#guess who figured out a myth for them
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#...hi#this is me exposing myself btw. it was probs obvious but ^_^#guess who figured out a myth for them#ANYWAYS. EXPLODES ABOUT THEM. THE MYTH I HAVE IN MY HEAD FOR THEM MAKES ME SO ILL#but ill probs write a proper fic to fully explain it so. be ready#lsshipping#mcytshipping#<- kinda. its one of those things where the modern concept of marriage is how We today would describe it in modern translations#but theyre a secret 3rd thing 2 me. close bond that doesn't need a label fr#anyways fic Eventually i have gathered enough dispair from aps to write something i think...! ^_^#anyways not maintagging this. casinoquartet nation this is a w for yall#no id
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☆ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE
percy jackson is a nuisance. a nuisance you have always been fond of, some way, somehow. (5.6k)
contains: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader. post tlo (spoilers). kind of melancholy but it gets better (kind of). book percy.
kashaf’s note: guess whos alive!
TO QUESTION, to ponder, to seek out the gods is sacrilegious. the gods preferred their divinity to be kept strictly within the confines of worship — whether by completing their ‘menial’ tasks or by committing sacrifices, they, in their infinite wisdom, are not allowed to be objected to.
“so, my mom’s a god? of love?”
you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, and mentally counted to three. opening your eyes, you make eye contact with the newest addition to camp, and your newest responsibility. bruised and scuffed, the poor kid blinks back at you confusedly as you mull your options. “yes, and no,” you decide.
“our mom’s a goddess, and love is just the most common of her jurisdictions.”
the new camper looks around the cabin, taking it in, you follow their gaze, lingering on the painted swans on the wall behind you, and bouncing to the pearls adorning the vanity, littered with various seashell trays holding gold jewelry (the first time you had entered these very walls, your throat had tightened at the pure ostentatiousness of it all).
they glance back at you, confused. you sighed again, “yes, our mom is the goddess of love.”
“oh.”
the candles residing in conches flicker as if waiting to pass judgment, and silence blankets you and the new camper once more (this is potentially your fiftieth time attempting to explain the same concept, yet you’re no better at it than when you first started — shaking and solemn).
needless to say, it’s more than just difficult to explain this tacit rule to new campers — after whatever tragic event transpired for them to realize that the greek gods of myth and legend indeed exist, they simply don’t have the mental capacity to learn the unspoken rules of the whole being a demigod thing.
you could be warmer, somehow, you suppose, with your mother being the goddess of love and all — in all honesty, you’re still not sure how you became the aphrodite cabin counselor, over selina (the entirety of camp half-blood’s favorite daughter of aphrodite) but the counselorship would have ended up in your hands anyway, after everything (the sight of her once-beautiful face as she coughed up blood in clarisse’s lap swims across your memories).
you pinched the bridge of your nose again, sighing as the candles snuffed out all at once of their own accord (judgment has been passed), “take the empty bed in the corner, we get up at like the ass crack of dawn so you might wanna catch up on your sleep.”
you watched the kid sit on the bed (looking every bit out of place as you did when you first arrived amidst the sheer indulgence the cabin is), and you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as the child (the entire camp is full of children, but the vast majority of you have never gotten the chance to be the children that you are) stared wide-eyed at posters of movie stars, like tristan mclean, adorning the walls.
with one last glance and forlorn smile at the kid, you walked out of your cabin, your expression hardening at the sight of other campers. the walk to the arena is a short yet bleak one, in the silence you can hear drew’s screaming ringing in your ear (drew is preferable to hearing your other half-siblings, ethan, or even luke; drew is alive).
in the middle of the sword-fighting lesson being taught, you slipped into the arena, undetected for the most part except for the pair of sea-green eyes trained on your figure as you came and stood next to him, clearly hanging back.
“this is usually your shit, jackson,” you say, ignoring how pitiful your racing heart is, and watching clarisse at the helm, steam blowing out of her ears as new campers fell over themselves trying to parry and block with wooden swords.
percy turns to look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you can sense the storm brewing across his face. “maybe i’m not the attention whore you think i am,” he snorts, and there is a small trace of bile in his voice, but you don’t focus on that.
instead, your face burns at the memory of your last argument after you dove in front of ethan’s knife (you still wince when you remember the way his visible eye widened when he realized it was you who caught the blow), and percy’s bitterness as will patched you up, what the fuck is wrong with you, you could’ve gotten yourself killed.
and your weak but indignant reply, i literally saved your life, asshole. are you that much of an attention-whore that you need to be the one on their deathbed right now?
“i’d say you kind of are,” you say, turning to meet his gaze (for a brief, stupid, second you wonder if somehow he was a son of zeus because of how the air suddenly became charged with electricity), arms folding across your chest. “the whole making the gods pay child support is a bit attention-whore-esque.”
percy laughed, a sound you and the other campers haven’t heard in a while (it’s different from before but it is still a sound that in your weaker moments, you admit to craving to hear). “someone had to do it,” he says, sobering up immediately.
“luke tried,” you whispered (the name is still taboo around camp), shivering as you felt percy stiffen beside you. a beat passes and the resulting silence is suffocating.
percy offers you a sad, tight smile before walking out of the arena. you watch him go with a strange pain in your chest and a longing for the before, the laughter leaping across the sun-drenched strawberry fields, the joking i told you so’s during meals, and the softness of the campfire sing-a-longs.
it’s hard not to blame the gods, for that is blasphemy, but on most nights, you find yourself uttering your mother’s name with a tangible acidity, and you find that you’re not alone in this sentiment. the once-reverent echoes of aphrodite, promise me true love, promise me victory, promise me beauty, have now faded to lifeless whispers — formalities instead of prayers.
even your own prayers are different now, you pray for the sea — if your mother is allowed to be ambiguous with her gifts (curses) then she must expect the same ambiguity in your prayers in return. when you’re done half-heartedly muttering your prayers and sacrificing your food, your gaze meets a familiar pair of sea-green eyes across the campfire, glowing like a beacon in the dark.
standing up, you find drew, looking every bit as perfect as ever. you lean down to whisper, “lights out at eleven, i’ll be back.”
drew nods, squeezing your hand before she begins herding the rest of your half-siblings back to your cabin, solemn and toneless (an empty shell compared to the once vibrant and snarky drew from before).
the walk to the beach is silent, although you know that you’re being followed — you didn’t survive the war being complacent. when you finally do arrive, the mysterious figure reveals himself in the moonlight (again, you’d be a fool to not recognize the son of poseidon’s careful footsteps).
percy looks every bit of a character straight out of a tragic romance novel that your mother probably inspired, and again your heart squeezes painfully at the sight of him — under the scars and the jaded attitude, he is still the same percy jackson with stars in his eyes when he first introduced you to his mother.
“why do the naiads call you that?” percy asks abruptly, tilting his head to the side as if studying you as he approaches.
barely audible accusations of apatu’ria bubble at the surface of the lake like seafoam; the whispers have followed you since you arrived at camp, and you have never known why.
“call me what?” you ask, feigning ignorance as iterations of deceitful replay across your mind.
percy blinks, confused, “isn’t your mother related to the sea somehow? don’t you know they call you apatu’ria?”
you fiddle with the gold bracelet on your wrist (a gift from selina), percy’s gaze follows the movement as you hesitate. “well, yeah, like i know what it means but i don’t know why they call me that.”
percy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “they call me ‘prosklystios’ a lot,” he said (in the way that he knows you, better than you know yourself).
“so what, we’re just reduced to epithets of our parents? what an honor,” you mumbled sarcastically, staring out at the lake, watching its surface ripple as the accusations grew more fervent. you paid it no mind however, the burden of being a daughter of aphrodite had already claimed its weight on your shoulders.
“careful,” percy sighed, his gaze focusing on you instead of the water, “might’ve just won a war but that won’t stop either of us from being smited if big guy in the sky thinks we’re being impertinent.”
distant thunder rumbled overhead as if proving his point.
“speak for yourself, pretty boy,” you say, eyes looking toward the firmament littered with stars, incognizant of your admission, “if i got the gods to basically pay child support without being sent to tartarus, i would do whatever the fuck i wanted.”
percy being percy, of course, did not register that last bit of your sentence, a shit-eating grin forming across his face, a slight red hue tinging his cheeks, “you think i’m pretty.”
you turn to look at him, ignoring how your heart hammers at the way he’s smiling down at you, you roll your eyes. “percy,” you say slowly. “my mom is the goddess of love, everyone’s gorgeous in her eyes.”
“yeah, but not everyone’s gorgeous in your eyes.”
gods, he was so aggravating but the way his eyes twinkled and the genuine elation on his face almost made you admit defeat.
you crossed your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him, “this is why i never compliment you, you always let it go to your head.”
“aw, c’mon, you love me for it though,” percy says, still grinning widely, his unruly black hair falling into place perfectly.
“you’re an actual attention-whore,” you say, spinning around on your heels and trekking across the sand, leaving percy alone to stare out at the water. you walk back to camp, ignoring percy’s calls of wait punctuated by his laughter as he jogs up behind you.
“i hope mr. d catches you out past curfew and the harpies eat you,” you say deadpan, once percy has caught up to you.
“you’d miss me too much and would come to be my hero, again,” percy smirks at you, following along as you head toward aphrodite cabin (you’re secretly very glad for his presence, you hate walking around camp when it’s this deserted — the memories that you tried so desperately to bury try to claw their way to the surface).
“just because i caught a knife for you, once, does not mean that i’ll ever do it again,” you say, folding your arms across your chest as you stand outside the door of your cabin. “getting stabbed is not a ten out of ten experience.”
percy softens, his impish grin still there, but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make you melt, “good, can’t have you dying on me.”
you snorted, “even if i did die, i’d tell nico to raise my ghost so i could haunt you forever.”
percy’s still smiling, his eyes are still soft, and he’s so close to you right now. “go out with me,” he says, suddenly, earnestly.
blood rushes to your ears. “what?” you blinked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.
percy shrugged, leaning forward to press a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head. you barely registered the action in your mind, trying to regain your ability to form coherent sentences as you watched him. percy looked away from your questioning gaze. “better go before the harpies eat me,” he said before jogging in the direction of his cabin.
he leaves you standing in front of your cabin door, frozen in shock for another five minutes, before you shake it off, and head inside, convincing yourself that you had imagined the entire encounter. the familiar scent of jasmine envelops you as you linger in the doorway. drew is still awake on her bed, her back pressed against the wall and her head in her arms. she doesn’t bother to look up at your entry until you’re sat next to her, curling an arm around her bony shoulders and pulling her into an embrace.
the two of you sit in silence as drew attempts to calm her heartbeats to sync with yours, her head resting on your shoulder as you rub soothing circles into the planes of her shoulder. you fall asleep in a tangled mess of limbs, a desperate attempt to close the gaping hole selina left in her wake. this is sisterhood, you think when you wake up and drew’s head weighs like lead on your shoulder.
the bright morning does little to assuage your burdens — you know it’s going to be a long day as soon as you hear campers giggling. rule number one of being a camp counselor: no matter how benign, giggling is the number one sign of trouble.
you took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before turning to the younger half of your half-siblings currently in the process of attempting arts and crafts. “what the fuck do you guys keep giggling about?”
your half-siblings only giggle harder.
after what seemed like eons, the new camper finally comes up to you — a kid no older than eight, who motions for you to bend down before they begin stage-whispering in your ear, “is percy jackson your boyfriend?”
you immediately feel scandalized, jerking away like you’ve been burned, “no, who said that?”
(when you’re being lulled to sleep by the sound of drew’s imperceptible snoring in your ear, your subconscious spends its time lingering, dwelling on could’ve been’s, and should’ve been’s, the obsession as stubborn as when you refused to believe that percy had actually died on mount st helens.)
the kid continues to smile ‘innocently’, “everyone says that you guys hold hands at campfires.”
sudden flashes of percy’s unyielding grip on your hand and his broad smile, as he forced you into a sing-a-long with him, rise to the forefront of your mind, but that was before — when annabeth still had a steely look in her eyes, when travis and connor’s antics still garnered laughs from everyone (and a rare amused glance from mr. d). now (the after), there is no such jocularity, and percy is kept at arm’s length, reduced to offering you sad smiles across the campfire.
“we do not hold hands at campfires,” you say, struggling to keep the disdain out of your voice.
“but there’s a ‘we’,” the kid says, scrutinizing you up and down.
you have to mentally count to three so that you don’t end up arguing with a literal child (it’s not a great way to prove that your sanctity is still intact). “there’s no we.”
the kid shrugs in an if you say so gesture, giving you one last weirdly knowing look before turning back to their arts and crafts. a weighty silence settles, punctuated only by the sounds of scissors and rustling papers.
stares and loud whispers follow you around camp, more so than usual for an aphrodite kid — clarisse finds you in the midst of it all, lost in thought when her cabin is supposed to be pulverizing apollo cabin at volleyball, a sharp glint in her eye.
“you’d tell if me you were dating prissy, right?” she says, her hand faintly closing around your elbow, pulling you out of your reverie.
“what are you talking about?” you say, eyebrows raising in shock. this wasn’t your first rodeo — just before the war this summer, camp gossip had credited you to be going out with connor stoll, but this was different. clarisse was the fifth person today who had asked you if you were dating percy.
“so you are dating him?” clarisse looks offended, or well, as offended as clarisse can be, “and you didn’t tell me.”
you can feel eyes on you, watching your every move as other campers subtly pause their activities to listen in.
“clarisse,” you say slowly, reaching out to hold her forearms and looking her in the eye, “i’m not dating percy.” when she opens her mouth to interrupt, you add, “and i would definitely tell you if i was.”
clarisse exhales, shooting you a disbelieving look, but mercifully leaving you alone with a quiet, “okay.”
you know what she’s thinking, so you offer her a taut smile, patting her on her shoulder as you brush past her. you headed toward the lake, with a feeling that you’d find the answers you were searching for.
the lake is empty except for one solitary figure on the sand, facing the horizon with his hands in his pockets. you hang back for a minute or two, taking in the sight of percy with his eyes closed, and the peaceful look on his face.
a grin settled across his face as he addressed you, his eyes still closed, “i know you think i’m pretty, you don’t have to stare to prove it.”
you ignored his words, and he opened his eyes to watch you angrily march across the sand to stand face to face with him.
“are you the reason why everyone thinks we’re seeing each other?”
“yeah, why?”
to say that you’re taken aback is an understatement — you had anticipated some more denial but this was unexpected. and sudden.
you jab a finger at his chest, “everyone’s getting the wrong idea, so you need to stop whatever it is you’re doing like right now.”
“but they could have the right idea,” percy says, looking amused.
your heart scrapes painfully against your chest, “what the fuck are you talking about?”
“we could be dating, forreal,” percy says, excruciatingly slow, elongating each word.
the earth stops spinning on its axis for a minute, and time seems to freeze — for a split second you worry kronos has risen again before you calm your racing heartbeat and exhale slowly.
“i need you to be so forreal right now,” you say, your eyebrows furrowing.
“i’m being so deadass right now.”
“no, you’re not,” you say, turning and walking away. your heart squeezes pitifully in your chest, as you call out, “find me when you stop joking,” before leaving him alone on the shore.
when percy approaches you again, you think he’s finally come back to his senses, though a weaker, more primitive urge inside you hopes that he hasn’t (it’s for the better, you try and fail to convince yourself).
he interrupts your conversation with drew (though the two of you weren’t doing much talking), smiling charmingly at her before asking if he could steal you away for a minute during breakfast. drew shot you a concerned look, waiting for your reassuring smile before assenting.
“you’ve come to your senses?” you ask after percy leads you away from the mess hall.
“i’ve always had my senses, thank you very much,” percy grins.
you roll your eyes, trying not to smile, “oh yeah, i could totally tell when you played rock, paper, scissors with a hundred-handed one last summer.”
“hey,” percy says, throwing his hands up in the air defensively, “i won that one.”
“on a gamble,” you countered, smiling (you missed this, missed him, and the feeling that everything will be alright enduring).
“not the point.”
“then what is?”
“go out with me,” he repeats, sudden, and earnest.
your heart stuttered pitifully. “not this again,” you sighed.
“why not?”
“why?”
“you know why,” percy tries to make eye contact with you. still, you avoid his gaze, watching the other campers heading into the mess hall give the two of you weird looks.
“no, i don’t,” you say firmly, before walking away, ignoring his protests, leaving behind a group of onlookers that you could care less about, and percy, who was staring at the spot you had just been standing in.
you returned to your cabin, to the familiar jasmine scent and pearl adornments, and promptly collapsed on your bed. more than anything, you just wanted your mother. you wanted your mother to smooth out your hair as you cried, offer you advice, and get rid of the stupid curse.
the door opens quietly and you immediately sit up, dabbing at your face and hoping that your eyes haven’t turned red and swollen already. drew shut the door gently behind her, her expression softening the slightest fraction at the sight of you.
“do i look that bad?” you ask, trying not to sniffle (and failing miserably).
a whirlwind of emotions cross drew’s face and you manage a watery grin. “okay, y’know what, don’t tell me then.”
drew sits next to you on the bed, handing you a box of tissues, “wasn’t planning to.”
the two of you sit shoulder to shoulder as she lets you have a minute to clean up before going straight for the jugular. “i heard what happened.”
you laughed, a choking noise that dissolved into weak coughing. drew patted your back. “so, the entire camp knows now?”
“no,” she says, before changing her mind, “well, yeah.”
“great,” you groaned, “my life is so over.”
drew tensed, tearing her gaze from the posters of hot people on the wall, to look at you, her brown eyes ablaze with fury and her silver earrings (also a gift from silena) jangle, “shut up, you’re the senior counselor of aphrodite cabin, and they’re all losers unworthy of your time. your life so isn’t over.”
(this is the drew from before, the drew that comes and goes in flashes so sudden that you try to piece her together like a puzzle that never seems to connect.)
“the curse,” you say, your throat tight.
drew’s eyes widen imperceptibly, her blue eyeshadow sparkling in the candlelit cabin, before her expression settles into a scowl. “what about the gift?” her voice sharpens as she stresses the last word, sparing the smallest glance toward the roof of the cabin.
you can’t continue, and you don’t have to — she knows what it is that you’re thinking of (she always has, from the minute you met her, two cold and shaking children alone in the dark).
she shakes her head emphatically. “silena,” her voice chokes, before dropping to a whisper, “silena left us — you can’t leave us too.”
“i know,” you whisper back, your eyes filling with tears. “i know.”
“oh, honey,” drew says sympathetically, drawing you into her arms, and smoothing your hair away from your face as you let out a sob against her shoulder. “break his heart,” she says.
“i can’t,” you mumble.
“you have to. he’ll die if you don’t, and a broken heart is better than dying.”
“i can’t do that to him, he’s so unbelievably good, drew, he deserves everything and more.”
“ignoring how ridiculously sappy that sounded, look at what happened to beckendorf,” you pretend not to notice how drew stumbles through his name (he looked at silena as if she had personally hung the stars in the night sky), “maybe he wouldn’t have gotten over it, but he would’ve been alive.”
you remember how silena had proudly said she was going to put an end to the archaic rite of passage your cabin was infamous for around camp; beautiful, idealistic silena with stars in her eyes (who liked beckendorf to the point she’d blush profusely at the mention of his name), who had no idea that this would all come crashing down around her some short months later.
at your silence, drew continues, still stroking your hair, “look, not to make this harder, but even i’ll admit jackson’s one of those guys you meet once in a lifetime—”
“thanks, drew, that was really helpful,” you interrupt, chuckling dryly.
“oh, shut up, i had a point,” drew says, swatting your shoulder playfully.
you sigh, letting her continue.
“so, like i was saying before i was so rudely interrupted, because jackson’s one of those once-in-a-lifetime type of guys—” here, you coughed pointedly, making drew glare at you before continuing, “—you should be like more willing to see him happy and like living a long ass life because you’re so in love with him.”
“so what, either i reject him and ruin our friendship irreversibly or we date and i break his heart and ruin our friendship irreversibly, or we date and i don’t break his heart and he dies tragically and there’s a possibility that i die tragically too?”
drew shrugged, making a tiny braid in your hair, “pretty much.”
you turned your head in her lap to look her in the eye, “how are you so apathetic about this?”
“someone has to be because you’re not thinking this through rationally.”
you groaned, “aphrodite has to hate us.” (you haven’t called her ‘mom’ genuinely except to her face during the winter solstices.)
“no, she lives for this kind of thing,” drew rolled her eyes, braiding another piece of your hair, “she definitely thinks she’s doing us a favor.”
you groaned again, “what if i just avoid him until summer ends and he goes back to school and forgets this happened.”
“i didn’t think love made you this stupid,” drew says, amused.
“shut up, i can’t wait until you have the same dilemma, and you’re the one asking for advice.”
“doubt it,” drew says, wryly.
you rolled your eyes, “okay, but what if i tell him about the ‘gift’,” you make air-quotes, “and let him decide?”
“yeah, but what if that just makes it backfire and makes you die tragically either way.”
“well, at least he’ll know about the possibility? it’s better than just being like ‘oh i can’t date you even though i’ve liked you since i was twelve’ with like zero explanation whatsoever.”
you hear muffled footsteps coming from outside of the cabin, and the door swings open loudly to admit lacy, who looks flustered and out of breath. you and drew quickly sprang up off your bed at her arrival.
“your boyfriend’s asking for you,” she says, looking at you.
drew raises her eyebrows at you, an unspoken are you going to see him? behind it.
you furrowed your eyebrows back at her, conveying no, shut up.
drew shrugged at you as if saying if you say so.
lacy looks between the two of you, confusion apparent before cautiously interrupting, “he’s waiting outside, by the way.”
you panicked at the thought of possibly confronting percy, “lacy, whatever you do, don’t tell him i’m in here.” you paused, “wait, tell him i’m taking a nap or something, please.”
more shuffling noises can be heard from outside, and drew groans, smacking her forehead with her palm, “what is wrong with you?”
you ignored her, focusing on lacy, whose confusion intensified as she looked between the two of you. “tell him i’m sleeping and he should try coming back later.”
she nodded, before opening the door and stepping outside.
drew stared at you, “y’know, i thought people were exaggerating when they said love makes you stupid but after looking at you, they were so right.”
you scowled at drew. she raised her arms in surrender, “just calling it like i see it.”
lacy returned a second later, “um, he wasn’t outside when i went to tell him.”
that was decidedly odd, but you chalked it up to him being busy or something, and shrugged, “i’ll see him later, it’s fine.”
it was actually not fine, because you didn’t see him later. or the next day. or the day after. well, you saw him but you didn’t see him. percy had somehow uncovered a hidden talent for making himself appear everywhere and nowhere all at once. he was there at meals, laughing with tyson or grover, he was at sword fighting practices, leading the class or giving clarisse a partner, he was at campfires, sitting next to annabeth and connor. yet, the minute you tried to approach him, it was almost as if he’d vanish, like an immortal was running interference.
you’ve taken to wandering by the lake on most nights — your only company the voices of silena (go talk to him, her urging is as present as if she was really there, memories of the time the two of you hadn’t been talking for a week resurging) and luke (what’re you doing out this late, kid? a phantom hand reaching out to ruffle your hair, and the feeling of ice being poured down your back envelops you).
as the sun sets, the tall and lanky figure — a figure you could recognize on the darkest nights — stands overlooking the lake in true jay gatsby fashion, his hands dug deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. you stop and stare for a second (maybe a minute, an hour, time has truly escaped you), and suddenly you’re small and shivering in the dark again.
percy doesn’t look at you when you approach, though he fidgets with his camp necklace.
“hi,” you say, unsure of where to begin.
percy sighs, “look, if you’re here to ask for space, i get it, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day.” he doesn’t turn to look at you or even glance at you through the corner of his eye once.
“what?” you ask. “what are you talking about?”
“trust me, i get it, you don’t have to try to spare my feelings,” percy says. you want to will him to spare you just a glance. still, he avoids your gaze, focused on the horizon before you. “we’ve been friends for so long, i thought you could be honest with me.”
his words, though not said harshly (percy isn’t capable of being harsh, not to you at least) cut through you like a knife.
“you heard me when i was talking to lacy, then,” you say, with horror as the realization dawns on you slowly.
percy finally looks at you, and the sheer hurt in his iridescent eyes makes you inhale sharply. a lump forms in your throat.
“i did,” he confirms quietly. “why didn’t you say something earlier?”
fighting in a war hadn’t prepared you for man’s greatest folly, something that you, arguably, should’ve been good at. the lump in your throat is difficult to dislodge, yet percy is patient as you swallow uncomfortably.
“i never meant it like that.”
percy’s eyes flash, and you feel sick to your stomach. “have you ever wondered why so many of the other cabins hate us?”
his previously pained expression morphed into a look of confusion. you continued, “in aphrodite cabin, our rite of passage is to break your first love’s heart. silena—” your voice breaks. “—silena tried to put an end to it, and then both she and beckendorf—” you choke up again, and percy’s expression becomes solemn, “died tragically. we didn’t know the consequences of not doing it were real until then, and we realized it was a curse.”
you watch percy seemingly wrestle with his thoughts, taking a step toward you.
“why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” there is no judgment in his voice, yet you still feel embarrassment pooling in your stomach.
“can you honestly tell me that you’re okay with this? with the gods dictating another aspect of your life?” (somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear luke’s voice repeating the same sentence.)
“you didn’t ask for this either.”
“it’s not our job to question them,” you say, trying not to let a tear slip.
“maybe we should,” percy says, still looking straight at you.
“careful,” you say, as thunder rumbled distantly overhead, “this is what luke was saying.”
“i don’t care,” percy says, “if you or i die a tragic death, we’ll just have to go through tartarus.”
he said it so simply, so matter-of-factly that your breath catches in your throat.
“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, trying to suppress the tinge of hopefulness in your voice.
percy looked at you in disbelief, his face was so earnest, “why wouldn’t i be?”
you laughed, more out of shock than anything else. percy continued, “i think your mother would think we’d make a cute couple, so maybe she won’t curse us with a tragic end.”
you’re grinning now, tears forgotten, “more like she’ll give us a tragic end because she likes us.”
percy shrugged, “i think we’ll be fine as long as we’re together.”
he kissed you, finally, which was long over-due, and you felt like everything was finally falling into place.
“took you guys long enough.”
you turned around to find the source of the interruption, making eye-contact with clarisse, her arms folded and a smug expression on her face. beside her stands most of your friends, all adorning matching wicked expressions. your heart stops beating for a second before your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“how much of that did you guys hear?” percy asked, suddenly looking bashful.
“most of it,” drew replied with a smirk.
percy looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face as your friends surrounded the both of you, hoisting you on their shoulders.
“maybe the two of you need to cool off,” annabeth said with a laugh.
connor grinned at her, before calling out, “dump them in the lake!”
you groaned, begging, “annabeth, please.”
“this is payback for all the pining i had to witness over the years,” she said with a laugh.
percy shrugged at you, a grin on his face as if saying accept your fate. you gave in, shaking your head as you laughed at their antics.
#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#percy jackson imagines#percy jackson fluff#percy jackson and the olympians#woc friendly#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x yn#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson oneshot#percy jackson one-shot#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson series#percy jackson x fem! reader#percy jackson oneshots#kashaf ki likhai
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The real-world impact of Lore Olympus
i.e. do your research Rachel
Trigger warning: racism, fetishization, appropriation, mentions of SA
Long post ahead
A while ago, someone told me that Lore Olympus was just a silly little comic written out of boredom. That it was made to be "funny". They told me that "[I] can't hope [for] an extremely [well-written] story when it was just made with the intention to make something goofy" and that if Rachel actually wanted to make something serious like I had, she would write a book and not a comic.
At the time of this exchange, it was past 1 a.m. and I was exhausted. I did not want to argue with this person and it simply wasn't worth my time or energy in the moment.
But looking back at that (mostly one-sided) interaction, I can't help but think that there is so much wrong with that point of view. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion about Lore Olympus, whether good or bad. But Lore Olympus isn't just some silly little nothing comic about nothing important. It is a comic that actively appropriates and erases Greek Culture. It is a comic that has no respect for the actual stories that have been passed down over thousands of years whether by word of mouth or written text. It is a comic that perpetuates a false narrative and harmful stereotypes about characters or certain groups of people. So, no, it's not just a silly little comic.
Incorrect information
Here’s an example of what I mean:
When I was doing research for my post about the 10 year time skip, I looked up Leuce to reconfirm the little information I knew about her. Wanna guess the first thing that popped up about her?
A Lore Olympus Wiki article.
Okay. How about Minthe? Hundreds of pictures of her from Lore Olympus and a LO Wiki article as one of the top 3 results. Both character are horribly represented in LO and unfortunately there isn’t really any documented stories or records that can refute how LO paints them. Because of this, other characters in Greek Mythology like Leuce and Minthe, whose stories have little to no documentation, stand to suffer the most harm from deliberate misrepresentation on Rachel’s part.
Of course well-known and better documented figures in Greek mythology face slander as well. What about Thetis or Leto? How about Apollo? All of their portrayals in LO are HORRIBLE. I have seen people online absolutely drag them to filth not because they're upset about how the character is portrayed compared to their mythological counterpart, but because they have no knowledge of how they are actually portrayed outside of LO. They just assume that's how the characters are. Similarly, people who have either very little or no prior knowledge of Greek Mythology and Culture would look at the comic and go "Yep, sounds legit. It must be true." and go about thinking that what is portrayed in LO is accurate to what was transcribed thousands of years ago.
Creative interpretations and racism/fetishization within LO
Don’t get me wrong. Creative interpretations and artistic liberties can be great. When they’re done tastefully. I personally think if done correctly, a Greek myth spun in a modern way has the potential be very good. But that's not what we were given.
Characters like Minthe, Leuce, and Thetis (all nymphs btw) are portrayed as trashy tramps who put out and are used as a foil sabotage Persephone and/or her relationship with Hades. Compare that to Greek Mythology where in the Iliad, Thetis is very well-respected by the gods, particularly Hera. Unfortunately, other similar characters like satrys (and basically any character that isn’t a god) are usually portrayed as a low-class POC that can be easily exploited, manipulated, or used as a temporary villain/lover/pawn to “get back” at Persephone, our white-coded protagonist who can do no wrong.
Additionally, there is a clear race/class bias against characters like nymphs in LO. We see many cases scattered throughout the comic of gods like Hera or Aphrodite referring to nymphs as "trash" or "low class" or the idea that nymphs do not belong with gods being heavily implied if not outright said. I cannot tell you how often I've seen Minthe be called some variant of "cheap" by the readers of LO. Even Persephone (who created the flower nymphs) treats them with such disrespect. She frequently calls them some variant of "stupid" or "simple" like saying how they're not the sharpest crayons in the box even though she's the one WHO MADE THEM. However, it's so odd not really to note that nymphs like Echo, Amphitrite, or Psyche (who was previously disguised as a nymph) are not discriminated against. This is because they are liked or trusted by the gods they are around and ergo are often portrayed as the "good ones", which is a disgusting mindset to have.
We also see the fetishization of nymphs in the comic that is disturbingly similar to the fetishization of women who are Black, Asian, or Latina. It is a known fact that Hades has a flower nymph fetish. Not only is this implied in the comic, but Rachel stated it outright in an old Patreon post. Nymphs are also generally treated as sex-symbols, disposable, and as a lesser-than. Zeus frequently displays this behavior by abandoning nymphs he knocked up in the mortal realm.
For example, when Persephone finds out Apollo is dating Daphne, she isn't upset he's dating her friend. She's upset he's dating a flower nymph, beings that are generally considered to be "rare", "dumb", and objects of sexual desire. Ew.
Even on the Lore Olympus website (loreolympians.com) nymphs are regarded as "beautiful", "desirable", and "very exotic". And when they're not described in a sexual manner they're say it with me now regarded as "low class" or "workers" for some kind of god/goddess.
Final thoughts
So not only is the characterization of characters like Minthe or Thetis harmful to Greek culture and the stories that are so ingrained in their society, but it is also perpetuating harmful stereotypes about people of color and women who are confident in their sexuality.
Of course, the characters within Greek Mythology had their own issues. Zeus was a serial rapist, many of the goddesses deemed to be "feminist" by today's standards were actually horribly misogynistic looking at you Athena. But 1. that's just how things were back then (but that does not make it right) and 2. all of the good, the bad, and the ugly is still there in Greek Mythology. They're not denying how fucked up it is, but they're also not changing their history to better fit their own narrative or the narrative of the modern world. It exists, it happened, but now it is studied and called out by historians.
Rachel, on the other hand, is doing exactly that. She is actively changing the Greek's cultural history to better fit her fic's narrative. She is constantly sweeping things under the rug or going "No this is how it ACTUALLY happened". Lore Olympus is marketed as a "feminist retelling" yet somehow, it takes allllll the ugly parts from Greek Mythology (rape, incest, problematic age gaps, dubious consent, etc.), mixes it with a majority of the issues we have in the modern world (white feminism, rape-apologists/rape culture, grooming, fetishization of certain minority groups, etc.) and then amplifies the concoction to 20. Lore Olympus cannot be a "progressive, feminist, retelling" and also have characters that are morally apprehensive/come straight from the ancient myths. It does not work. In fact, IMO it makes all the problems from both eras worse.
News flash: actual cultures that are still thriving today are not your toys. They are not "made up". They matter. Do better.
#anti lore olympus#lore olympus#anti lo persephone#anti lo#lore olympus criticism#lore olympus critical#lo critic#lo critical#unpopular lo#unpopular lore olympus#appropriation#greek mythology#if anyone who is actually Greek wants to comment on this or share their thoughts please feel free#I'm not Greek but I have a deep love for mythology/Greek culture so this is just my take on things
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Guess You Really Did It This Time (Part 2 of Heartbroke Bitch)
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Ex!Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader
TW:ANGST, honestly I think thats it?
Summary: Rafe confronts you after you sleep over at his house, but it goes so much worse than he imagined.
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: This was supposed to end fluffy, but It wasnt realistic so it'll be a three parter (maybe 4? who knows.)
You blink a few times as your vision adjusts to the blinding sun rays pouring through the curtains directly into your eyes. Your throat is hoarse as you groan; this is the worst comedown you've experienced so far.
It takes a second for you to place your surroundings, and the events of last night come rushing back when you do. The bed is empty and you hear the shower running, a hushed "thank you" falling from your mouth.
You take the opportunity gratefully, hastily ripping off Rafe's sweatshirt and squeezing back into your dress. Your phone and bag are on the nightstand, and you grab them before turning the handle to his room as quietly as you can.
You've never been so happy to be familiar with the layout of Tannyhill as you creep down the stairs and toward the front door.
You freeze when you register Rose staring at you with a knowing look. Your hand lifts with a short wave and you let yourself out before she can start asking questions.
You pull out your phone and call JJ, aware that he's the least likely to judge you. He is your best friend after all.
It only rings once before the blonde's voice rings out and you breathe a sigh of relief.
"Well, well, well. If it's not the woman, the myth, the le-"
You cut him off, not in the mood as you fight a violent case of the spins and try to keep from dry heaving.
"Shut it, JJ. Can you come get me? I'm at -"
This time he cuts you off and your eyebrows pinch together.
"Yeah, I know where you are Y/N/N. Give me five."
With that he hangs up, leaving you with more questions than you originally had. Number one being how the hell does he know where you are?
You don't even have your shoes but you can't bring yourself to care as you bolt down the yard and start your trek into town.
You know JJ will find you and the last thing you want is to be caught waiting by Rafe.
A few short minutes later you hear the dirt bike and stop in your tracks. You turn so your body is facing JJ and you give him a disheartened look.
"You have to be fucking kidding. JJ I'm wearing a dress and I'm three seconds from puking!" You complain and he gives a boyish smile while reaching into his backpack.
"That's why I brought these," he answers while offering you a pair of his sweatpants. You take them hesitantly and slip them on as he continues.
"As for puking, at least you don't have to worry about it getting in a car."
You groan as you kick a leg over his bike, careful to keep your bare feet away from the hot exhaust and wrap your arms around his torso.
"I literally hate you."
He chuckles as he revs the engine and twists to look back at you.
"Love you too."
Back at Tannyhill, Rafe's heart drops when he comes out of the bathroom to an empty bed. His hoodie is crumpled on the floor and he sighs.
He gets dressed quickly and bolts down the stairs, praying you're just getting something to eat the way you normally would.
When he finds the kitchen empty, his eyes flutter shut as familiar loneliness overtakes him. His thoughts are interrupted by Rose clearing her throat.
"She left a little while ago. Before you ask; no she didn't say anything."
He nods while grabbing his keys and your shoes before racing toward his truck. He already knows where you'll be.
The ride back has you clutching your pearls, literally and figuratively, as you barely keep consciousness.
Your headache has escalated to a migraine by the time you reach the chateau and you're pretty sure you could drink one of the Great Lakes all on your own.
You ignore the rest of the group teasing as you stumble inside, rummaging for some painkillers. You find them quickly and pour a handful into your mouth, not caring enough to check the dosage.
It can't be any more dangerous than what you've been doing anyway. You don't even bother with a cup, and JJ tsks behind you as you put your head in the sink and gulp water straight from the faucet.
"This is the most chaotic thing I've ever seen, and that's saying something. You're like a feral dehydrated animal."
Your only response is a middle finger as you pass him, clambering your way into the guest room you've claimed as yours.
Your familial situation is pretty similar to JJ's, without the violence, and up until the breakup you'd stayed with Rafe.
Now all your belongings are littered around the chateau. You grab a shirt and change quickly, paying no mind to your best friend, before plopping down on top of the comforter.
"How'd you know I was at Rafes?"
Jj rubs the back of his neck as you look up at him expectantly, already knowing you won't like the answer.
"He texted Sarah a picture of you sleeping on him when she asked him if he'd heard from you."
You take in his words and scoff in disbelief.
"Of course he did."
You collapse onto your front with your head buried into a pillow, craving relief from the ache in your body. JJ sits next to you and rubs your neck to ease your migraine, and you let out a content moan.
It's not even an hour before you hear a car pull up outside and you release a whine. You already know who it is, and you're decidedly not in the mood to deal with it.
JJ feels you tense under his large hand and sighs.
"Want me to get rid of him?"
You shake your head as you sit up and run a hand down your face.
"He'll just keep coming back. Might as well rip off the Bandaid."
He kisses the top of your head and stands, sending a sharp glare at your ex when he passes him in the hallway.
Rafe assumes that JJ left the room you're in and knocks on the door frame before stepping past the threshold.
His eyes take in the mess before landing on your tired figure. You look like hell with sunken bloodshot eyes and clammy skin.
He holds your shoes up to show you he brought them back before dropping them in the pile of other heels on the ground.
His brows furrow as he turns to you, taken aback at your sudden collection of designer items.
"You didn't have any of this when we were together. Where'd the sudden influx of Louboutin and high-end fashion come from?"
You stare at him blankly for a second before shrugging.
"Does it matter?"
He runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of his stress, as he takes in your defensive tone.
"I'm just curious."
He doesn't like the way your lips curl up into a vicious smile as if you take pleasure in the answer you're about to give.
"Gifts from my male suitors."
You don't give him time to respond before brushing past him and walking straight out of the chateau. He heaves an irritated breath when you let the screen door slam in his face and wrenches it back open.
He follows hot on your tail as the rest of the group watches the impending WWE smackdown.
"Come on, baby. I just want to talk."
You let out a loud laugh while continuing on your path and he hates how indifferent you're acting.
"You can talk all you want, but no promise I'll listen. And don't call me that."
You pretend not to notice your friends wince at your snarky reply in your peripheral as they try - and fail- to act like they aren't eavesdropping.
"So that's it? You don't want anything to do with me? What the hell was all that last night, then?" He shouts and you stop abruptly, causing him to slam into your back.
"A lapse in judgment."
He scoffs and you close your eyes, trying desperately not to let him get a rise out of you.
"Seems like you've been having a lot of those lately."
At that, you whip around on your heel, your hair smacking him in the face with the ferocity of your movement. He's got an arrogant smirk painted on his lips and your eyes narrow.
"I wasn't doing anything you weren't! If memory serves me, you're the one that walked out! Not me!"
Your voice is shrill as you scream in his face, tears starting to pour as you shove him back. All the pent-up hurt and rage are finally rearing their ugly heads, and it only makes you angrier. JJ moves to intervene, but John B stops him with a hand on his forearm.
"No, let them get this out. She's only going to continue on her bender if they don't resolve this."
JJ looks to Sarah for help but she only nods, agreeing with her boyfriend. The blonde sits back down with a huff, clearly unhappy at the situation unfolding in front of him.
Rafe shakes his head with flared nostrils, and it brings you a tinge of happiness to see him as upset as you. His chest is heaving as crimson crawls up his neck and cheeks.
"Because I was scared, not because I don't love you!"
As soon as the words leave his mouth, his eyes go wide and your mouth drops open in shock. You vaguely register Sarah gasp off to the side, and if you looked, you're sure you would find JJ with his jaw clenched hard enough to break teeth.
"Oh fuck off Rafe, what is that supposed to mean? You toss me aside like trash and then come back a month later to confess your love? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Your voice is significantly quieter now, your face scrunched up into a deep scowl.
"Y/N, even if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to me again, I need you to know the truth. The past month has been miserable and I hate what I did to you. I'm not judging you for how you handled it, I have no right."
You interrupt him with a scoff and stick a hip out.
"No, you don't."
He gives you a pointed look before continuing and you take a deep breath.
"I didn't leave because I don't love you, or because you're a pogue, or whatever else you might believe. I left because I do love you, though I didn't realize it at the time. Y/N, I'm fucked up. Like, something isn't right in my head. I didn't want to keep hurting you over and over, so I thought I'd let you move on and be happy with someone else."
You mull over his words and run a hand through your messy hair.
"I know."
Confusion washes over him and you rub your temples.
"I know you're fucked up, Rafe. I know everything, we were together for a year. But that doesn't mean you get to make the choice for me. I know you don't believe you're worthy of love, I get it. I've been in love with you since Midsummers, but I'm not going to stand here and beg you to let me in."
You wipe aggressively at the tears that are now rapidly cascading down your cheeks and off your face, ready to be done with this.
"I'm not asking you to do that. If anything, I'm begging for you to let me in. Please, I can't stand the thought of you out here putting yourself in harm's way. I haven't been with anyone else, and I don't want to be."
The rest of the group might as well have popcorn as their eyes dart back and forth between the two of you, unable to look away.
"No, Rafe. You're lying. I saw you that night with Missy!"
Everyone's head turns to look back at Rafe to gauge his reaction to your outburst.
"Yikes, not looking good for him." John B remarks and Sarah kicks his leg.
"Shut up, maybe there's an explanation."
John B is about to argue when Kie glares at them.
"Shut the fuck up, I can't hear!"
Rafe shakes his head, his hands coming up to cover his mouth before they drop back down to his sides. He takes a step closer and his heart plummets when you immediately move backward.
"No, I know what you think you saw. Nothing happened, I swear. We went back to my place and she slapped me because I moaned your name!"
"Oh shit." JJ snickers and the rest of the group sends him daggers as he raises his hands defensively.
"That's nice, Rafe. It doesn't change the fact you brought a woman home to the bed we shared less than a week later with the intent of fucking her."
He tilts his head back and stares at the sky, growing more frustrated by the second.
"I didn't though! You actually fucked god knows how many dudes!"
It's a low blow and he knows it, he can see you shutting down by the way your face drops and your shoulders tense.
"Yeah, I did. At least I got shit out of it. Besides, I brought them back here or went to theirs. I never would have brought them someplace that still smelled like you! That space was sacred Rafe, and you defiled it. My fucking clothes were still there."
Rafe's lip quivers as the gravity of the situation crushes him. He doesn't know how to fix it this time.
"How do I fix this, Y/N? Please, just tell me and I'll do it."
You sniffle as you shake your head, another tear falling into the dirt below.
"No, Rafe. I think you should leave."
You look away as he drops to his knees in front of you, literally pleading with you as he cries freely now.
"Y/N, please. Please, I know I fucked up. Please."
You stifle a sob as John B and JJ pull him to his feet and drag him away. You watch as he fights against the two men, too focused on you to care about being pushed around. He screams out as he thrashes, his voice breaking from the sheer volume and pain.
"Baby, please! Y/N, don't do this. I'll fix it, okay? I promise I'll fix it! I'll be better for you!"
You collapse into Kie and Sarah when their arms wrap around you, every emotion you've repressed suffocating you at once.
Sarah presses your face into her shoulder, her own tears falling as she keeps you pointed away from her hysterical brother.
Rafe is all but carried back to his truck against his will, and JJ pins him against the door.
"Rafe," He begins, but he's cut off by a particularly hard shove from the man. He leans his weight forward, using it as leverage, and puts his arm across Rafe's throat to still his movements.
"Look, man! I know you're upset, but so is she. You need to get the fuck out of here, okay? I'm trying to be nice about this, but you're testing my very thin patience."
Rafe finally admits defeat and slumps down as he watches your knees hit the ground, heavy sobs wracking your body. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid, he never wants to be the source of your pain.
John B watches as the older Cameron drives away, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. Maybe now you'll start to cope in healthier ways.
Rafe cries the entire way home, memories of your relationship flashing like movie scenes every time he blinks. He's going to fix this if its the last thing he does. He just needs a game plan.
Taglist for those who requested part 2!
@brooklynscherry-z @joselyn001 @writtenwordslover @craftyalmondghostflap @malfoytargaryen
#rafe cameron#Rafe Cameron imagine#Rafe Cameron fic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#outer banks angst#outer banks imagine#outer banks fic#outer banks#outerbanks#outerbanks fic#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks angst
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The thing about Ed and Stede is I don't think they would've ever guessed someone like the other could even exist before they met. I can't even call their story "love at first sight" because they honestly started falling for each other before they met.
From the very first time we see Stede hearing Blackbeard stories, he's trying to figure out the man behind the myth. He has an instinct to pick Pete's stories apart, not just because he's trusting enough to believe they're true but because he has such a natural curiosity and willingness to look deeper. Ed, too, is absolutely fucking gone for this weirdo right away - when was the last time he met anyone who went against the grain, let alone someone who dared to talk back to Blackbeard? Before they even meet each other, Stede's interested in teasing out the truth about Blackbeard this perfect pirate, and Ed's fascinated by someone who doesn't seem afraid of him.
And when they meet, you can just feel it. Never have I seen two characters immediately seem so drawn to each other on screen before. You can feel the click. And as they learn more about each other, they never, not ever, get disappointed when the other doesn't quite match those first expectations.
Ed absolutely adores all the things Stede's been made fun of his whole life. Stede does not expect people to care about his interests or put up with him without complaining; Ed is enthusiastically curious about the things Stede likes and whole-heartedly thinks Stede is fucking incredible. Stede easily sets his expectations for Blackbeard aside as he learns more about Ed, letting Ed know that he can indulge in softer things and just be Ed around Stede with zero judgment. They're always so supportive and gentle with each other.
Both of them were so resigned, at the beginning of the show. They're both weird and dramatic and goofy, and they'd so desperately been longing for someone to play with, someone who got them. Their support for each other is so unconditional. What a beautiful story, that these two weirdos got to find each other, and we get to see them start their life together.
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i know it's all about the lion's den AU rn and as usual I am FEASTING on the content (excuse the crumbs) but there's an idea that won't leave me alone-
what if Peaches was not human, but an immortal from the beginning? How much would change? I know the whole appeal of these AUs - I mean, that's why I love them and I absolutely love this lil corner of the fandom. but I've been kinda diving into the whole immortality biz in Chinese myths for my oc, so now I'm curious.
Peaches could be someone cultivating and practicing Xian (i hope I'm using that right) for years, or consumed pills/elixir of immortality somehow, or a demon who is oddly very kind and empathetic - would the bois still love her just as much? How different is the dynamic now even if Peaches retains her core personality traits?
love your work! and hydrate before ya diedrate
ive been thinking about this, and i kinda like the idea of immortal reader being an attendant of the heavenly peach orchard.
not super high up the ladder, but not at the bottom either. her powers are limited to helping plants grow just a little bit, creating temporary barriers, and being able to float the way all celestials can. the higher-ups figure that since no one is bold or stupid enough to steal from heaven, they don’t need any extra security in the immortal peach groves.
you can take a guess as to how reader meets the monkeys.
they show up to the orchards, ready to fight their way to the peaches, but instead of some overpowered celestial soldiers guarding the orchard, it's....one immortal maiden. just the one. but she doesn't seem all that powerful, soooooo...
...maybe she'd agree to let them take a few without too much trouble?
the monkey bros go the "oh don't mind us we're just a couple of cute lil monkeys, here to cause adorable and harmless mischief" route in their approach to getting reader to let her gaurd down.
they approach her while she takes a break from pruning some dead branches. she's understandably surprised and suspicious about these two seemingly normal monkeys who've snuck in, but... they are pretty cute. and tame; they let her pet them and give them scritches. perhaps they're one of the heavenly official's pets. reader supposes that they can stay for a while.
wukong and macaque play their parts, get reader's guard down, and steal a couple dozen peaches each. reader notices, but there's not much she can do beyond shooing the monkeys out with a broom (and her soft heart barely allows her to do that). she knows that if she reports it, those cute lil monkeys will be hunted down and killed.
she supposes she could put in a request for higher walls around the grove, or more barriers (she still wonders how the boys managed to get through the first ones), but with how slowly things get done in the bureaucracy...it'd be a very, very long time until it was even brought up in court.
besides, even then....they're monkeys. animals. she won't place blame on them for being what they are. those little cuties probably had no idea that the immortal peaches were any different from the ones on earth.
she could never stay mad at their adorable lil faces anyways.
---
reader, despite what you might think, has a pretty laid back job. once all her chores for the day have been completed (those magic trees don't really need much beyond the essentials to do their thing), she has a good amount of free time to sit and, you guessed it—read.
macaque (because of course, he has to be the first one to fall in every au) decides, on a bored whim, to go visit that nice attendant they stole from not too long ago. perhaps he'll collect some intel while he's up there.
he finds her after a bit of searching. reader sits in a secluded corner of the grove, leisurely turning pages and enjoying the shade. macaque, still disguised, sidles up to her. reader notices, seeming surprised to see him before her face morphs into... a rather adorable pout. perhaps she thinks she's being intimidating.
'damn, no wonder the bureaucracy didn't think they needed any more security,' macaque thinks sarcastically. such a fearsome maiden they've chosen to guard the immortal peaches.
while reader takes a minute to admonish him about stealing, it isn't long before she sighs and gives up on her lecture in favor of scratching him gently behind his ears. he churrs low in his chest. her whole demeanor is as soft and sweet as the peaches she guards (her hands as well, he notes, pressing into them).
macaque laughs internally. a fearsome maiden, indeed.
macaque manages to wiggle his way into reader's lap, pulling her attention from her book. she knows she should be trying to scare him off, but...just—just look at him! he's so cute, and she's too pulled in by how cute he is to notice the oddly powerful aura he seems to exude (far too powerful to be a normal monkey). he enjoys her touch for a while longer before he hears the far-off call of his annoying brother, wondering where he is. he bumps his head into reader's hand by way of goodbye before running off to shadow away more secretively.
reader watches him go, sighing. she really should shoo him away next time.
---
macaque keeps coming back. and reader continues to be unable to kick him out.
with very few visitors and no one else to talk to, reader begins to tell him everything that she overhears during the day; the officials don't think anyone is listening when they air out their gossip as they walk by the orchard. she doesn’t know it, but she’s saving macaque the energy of using his powers to gather this intel on his own.
the six-eared demon makes a habit of showing up to the grove to laze around with his favorite maiden and listen to her read, using “spying” as the excuse he gives his brother for why he's been running off so often. reader seems to have accepted that he won't be leaving her alone any time soon, and he takes full advantage. macaque comes to think of reader and the secluded corner of the grove as his own little peice of heaven.
of course, sooner or later, wukong joins in. he's a bit angry that macaque didn't just say he was visiting the peach orchard and it's attendant; he wouldn't have minded, he would've come with! macaque doesn't bother trying to explain that he didn't want to share.
but share he does, seeing as wukong greedily takes all the attention from reader he can get. the monkey king finds himself enamored with the maiden who's hands and heart are as soft as the fruits she tends to. he won't admit it (it may hurt his carefully crafted "ruthless demon king" image if he did), but wukong is a cuddle bug when it comes to reader. everything about her is just so soft, and she's so kind, and she always smells like peaches—he could spend hours laying on her chest as she reads.
he just feels so...peaceful, with her.
the boys are entangled in reader's life, visiting whenever they can and butting into whatever she happens to be doing. they see her day to day happiness (brief conversations with the lower maids she's friends with), and her struggles (the two monkeys bore witness to the officials taking their anger out on reader over something trivial, their rage towards heaven growing stronger). the two grow more and more attached to her as time goes on.
and so they begin to work a small abduction into the grander scheme of their plan.
---
sooner or later, the monkey warlords properly raid heaven. they and their demon army storm the jade palace, murdering servants, footsoldiers, and as many officials as they can. the monkey king and the six-eared macaque lead a massacre so bloody it stains the palace walls red. wukong especially holds back none of his rage, getting caught up in his hatred for heaven and zealously continuing to shed as much celestial blood as he can.
during a lull in the chaos, macaque, covered in vicera, makes his way to the immortal peach grove. with the battle coming to a close and the demon forces being driven back, now is as good a time as ever to snatch up a special “peach” for himself and his brother.
he finds said peach preoccupied with a gallant attempt at protecting herself and a few lower maids from a demon soldier, using a series of barriers. the soldier breaks the barriers almost as fast as reader can make them, rapidly pushing her and her companions into a corner. reader puts up a brave fight, but she's a celestial attendant, not a celestial warrior.
macaque calls out to the soldier, halting their attack and telling them to regroup with the others and prepare to move out. the soldier complies, crassly assuring the women that they’re about to be nothing more than bloody pulp on the garden wall. no one has ever gone against the shadow general of the demon army and lived.
macaque waits until the soldier is out of sight before leisurely approaching the still quivering group of maids and their determined, but exhausted looking guard. reader tenses as he steps closer. she feels a horrible sense of dread crawl down her spine when she gets a good look at him.
the dark fur, the shape of the mask marking on his face...reader feels tears start to bead at the corners of her eyes.
this entire time, she'd been petting and coddling the six-eared macaque. the second in command of the dreaded demon army has been sitting right in front of her and she had no idea. reader can barely keep her breathing steady.
and if this is her dark-furred companion, then the lighter-furred one must be…oh stars.
…she let the monkey king in.
she practically threw open the doors for him. she didn’t report them when she should have, she knew there was something strange about them but she was so sure they were just normal animals—oh stars above, if the jade emperor ever discovered this, she’d be executed.
but…but reader steels herself. she can deal with that later. her friends are counting on her.
now, she’s certainly not expecting the blood-covered demon general across from her to be open to bargaining (he could just kill all of them now, but reader gets the feeling he wouldn't be merciful enough to end it quickly). and he knows exactly what leverage he has over her, she can see it in the smug look on his face.
but she tries anyways.
“let them go, please,” she begs breathlessly, arms shaking from the strain of maintaining her magic. the least she can do is buy her friends a moment more. “do whatever you want with me, but they are blameless.”
macaque chuckles, the sound reverberating lowly between the trees. whatever he wants, huh? oh, sweet peach. she should know better than to give him so much leeway.
“that is tempting. if that’s the case, then perhaps you’ll go with me willingly,” he muses, tail swaying slowly. his fangs glint dangerously when he smirks.
“don’t fight, and no harm will come to them. that, and your secret will be safe with me. honest."
reader doesn’t believe him. she can’t, but she and her friends are so low priority that calling for help would be useless. if the demon army has been as effective as the screaming would lead her to believe, the celestial host has much bigger problems than rescuing a gardener and some lowly maidservants. and with the chance that she’ll be seen through and blamed for every gory death that's happened beyond the walls of the peach groves...
she doesn’t have a choice.
reader slowly, cautiously lowers her barriers, despite the worried cries of the maids behind her. they cower closer together as reader takes a slow step closer to macaque.
with a flick of his wrist, reader is struck by a sleeping spell so potent she falls into macaque's waiting arms like a lead weight. the demon gathers his beloved into his hold with a gentleness that doesn't fit his gory visage.
he sinks into a shadow, leaving the maids to clutch each other and cry at the loss of reader and the near loss of their own lives.
---
reader wakes up days later in the royal bedchambers of the stone palace. she startles at seeing the monkey king and the six-eared macaque laying on either side of her, stripped to just a loose pair of pants each. she herself has been changed to a comfortable silk robe, her own clothing nowhere to be seen.
reader feels a cold sludge in her gut. she scrambles out of the pillow pit, kicking a few into the face of one of her captors as she goes. she checks herself over, looking for bite marks, claw marks, anything to indicate the two demons sharing a bed with her had violated her in any way. she looks, and breathes a heavy sigh.
she finds nothing.
"we figured we'd wait until you were awake to start marking territory," the tired, yet still somehow smug voice of the monkey king chimes from behind her. reader turns to see the demon leveling an amorous look her way. his gold and crimson eyes burn like fire in the low light.
reader ignores him in favor of falling to her knees and burying her face in her hands. now that she has a moment to think, her failure has decided to take centerstage; she was the one who let the monkey king into the jade palace, she let him steal the immortal peaches, she's the one who carelessly shared all the gossip that told them when the best time to attack would be, she's to blame for all the lives lost—
"hey. y'know we would've raided heaven even if we hadn't met you, right? it's not your fault," macaque says, propping his head in his hand to look at her. he doesn't have the decency to hide how he's sizing her up, poison purple eyes glowing whilst tracing her curves. reader shrinks into herself a bit more.
"yep. don't feel too bad, peaches. i was never gonna spare any of those bureaucrats in the first place," wukong adds. "and besides, none of those guys cared about you anyway, so why feel bad?"
reader sobs, pressing her hands to her eyes. she knows. she knows how callous the officials could be, but that doesn't mean they deserved to die. it doesn't mean the servants and foot soldiers who were only following orders deserved their fates.
she hears movement, then feels a set of strong, furred arms wrap around her. wukong rests his head on her shoulder. he nuzzles his nose against her neck. she feels his warm breath and the glance of deadly sharp fangs when he speaks.
"they didn't deserve the mercy you seem to think they did."
---
wukong places a seal on reader's powers. what little defense she had against them is gone with the placement of a brand-like marking in between her shoulder blades (and a few more along her shoulders made with his teeth).
reader can't do anything. wukong won't let her leave, and even if she could, the heavenly court will have her executed if she goes back. so, she remains on the monkey king's mountain.
she didn't think she'd share a fate with the precious fruit she'd failed to protect.
#bad end wukong#twice as bad au#immortal peach au#i guess??? cause shes an immortal???#this got waaay longer than expected#got tired and couldnt figure out how to end it#dialogue is hard
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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖
Pairing: Xavier x Fem!Reader
Prompt: "No, you can't stay here."
Words: ~1.1k
Genre: Angst, No Comfort
Notice: Some spoiler of Xavier's Myth, Shooting Stars, although not entirely aligned
He staggered back, clearly surprised by how your muttered words reverberated loudly in the otherwise dimly lit room. Cerulean orbs searched for yours skilfully, eyes bright as they were when tracking Wanderers in the darkest of nights.
"What did you say?" A hint of disbelief was palpable in Xavier's voice.
You stepped away from the shadow, hands trembling as you struggled to steady them. Despite anticipating this moment, when confronted with reality, you found yourself questioning whether you could truly accept your sacrifice without harboring any regrets.
"I said, no, you can't stay here."
Revelation dawned on him. Despite Xavier’s frequent drowsiness, he remained inherently sharp. It was one of the attributes that had made him a highly respected hunter.
"How long have you known?"
"Enough time to understand the over-complicated truth."
Irritation briefly flickered in his eyes. He looked at the thinning veil behind him, clearly cursing the other party that stepped through it earlier. "Jeremiah told you.”
“I was the one who convinced Jeremiah to tell me everything. You shouldn’t kick his ass when you see him again.”
Xavier couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly at that. Jeremiah, though physically not imposing, could defeat anyone on mind games. That’s why he brought him along on the mission as he needed a logical partner.
He couldn’t comprehend why Jeremiah had agreed to divulge the secrets they swore to keep between themselves—especially to the one person he had hoped would never uncover the truth.
“Besides, you’re not as secretive as you thought, Xav.” You gave him a small, sad smile. “I guess that's what makes us human, right? Despite not being a normal one, having an aether core-fused heart, or having lived for a hundred years, we still can’t stop ourselves from showing our deepest desires during moments of vulnerability. I used to believe that she was your unforgettable first love or perhaps an ex who taught you a crucial life lesson. However, that’s just me shying away from the undeniable.”
As much as you had steeled yourself for this moment, your vision began to blur, and Xavier was fast to engulf you in his hug. You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his lithe but muscular figure, feeling his warmth and further breaking your heart.
He buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath to blanket himself in your scent like he always did.
“That’s not true,” his voice came out shakier than he intended.
“But it is, Xavier. You don’t know how many times you called out to her in your sleep. Or sometimes when you look at me, I can tell that you don't truly see me for who I am in this current existence. You can’t deny this, because in doing so, you’re also hurting her…me.”
You had to force your head up to fully face your light. Xavier wouldn’t let you step away from him.
Gently cupping his cheeks, you urged him to focus on your next words. “Face it, Xav. Your queen and I… our resemblances are solely physical. We’re two entirely different persons, made up of distinct personalities. If she was the reason why you were in this timeline in the first place, you cling to the hope of going back to her one day, don’t you? You wouldn’t abandon her eternity, right?”
His hug tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said after some time, head bowed in shame. “I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, deeply sorry for making you feel less than your worth.”
Despite his painful acknowledgment, you found yourself relaxing, accepting your fate. Xavier's thumbs gently wiped away the tears that had escaped from your eyes.
“But you’re going to be here all alone,” his voice cracked, almond eyes cloudy. “I can’t go back and live peacefully knowing that.”
“If what Jeremiah told me is the truth, I have left you more than once. It’s your time to experience having someone be there when you’re back. This is the time to redeem myself, even when the timeline has gone haywire.”
Xavier shook his head furiously. “We won’t know if the alternative aether core would work. If I go back and learn that I will lose you again and Philos, I would rather stay here with you in the past.”
“You know it will work, that’s why you were so insistent on sending Jeremiah back alone with it, and selfishly waiting at the other end just to make sure it disappears, an indicator that Philos has accepted the aether-core. You know how much Jeremiah wants to go back there, and for everything he has done for you, you believed it was your turn to help him. I can’t take you away from her; it’s not right. It’s not my time to have you.”
“What difference does it make when I’m also willingly leaving you here? You understand that once I step through that veil, we’ll never meet each other again in this timeline.”
As if aware of its existence, the veil dimmed. You eyed it wearily, realizing that the swirling vortex of electric blue and silver had turned almost transparent.
"Xavier,” you sighed when he cupped your hand, reveling at the contact, “we both know that my time in this realm will end, I can’t be immortal here. I would rather face the certainty of our eternal bond in another dimension than linger in the fleeting confines of this world.”
You placed your fingers against his lips, silencing his upcoming argument. “You do realize that if you abandoned me in the future, I would despise you, don't you?" you made a playful comment to lighten the mood, but he was miserable. Filled with guilt and disappointment that he couldn’t control the situation.
You guided his head down to meet your lips halfway. As both of your lips touched in a bittersweet embrace, a silent farewell woven into each tender touch. The palm pressed against his heart felt its rapid beats.
“Goodbye, my light. Be happy,” you whispered those words to his lips.
Xavier should have known that whenever you were around, his caution melted away. That was his greatest weakness. He registered the force that caught him entirely off guard a second too late.
Xavier reached out his hand, losing momentum. “Y/N! Wait—!” he called out, voice tinged with urgency.
As his body was hurled into the closing veil, it snapped shut, swallowing his unfinished words. Sobs wracked your body, each wave of emotion sent your body crashing to the wooden floor.
Moonlight peeking through the windows cast its glow upon the intricate gold of the gigantic frame before you.
Where the veil had shimmered moments before, there was now only emptiness, revealing a cold cement wall that stood as a cruel reminder of the end of a chapter you could never revisit.
While seemingly nearly empty every night, a profound silence enveloped Philo Flower Store differently. Vibrant blooms began to wilt, their once lively hues fading into desolation, while the lush vines that once cascaded down nearby buildings now curled and browned.
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#xavier#xavier x reader#xavier x y/n#xavier x you#angst#hurt/no comfort
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Percy Jackson spoilers and criticism below.
I see people complain about how the show just has the characters figuring out things way too quickly (I completely agree with this.) Then I see people complaining about that criticism saying things like “Oh it makes sense! They would know that because Annabeth’s been at camp, Grover is a satyr, and Percy’s mom taught him about the myths!” However, there is a difference between them knowing about the stories and them IMMEDIATELY figuring each potential trap/situation out and zapping the energy from the scenes.
These same instances in the book usually involve a feeling of unease, something feels off, things seem kind of familiar, and it slowly dawns on them what they are dealing with OR they are escaping one situation to be thrust into another and don’t have time to think about it at all. There’s tension, there’s drama. I’m here for it. The show on the other hand? Oof.
Also the circumstances in which they encounter these situations in the book greatly influence how things go. They are human(ish) after all and them getting into these messes makes them easier to connect to as characters. Let’s break it down a little more there.
- With Medusa they were lost in the woods and hungry. The smell of food lured them in. They were hungry children dang it! From the circus lol (Honestly, this instance didn’t bother me too much in the show when I first watched it because it was early on before the knowing things too soon became an ongoing theme.)
- With the Lotus Hotel and Casino they were tired and feeling grimy, having just traveled in the back of a truck with a bunch of animals in horrible conditions. It was scorching hot outside. They were absolutely exhausted and wound up there where a doorman invited them in and it was a relief to have somewhere to take a break, recoup and figure out their next move. Once inside they had access to a shower! There were snacks. Plus the place was incredible. It also showed their interests with Annabeth being drawn in to trivia and city building games, Percy liked the bungee jumping! Grover played a reverse hunting game! Percy figured out the trap by asking a guy using 70s slang and dressed to match, what year it was. He kept asking and getting different answers. Then he was able to snap Annabeth out of it by describing spiders, which he knew she had a fear of from the Tunnel of Love ride. (This whole scene in the show was such a let down, so was the Tunnel of Love scene but I’ll leave that alone for now.)
- With Crusty they were on the run and dashed into the store. This encounter is one of my favorite moments of Percy’s quick thinking in the books btw. Also his absolute lack of hesitation to slice someone’s head if they mess with his friends. Percy is smart. He’s very street smart actually. In the book this scene shows that really well. (The way I paused the show in frustration and almost turned it off when the episode started already at Crusty’s with the line “I know who you are.” Like of course. That’s just how we’re telling this story now. Check. They met Crusty. And he doesn’t feel like a threat at all. But they met him I guess.)
The exhaustion and the circumstances in these instances in the book and getting into these traps aren’t the trio being “stupid.” They were moments that set up the situation to feel more relatable, alive, tense, and interesting. The show’s changes have taken away most of the tension from these scenes. Them knowing and catching on to things so quickly is lazy and it is incredibly boring. It just feels like they are checking off a list of places from the books they wanted in the show, while losing the entire energy and impact of those locations and scenes.
To me everything in this show feels like it’s at 20%. The humor, the stakes, the tension, the personality, the freaking lighting (why is so much of this show so hard to even see?), the whimsy, the magic, the charm. It’s all so dialed back and watered down. The book is a roller coaster of making you laugh and putting you on the edge of your seat with the tension and situations these kids get into. It’s campy, it’s intense, it’s crazy, and so energetic. The show feels bland in comparison. Idk how you manage to make Percy Jackson feel boring but they did it.
I’m not asking for it to be an exact copy of the book. I’m just disappointed with how dull it is. When it’s boring and it’s a scene that was the furthest thing from that in the original version then YES I’m going to compare it and wonder why there were changes to make it less interesting. In fact, my favorite scene in the show so far is actually the taxi in the parking garage scene. It captured the energy and vibe of Percy Jackson really well and it’s a scene not in the books at all. The energy is important and this show is lacking severely most of the time. It has some really good moments (back to that 20% thing) but overall it’s such a let down.
We have one episode left of the season and I don’t exactly have high hopes of it making things better. It just makes me sad because I wanted to love this series. The incredibly talented cast, a major studio behind it, passionate people being involved including the author, amazing source material… I look at all of the ingredients and it should be amazing. But I’m pretty disappointed right now.
#pjo tv#Percy Jackson and the olympians#Percy Jackson#Percy Jackson spoilers#pjo#pjo tv critical#pjo tv crit
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https://www.tumblr.com/cardassiangoodreads/722229585723424768/im-just-going-to-say-right-now-that-i-dont-think?source=share
Just curious about your thoughts
The post and the tags because this person has blocked me preemptively - and they're lucky cause I wouldn't shat all over them. This person is a USAmerican very removed from Italian culture.
My Answer:
Ooooo coloniser rhetoric in the 21st century! That's a sight for sore eyes! (Which became sore cause they see such takes all the time).
Funny how this person talks about how objects belonging to Greece right after saying that our heritage figures (like our gods and heroes) don't belong to us. If Greek culture is a global culture why can't foreigners keep the objects? Hmmm I wonder…. They still put the "Greek" or "Roman" to characterise the stories but the moment Greeks and Italians speak up, then all of a sudden "the stories akksuually have no culture, they belong to all of us!" 😂😂😂
I wonder if this person understands what the term "heritage" means, because gods and heroes are definitely part of one's heritage and we never stopped preserving the texts that spoke about them, and they are still part of our living culture.
I'm all for listening to the members of the diaspora but when we are at the point when one of them is regurgitating imperialist points, not only there's a big divide with current opinions in Italy, but I also cannot leave such points unanswered. Also, many Italians, like Greeks, are sick of how their myths are treated but this person didn't even check, they just spoke over them. Because they didn't bother to ask people, obviously.
Ancient Greek heroes and gods still mean a lot to us. They always meant. They were born from visions, dreams, and other sacred methods, or oral traditions from our ancestors, reflecting specifically the ancient Greek culture. It's good that foreigners can access them and relate to a degree but divorcing any folk story from its origin is always negative. Especially when this culture is still ongoing.
Our Christianity is revamped ancient Greek religion, I wonder, does this person know that? Our temples have the same parts. We still have home altars, and divinities presiding over domains. Our hagiography is how we used to paint our gods and creatures. We still have almost the same nature creatures. The customs have remained and have persisted, and I won't have someone who clearly ignores this say "They gave the religion up". Ftou.
Also when it comes to our gods and their symbols (and yes btw we call them "our" gods lots of times), we can deduce things from our local tradition and environment, whereas an Anglophone who worships the gods or is interested in them but doesn't know stuff about the country of origin of those gods has no idea about our history, methods and environment. Example: Foreigner refuses to accept that there's a pine cone on Dionysos' thyrsos (although it looks like a pinecone) because "it doesn't make sense" and very excitedly suggests another plant instead. Greek lets them know that it is actually a pine cone not only because it looks like a pinecone but because the pinecone has been used in our winemaking process forever, and Dionysos also presided over this process. Guess Greece and its environment and it's people are still relevant to the religion, and it also turns out that the symbols of the gods derived from the Greek reality. Who knew!
Now onto another point. Op says that the Greek stories became "global culture" because they got shared everywhere. Them being shared is not a bad thing! However just studying them and be taught about them is not culture. By this logic, and since Egyptians "gave their old religion up", ancient Egyptian gods are now MY ancient gods because I can find books about ancient Egypt at my local bookstore. woww 😂 What about this? Almost every Greek knows 100 and 1 nights. We have made it into a play also. SOO... these are our cultural stories now, right? West Asians and Arabs in general shouldn't speak if they ever see us and other nations being ridiculous about the stories, and stereotypes and changing the characters a lot but still claim we are doing great, right? Got it.
The way this post is written it's like Germans and Brits kept the ancient Greek myths alive since ancient years or something. Greeks themselves never stopped preserving their own ancient texts, and they escaped with them in Europe after the fall of Constantinople, so NW Europeans REDISCOVERED them 1500 years later. They had lost interest by then.
Funny they mention different nations that were Hellenized or became Roman territories because people living in these nations are exactly those who don't speak about Greek and Roman culture as "a global culture". It's always North Westerners who start these discussions, I wonder why…..
People from the aforementioned nations already interact healthily with their ancient heritage - which is not Greek or Roman culture but always a local version with Greek or Roman elements, and that's great too. I haven't heard a Pakistani say "Theseus is our hero too!" or a Tunisian say "Zeus is our local ancient father of the gods!" Because they know exactly how the mix happened and what their national identity is. And I'm getting more and more tired of seeing Westerners erase these experiences too, and just make assumptions for other nations.
I swear I mostly see USians getting butthurt about other people getting conquered 2.000 years ago. The nations themselves don't give a shiiit. Guys, I know our antiquities are the only interesting thing about us in your eyes but Please Make An Effort to understand people from ancient cultures and how we don't give a shit about these conquests cause they happened Two Thousand Years Ago, and we had other tragic stuff in the meantime. Thanks
Also, as I said, these conquests are not why Greek myths are popular today. The conquests were so incredibly old that the average person in these countries (Balkans, the Mediterranean, West Asia) - and Greece - had no idea who built the ancient ruins they saw around! Does this person think Greek myths were handed down from Moroccan grandma to Moroccan grandchild from 300 BCE to 2024 continuously or something?
Greek myths are very popular in most parts of the world today because the West (meaning not Greece, especially at the time when we were "cattle") popularized them non-stop the last few centuries. And they did a shitty job, at that. In fact, Greeks abroad have been cringing about this treatment of our myths since the 15th century but, as usual, we were not being heard.
And what does "global culture" even mean?? As if you see any culture to how the US (because OP focuses on the US and the retellings there, from the looks of it) interacts with our stories. As if they care about the meaning of the story. (There are a few notable exceptions ofc but they remain FEW) People with such arguments just want to feel guilt-free when using our myths out of context. That's why Western academic cycles often run in circles about "what the myths mean" while Greeks have told you exactly what they mean.
The US audience is still not free of the coloniser WASP approach. They see our myths STILL as a product of modern White Supremacy instead of an ancient Greek product, and they often condemn the myths and "better" them by completely pushing them into USian lens to the point they don't look or feel like the original myths anymore. (All the above you don't dare to do with cultural stories and figures from nations you want to respect, by the way.) Is this the cultural "exchange" they're talking about?
I'm done hearing in the international spaces that my culture is "boring" because USians have seen horrible adaptation after horrible adaptation. I'm tired of USians making wild assumptions about how "horrible" our gods are because whoever told them the myths didn't give a simple explanation about our ancient societies. (Don't start crap about accessibility, there are very accessible ways to talk to kids, teens, and adults about other cultures and teach them age-appropriate tales) I'm tired of my heritage being commercialized to that degree. All Greeks roll their eyes in USAmerican movies about our culture and we call them Amerikaniés. And don't worry, I'm getting to the real stuff.
How our ancient culture is treated and how we are sidelined has real consequences on our lives abroad AND inside our culture, on how we are perceived, on how our surnames are perceived, on how we "don't look like Greeks", on how our Greek myth retellings don't get published abroad! They speak in front of us about our own words as if they are magical and mythical and strange! The opinions and perspectives of Greeks are not sought abroad, and you are a masterclass on why this happens. We make y'all uncomfortable. You feel better if you forget about us.
Another exhibit: All the hurtful comments of foreigners who centered the HUGE milestone of same-sex marriage in Greece because all they could imagine - while queer Greeks suffered a lot these last few months - was their wedding in Gay Mykonos and Lesbian Lesbos. This was their first reaction. They didn't possibly think that Greeks were seeing that because we are far away and irrelevant, right?
Obviously culture-mixing is not bad but the West didn't mix our culture with theirs. They just took it for entertainment and their popular culture never saw the depth or the meaning of it. OP speaks about how our stories were spread while actively avoiding speaking in depth about the problematic elements of that spread. They recognize to a small degree how Greeks feel about the matter but they dismiss most of our concerns in such a nonchalant way that all that comes to my mind is "privilege".
And speaking of power… Greeks have less systemic power than the countries of the West. We are the US' puppet, are you kidding me?? Our armies get deployed wherever the US wants. Our politicians don't even fart without a telephone from the US. We are the whores of the German, Belgian and French governments. Greeks abroad still face discrimination for their customs and how they look, and how their food smells, and how our religion is and how our hymns sound, and other ridiculous stuff. Our infrastructure is slowly being bought out by Germans and USians to various degrees. There are different scales to exploitation and bigotry, I agree, but that doesn't mean that only the roughest bigotry cases are worth discussing.
"We could also talk about the additional level of exploitation in how imperial powers used Greek mythology as an argument for the "superiority of the West," while at the same time plundering Greece's resources and treating it like it exists only as a tourist site" They are SO close to getting it, and yet their post says otherwise.
Fetishism of a culture makes the members of the actual culture feel alienated and hurt. As a person of Italian ancestry you should know how this specific "global culture" argument has been used to strip Greeks and Italians of any claims, so the "dirty Greeks" can be separated from the "pure WASP" USian upper class of the time who deemed themselves more suitable to engage with the material.
"Greeks spreading their culture through military force all over (eventually) most of Europe" what the hell?? Sorry, guys, (side-eyes the other Greeks) we conquered Romania??? wow!
Plus, this person doesn't know the difference between the Greek colonisation of Italy and Sicily and the recent European colonisation, and - to say it very politely - they should open a book.
By The Way
You can still interact with the Greek culture without having a colonial attitude! Nobody is barring you! I want to make this abundantly clear!
Most importantly, you don't have to make arguments for "global culture" when it's simple to place the myths inside their original context while interacting with them! You just have to read a bit more books that are on the internet and your library for free! Recognising that a foreign culture is not yours, and that you engage with it because it's just popular, doesn't stop anyone from interacting with it. You simply refuse to interact with them at the proper, deeper level, because you always want to center them around yourself. You want to interact with foreign stories just how the colonisers did it. Congrats.
I'm talking about the majority of cases. Of course people in the US can take all sorts of inspiration from foreign myths and adapt them to their reality. And it's a good result when they're being respectful and have studied the stories beforehand.
All we ask is to engage with the material in context so you can understand what our ancestors wanted to express. If your only view of Greek myths has come from other Americans and NW Europeans then you see them through coloniser lens. That's non-negotiable. I had people from other countries recite to me USAmerican viewpoints about the Greek gods, as if they were fact. Cause it's the only exposure that's happening worldwide right now.
You can interact with Greco-Roman myths whether Greece and Rome touched your country or not, we don't care. But please don't get your source from the pop US culture. These people think that it makes sense for nymphs to look like trees (that's an Anglo-Saxon and Celtic nature creature depiction. Ancient Greece was very anthropomorphic). It's not a crime if you change some stuff in a retelling but why willingly ignore the original depictions and what they have to show you for the ancient people who created them?
Pfff... Thank you anon for bringing this trash to me. I needed to - metaphorically - throw something in the trash. It took me a few hours to answer this but well... I do write a lot and this post was full of shit I had to shovel.
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Rebel Moon Novelization
Some interesting parts from the novelization! Contains potential spoilers for Rebel Moon under the cut.
The novelization opens with the destruction of King Heron's world, as punishment for aiding the Bloodaxes. Noble forces Heron's son, Aris, to kill his father with the bone staff to protect his family before he is conscripted into the army. Noble beats the rest of his family to death anyway.
Kora's sex scene with Den is fleshed out (wink). Inwardly, she admits to liking Gunnar, despite his shyness, but has issues with intimacy and the idea of starting a family.
Hagen, a villager whose wife and daughter died, was the one who found Kora and took her in. He is something of a father figure to her.
Slightly longer dialogue scene with Sam & Jimmy. Features Jimmy's line from the trailer that a 'A king is a man, and a man can fail or betray. But a myth is indestructible.' He mentions that Balisarius had the Jimmies separated from Princess Issa, despite their vow to protect her, and that most of them had never set foot on the Motherworld.
Sam thanks Aris for saving her (❁´◡`❁)
Den takes over as the village leader after Sindri and his wife are bone staffed to death 😓
Before Kora leaves, she asks Hagen to task Private Aris to fix the guns on the dropship she crash-landed on Veldt in.
In Kora's flashback scene, we learn Kora's family lived above the tea shop they owned. She had two older siblings. They are killed by Imperium soldiers while she is upstairs packing.
Kora's scene with Balisarius has dialogue. He introduces himself. She tells him her name is Kora. She believes he is impressed she had the guts to pull the trigger. He renames her on the spot 😒 and takes her as a 'a gift to himself and his legacy' 😒 because 'every leader had an heir'.
Kora's life on the ship is briefly detailed. Balisarius brings her to a surrendering planet and makes her watch the soldiers open fire on its people. She is sent to train at the Imperium military academy and doesn't see Balisarius for years. Before she leaves, he tells her she can't tell anyone about her past or where she came from. She graduates with top marks and her final test is orchestrated by Balisarius: it involves her executing a man without question.
More scenes in the village. Aris keeps his Imperium uniform to keep up appearances for transmissions to the Motherworld.
While trying to fix the ship, Aris and Sam share how their parents died. It's giving young love over shared trauma 🥰 They wake to find there is a deer with antlers removed (important!) roasted on a spit and the ship has been repaired. Aris guesses it was Jimmy who did it.
We hear from Jimmy's perspective that he ran to save Sam because he felt the same connection and loyalty to her as he did Princess Issa (interesting). He decides to make his own choices, carves his own staff, cloaks himself with a robe, and a pair of fashionable deer antlers to go into the wilderness.
Hickman hints at Tarak's backstory-- he says Tarak runs when given the chance and that he let his own people die at the hands of the realm.
Cassius takes a call from someone who makes him more uneasy than Noble, a high scribe named Enoch with abilities that defy logic. Cassius finds Noble predictable in his brutality.
We learn more about Cassius: he doesn't have the implants the realm's upper classes and high-ranking officials make to their bodies because it would leave him open in ways he didn't want. Cassius's family isn't native to Moa (the Motherworld) but had been there for generations and became affluent. His mother's penchant for opulence mounted debts for his father, a senator, and her modifications revealed their circumstances to another senator who blackmails them. Cassius's father trades him to serve with the priests who tells him that silence and observation are powerful tools (interesting).
Sexy scene with Noble and the Octopus, called the Twins. They were gifted to him by a warlord and are one of the few things he actually likes. Not shockingly, he is really into tentacle shit and BDSM. Cassius interrupts and Noble offers to let him go a round with the Twins. Cassius, grossed the eff out, politely declines. It's TMI, even for him.
More Cassius backstory: his career in the priesthood doesn't work out; after his family is ruined and executed, he joins the military order where he meets Noble, who confirms his father was responsible for Cassius's family's downfall & execution. In the academy, Cassius sees Noble's cruelty up close. He thinks of Noble as someone charming and cruel, surrounding himself with slightly smarter but less ambitious people. Good at working his way into the right circles.
Daggus is known throughout the galaxy for its cobalt mines. The land was leveled and indigenous life died out. Workers, mostly refugees, move there with the promise of wealth only to be exploited and live in poor conditions.
Kora offers to help Nemesis with Harmada, but she declines. She says: 'Harmada has grown accustomed to the pain of her grief. I know her rage intimately. We are not enemies.'
After watching Gunnar save the child, Kora thinks that even though he isn't a seasoned warrior, he has the heart of one. She's catching feelings.
In a flashback scene, she watches Princess Issa play in the snow at the winter castle. There is a frozen lake with giant fish and creatures swimming underneath (important later).
Kora witnesses Issa bring the bird back to life and warns her not to show anyone her power. Issa recounts that when she was born she almost killed her mother but when she was placed in her arms, the Queen was miraculously healed. Everyone present was sworn to secrecy. Unbeknownst to them, the King watches this scene from the castle window.
The King approaches her later and tells Kora that Issa likes having her as a guard and expresses his happiness at her new role. He asks if she misses her homeworld, but Kora doesn't respond. Balisarius told the King that Kora was abandoned as a child.
King Levitica agreed to help the Bloodaxes because he finds the Imperium's notion of 'homogeneous purity vile' and because 'they neither respect nor value anything that doesn't serve them at the expense of their own lives.' His comfort and kindness remind Kora of Hagen, her father figure on Veldt.
While waiting for the Bloodaxes, Tarak tells the others of how the people of his home, the Samandrai system, were killed or enslaved by the Imperium. Kora asks why he wasn't taken and conscripted to be made an example of. When he doesn't respond, she surmises he left before that could happen. Kai calls him a coward and ribs the other men. He and Titus almost get into a fight. Gunnar tells Kora he thinks Kai is a dick.
Darrian tells Devra that "people need a revolution they can see". When he refers to not allowing another world to fall in their name, he is presumably referring to King Heron's world at the beginning of the book.
A dying King Levitica tells Noble that "goodness will return to the universe. Endless war and needless death will end in the universe., There will be one to bring it back." So sad to see the end of his squidgy face.
Kora and Tarak speak; Tarak doesnt trust Kai, but she brushes it off. Girl, there are SO many alarm bells ringing.
Kai's betrayal reminds Kora of the "first monumental betrayal in her life."
There is more dialogue between Noble and the team as they are bound and about to be transported. Noble mocks Nemesis's dead children (seriously, fuck this guy!!!). The spine machines are meant to paralyse them for transport.
Noble asks if Gunnar will be a problem being transported unbound but Kai laughs it off, saying Gunnar is a coward. Oop. That was a bad read.
The fight sequence actually has them fighting together. Titus acknowledges Nemesis saving his life. Tarak and Titus fight happily side by side.
Darrian's death scene is vague; it says his body 'shut[s] down like the hunk of metal he clung to' while screaming 'Death to the Motherworld! Death to the Realm! For Shasu!' while hysterically laughing.
More dialogue when Noble and Kora fight. When she looks over his (presumably) dead body, she wishes it was Balisarius instead and is sad to know that she'll likely never be able to confront him in person.
There's a "who's going to fly this thing" moment with Kai's freighter. A crime this was left out. (Also, they don't answer this; the freighter apparently just lands itself when they arrive back in Providence.)
Back on Veldt, Sam invites Aris to stay in her home. She loves sewing and quilting, which she learned from her grandmother. Aris likes the quilts, which is good because she has so many.
After the company arrive in the village, they are followed by two Hawkshaws at a distance. They are watched, in turn, by Jimmy.
Devra commands her ships return to 'Base One'.
The astral plane setting where Noble meets Balisarius is confirmed to be the winter gardens of the royal palace where the Princess Issa scene was set.
Balisarius' face is noted to have been kept young with 'fortune and science' (yeah, and bad CGI 😐)
It's explicitly confirmed that Kora is responsible for the assassination of the royal family, or at least is being blamed for it. Noble says: 'I have found her. The hated other who murdered in cold blood that which we held most dear.' He also calls her 'the ethnic impurity, the monster, the Scargiver, the enemy of us all.' Balisarius says Arthelais is the 'assassin of the royal family, she who killed the king and queen, as well as her charge, the Princess Issa.'
- From Rebel Moon Part One - A Child of Fire: The Official Movie Novelization by V. Castro
Other interesting parts:
The scribes extract the teeth of their victims and put them on their masks in front of an image of Princess Issa to 'honour her.' The effect is, not surprisingly, extremely horrifying.
While Kora is living on the ship, she sees a Kali in a giant metal encasement with 'thick tubes of red and blue energy' and 'something alive in there'. She feels sorry for it, and thinks it is the only other thing on the ship who understands the feeling of being trapped.
Kora's off-worlder status is being made a big deal of, and I'm still not sure why. Balisarius apparently gets no heat for raising the assassin that murders the royal family?
Cassius is given way too much backstory for him to just be a random henchman. I suspect he may be collecting information to overthrow Noble at some point.
I am outing myself as a Sam is Princess Issa truther, even if it doesn't make any sense at all. But I think it's neat.
Sam and Aris ❤
Jimmy ❤
#rebel moon#rebel moon spoilers#a child of fire#rebel moon novelization#kora#gunnar#tarak#atticus noble#cassius#balisarius#Princess Issa#sorry if there’s typos! I will not be bothering to spellcheck this
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Gee. You know. Looking at this? I am not eved making a comic this long. I've just kept slowly adding to this thing and it's too big to do anything with now. So. Uh.
3 part final version of my TOHsona dream sequences I guess? cw for violence and unreality
Part 1: (the pitchfork dream I posted a draft of a while back)
There is an old myth on the Boiling Isles that Humans, because they cannot cast spells, lack a heart.
This myth predates the discovery of the bile sac. In ancient times, it was understood only that the heart was the source of a witch’s magic.
This is the origin of the modern superstition that witches with round ears are heartless in the metaphorical sense.
--
[12 YEARS BEFORE THE DAY OF UNITY]
Philip watches as Caleb walks away from him, towards the figure of a witch silouhetted against an obscuring light, her hand outstretched.
Philip cannot move a muscle. He grips the rock he's crouching behind and his wooden mask so tightly that his knuckes are white.
Caleb reaches the witch, and discards his pitchfork. The loud clatter makes Philip twitch, but he remains frozen. He wills himself to stand, to shout, to do something, anything, but it's useless. His body simply refuses to listen.
The witch puts an arm around Caleb so gently that Philip wants to be sick. They enter the light slowly, agonizingly. Philip watches as their forms blur around the edges more and more, until at last the final hint of their shadow vanishes, and the door slams behind them.
Philip leaps to his feet, knowing he is too late. He jumps over the rock anyways, running full speed towards the door.
P: CALEB--!
Abruptly the door swings open again, and a new figure rushes out of the light, toward Philip, causing him to stop short and almost fall over from momentum. She leans back through the doorway to say one last thing--
S: --no thank you! Sorry!
-- then closes the door hurriedly and backs away from it nervously. Philip finds himself at a complete loss for how to react. This girl is not the witch who took Caleb, she's too short-- closer to Philip's height-- and her hair is too long. She shows no trace of the demonic pointed ears, either, but one can never be too cautious.
From behind the door, Philip hears the muffled voices of a few more young girls:
?: What's her problem?
?: You're missing out, scardey cat~!
?: She wouldn't've been much help, but it would've been fun...
?: C'mon guys, lets pick a doll!
[giggling]
The girl sighs, staring forlornly at the door as the voices fade away.
P: [now weilding Caleb's pitchfork] Who are you?!
S: [jumps violently] Agh! Uh--!
She rubs her face and sniffles. Her cheek seems shinier, but it's not quite how tear streaks should look--
S: I'm Signey-- Sorry! I thought this was...my room...?
She looks around, only now registering that she is in a cave.
P: Well, you don't belong here! Begone!
P: A-and bring my brother back! Or...or else!
He thrusts the pitchfork toward her threateningly, with much more confidence than he feels. She lifts her open palms in front of her to mime surrender, and leans away from him for good measure, back pressed against the door.
S: I didn't see any boys on my way here! I just came down the hall!
She points unhelpfully at the door.
P: I don't care!! Get out!!!
She reaches for the doorknob as if to heed him, but then pauses and stares nervously at it, chewing her lip.
S: Uh...can I stay here for just a minute, actually...?
Shw turns toward him a little, but doesn't make eye contact. She is wringing her hands.
S: I just...don't want to be in there during the conjuring spell...
P: Spell?! [gasps] Caleb!
Frantic, Philip runs toward the door, and fhe stranger has the good sense to swiftly step out of his way. His hand hesitates over the doorknob for just a moment. He takes a deep breath, barely manages to steel his resolve, and throws open the door.
On the other side is a hallway, apparently inside of a house. He hears girls giggling around the corner and runs toward the sound
He's met by a circle of witches that look a little bit older and are dressed even more strangely than the girl he just spoke to. Candles are arranged throughout the room, and tbeir wicks burn an unnatural green color, casting everything in an eerie, flickering light.
P: [wielding pitchfork at them again] Where is Caleb?!
The witches look at him with confusion, disdain, and annoyance.
??: Uh.
??: What the hell?
?: Get out of here! No one invited you!
??: Cool witches only.
P: [voice shaking] Just-- just tell me where my brother is and I won't hurt you!!!
??: Oh my Titan.
??: We don't know who you're talking about, weirdo!
??: Seriously!
Signey shuffles timidly around the corner behind Philip.
S: Uh...Sorry. He's confused, I think...Sorry...
?: Whatever. Just get him away from us.
Signey walks toward Philip, lifting a hand as if to touch his arm, but stopping short.
S: Hey, come on--
He stumbles backwards a couple of steps, twisting to face her.
P: Get away from me!! I can't allow these witches commune with the Devil, or-- or whatever it is they're doing!
S: [raising her voice to match his] Can't you just leave them alone?
S: You're ruining the conjuring! [she steps toward him]
[Philips shakey grip on the pitchfork tightens]
P: What is wrong with you?! That's clearly dark sorcery!!
??: Ugh, shut UP.
?: It's not a big deal. It doesn't even count as Wild Magic. Everyone knows that.
S: Yeah! It...it doesn't count. Just let them do whatever they want!
??: Yeah!
??: Yeah!
P: But...You don't really think that!!
S: !
P: Just a minute ago, I saw how scared you were! You must be able to tell this is evil!
S: No! I-I just...I'm nervous, 'cause...!
[The other witches are all staring at her silently. Signey cannot meet their eyes]
S: I just am! I'm a baby, okay?! It's me, not them!
P: How can you defend them?! They took Caleb! They're evil!
S: SHUT UP!!!!
[Philip is shocked into silence]
S: NO ONE CARES!!!!
S: No one cares about your stupid brother!!!! He's not even here!!!
S: No one wants YOU here, either!!!
S: So GET OUT!!!!
As the witches shout in agreement, Signey suddenly lunges for his arm-- he elbows her away. She reaches for the pitchfork instead, managing to grab the handle. She tugs on it hard, and nearly wrenches it out of his hands. He needs to act fast, or he's going to be defenseless. In a moment of desperation, Philip twists the pitchfork out of her grip and swings the sharp end towards Signey, succumbing to the childish impulse to squeeze his eyes shut. He feels the pitchfork catch.
The room falls dead silent. The light seems to change. Signey, who had flinched reflexively, looks down to see the prongs of the pitchfork sticking into her chest.
Philip stares, frozen with shock. The direction he'd swung in and the place she was standing should have made this impossible.
Signey is not moving, barely even breathing. The two children stay stone still for a moment that seems to stretch on for ages.
Then, the witches behind them start laughing.
Philip whips his head around to look at them. They are shrouded in shadow, their facial features becoming unclear and their grins seeming to stretch to uncanny extremes in the dim light. They take turns jeering between fits of giggles.
??: Wowww!
??: Seriously?
??: Don't just stand there!
?: Suck it up!
??: Use a spell!
Philip's skin crawls.
P: Stop laughing!! This isn't a joke!
Laughter roars again.
?: Yeah it is!
Pointing a shadowy finger toward the pitchfork’s prongs, a witch with long, dark hair continues, barely stifling her own laughter,
?: Look! There’s nothing in there!
When Philip looks again, he realizes it’s true. It’s as though he’s poked through the shirt of a scarecrow. The fabric puckers inward, but there’s no indication of flesh or blood underneath.
Despite everything, the unnatural sight gives Philip a rush of vindictive courage.
P: She’s a witch, like all of you! It’s sorcery!
His comment renews their laughter a bit too well. The lead witch says, as though it is the most obvious thing in the world,
?: Yeah right! She can’t even handle a moonlight conjuring!
Signey is trying desperately to speak, but her jaw will not move far enough, and her vocal chords refuse to cooperate. She can't even will herself to look up. She is helpless. Still, Signey hears the wide smile in her sister’s voice as she continues:
?: Don't you get it?
?: You’re both human!
Philip's blood runs cold.
?: And he still hates your guts.
The witch erupts into hysterical giggles. Philip’s eyes reflexively snap to Signey, and he regrets it. Her wide-eyed, desperate terror reflects his own too closely.
Philip steps backwards in a futile attempt to separate himself from what he’s done. The fire encircling them, dancing with derisive glee, prevents him from getting very far. When did the flames get so tall? Philip feels the bloodied knife slip out of his weak grip.
Signey's skin prickles. It's forming scales that dry out and catch on her hair. She presses a forearm against her stab wound, which is feeling strangely cold. Her breaths are shallow.
With no one around to impress, the things Signey said come crashing down on her. Of course he hates her.
She wants to let herself collapse. She wants to cry. She wants to apologize. She can't form the words. She wonders how it feels to burn to death. She wonders if his poor brother will be okay.
Philip's blood feels like ice. He can’t doubt himself now, not after he’s come this far. Not when there is still so much to do. His opponent is only a silouhette against the flames, curling in on itself pathetically. He can't indulge the pity or the grief. It's too late for that, now. “You’re not human,” he mutters desperately instead, shaking his head, “Not anymore.” The figure staggers, struggling to hold itself upright. His dread and panic, allowed a tiny foothold, now refuse to release him; Philip feels himself teetering on the edge of sickening, unbearable uncertainty.
Eager to drag him deeper into terror are the hundreds of grating, childlike voices that swiftly flood his mind. They bury all coherent thought under a shrill cacaphony of accusation and animal distress. Philip feels his muscles slithering painfully beneath his skin, spasming more violently when he reflexively tenses them, only ceasing after they’re stretched taut by aching, malformed bones. He shifts his weight, fighting the burden of his own greusome anatomy.
A round, golden mask snaps loudly beneath his heel, and he lurches backward, into an unseen abyss.
Too shocked to control the transformation, with nothing to support his weight, Philip falls backward--
In two very different places on the Boiling Isles, Signey Shale and Emperor Belos jolt awake from a nightmare.
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LoZ Theory - Hylia = Amaterasu, But What Does That Mean?
Now, this theory is mostly just for fun, okay? So, keep that in mind when reading this.
Anyway, I'm sure that we've all realized to some degree that Hylia has some very obvious parallels to Amaterasu of Shintoist theology. At least, thematically speaking.
However, that brings into question as to who would take on the thematic roles of Tsukuyomi & Susano-o?
Interestingly, Hyrule itself doesn't really seem to have any gods of the moon & while wind & sky & even water gods have appeared throughout the games, the only one who you could feasibly refer to as a "storm god" really wasn't up to the same level as Hylia & I'd thus argue that he couldn't really be called a Susano-o parallel.
However, there was 1 divine entity that did appear in at least 1 game & had cameos in a couple of others. One that appears to bear some sort of connection to the moon.
The Fierce Deity. (Yes, he is actually, canonically, a Kishin, who are known for being compassionate protectors despite their viciousness in battle, however, I'm talking thematic roles here & therefore, he doesn't need to be a perfect representation of Tsukuyomi. At the same time, Hylia doesn't just parallel Amaterasu, but in some ways Danu, an Irish mother goddess, & even Christ to a degree. So, I don't understand why FD couldn't also have multiple influences.)
Not to mention, did you know that wolves, rabbits, & fairies all have some sort of connection to the moon? Like, I'm sure most of us know the wolf connection, but also there's the legend of the Jade Rabbit & I remember reading somewhere that the full moon was a portal to the realm of the fae. So, even in that respect, the Links still have some faint connections to the moon.
But if Hylia = Amaterasu & Fierce Deity = Tsukuyomi, then that still leaves Susano-o's Hyrulean mirror.
However, maybe we can figure this out by working through the game characters that Hylia & FD are most associated with, which are Zelda & Link.
And, as I'm guessing you're realizing, they too have a third: Ganondorf. And what seemingly divine entity is he most associated with?
The Bringer of Demise. Who happens to call down lightning in battle, as does Ganondorf. You could even make an argument about how his hatred could mirror the indiscriminant destructive power of a storm. Natural disasters, if you will.
Now, what I find interesting is what this implies about the 3 Hyrulean divinities in question. Because Susano-o had fallen from grace & been cursed into the body of a mortal for his misdeeds until he earned back his spot among the gods.
Is it possible that Demise had also been a true deity before committing some act that caused him to be cast out & become an... Akuma?
In fact, one of the things Susano-o did to get thrown out was that he destroyed his sister's crops. Specifically, it appears that he & Amaterasu both had 3 rice fields each, but whereas her fields were fertile, his were dry & barren, which in his jealousy, he destroyed her fields. (Which, itself, creates a bit of an interesting parallel between not just Susano-o's relationship with Amaterasu & Demise's with Hylia in SS, but also between the godly siblings & Ganondorf's relationship with just Hyrule, in-general. At least, if you trust WW Gdorf's words.)
One possible issue I see is a bit of discrepancy in the myths. In some depictions, it's Susano-o who kills Ōgetsuhime after his banishment, but in others, it's Tsukuyomi who kills Ukemochi. Which are simply 2 different names for the same goddess. Not only that, it was for the same reason. In order to serve them food, she produced it via some very unsanitary means, so they killed her for it.
As for Tsukuyomi, he seems to be regarded as an evil god, but at the same time, he only seems to appear in 2 myths. The myth of he & his siblings' birth & the myth of him killing Ukemochi.
Beyond that, personality wise, Tsukuyomi was described as cold & reserved, as well as having been noted to value things such as order, justice, & etiquette a great deal, to the point where it's said that he was willing to kill to maintain it despite murder not being condoned. In this way, he's seen as violent. Which could well fit with Fierce Deity, considering his portrayal as a Kishin with a few tweaks.
On the other hand, FD is referred to as a Kishin, which are inspired by the Buddhist Pāla or Protectors, a.k.a. Wrathful Gods. And though they are fearsome in battle & terrifying to behold, one of their core qualities is that they are compassionate, ultimately benevolent, & visit just vengeance upon those who wrong the innocent.
However, the only reason for Tsukuyomi being referred to as an evil god was his murder of Ukemochi. So, how does it change his character in a situation where the one to do so was instead his brother?
Are there other things he's done? It doesn't seem like it, which kinda paints Amaterasu in a not-so-great light considering how Susano-o does a lot more terrible things, yet later, she still forgives him.
Hell, remember he basically commits the exact same crime as Tsukuyomi. So, why is it that Susanoo gets a pass despite all the other shit he did, but Tsukuyomi doesn't despite technically having only 1 mess-up?
Is it because he hasn't apologized yet? Because he didn't get her some super powerful gift? Honestly, it makes me wonder what Amaterasu's reaction to Ukemochi's hostess skills & how she produced the food would've been.
Furthermore, either Tsukuyomi killed Ukemochi, Susano-o killed Ōgestuhime, or Tsukuyomi killed her, she revived, & then Susano-o killed her again later.
In the case of the last one, it brings to question why she hadn't learned her lesson? At that point, she only has herself to blame.
However, it's also possible that the story of night & day & Susano-o killing Ōgetsuhime could possibly be one in the same, just told from 2 different perspectives. Keep in mind that Susano-o was able to transform a woman into a comb even after being banished. It wouldn't be too farfetched to assume that he could transform himself as well. Hell, shouldn't taking on the visage of another person theoretically be much easier than literally turning another person into an inanimate object?
If I'm right, then the situation would unfold like this: Susano-o was banished, Ukemochi held a feast & invited Amaterasu, she couldn't come & sent Tsukuyomi instead, Susano-o heard of Ukemochi's grand feast, & took on his brother's appearance. Susanoo-o as Tsukuyomi asked Ukemochi to provide him with food, then upon seeing how she did so, he killed her before leaving, & that's when Tsukuyomi came upon the scene. However, this left Tsukuyomi to be blamed for her death because other partygoers witnessed the not-Tsukuyomi's crime, which resulted in Amaterasu & the real Tsukuyomi separating, thus creating day & night. (Not that this is actually what happened in myth, but it's just a thought.)
However, even if he did do it, if this was the only instance of Tsukuyomi behaving in such a manner, then it honestly seems very unfair to have him automatically slighted as evil.
Though, what I find interesting is that if my interpretation of the story were correct, then it'd somewhat create another parallel between Tsukuyomi & FD. The misconception that dark automatically means evil, which has led to both being demonized. In FD's case, pretty literally due to unfortunate translation association.
Sorry, I just found this possibility to be very freaking interesting.
LoZ Cultural Masterlist 1
#legend of zelda#loz#hylia#fierce deity#demise#zelda#link#ganondorf#shinto myth#amaterasu#tsukuyomi#susanoo
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marigolds
It's October! For half the hemisphere, the nights are getting longer, the wind is getting colder and the weather is taking on a distinct grey and overcast mood. What better time than now to steal a few last bursts of brilliant, warm sunshine and keep them close against the coming of winter?
Enter October's flower (one of them) - the marigold.
An interesting thing I found while researching this month's flower was that its native to the Americas - and yet some sites list the ancient Greeks and Romans having traditions surrounding the marigold. One of the sites even mentions the flower being introduced to the 'Americas' several sentences after telling me its native to Mexico. I think some of the confusion may come from the fact that there are marigolds of the Tagetes genus, which are the ones I think of when I think of marigolds, that were first mentioned by the Aztecs and are native to the Americas - and there is a flower, Calendula officinalis, called the 'pot marigold' which comes from the same daisy family but is a different genus and seems to originate in southern Europe. To add to the confusion, the Spanish imported the Tagetes marigold from the Americas and from Spain it spread to, particularly, monastery gardens across Europe where it was cultivated into various strains with names like the African or French marigold. The American marigold didn't even have an official genus name until 1753. So, sorting through marigold myths was a lot like playing 'guess which twin it is' for me especially since the majority of the sites I was wandering through either weren't aware of a difference or didn't differentiate. I found one site that marked the difference between them (shout out to growingvale.com). I can understand why. We're only talking flower folklore here, not nuclear codes. My little nitpicky soul though just wasn't happy until it figured out what was going on. I am now going to spew facts at you and try to tell you which flower is which for each of them.
We'll see how I do.
Let's start at the beginning.
Tagetes marigolds were first recorded as being cultivated by the Aztecs, who considered them both medicinal and sacred. That tradition has carried over into Mexico's el Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, which is celebrated either in late October or Early November depending on the region. How much of that is straight from the Aztecs and how much is later European influence via Catholicism is still up for debate but the marigold plays a special part in both. The brightness and strong scent of the marigold flowers are believed to help guide the spirits of the dead to their family and to the offerings left out for them. You watched Disney's Coco (or Fox's The Book of Life), you get it. The Day of the Dead is celebrated outside of Mexico as well, with traditions varying from place to place but right now, we're talking marigolds.
In a half step to the side of that, the Victorians also considered marigolds a funeral flower but in a solemn and grief-filled way that made their cheery color inappropriate for any other kind of bouquet.
In South Asia, the Tagetes marigold has in large part replaced Calendula officinalis marigold while still serving the same purpose. There marigolds are used to create garlands and decorations for weddings, festivals and sacred holidays. Both Buddhism and Hinduism attach spiritual significance to the flowers. In India, giving a garland of marigolds to someone is considered a sign of friendship.
Walking it back to our Calendula officinalis marigold, the common name of 'marigold' is actually a break down of 'Mary's gold'. The golden colored plant was often left on alters and shrines to the Virgin Mary in Catholic countries in the middle ages by people that couldn't afford to leave actual coins. Its bright sunshine color and availability to everyone soon became associated with her.
This is the marigold that the ancient Romans and Greeks used medicinally and that medieval Europe thought was a cure against the plague. This is also the marigold that was woven into garlands for doors and livestock in Ireland to keep away fairy attention.
Both branches of flowers are popular with love superstitions, representing never having to lose a love and as a good luck charm when it comes to love.
And let's round things off with a gardening fact. Marigold are considered excellent companion plants for most vegetable gardens because they repel pests from the big to the very tiny kind. Just check before you plant. Their roots also give off an antibacterial chemical that will wreck havoc on your legumes.
Happy birthday, October babies!
#marigold#marigolds#folklore#superstition#cottagecore#herbalism#herbology#october#birth flower#day of the dead#dia de los muertos#dia de muertos#right up there with#dandelions#as a sunshine flower#flowers#language of flowers#meaning of flowers
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I hate Percy Jackson.
I hate the plot that is, and many MANY parts of it. Now that’s not to say the actors are bad or anything, in fact I think they’re incredible. I haven’t watched the show or read the books but from the clips I’ve seen those actors are amazing and deserve respect and praise. But I am going to go over everything I have against the show in this mini essay of mine.
Like the show and want to counter my points? Feel free to! Leave a comment, reblog with your response, send an ask, all is welcome! I may think very strongly on my points but that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to hear others out, but please welcome my response as well (also anon is on so if you have thoughts but don’t really feel confident sharing them on your account you can send by anon instead, still gonna get answered and no judgement passed :) )
NOW! ONTO MY RAMBLINGS!
First of all, Athena. As someone whose name is literally ‘athena-rocks’ I’m sure you can guess that I feel very passionately about this and have a lot to say.
The first thing I want to bring up is the whole child thing. Athena is a virgin goddess why does she have a child? From what I understand Annabeth is born from her mind, as in thought. Which is immensely stupid. The only account of asexual reproduction I can think of is Hera and the birth of Hephaestus, but even then she had a pregnancy and he was born, he didn’t just show up?? The only being I can think of that just pop up is Chaos, who is seen as both a God and a thing, it is, it’s primordial, so are Athena’s children in this also primordial? No they’re demigods.
Also the idea that Athena just abandons her children? No! There’s literally a myth that directly opposes it! Erichthonius!
Erichthonius is the first king of Athens, before Athens got super amazing and awesome and totally cool and really popular and thus got the totally cool founding myth of Athena vs Poseidon. He was born after Hephaestus tried to assault Athena, he’s autochthonous meaning born of the earth. Some of Hephaestus’s… seed, got onto Athena’s thigh, she wiped it off and threw it to the earth as she ran away and Erichthonius is born.
Now Athena has no obligation to this child, it’s not hers in any form, it came from the man who tried to assault her, yet she still chooses to look after and raise the child! There! She has no reason to do this but does, so why she would abandon the children that she does have an obligation to?
And by all accounts I can find Erichthonius had a good childhood, he’s half snake creature thing and when the daughters of Cecrops (who Athena had given Erichthonius to with him in a basket and told them not to open it while she did something) saw him and were horrified Athena either drove them mad so they killed themselves or dropped a mountain she was carrying in rage. So she cares about him.
Now, the Medusa thing.
Medusa was a monster, the original Greek myth she was always a monster. I understand the appeal of a woman who can defend herself from any man who would dare harm her by just glaring at them, but can’t she just have always been that? Can’t she have just always been a powerful monster who can always protect herself? I’m mostly upset at the Medusa thing in this context because I’ve seen people shipping her with Athena, which is weird as Athena is not only a virgin goddess but a mythological figure who was and in some sense still is worshipped to this day.
There are myths that also actively oppose this, when Cassandra was raped Athena was so furious she drive lesser Ajax mad so he killed himself and for 1000 years they had to send maidens to become Athena’s priestesses to appease her. But Medusa being raped by Poseidon, someone who she’s been known to have beef with? No. Fuck her.
AND ARES!!
Ares who killed someone for harassing his daughter, Ares who is the only God to have never assaulted someone, A BAD FATHER?? A CRUEL MAN??? Anger issues? Sure! I can accept that! But bad father? No.
I think the PJO series just hates the idea of war God’s being good parents and it shows.
I’ll end here, but if anyone would like to add on to this post or argue against me please feel free to. Just don’t be an asshole, I’m fine to discuss peacefully I’m not fine with just being flat out attacked.
Thank you for reading!
#ancient greek#athena#greek mythology#tagamemnon#percy jackson#hephaestus#ares#ares pjo#hera goddess#hera#annabeth chase#percy and annabeth#I have no hate to the actors#I’d like to repeat that#they’re very good at what they do and so is everyone that worked on that show#I’m sure the writer is also pretty good but I won’t act like I know who they are so I’m not gonna talk on them
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I can definitely see villains avoiding Flug if it means attracting Goldheart's attention during schemes while others actively try to use it to their advantage.
Villain trying to escape?
Throw something related to Flug on the other side of the street and book it like some would throw a wallet in a mugging.
A picture, phone number, limited merchandise of Flug that Blackhat specifically made only for villain access to throw at GH, a pair of socks that Demencia stole and sold for fun, literally anything.
Golden boi would be zooming.
There's a chance they might not escape but it definitely increases those chances.
The idea that villain merch exists and goldheart trying his best to get it and failing is absolutely hilarious.
@ghostdoodlen
This absolutely is hilarious, 😂.
Villainous Fanfic: GoldHeart developed an addiction to collecting Flug merch and stuff as an unhealthy coping mechanism after he lost his Arch-Nemesis and the photos of his face.
He is in complete denial and says that he doesn't have a hoarding problem if anyone asks, convincing himself that it's for "research purposes".
But he would be zooming like a "golden retriever" if anyone gives him any Flug related thing like his new phone number and sock.
I kinda imagine BlackHat realizes the Villainous Gang are somewhat popular, but not as popular as him, (especially after that Vuala figurine and keychain giveaway) so he decides to profit from this for awhile by releasing action figures only for Black Hat Organization Members, and comes out with new designs and special limited edition ones.
GoldHeart is extremely frustrated because the only way he can get the Flug action figures is to literally sell his soul which is definitely a no-no.
So he would definitely go after the toys if a Villain has it even if it were for an obvious distraction but would then proceed to beat up the Villains for having the audacity to distract him.
Some Villains even try to bribe GoldHeart with Flug limited edition action figures. He would pretend to agree and take the toys then proceed to betray them then beat up the Villains for having the audacity to bribe him.
The Flug action figure GoldHeart wants the most is the rarest "Flug in GoldHeart's costume" action figure.
It's a prototype April Fools edition, where the Villainous Gang is dressed up as heroes.
It's also nearly impossible to find and it's not even in circulation.
GoldHeart would have thought it was a myth or an April Fools prank if he didn't see the promo ad live in The Black Hat Organization website one month in advance before it was wiped out completely from the dark web.
The reason for its rarity is because even though it's for an April Fools joke, BlackHat finds him and his henchman dressing up as heroes disgusting. As a result the promo was removed from the BHO website and mass production of the April Fools toys we're shut down. (BlackHat also tortured the person who thought of the idea).
So only one prototype from the ad exists
...and guess who has it.
When Flug finds out, he pretends to be appalled and not like the action figure. But secretly thought it was cool, and keeps the prototype in his desk drawer in his plane-house.
When the Golden Rule Members infiltrate the Black Hat Manor to gather information about the Villains and steal confiscate any cool dangerous items which can be used for evil if they have time while Black Hat and the Villainous Gang are out.
GoldHeart was extremely ecstatic to find the most prized action figure and last item to complete his collection and proceeds to yoink the item and put it the most safe place, his outer underwear (because P.E.A.C.E. made that part of the uniform nearly indestructible as Villains have a habit of kicking heroes in the crotch)
The action figure also didn't stand out because it was small enough not to be obvious.
Just when they were about to leave, the Villainous Gang came back early, fortunately without BlackHat as he had additional business to attend to and they fought. But the heroes managed to get away.
Flug checked the damage from the fight and looked around the manor to see if anything had been stolen and much to his shock his "Flug in GoldHeart's costume" action figure was missing.
This was confirmed when GoldHeart took a picture of the "Flug in GoldHeart's costume" action figure next to his own action figure made by P.E.A.C.E and sent to Flug's new phone number (which Flug had no idea where GoldHeart got) from with the caption "Matching ☺️".
Flug out of revenge for GoldHeart stealing his stuff, breaking into Hat Manor, and finding out that Flug kept that embarrassing action figure of himself in GoldHeart's costume and continues to tease him relentless for it when ever he sees him, requested the creative team to design an "GoldHeart dressed in Flug's clothes" action figure and release it to the public.
But it had an opposite effect for GoldHeart as he immediately afterwards sent an image with both of their action figures to Flug with the caption "Costume Swap 😉", much to Flug's incredible frustration.
#villainous#villanos#dr flug#dr kenning flugslys#goldheart#gold heart#herbert leth#flug#villainous blackhat#black hat#black hat organization#villainous fanfic#dr flug and goldheart are not brothers
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A persona au idea I've been playing with for a while is a wildcard akechi au where he gets a persona for every confidant he has.
Still debating whether he gets them just after forming the confidant or at rank 10 because I want Loki to be his devil confidant and shidos one but to get to rank 10 he'd probably need Loki in the first place. Robin hood is his first persona similar to Arsene or orpheus
Also he absolutely gets a new outfit per persona I want to dress him up (I have deemed this the magical girl akechi au mentally due to that( I also think he'd also have several interactions with the thieves while in different costumes)
Anyways actual persona ideas I have for him.
Pinocchio is a big one, I'm not sure if theres actually a pinocchio persona in any of the games but I figure it fits what personas tend to be based off really well and like. The Themes are so peak. Not sure what confidant I'd actually relate it back to though. The star perhaps?
I think sherlock could also work as one since jokers persona is Arsene lupin (or herlock? I actually havent read the lupin books yet so I know more about normal sherlock) i can also just see akechi not enjoying having sherlock as a persona at all, too stereotypical in his eyes. Probably from saes confidant? (If this were to be a full fledged au I'd probably make ocs for him to have confidants with)
Those are my two main ideas but I also think giving him a persona based off of Christian myth could be neat but I'd have to do more research. And giving him a persona of the greek goddess nemesis is also a idea I like but again I'd have to do more research
Some silly lil extra persona ideas I'm iffy on are doing one based off Jekyll and hyde because the themes just fit him very well (if anyone's actually reading this in the books Jekyll very much is just one person who uses the persona of hyde to let out any dark desires look if Arsene lupin can become a persona so can he)
The snow queen or the boy from the snow queen (basically the snow queen is the force of snow and cold, nature given a face. She fits more as a persona but less for akechi. While the boy is a kind little boy who when two shards of a evil mirror fall into his eye and heart it makes him both see the world as ugly and it freezes his heart. Eventually hes kidnapped by the ice queen and becomes her servant I guess?? Hes basically her pet in the literal sense) this would be his hermit persona I'd imagine.
Not sure what his fool (akira) one would be. I could keep it as hereward just change it to it's own being instead of a fusion? And with a funky new outfit of course
Anyways that's all! Nice to get some of this written down
#persona 5#persona 5 royal#goro akechi#i speak#magical girl akechi au#(just in case i ever post more on it)#Anyways if you see this and are interested please talk to me about it dm me send me a ask comment
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