (the Eagle), from Arabic, meaning "the bird."

Amaranth: (Female) Greek; a mythical purple flower that never fades, a symbol of immortality.

Amethyst: A dark purple crystal, associated with wine and preventing drunkenness.

Andromeda: Greek, means "thinks like a man," the name of a princess in mythology, a constellation, and a galaxy.

Anubis: Jackal-headed Egyptian god of death and embalming.

Arcana: From Latin "hidden, secret" (literally "to shut in a chest"), refers to secrets or mysteries. Also refers to the groups of cards in a tarot deck (the major and minor arcana).

Arianrhod: Means "silver wheel," Welsh goddess of the moon, stars, and the flow of time.

Artemis/Diana: Greco-Roman goddess of the hunt, the moon, and virginity

Asmodeus: Means "wrath-demon," a Goetic demon appearing in a number of texts, representing luxury, sensuality, and lust. (Also Asmodai)

Asphodel: A white flower planted on graves, said to grow in the Greek underworld, and therefore heavily connected with death.

Astaroth: (Unisex) A demon in the Ars Goetia (from the Lesser Key of Solomon), described as a male demon and a Duke of Hell, but the name likely comes from the Phoenician goddess Astarte (or Ashtoreth), who is a version of Ishtar (Babylonian) and Inanna (Sumerian).

Astor: A French and German name from Occitan, meaning "goshawk." A goshawk is a bird of prey. I've read on naming sites that this name was originally a derogatory term for young men with hawk-like, predatory characteristics, but I haven't found anything to confirm this. This is the name of my alter-ego and one of the main protagonists of Shadowbook.

Astra/Astrid/Asteria: From Greek, "star." In Greek mythology, Asteria was a Titaness of astrology and prophecy, the mother of Hecate. An aster is also a star-shaped flower.

Atropos: The last of the Moirai (Fates), who cuts the thread at the end of life.

Autumn: The darkening part of the year, when everything is dying, and Halloween happens.

Azrael: The name of the Angel of Death, means "whom god helps." (Also Asriel)

Azazel: A Watcher's name, means "scapegoat." Taught humanity the arts of weaponry and cosmetics. Commonly associated with demons and evil.

Baphomet: A goat-headed, winged deity associated with Satanism; obscure etymology.

Bastet: Egyptian goddess of cats.

Belial: A Hebrew name meaning "worthless," a name of the devil or a demon.

Belladonna: Also called "deadly nightshade," an extremely poisonous plant that causes hallucinations and death.

Bellona: Roman goddess of war

Bezaliel: Means "shadow of God" or "damaged," a Watcher's name.

Blodeuwedd: Pronounced "bluh-DIE-weth," means "flower-face." A Welsh goddess who was turned into an owl.

Bram/Brom: Technically short for Abraham ("father of a multitude"), the author of Dracula, Abraham "Bram" Stoker.

Bran: Welsh, "raven." The name of Bran the Blessed, a giant and king of Britain in Welsh mythology.

Branwen: (Female) Welsh, means "white raven" or "fair raven."

Breksta: Lithuanian goddess of night, dreams, and twilight.

Caligo: Latin word for “mist,” “gloom,” and “darkness.” (Calignes is the plural, which could also work) (feminine)

Calypso: Greek, "she who conceals." The nymph who kept Odysseus imprisoned on her island.

Carmilla: A lesbian vampire from the gothic novel of the same name, predating Dracula. The name seems to have been invented by the author.

Cassius: Roman, "empty, hollow."

Ceridwen: Welsh enchantress or goddess who stirs the cauldron of poetic inspiration.

Cernunnos: Celtic forest god depicted as having a stag's antlers.

Chiroptera: Literally means "hand wing," the order of bats in taxonomy.

Circe: Means "circle." In Greek mythology, a sorceress who turned Odysseus' men into pigs (and later helped them).

Cora: From the Greek name Kore, meaning "maiden." A name for Persephone. (Also, Coraline.)

Cornix: A princess transformed into a crow by Athena in Ovid's Metamorphosis.

Corvus/Corax: Corvus corax is the scientific name of the common raven.

Crimson: Dark, rich red, the color of wine or blood. One of the Gothiest colors that isn't black. It's very easy for this to sound banal or cringey, especially if it's a character's given name, so use with caution. Scarlet works, too, if you want something easier to use as a given name.

Damian: From Greek, means "to tame," tends to be associated with demons or vampires, a bit cliche at this point.

Dantalion: A Goetic demon, the name is particularly cool.

Desdemona: A tragic character in Othello, comes from Greek and means "ill-fated." Can be shortened to "Mona."

Desmodus: The genus of common vampire bats. (D. rotundus)

Devana: Slavic version of Artemis/Diana, goddess of the hunt.

Dorian: The corrupt, depraved, nearly immortal and astonishingly beautiful protagonist from The Picture of Dorian Gray. (Turns out Oscar Wilde invented the name; it did not exist before the book was written.)

Dracul: Romanian, "devil" or "dragon." What really needs to be said?

Ebony: A very dark wood.

Echo: In Greek mythology, a nymph who was cursed so she would only repeat the names of others; died while pining after Narcissus.

Edgar: Anglo-Saxon, "rich spear." The name of the one and only Edgar Allen Poe (also, my cat).

Eidolon: A type of spirit or ghost in Greek liteature. Also a genus of bats.

Eirlys: Welsh, "snowflake."

Elatha: An Irish god, described as the "beautiful Miltonic prince of darkness with golden hair." Not sure what the source for that is, but cool!

Elvira: Spanish, means "foreign true," a stereotypical Goth name (and the name of the Mistress of the Dark!). Actually, I first ran across the name in reference to a vengeful ghost called Elvira Blood in New England folk legend. Spooky!

Empusa: A kind of Greek female demon (similar to Lamia) that served Hecate.

Endora: Comes from the Witch of Endor, a Biblical sorceress.

Endymion: In Greek mythology, a handsome shepherd whom Selene fell in love with. Zeus granted him eternal sleep so he would never age. Means "to dive, to enter."

Erebus: Greek primordial god and personification of darkness.

Esmeralda: Spanish name meaning "emerald." (Also, the heroine in The Hunchback of Notre Dame.)

Ethelinda: Anglo-Saxon, means "little serpent."

Euryale: Greek, means "far-roming," the middle Gorgon sister.

Eurynomos: Greek chthonic spirit of corpses.

Eventide: It could work as a name.

Fenrir: A wolf demon in Norse mythology, the son of Loki.

Finvarra: Irish, King of the Fairies (and sometimes King of the Dead), a benevolent entity that ensures a good harvest and abundance.

Gabriel: The angel. Means "warrior of god." Gabrielle also works (and is the name of Lestat's mother).

Gehenna: A Hebrew name for Tartarus or Hell.

Golgotha: From Hebrew, "skull," the place where Jesus was crucified.

Grimm: The surname of two German brothers who recorded a classic collection of oral folklore and fairy tales, many of which are very... well, grim.

Habundia: A Celtic name for the queen of witches and night creatures, possibly another name for Nicnevan. Etymology uncertain.

Hades: The Lord of the Underworld in Greek mythology (also the name of the Underworld itself).

Hawthorn: A type of shrub steeped in folklore, associated with fairies and with Beltane (1st May).

Hecate: Greek goddess of witchcraft, magic, the occult, the moon, necromancy, the Underworld, and the crossroads. Means "worker from far off."

Hellebore: A type of evergreen flower, some species of which are poisonous. Believed to summon demons, also believed to cure madness.

Hemlock: A plant used to poison people.

Herne: "the Hunter," a ghost that haunts Windsor Forest (sometimes identified with The Horned God).

Hesperos/ia: The evening star.

Hypnos: The Greek god of sleep.

Iblis: Satan in Islamic lore.

Idris: Welsh, "ardent (passionate, fiery) lord."

Igor: Russian, "bow-warrior." Became famous as the name of Frankenstein's hunchbacked assistant, even though he doesn't exist in the book and his name in the original Universal film was Fritz.

Ingram: Swedish name meaning "Ing's raven."

Iolanthe: Greek, means "violet flower." (eye-oh-LAHN-thay)

Iseult/Isolde/Isolt: A tragic lover in Arthurian legend.

Jasmine: A type of flower, in this case referring to Cestrum nocturnum, or night-blooming jasmine.

Kali: Hindu goddess of destruction, name means "the black one."

Kasdaye: Means "hidden power," the name of a Watcher (another name for Tamiel). (Unisex)

Kiara/n: Gaelic, means "little black one."

Kimaris: A Goetic demon. (Male)

Kokabiel: Means "angel of the stars," a Watcher.

Lacrimae: Latin word for tears.

Lamia: A female demon in Greek folklore who devours children. The name of the witch in the film version of Stardust.

Lenore: A variant of Eleanor (also a good name), means "foreign," the lost love of the protagonist of "The Raven," also has her own poem.

Leshii: A Russian god of hunting, similar to Veles

Lethe: River of Forgetfulness in the Greek Underworld.

Leviathan: From Hebrew, "twisted in folds," a Biblical sea monster. Sometimes associated with Midgard's Serpent.

Libitina: A Roman goddess of corpses, funerals, and the dead.

Ligeia: Greek, the name of a Siren, also the subject of a Poe story of the same name.

Lilah: Comes from the Arabic Leila, meaning "night."

Lilith: Means "of the night" or "screech owl." In Hebrew mythology, Adam's first wife and the Queen of Demons. She refused to submit to Adam, so she left Eden and began screwing around with demons. Often considered a succubus or vampire, or a champion of feminism. A lilim is also a succubus or incubus.

Loki: Trickster god in Norse mythology with ambiguous morals.

Lorelei: German, means "murmuring rock," the name of a German Siren.

Lucius/Lucifer/Lucien: All mean "light" or "light-bringer," a name associated with Satan.

Lucy: From Dracula, also could be a shortening/feminization of Lucifer. (Still means "light.")

Luna: The Roman personification of the moon.

Lycoris: A Greek word that means "twilight," the name of an Asian red flower, associated with death and the underworld (much like Asphodel).

Maeve: Comes from Gaelic, means "the intoxicating one." Associated with the Fairy Queen Mab.

Makaria: Greek goddess of blessed death, a daughter of Hades and Persephone.

Mania: Etruscan/Roman goddess of the undead, ghosts, and underworld spirits, goddess of madness. Also a modern medical term referring to a specific mental illness.

Mara: A name steeped in darkness, referring to a nightmare spirit (nightmare), a (benevolent) goddess of death in Latvian mythology, a (male) demon in Buddhist mythology, and a Sanskrit word meaning "death."

Medea: In Greek mythology, the sorceress who helped Jason, but then went on a murderous rampage when he left her. Considered to be a priestess (or, rarely, daughter) of Hecate.

Megaera: One of the Erinyes (Furies), the goddesses of vengeance. Means "grudge."

Melanie: Greek, "black" or "dark."

Melantha: Greek, "dark flower."

Melinda/Mindy: English, "black serpent."

Melinoe: Greek goddess of ghosts, nightmares, and madness, a daughter of Hades and Persephone.

Mephistopheles: The name of the devil in the Faust legend, could be from Hebrew and mean "disperser of lies," or from Greek and mean "does not love the light."

Merle: (Unisex) from French, "blackbird."

Mina: From Dracula. Short for Wilhelmina, a German name meaning "will-helmet."

Morana/Marzanna: Slavic goddess of winter and death.

Morgan/Morgana: From Welsh, means "sea-circle," the name of Morgan le Fay, a sorceress in Arthurian Legend (who may be good or evil, depending on your interpretation).

Morpheus: The Greek god of dreams, the main protagonist of Neil Gaiman's Sandman comics. (Also, The Matrix.)

Morrigan: An Irish goddess of death, battle, and ravens, name means "great queen."

Morwenna: A Welsh name meaning "maiden." ("Morwanneg" is the name of the witch in Stardust.)

Nepenthe: A magical drug from the Odyssey that cures sorrow and causes forgetfulness.

Nephthys: Means "lady of the temple," the Egyptian goddess of the dead, mate of Seth and mother of Anubis.

Nergal: Mesopotamian god of death, war, and destruction.

Nicnevan: Queen of the Fairies in Scottish folklore. She is the Scottish version of Hecate.

Nightshade: A family of plants including tomatoes, potatoes, and eggplants, but also the notorious deadly nightshade.

Nisha/nt: A Hindi name meaning "night."

Nocturne: Self-explanatory. Refers to a night prayer, a musical composition evoking night, or a night scene in art.

Nyctala/Nyctea: Two obsolete genera of owls. Nyctala is the genus of Boreal owls before it was changed to Aegolius, and Nyctea was the genus of Snowy owls before it was changed to Bubo. Both probably mean or are related to "night."

Nyctalus: A genus of bats.

Nyctimene: A princess from Ovid's Metamorphoses who was so ashamed at having been molested by her father, she refused to show her face in daylight. Out of pity, Minerva (Athena) turned her into an owl. Also a genus of bats.

Nyx: A Greek primordial goddess and personification of the Night. (also Nox)

Oberon: From French, means "elf-ruler," the name of the Fairy King in A Midsummer Night's Dream (Referred to in one scene as the "king of shadows").

Obsidian: A shiny black volcanic stone.

Onyx: A type of banded stone, most famously black. (The word comes from the Greek for "fingernail.")

Ophelia: A tragic character in Hamlet, which probably comes from Greek and means "help."

Orcus: A Latin word for Hell, and a Roman god who punished the dead (possibly an epithet of Hades/Pluto).

Orion: A hunter in Greek mythology, and the famous constellation.

Orlok: The name of the ugly-looking vampire from Nosferatu.

Orpheus: Greek name, possibly comes from the word orphe, "darkness." The name of a demigod with an impossibly beautiful singing voice who attempted to rescue his love from the underworld, failed, and then died tragically.

Pan: Greek goat-horned god of nature, herds, and lust, induces "panic."

Pandora: Name means "all-gifted." In Greek mythology, the name of the first woman, who opened a box that unleashed evil upon the world.

Pandemonium: The capital city of Hell in Paradise Lost, name literally means "all demons."

Persephone: Greek Queen of the Underworld, wife of Hades, and goddess of springtime. You probably know her story. Her name might mean "thrasher of grain" (which would make sense for an agricultural goddess), but could also mean "slayer."

Phaenon: Means "shining" in Greek, refers to the planet Saturn (which has long been associated with darkness in mythology, being the furthest planet from the sun that is observable with the naked eye).

Pluto: Hades' Roman name, also the ninth planet, or what was the ninth planet.

Ransley: An English name meaning "raven's meadow."

Raven: This is by far the most cliche Goth name there is (I originally created this list to provide alternatives to the name “Raven”), but it’s classic, it’s simple, it’s unisex, and it’s undeniably Goth.

Ravenna: Self-explanatory, also an Italian city.

Renwick: Scottish surname meaning "raven settlement."

Sable: A word referring to the color black.

Salome: From Hebrew shalom, "peace." The daughter of Herod and Herodias, unnamed in the Bible, who requested the head of John the Baptist and danced the Dance of the Seven Veils.

Samael: Means "venom of God," a vicious angel of death, the mate of Lilith. He is not technically a fallen angel, but a servant of God who does the dirty work.

Sekhmet: Egyptian goddess of war and destruction, with the head of a lioness. Her name means "power" or "might." Her epithets included "Mistress of Dread," "Lady of Slaughter," and "She Who Mauls." Ra had to stop her from killing people by getting her drunk on beer that was dyed to look like blood.

Selene: Greek personification of the moon. (Includes "Selena" and variants.")

Senka: Basque name meaning "shadow."

Seren: (Unisex) Welsh name meaning "star."

Seth: A name of Set or Sutekh, the Egyptian god of evil, chaos, and storms. He killed his brother Osiris and cut his body into pieces, and then was defeated by Horus. His head is that of an animal that looks kind of like an aardvark but is not an actual existing creature (at least not anymore). He was associated with the color red and the desert. His name possibly means "one who dazzles."

Shadow: Self-explanatory.

Silas: From Greek, means "from the forest." In The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, it's the name of a [spoiler]vampire.

Silver: The color of the moon, and it looks nice with black.

Sinistra: Technically, it's Latin for "left," but it obviously has "sinister" connotations.

Skiá: Greek word for "shadow" or "shade."

Skotos: Ancient Greek word for "darkness," especially the darkness of death or the netherworld, or obscurity.

Skuld: The last of the Norns (Fates), representing death. Means "debt."

Sombra: The Spanish word for "shadow."

Somnus: Roman name for Hypnos, sleep.

Spyridon: Greek name referring to wicker baskets, which implies wealth. Could also be connected to the Latin spiritus, which means breath or spirit. Usually shortened to Spyro.

Stella: The Latin word for "star."

Stheno: Greek, means "forceful." The eldest of the Gorgon sisters.

Styx: The River of Hate in the Greek Underworld, the most famous of its rivers. The souls of the dead are ferried across it by Charon, and the gods (foolishly, if you ask me, seeing as they always regret it) swear on the Styx to make unbreakable oaths. The word "Stygian" means "of the River Styx" and refers to something very dark or abyssal.

Summanus: Roman god of nocturnal thunder.

Sylvia/Sylvana: Latin, "from the forest."

Tanith: Phoenician, "serpent lady."

Tartarus: The deepest hell-pit of the Greek Underworld, where evildoers are punished.

Tempest: A wild storm, from the Latin for "time."

Thanatos: The Greek personification of Death.

Tiamat: Babylonian primordial dragon goddess.

Tisiphone: One of the Erinyes (Furies), the goddesses of vengeance. Means "murder-retribution."

Tristan: Welsh, "riot, tumult." (Although it sounds like the Latin tristis, which means "sad.") The name of Isolt's lover in Arthurian Legend, and the name of the protagonist in Stardust.

Valerian: Roman, means "strength" or "valiant," also the name of an herb.

Vega: (Unisex) Latin from Arabic, means "falling" or "swooping," a star in the constellation Lyra. It is one of the brightest stars in the entire sky.

Veles: Slavic horned god of cattle, forests, magic, and the underworld.

Veliona: Slavic goddess of death

Velvet: A fabric that most goths love to wear.

Vervain: An herb (verbena), meaning "sacred bough," considered a magical or holy herb in multiple cultures.

Vesperus: (or just Vesper), a Roman name meaning "evening." (Vespera for a girl)

Vespertilio: A genus of bats.

Victor: The first of the trio of gothy male "V" names, means "conqueror," as in "victory." Frankenstein's first name. (Victoria also works for a girl.)

Vincent: The second of the trio of gothy male "V" names, also meaning "conquering," from Latin.

Vivian: The Lady of the Lake in Arthurian legend. From French, means "lively." (Another name for the Lady is Nimue, which is Welsh and may be related to the Greek word for "memory." She sealed Merlin in a tree.)

Vlad: The third of the trio of gothy male "V" names, the name of Vlad Tepes or "Vlad the Impaler," the real-life Romanian prince who inspired Count Dracula. It's Slavic and means "ruler."

Willow: A beautiful and mournful-looking tree.

Winter: The dark, cold season. Unisex!

Yvaine: Scottish, means "evening star," the name of the star in Stardust.

Zagreus: The name of a chthonic Greek god who was potentially a son of Hades and Persephone or Zeus and Persephone, considered in Orphic lore to be Dionysus before he was dismembered and reincarnated.

Zillah: Hebrew name meaning "shadow."

#names #goth names #writing #gothic names #character names #mythology #gods and goddesses #literature #gothic lit #name list

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childoftimeandmagic · 5 years

Text

Burning for You

Klaroline AU Week 2019 is here, catch me sneaking this in under the wire. Thank you @itsnotacrimetoloveyou for getting my author juices flowing again.

Read on AO3

Growing up when giants walked the earth Caroline often felt older than she truly was. That being said being reborn often made her feel exactly her age. Stranding slowly, her head fuzzy with the details, she glanced around her store and groaned. The scorched tile and ashes of where her store had been made sense. Feeling her chest, she felt the healing wound on her chest. Bullet wound, wood by the fact she’d rebirthed so quickly. Humans had the most entertaining toys to play with, holding out her hand she absorbed the residual flames and heat back into her body. If anyone had been around to notice it, they would have seen the briefest glimpse of fiery wings rising behind the naked blonde.

Taking a deep breath, she started moving through the rubble of her jewelry store for anything of value to take with her. Since she’d most likely be considered dead from a mysterious fire, it was time to leave Mystic Falls. After recovering a hundred pieces of gold and silver gemstone encrusted pieces, she took a deep breath and in a swirl of blue fire disappeared from the rubble, just as sirens started to pour in.

Unbeknownst to Caroline someone had been watching her stumble through her former store. Someone who had been looking for the being that couldn’t be killed by a weapon of man nor flame of the gods. A man who was bent on controlling or killing the powerful beings in creation. Someone who believed himself to be the most powerful creature to walk the earth. Klaus Mikaelson stalked from the shadows across the Mystic Falls square his suspicion confirmed.

People had murmured his entire immortal life of the powers of rejuvenation and destruction a Phenix controlled. A nice bedtime story for those who needed a miracle or a plea of vengeance. Then the alters had started popping up, about six hundred years ago or so. Whispers saying that if one left a vibrant gemstone, or something of equal beauty the Auroral Phenix would answer their prayer. Klaus had dismissed it as the blithering tales of human’s hell bent on praying for anyone to save them or protect them.

Then his minions had started pouring in stories of villages being burned down the day after an opal or precious stone had been left at one of these alters in the woods. Soon more stories came in of the sick miraculously healing. Abusers of women and children, catching fire spontaneously while walking through the town after a doll from a little girl or toy cart from a little boy had been left with pleas for help. Yet no one saw anything but a burst pretty petite blonde near the location of every occurrence. Soon his interest was piqued, Rebekah and Elijah had amused his curiosity to an extent.

Caroline reappeared five thousand miles away in her villa ruins of Despotiko. While she could have reappeared anywhere, her family home was were her body always pulled following a rebirth, over the last two thousand years she’d given up on resisting the pull. Despotiko was protected and a national archaeological site for the Greeks. Whether or not they’d ever actually owned it or not was of little matter at this point, the ancient history of man and nymphs lost to time. Once islands across the Mediterranean had been known to be sanctuaries for the children of the gods. Walking through the broken pillars to where she could look out over the bay, she closed her eyes.

Lots of mythos surrounded her people but, in the end, she was the last one left. Shapeshifting hadn’t protected them as much as Helios and Hephaestus had hoped. Man was a cruel race willing to destroy anything it didn’t feel it could control or conquer adequately. Rolling her shoulders, she walked over to her mother’s chest, that she had here masked by magic and careful misdirection. There were sentimental things, like her mother’s molting plumage which never faded, an aquamarine pendent in the shape of a tear, as well as practical things like clothes and weapons. Grabbing her gear, she got dressed quickly. Placing the gems and jewelry she’d recovered from the remnants of Rising Jewelers ashes into the box she placed her hands on the chest and said a prayer to her father to protect her from whatever was chasing her.

She like her mother, was child of an air nymph and the sun god Helios. Nymphs who bore a Phenix didn’t survive the birth, so most Phenix’s lived with an older member of the flock until maturity which was between six hundred and eight hundred years old. While they rarely stayed in human forms, their avian forms in the end had been their undoing.

As humans had realized that they were demi-gods or the grandchildren of a titan and a being of Gia, the desire to control grew. Phenix’s could neither be controlled or tamed, they also couldn’t be recreated through interbreeding. Then the age of iron had come, and with-it man’s weapons grew stronger. Unbeknownst to her flock or her father, to prevent them from growing too strong, Zeus had cursed his cousin’s children to be burned by the touch of iron. As such they could only be killed by iron through the heart or brain.

While man had destroyed her culture 1200 years ago, her god father had spirited her away from the blood bath and placed her with cousin Hephaestus in the volcanic chasms underground until she’d reached maturity of six hundred years old. Carolina as she’d been known then had trained as a jewel smith under her god cousin, who was amazed at her ability to focus and her attention to details.

The old gods slumbered now though, their worshipers far and in-between, not enough to keep them awake. Caroline drifted through the world of man taking time to help innocents here and there. Caroline missed her flock often especially after a traumatic rebirth, but life moved on and with time so did she. Man was impressionable though and with a few well-placed whispers and alters popping up on every continent she thrived.

She pulled a replacement phone from the chest and plugged in the password to unlock it. Walking around the ruins of her old life, she ran a security check on her various properties across the globe. Everything was fine except her store front in New Orleans. Rolling her eyes, she zoomed in on who was sitting on her counter. Niklaus Mikaelson. He had been sniffing after her tail feathers for six centuries. Still her deal with Kol Mikaelson not to engage with his older brother was the reason; why his overzealous murder happy brother wasn’t a crispy critter her to consume.

Growling low in her throat, she felt the fire rise within her. Taking multiple deep breaths didn’t keep her phantom flame wings from unfurling behind her, scorching the points of her shirt where her real wings would have come out of her back. Spinning on her heel she walked back to the chest and grabbed her favorite leather jacket. If Klaus Mikaelson wanted to fuck with her, he was about to find out that getting too close to an open flame got you eaten by the last daughter of the sun.

Klaus was hoping that his minion wasn’t wrong otherwise he was sitting in gorgeous jewelry store that had been closed for five years. In fact, the store according to his minion had closed the day after he and his siblings had returned home. Klaus looked around the store from his spot on the counter impressed with the amount of gold and gems left just sitting on display. Was this woman really so powerful that she felt comfortable leaving such expensive things behind in her absence.

“You know getting ass sweat off of glass is a lot harder than people assume,” a crystal voice startled him out of his thoughts, “get off the furniture hybrid.”

Spinning he looked for the source of the voice, standing behind him was the slight blonde beauty who’d burned and the reformed in the rubble of a small-town jewelry store four nights previous. “So, you aren’t a myth?”

“No very much real now if you want to continue to terrorize your section of the supernatural realm, I suggest you leave now,” the blonde replied, barely looking at him. In fact, it looked almost like she was bored. Snarling he flashed forward only to meet heat and smoke. Turning on his heel he froze as he felt a burning pain on his back. “I told you to leave Mikaelson.”

“I’ve been looking for you,” he breathed through the pain trying to ignore the searing pain that burst forth from her hand on his back.

“You have hmmm, I don’t remember you calling me up or sending me a message on twitter,” she pushed more heat through her hand feeling the flesh start to burn under her hand, the shirt long gone.

“I didn’t think you’d take me call.” he wheezed flashing away finally giving up all pretense that it didn’t hurt to feel her touch.

“Oh, but breaking into one of my stores seemed much smarter,” Caroline was growing impatient. The predator in her wanted to eat him in one gulp, people forgot that some birds weren’t herbivores. She felt the fire from her hand itch to come out and play.

“I wanted to know if the stories were true, if you were the Auroral Phenix incarnate,” he said, shifting his shirt off to look at the scorch marks her hand had left. Only the marking looked more claw than fingered.

“So why not just ask, one apex predator to another?” she asked, looking around her store, and Klaus paused.

Up close he was amazed there weren’t more stories of how beautiful this blonde woman was. Eyes that made him feel he was staring into the deepest pools of water, and hair that could only be described as spun gold. “I never heard tale of a Phenix’s kill, or destruction until you started burning whole villages down as you pleased.”

“It’s not my fault man built their homes out of such flammable material, if they couldn’t handle a little heat then they shouldn’t beat their wives or children,” Caroline stated, as though the thought of not burning down a tinder box of a wooden home hadn’t occurred to her. She was working ridiculously hard at focusing on his ches-no eyes. God why did immortality tend to happen to the only physically gifted individuals of the world.

“So you only ever burned down villages of people who deserved it?” Klaus asked, stepping closer.

“Sometimes a rebirth went wrong, or my heart too heavy to contain my flame,” Caroline sighed, she was growing bored.

“It’s true though, all the stories about your kind though?” he asked, pushing closer when she made no move to stop him.

“Depends on what you’ve heard, though I doubt any of it was actually correct.”

“You don’t cry healing tears, nor journey to the ends of the world to die and be reborn?”

“Maybe yes, but maybe no,” Caroline answered, moving around her store looking to check if he’d stolen anything, always keeping one eye on the man in her store.

“Don’t play games girl,” he growled.

“Girl, that’s rich, I was in my first thousand years when your people hadn’t yet learned how to make swords.” Caroline spun on him so quick he felt off kilter. In a thousand years he’d never met anything or one who made him feel weak. Her hair glowing an almost auburn kind of gold, the color of molten metal. “Either tell me what the great Hybrid wants with me or be gone!”

“Madam,” he cleared his throat. “I merely thought that us powerful creatures should get to know one another better.”

“Bullshit, those words might work with the witches, and fae queens you’re used to dealing with, but my magic is older than the magic of man and far less forgiving Niklaus Mikaelson,” Caroline felt her body aching to change and devour the abomination before her. Stealing the monster inside herself she remembered the teachings of her mother and her people.

“It’s actually my sister Rebekah, she’s been poisoned by something and withers away day by day, I was looking for you because Kol told us that only you could save her,” he relented, stepping back.

“You came to ask a favor, or did you think you could force my hand Niklaus Mikaelson?” she said, eyebrow arched as flame wings glinted behind her reflecting off the gold and silver pieces hanging around the store.

Klaus was at a loss for words, if this was her half transformed, with wings of flame, it belied a beautiful creature in her natural form. He could see shades of reds, blues, and yellows, rippling over her hair and through the flames behind her. “I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

“Bring me the thing you value most and I’ll give you the gift to save your sister,” she said, stalking forward and holding her hand out to him. Taking it, he hissed as the heat seared his palm. Pulling away he saw a scar on his palm in the shape of swirling smoke.

When he looked up, he was alone on the roof top of One Shell Square, alone. Spinning around he saw a faint sparkle of something flying off into the night sky a thousand yards away from him. Growling he flashed home to see how Rebekah was faring in his absence.

Two days passed and Klaus had not come back to her shop. She was calmer now, the heat of the rebirth finally worn off. Sighing she turned back to her styling and sculpting of the vial that she would use to hold her tears. A phenix’s tears gained their healing ability from the lost souls that they cried for. Crying allowed them to protect and preserve themselves and their flock outside of rebirth. Even if Klaus didn’t come back, she would leave the vial on Rebekah’s bedside. She need only drink the tears and all curses, maladies, and pain would leave her body.

Standing she walked to the garden outside her workroom, she knelt down and placed the vial at the center of the sundial design in the tile. Finally, she allowed herself to shift into her natural form. Deep red and yellow plumage spilled out as her bones thinned and shifted to become her real self. Shaking out her tail feathers, she let out a low mournful call, which startled every bird within a half mile out of their nests and into the sky.

Crying drops the color of molten gold, she angled her head so as the tears dripped down her face, they rolled off her beak and filled the vial below. She cried for all the women lost to anger, the children dead in the name of greed, and the loss of her family a millennium twice past. When the vial was full, and her heart felt as light as her bones she shook out her plumage and looked up into the sun which was highest in the sky.

“Thank you, father,” she silently prayed.

“Caroline?” he was here, curious she turned her head 180 degrees to look at him. Standing in the doorway of her work room was the hybrid empty handed. Cooing she looked at him eyes wide. Shifting back into her sun-dressed human form she shook off the few feathers that clung through the transformation. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a fairy princess transforming in a gust of wind and flame?”

“I tend to eat most beings who see me transform, so no,” Caroline said softly, looking up at him as she knelt to stopper the vial. “I believe the deal was what you value most, in exchange for your sisters cure.”

“I thought about this for two whole days Nix, and I couldn’t come up with anything,” he said slowly, “my sister actually figured it out first, you want me to give myself to you in exchange for her.”

“I wanted the offer, but I’ve never left a woman to suffer,” Caroline laughed, and tossed the vial to him.

“Dinner on the gulf?” he offered, snatching it deftly out of the air.

“Our pact is fulfilled,” she answered, walking over and leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly. “Don’t be late.”

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