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mariposahxh · 1 year

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TOGASHI CREATED KILLUGON BASED ON A ROMANTIC COUPLE FROM THE ROMCOM HE WROTE !!

Did you know Togashi created a romantic comedy manga back in 1989? He always talked about liking shojo and romance but it’s not very known that he actually wrote one! (this is about killugon i promise keep reading)

title : Ten de Shōwaru Cupid

disclaimer : it’s nsfw and kinda gross (MINORSDON’TREADIT) but i’m not showing or talking about any of those nsfw things in this post so don’t worry!

It was never officially licensed so there’s no released English translation.

Very vaguely, the story is about Ryuji and Maria, the main romantic couple (pictured above) . It’s sorta a “ friends to lovers “ situation… in it’s own way.

Anyway, there’s one scene that started this whole discovery. Ryuji and Maria essentially go on a star gazing date. (yakwtfgo)

a few panels from the scene :

Star gazing. Shooting star. Deep conversation.

Doesn’t that sound familiar?

But wait, it also LOOKS familiar.

losing my mind bc ohmygoddd togashi ur so insane for this.

hell, even the set up and light/dark scheme is similar.

1989 : Togashi creates a star gazing date between the protagonist and deuteragonist of his shojo.

1998 : Togashi creates a star gazing date between the protagonist and deuteragonist of his shonen.

it took him ten years to make it gay

There’s more :

As we all know, Killua has electric powers. He has one move in particular called “ 落雷 “ (thunderbolt/lightning strike)

Coincidentally, Maria from the romcom ALSO has electric powers. Not just any electric power though, she has a move called “ 落雷 “ (thunderbolt/lightning strike)

Deuteragonists with electric powers and a thunderbolt move.

What’s next? Maria also being immune to poison just like Killua?

Exactly.

Miss Maria over here is the OG “ i’m immune to poison ” character. She drinks the poison from the snake to hide her demon tail (wild plot ik)

—

(( 4/27 update : i was just reminded of how Killua has that snake awaken thing with his aura hhhhhhomg

when they’re both associated with snakes ))

—

So, a deuteragonist who is strongly devoted to the protagonist, in love with the protagonist, immune to poison, has lightning powers, uses a move called "thunderbolt", and has been on a stargazing date with their protagonist.

It’s almost as if… Maria was Togashi’s blueprint for Killua.

This next portion isn’t as big but they’re just little situations that gave me deja vu :

Here we have the classic jealousy situation when a “romantic rival” enters the story.

- Stalking as they talk by a tree.

- Fuming with anger as something affectionate happens between them.

- Fleeing when the current situation became too much to handle. (in killua’s case he left to go fight a rabbit but still. yk he wasn’t about to stick around for what came next😭)

And there’s also the way they bump heads and bicker with each other like a married couple.

i’m sure there’s more similarities and hxh inspo in the story but i don’t feel like rereading and translating it all

In conclusion :

This means that from the very beginning, Togashi intentionally coded Gon and Killua from a romantic couple. KilluGon is the recreated/reimagined version of Ryuji and Maria (a pure and sfw and gay version)

goated behavior tbh

#killugon propaganda #killugon #killugon canon #hunter x hunter gay #killugon stays winning #killugon supremacy #killugon solos #killugon solos ur fav #killugon is real #Gon and Killua gay #togashi loves gay manga #if they’re not gay then why did togashi write them like that #killugon parallel

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monster-d0ll · 1 year

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mh g3 , witches + more

i will address deuce , manny , iris , cupid , casta fierce and spelldon to make the following analysis

so , a few things to dissect (tw : discussions of greek myths , including mentions of rape , bestiality)

In “Nightmare Nightmore” Deuce and Manny are leaving at the start of the episode , chanting “party like the greek gods”. Their mere existence indicates that greek myths are more than just tales, that there are greek gods in the mh world (we know this). However , egyptian gods and christian supernatural beings (heath’s dad) are too present in the mh canon , posing the existence of egregors , and i personally interpret this through the lens of absurdism . Anyways , these gods clearly do interact in a tangible manner with the “solid world” , be it due to devotion or whatnot , deuce and manny and iris are proof of how tangible these gods’ actions can be. However , these are the children of cursed (for lack of a better word) entities in greek mythology :

the origin of medusa varies, whether she was a priestess who was raped by poseidon and cursed by athena afterwards (as a case of victim-blaming , though some interpret this as a gift rather than a curse , giving her the power to liberate herself from her victimhood) as per Ovid (though depictions of her as a “beautiful maiden” predate the poet) , medusa is otherwise one of three gorgon sisters , daughters of Phorcys and Ceto (otherwise Gorgon and Ceto as per Hyginus) , daughters of two (or even just one) sea god[s] , they have god lineage. Assuming Deuce’s origins are that of the latter interpretation , he is at the very least a demigod ;

the minotaur is too a creature that resulted from poseidon’s involvement , he who gifted a snow white bull to Minus , who was to sacrifice the bull to honour the god , but decided instead to keep him , and so poseidon made Pasiphaë (minus’ wife) to fall in love with the bull , and mate … resulting in the minotaur who had no source of nourishment and so devoured humans for sustenance. Minus had Daedalus, per Delphi’s advice, build a labyrinth to hold the minotaur. In mh lore , g1 and g3 , minotaurs are good at mazes , though g1 manny isn’t , g3 Manny is exceptionally good at them. In any case , they both allude to this whole godly dispute that resulted in their kind ;

the cyclops has some godly lineage , being descendants of uranus and gaia , two of the “greek primordial deities” , who “produced eighteen children” , three of whom were cyclopes , who , alongside their siblings were imprisoned deep within gaia by uranus who despised his monstrous children, but cronus castrated him and became the ruler of the cosmos , however he did not release his brothers , and as gaia foretold , he was overthrown by his children , who he kept imprisoned in his belly , except for zeus who rhea managed to protect and who “forced his father to vomit his siblings” and too released the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires. The Cyclopes’ great weapon was the thunderbolt, and they gave it to zeus to aid in overthrowing the titans. So , theoretically , Iris too has god lineage and her kind has been at the mercy of godlike creatures ;

this is to say , all their individual lineages have dealt with affairs with the gods , though arguably Manny stands out , being the one without godly lineage , what they all have in common is that they are all the kids of entities that have been antagonised, vilified and outright defined as monstrous, thus making them monsters. So , i wonder , is this what separates them from the kids of other gods , or does their godlike status add to their monster status ? do gods inherently hold monstrous attributes ? or is this a distinction amongst them ?

I ask this , to pose the question: how does Cupid fit into the picture ? and subsequently , how does Casta and Spelldon fit into the picture as the kids of Circe ?

These are characters that are yet to appear in g3 , however they fit in just well in g1 Monster High , and their existence overlapped with Ever After High (ie. C.A. Cupid) , regardless , one could argue that the public perception of their being plays a role in whether they’re seen as monsters or not , so why and how is Cupid a monster ? And what exactly makes Casta and Spelldon monsters ? In g1 , they had monstrous aesthetics , however , in g3 , magic can be practiced my humans and monsters , their status is interstitial and i wonder if their monstrous nature stems from them having godly lineage ? And is their monstrous nature the result of public perception ? If so , again , how and why is Cupid a monster ?

Cupid , daughter of Eros , god of love and its various forms , otherwise a primordial god and personification of love. Eros was celebrated and worshipped throughout history , so what exactly grants Cupid her monster status ? Is it simply the fact that she isn’t human ? She is the adopted daughter of Eros , so one could argue , given mh lore , considering she doesn’t know her biological roots , that she is a monster who follows “her adoptive father's footsteps as an arbiter of love and is specialized in the dealings of relationships”. This poses the question whether these gods are their own kind of entities or if their actions are what grant them their status . Cupid’s story also demystifies these gods , as she was “found on the doorsteps of the Cupid household as a baby” which frames them as much more integrated to common folk society. And as for whether gods are their own kind of entities or not , and whether their powers are inherent to godlike entities or not , considering Cupid possesses the ability to “analyse the powers of other love derived monsters , such as emotional vampires”, as well as love related powers she can wield without her arrow but with her hands alone (as seen in Ever After High) , one could argue it is about the actions and not so much what kind of creature they are. However an Ever After High narrator referred to her as a cherub , perhaps loosely , though it could indicate what kind of creature she is , and once again rehash the question , what makes her a monster ? and is her monster nature derived from her not being a human ? also , she is a bone elemental , at least to some extent , and this is possibly derived from eros becoming phanes , prompting whether she was granted these powers through supernatural means and she doesn’t innately hone these abilities , and if so , what kind of creature is she ? or is she in actuality a bone elemental who was granted the rest of the previously mentioned powers as heritage from her adoptive family ?

Casta and Spelldon, children of Circe , an enchantress and goddess. G3 poses magic as something anyone could practice , though witchcraft is more popular amongst humans, , it is a universal craft , and so her only non-human attribute would be her god status , once again hashing the question , is a godly status innately monstrous ? Is it enough to be considered a monster , or is it an interstitial state that is neither human or monster ? Does that state lean into monster nature ? If their god status is but a rank , then how would g3 interpret their monster nature ? The thing is , as previously mentioned , the reason Deuce , Manny and Iris are monsters is because thats what their lineage has been dubbed out to be , because no average child of a god has attended monster high , Cupid being an exception considering her uncertain origins , but its only the children of those creatures that have been vilified in history that are in monster high. So is public perception what makes Casta and Spelldon monsters ? And does their godly status or lineage aesthetically morph them into monster-like creatures ?

Let me know what you think , im seriously curious how g3’s iteration of Casta and Spelldon will look like , and whether their god lineage will be addressed directly , and if they are to have a monstrous aesthetic , i wonder if its going to be attributed to the other parent .

#monster high #monster high g3 #monster high witchcraft #monster high analysis #mh analysis #deuce gorgon #manny taur #iris clops #ca cupid #mh cupid #casta fierce #spelldon cauldronello #draculaura #mh #mh g3 #my mh hcs

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themoonfrog · 9 days

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Apollo & the Muses

The god of sun, light, music, poetry, and art: Artemis’s twin Apollo! I’m sure that most people are aware that these are the things he is most well known for, especially when it comes to the sun and light, but did you know he was also a god of deadly plagues, prophecy, and archery? After his mother was cursed by Hera due to Zeus having yet another affair, Leto was forced to birth him on the island of Delos since it didn’t connect to any main lands. He is a god with an athletic and youthful build, meaning he doesn’t sport any facial hair (or has very little). He has another name, referred to as his forename, and that name is Phoebus after his grandmother, Phoebe, who was a titan. Though his name is the same in both Greek and Roman mythology, the things he rules over have different focuses; for example, in Roman mythology, it’s emphasized that he is the god of healing and prophecy whereas in Greek mythology he’s the god of sun and light. As mentioned in the beginning of this post, Apollo could bring deadly plagues just as much as he could heal people; in fact, there’s a story where he plagued Greek bases during the Trojan war, a war in which he also killed Achilles. Apollo was a highly praised god who brought great amounts of joy to Olympus through music and magic which he engaged in with his friends, the muses. The muses were nine goddesses known for their inspirational art and music that also judged certain competitions involving Apollo. There was one such competition where a mortal claimed to be more musically inclined than Apollo, so he was challenged and lost when the muses declared Apollo more gifted. This resulted in the mortal, a satyr named Marsyas, in being skinned alive as punishment; his skin was then nailed to a pine tree. Another fact about Apollo is that Hermes is his half brother, and the music Apollo plays, is played on a lyre made for him by Hermes. The lyre is one of Apollo’s many symbols; his others include animals such as dolphins and swan, plants such as the laurel tree (which became a status symbol), bow and arrow, and the sun! He also had many offspring, the most well known being Asclepius and Orpheus, and a romantic relationship with a nymph named Daphne. After being hit with an arrow from zeros (Cupid), Apollo fell in love with a Nymph named Daphne, who I’ll elaborate on in another post. His son Orpheus inherited Apollo’s music skills, while Asclepius had his skills of healing and medicine which were taught to man. Something else Apollo is known for is killing the cyclops who made Zeus’s thunderbolts in retaliation to Zeus killing his son, Asclepius. Dating back to 5th century BC, it is said that Apollo is closely linked with Nyx’s son, Helios, but that’s as far back as that relation goes. He was a major inspiration to many Greeks and Romans; so much so, a mortal ruler named Octavian claimed Apollo as a patron and had a temple constructed for and dedicated to him. Speaking of temples, Naxos is a sacred site of Apollo’s, where the massive doorway of a once great temple may still stand!

Sources:

Greekgodsandgoddesses.net

Worldhistory.org/apollo

thecollector.com

#apollo #artemis #greek gods #muses #nine muses #ancient greek #greek mythology #greece #greek history

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myclippings · 4 months

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The Four Loves - C.S. Lewis (Part 8)

23 December 2023 15:22:50 to 23:29:45

"The stereotyped ‘Don’t mention it’ here expresses what we really feel. The mark of perfect Friendship is not that help will be given when the pinch comes (of course it will) but that, having been given, it makes no difference at all. It was a distraction, an anomaly. It was a horrible waste of the time, always too short, that we had together. Perhaps we had only a couple of hours in which to talk and, God bless us, twenty minutes of it has had to be devoted to affairs!"

"(We all appear as dunces when feigning an interest in things we care nothing about.)"

"It was wonderful when we first met someone who cared for our favourite poet. What we had hardly understood before now took clear shape. What we had been half ashamed of we now freely acknowledged. But it was no less delightful when we first met someone who shared with us a secret evil. This too became far more palpable and explicit; of this too, we ceased to be ashamed. Even now, at whatever age, we all know the perilous charm of a shared hatred or grievance."

"Alone among unsympathetic companions, I hold certain views and standards timidly, half ashamed to avow them and half doubtful if they can after all be right. Put me back among my Friends and in half an hour—in ten minutes—these same views and standards become once more indisputable. The opinion of this little circle, while I am in it, outweighs that of a thousand outsiders: as Friendship strengthens, it will do this even when my Friends are far away. For we all wish to be judged by our peers, by the men ‘after our own heart’. Only they really know our mind and only they judge it by standards we fully acknowledge. Theirs is the praise we really covet and the blame we really dread."

"Men who have real Friends are less easy to manage or ‘get at’; harder for good Authorities to correct or for bad Authorities to corrupt."

"But the habit of ‘not giving a damn’ grows on a class. To discount the voice of the peasant where it really ought to be discounted makes it easier to discount his voice when he cries for justice or mercy. The partial deafness which is noble and necessary encourages the wholesale deafness which is arrogant and inhuman."

"Everyone who is not in the circle must be shown that he is not in it. Indeed the Friendship may be ‘about’ almost nothing except the fact that it excludes."

"For then it will seem to us that we—we four or five—have chosen one another, the insight of each finding the intrinsic beauty of the rest, like to like, a voluntary nobility; that we have ascended above the rest of mankind by our native powers. The other loves do not invite the same illusion. Affection obviously requires kinships or at least proximities which never depended on our own choice. And as for Eros, half the love songs and half the love poems in the world will tell you that the Beloved is your fate or destiny, no more your choice than a thunderbolt, for ‘it is not in our power to love or hate’. Cupid’s archery, genes—anything but ourselves. But in Friendship, being free of all that, we think we have chosen our peers."

"The Friendship is not a reward for our discrimination and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each the beauties of all the others. They are no greater than the beauties of a thousand other men; by Friendship God opens our eyes to them. They are, like all beauties, derived from Him, and then, in a good Friendship, increased by Him through the Friendship itself, so that it is His instrument for creating as well as for revealing. At this feast it is He who has spread the board and it is He who has chosen the guests. It is He, we may dare to hope, who sometimes does,…"

"For it is the very mark of Eros that when he is in us we had rather share unhappiness with the Beloved than be happy on any other terms. Even if the two lovers are mature and experienced people who know that broken hearts heal in the end and can clearly foresee that, if they once steeled themselves to go through the present agony of parting, they would almost certainly be happier ten years hence than marriage is at all likely to make them—even then, they would not part. To Eros all these calculations are irrelevant—just as the coolly brutal judgment of Lucretius is irrelevant to Venus. Even when it becomes clear beyond all evasion that marriage with the Beloved cannot possibly lead to happiness—when it cannot even profess to offer any other life than that of tending an incurable invalid, of hopeless poverty, of exile, or of disgrace—Eros never hesitates to say, ‘Better this than parting. Better to be miserable with her than happy without her. Let our hearts break provided they break together.’ If the voice within us does not say this, it is not the voice of Eros." 11."When this expectation is disappointed they throw the blame on Eros or, more usually, on their partners. In reality, however, Eros, having made his gigantic promise and shown you in glimpses what its performance would be like, has ‘done his stuff’. He, like a godparent, makes the vows; it is we who must keep them. It is we who must labour to bring our daily life into even closer accordance with what the glimpses have revealed. We must do the works of Eros when Eros is not present. This all good lovers know, though those who are not reflective or articulate will be able to express it only in a few conventional phrases about ‘taking the rough along with the smooth’, not ‘expecting too much’, having ‘a little common sense’, and the like. And all good Christian lovers know that this programme, modest as it sounds, will not be carried out except by humility, charity, and divine grace; that it is indeed the whole Christian life seen from one particular angle."

"If you want to see the difference between its contribution and the gardener’s, put the commonest weed it grows side by side with his hoes, rakes, shears, and packet of weed killer; you have put beauty, energy, and fecundity beside dead, sterile things. Just so, our ‘decency and common sense’ show grey and deathlike beside the geniality of love."

"It is dangerous to press upon a man the duty of getting beyond earthly love when his real difficulty lies in getting so far. And it is no doubt easy enough to love the fellow-creature less and to imagine that this is happening because we are learning to love God more, when the real reason may be quite different. We may be only ‘mistaking the decays of nature for the increase of Grace’."

"The rebellious slogan ‘All for love’ is really love’s death warrant (date of execution, for the moment, left blank)."

"The danger of loving our fellow-creatures too little was less present to their minds than that of loving them idolatrously.

"The danger of loving our fellow-creatures too little was less present to their minds than that of loving them idolatrously."

"This is what comes, he says, of giving one’s heart to anything but God. All human beings pass away. Do not let your happiness depend on something you may lose. If love is to be a blessing, not a misery, it must be for the only Beloved who will never pass away."

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

"We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armour. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it."

"It is much to be wished—at least I think so—that we all, at all times, could. We must pray that this gift should be given us."

"Otherwise we shall trouble some who are very much on the right road but alarmed because they cannot feel towards God so warm a sensible emotion as they feel for the earthly Beloved. It is much to be wished—at least I think so—that we all, at all times, could. We must pray that this gift should be given us. But the question whether we are loving God or the earthly Beloved ‘more’ is not, so far as concerns our Christian duty, a question about the comparative intensity of two feelings. The real question is, which (when the alternative comes) do you serve, or choose, or put first? To which claim does your will, in the last resort, yield?"

"We cannot see light, though by light we can see things."

"But Divine Gift-love in the man enables him to love what is not naturally lovable; lepers, criminals, enemies, morons, the sulky, the superior, and the sneering. Finally, by a high paradox, God enables men to have a Gift-love towards Himself. There is of course a sense in which no one can give to God anything which is not already His; and if it is already His, what have you given? But since it is only too obvious that we can withhold ourselves, our wills and hearts, from God, we can, in that sense, also give them."

"What is His by right and would not exist for a moment if it ceased to be His (as the song is the singer’s), He has nevertheless made ours in such a way that we can freely offer it back to Him."

"No sooner do we believe that God loves us than there is an impulse to believe that He does so, not because He is Love, but because we are intrinsically lovable."

"But God also transforms our Need-love for one another, and it requires equal transformation. In reality we all need at times, some of us at most times, that Charity from others which, being Love Himself in them, loves the unlovable. But this, though a sort of love we need, is not the sort we want. We want to be loved for our cleverness, beauty, generosity, fairness, usefulness. The first hint that anyone is offering us the highest love of all is a terrible shock. This is so well recognised that spiteful people will pretend to be loving us with Charity precisely because they know that it will wound us."

"In such a case to receive is harder and perhaps more blessed than to give. But what the extreme example illustrates is universal. We are all receiving Charity. There is something in each of us that cannot be naturally loved. It is no one’s fault if they do not so love it. Only the lovable can be naturally loved. You might as well ask people to like the taste of rotten bread or the sound of a mechanical drill. We can be forgiven, and pitied, and loved in spite of it, with Charity; no other way. All who have good parents, wives, husbands, or children, may be sure that at some times—and perhaps at all times in respect of some one particular trait or habit—they are receiving charity, are loved not because they are lovable but because Love Himself is in those who love them. Thus God, admitted to the human heart, transforms not only Gift-love but Need-love; not only our Need-love of Him, but our Need-love of one another."

"In such a case the Divine Love does not substitute itself for the natural—as if we had to throw away our silver to make room for the gold. The natural loves are summoned to become modes of Charity while also remaining the natural loves they were."

"we get at once a sharp warning that there is something wrong. The moment we attempt to use our faith in the other world for this purpose, that faith weakens. The moments in my life when it was really strong have all been moments when God Himself was central in my thoughts. Believing in Him, I could then believe in Heaven as a corollary. But the reverse process—believing first in reunion with the Beloved, and then, for the sake of that reunion, believing in Heaven, and finally, for the sake of Heaven, believing in God—this will not work. One can of course imagine things. But a self-critical person will soon be increasingly aware that the imagination at work is his own; he knows he is only weaving a fantasy."

"We find thus by experience that there is no good applying to Heaven for earthly comfort. Heaven can give heavenly comfort; no other kind. And earth cannot give earthly comfort either. There is no earthly comfort in the long run."

#c.s. lewis

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tgfree594 · 2 years

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mangabean · 2 years

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Cupid ni Rakurai

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zmaragdos · 2 years

Text

Introduction | A Conversation with Venus

“Be friendly,” I said. “Kindly Mother of twin Cupids.” She turned her expressive eyes back to me, the poet:

“What do you want,” She said. “With me? Certainly by now you celebrate greater things. Surely you don’t have an old wound in your tender heart?”

“You know, Goddess,” I replied. “About the wound.”

She laughed, and immediately cheerful brightness radiated from Her face.

“Hurt or healthy, have I ever abandoned your banner? You are my purpose, you are always in my work. It was appropriate when we played together without guilt in my earliest years. Now a greater track is ground down by our horses: I celebrate the Seasons and their reasons, pulling them from Ancient Calendars. I celebrate the Constellations slipping beneath the Earth and rising again.

“We have come to the fourth month, in which You are most honored: You know, Venus, both the poet and the month to be Yours.”

Moved, She lightly crowned my temples with Venusian myrtle and said: “Finish the work that has been started.”

I understood, and suddenly the reasons for the days were obvious: while She allows me, and while the winds blow, our ship might sail.

Indeed, if any part of the calendar ought to interest you, Caesar, April holds that which might fascinate you. This month was handed down to you by a great ancestor, and became yours thanks to adopted nobility.

The Trojan father knew this, when he wrote out the long year, and he remembers his own ancestors:

And though he dedicated the first lot in the series to Wild Mars, who was the immediate cause for his own life, he later found Venus far back in his family tree, and he decided that She should have the honor of the second month. Having sought the origins of his conception and having unrolled the generations before him, he came right up to his godly relatives.

Doesn’t he know Dardanus, born of Electra, daughter of Atlas? Certainly she slept with Jupiter. His son is Ericthonius; and his is Tros. Continuing this family line, Tros begets Assaracus, and he fathers Capys. Anchises follows, with whom Venus does not disdain to share the name of ‘parent.’ From this union Aeneas was born, who scrupulous religiousness has been noted by the Gods. Through the fires of Troy’s destruction he carried Holy Images, and his father, among other sacred items, on his shoulders. We have come at last to the auspicious name of Julus, through whom Julia touches the Trojan ancestors of her house. The last in this bloodline, who was born in the great forests, was called Silvanius by the Latin clan. And he, Latinus, is your father. Alba follows Latinus: Epytus holds your royal title next, Alba. He gives the recurring Trojan name to his son Capys. And you two, Calpetus, share the same grandfather. While after this Tiberinus was granted his father’s kingdom, it is said he was pulled into the great whirlpool of the Tuscan river and drowned. However, before his death he fathered Agrippa, and even saw his grandson Remulus, who was struck dead by thrown thunderbolts. Aventinus follows these, after whom the place, and also the mountain, is named.

After him the kingdom was surrendered to Procas. Numitor, the elder brother of severe Amulus, followed him. Rhea Silvia and Lausus were conceived by Numitor. Lausus was felled by his uncle’s sword; Rhea Silvia satisfied Mars, and she brought you into the world, Romulus, along with your twin Remus.

He always said his own parents were Venus and Mars, and his words deserved credence. His descendants, about to succeed him, could not be ignorant of their heritage, and so he gifted back-to-back seasons to the Gods of his bloodline.

But, I suppose, the month of Venus was first written down in the Greek language (it is said that the Goddess was born of sea-foam, if you’ve never heard the Marvelous Goddess named in Greek), for, back then, the territory by Italy was Greater Greece.

Evander had come with ships full of his own people, so had Hercules, descendant of Alceus, both of them Greek in origin (the foreign guest, the Club-Bearer, pastured his herd on the Aventine grass; it is with so great a God that you drink the Tiber!), as well as the Ithacan leader, Odysseus. Laestragonians lurked over his witnesses, and still now that shore holds the name of Circe, the Goddess-Witch, and at one time, Telegonus her son by Odysseus. In fact, the walls of the wet Tiber, their stones laid by Greek hands, continue to stand tall.

Halesus had come here, driven by the curse on the descendants of Atreus (the Faliscan nation believes itself to be named after him). Add to the mix Antenor, Troy’s advocate for peace with the Greeks, and your son-in-law Oenides, Apulian Daunus. Later, after Antenor, Aeneas came out of Troy’s destruction, carrying his gods into our regions. One comrade of this group was Solymus, who hailed from Trojan Ida, from whom the walls of Sulmo get their name. He was of frosty Sulmo, of our homeland, Germanicus. I am miserable, how far Sulmo is from this Scythian dirt! I am so far off — but suppress my whining, Muse. Songs should not be played for You on a sorrowful lyre.

Where doesn’t Envy go? There are those who might wish to snatch away the honor of the month from You and who may give You the evil eye, Venus, certainly because Spring uncovers everything. A thick blanket of snow and the severity of coldness disappear, and the fertile soil is exposed. They say April is named after this time of snow-melt and exposure, over which kindly Venus asserts her claim by laying down her hand.

Indeed, Venus, the most worthy, rules the universe. She, the littler royalty, keeps no god, and She gives purpose to the sky, the earth, and the waters that birthed Her. She binds all species together by means of Her own beginning. She created all Gods (there are too many to count); She gives reasons to cultivate the trees. She has collected the unformed souls of men into one, and She has taught them how to connect with their own partners.

How does every type of bird reproduce, if not for delightful pleasure? Cattle wouldn’t come together if not for light love. Even though the fierce ram duals a male rival with his horns, he refrains from hurting the forehead of his beloved ewe. The bull, who shakes entire pastures and every grove, having set aside his ferocity, follows the heifer. That same power lies beneath the broad sea, protecting and filling up the waters with uncountable fish. This first force takes away the wild disposition of people: from it civilizations rose and man became anxious about his appearance. It is said that the first lover, his love having denied him, kept himself awake with song through the night, crooning his ballads at her shut doors. His performance persuaded her obstinate maid, as he argued everything for his own opportunity.

Uncountable works of art have been set in motion by this Goddess; and with enthusiasm those who feel they must please Her utilize many tools, most just discovered, which had previously been unknown.

Would anyone dare to strip this Goddess from the honor of the second month? Keep that madness far away from me, because while Her power extends everywhere, and Her shrines are packed with worshippers, in our City the Goddess holds greater power yet. On behalf of your Troy, Romans, Venus took up weapons, although when She was injured, She lamented Her hand, soft and untrained in war: according to a Trojan judge, She conquered two Celestials. (Oh, don’t let me remember Her defeat here!) It has been said that She was the daughter-in-law of Assaracus, so that, in due time, great Caesar might certainly have Julian ancestors.

Nor is any time more appropriate for Venus than Spring: truly the lands glitter with sprouts, truly the fields are restored, now the tips of grasses and herbs are poking out from cracked earth, now the bough is bursting with new leaf-buds on its swollen bark. And Beautiful Venus is suited to this beautiful time, as She is used to continuing on after Mars Himself: certainly She instructs a curved boat to go through Her maternal sea, no longer afraid of wintery menaces.

—

‘Alma, fave,’ dixi ‘geminorum mater Amorum!’

ad vatem voltus rettulit illa suos:

‘quid tibi’ ait ‘mecum? certe maiora canebas.

num vetus in molli pectore volnus habes?’

‘scis, dea,’ respondi ‘de volnere.’ risit, et aether

protinus ex illa parte serenus erat.

‘saucius an sanus numquid tua signa reliqui?

tu mihi propositum, tu mihi semper opus.

quae decuit, primis sine crimine lusimus annis,

nunc teritur nostris area maior equis:

tempora cum causis annalibus eruta priscis

lapsaque sub terras ortaque signa cano.

venimus ad quartum, quo tu celeberrima mense:

et vatem et mensem scis, Venus, esse tuos.’

mota Cytheriaca leviter mea tempora myrto

contigit et ‘coeptum perfice’ dixit ‘opus.’

sensimus, et causae subito patuere dierum:

dum licet et spirant flamina, navis eat.

Si qua tamen pars te de fastis tangere debet,

Caesar, in Aprili, quo tenearis, habes.

hic ad te magna descendit imagine mensis

et fit adoptiva nobilitate tuus.

hoc pater Iliades, cum longum scriberet annum,

vidit et auctores rettulit ipse suos:

utque fero Marti primam dedit ordine sortem,

quod sibi nascenti proxima causa fuit,

sic Venerem gradibus multis in gente repertam

alterius voluit mensis habere locum;

principiumque sui generis revolutaque quaerens

saecula cognatos venit adusque deos.

Dardanon Electra nesciret Atlantide natum

scilicet, Electram concubuisse Iovi?

huius Erichthonius: Tros est generatus ab illo:

Assaracon creat hic, Assaracusque Capyn.

proximus Anchises, cum quo commune parentis

non dedignata est nomen habere Venus,

hinc satus Aeneas, pietas spectata, per ignes

sacra patremque humeris, altera sacra, tulit,

venimus ad felix aliquando nomen Iuli,

unde domus Teucros Iulia tangit avos.

Postumus hinc, qui quod silvis fuit ortus in altis,

Silvius in Latia gente vocatus erat.

isque, Latine, tibi pater est. subit Alba Latinum:

proximus est titulis Epytus, Alba, tuis.

ille dedit Capyi recidiva vocabula Troiae

et tuus est idem, Calpete, factus avus.

cumque patris regnum post hunc Tiberinus haberet,

dicitur in Tuscae gurgite mersus aquae.

iam tamen Agrippan natum Remulumque nepotem

viderat: in Remulum fulmina missa ferunt,

venit Aventinus post hos, locus unde vocatur,

mons quoque, post illum tradita regna Procae.

quem sequitur duri Numitor germanus Amuli.

Ilia cum Lauso de Numitore sati.

ense cadit patruo Lausus: placet Ilia Marti

teque parit, gemino iuncte Quirine Remo.

ille suos semper Venerem Martemque parentes

dixit et emeruit vocis habere fidem;

neve secuturi possent nescire nepotes,

tempora dis generis continuata dedit,

sed Veneris mensem Graio sermone notatum

auguror: a spumis est dea dicta maris,

nec tibi sit mirum Graeco rem nomine dici;

Itala nam tellus Graecia maior erat.

venerat Evander plena cum classe suorum:

venerat Alcides, Graius uterque genus

(hospes Aventinis armentum pavit in herbis

claviger, et tanto est Albula pota deo):

dux quoque Neritius; testes Laestrygones extant

et quod adhuc Circes nomina litus habet,

et iam Telegoni, iam moenia Tiburis udi

stabant, Argolicae quod posuere manus,

venerat Atridae fatis agitatus Halesus,

a quo se dictam terra Falisca putat.

adice Troianae suasorem Antenora pacis

et generum Oeniden, Apule Daune, tuum.

serus ab Iliacis et post Antenora flammis

attulit Aeneas in loca nostra deos.

huius erat Solymus Phrygia comes unus ab Ida,

a quo Sulmonis moenia nomen habent,

Sulmonis gelidi, patriae, Germanice, nostrae.

me miserum, Scythico quam procul illa solo est!

ergo ego tam longe—sed subprime, Musa, querellas!

non tibi sunt maesta sacra canenda lyra.

quo non livor adit? sunt qui tibi mensis honorem

eripuisse velint invideantque, Venus,

nam quia ver aperit tunc omnia, densaque cedit

frigoris asperitas, fetaque terra patet,

Aprilem memorant ab aperto tempore dictum,

quem Venus iniecta vindicat alma manu.

illa quidem totum dignissima temperat orbem;

illa tenet nullo regna minora deo,

iuraque dat caelo, terrae, natalibus undis,

perque suos initus continet omne genus.

illa deos omnes (longum est numerare) creavit:

illa satis causas arboribusque dedit:

illa rudes animos hominum contraxit in unum

et docuit iungi cum pare quemque sua.

quid genus omne creat volucrum, nisi blanda voluptas?

nec coeant pecudes, si levis absit amor.

cum mare trux aries cornu decertat; at idem

frontem dilectae laedere parcit ovis.

deposita sequitur taurus feritate iuvencam,

quem toti saltus, quem nemus omne tremit.

vis eadem, lato quodcumque sub aequore vivit,

servat et innumeris piscibus implet aquas.

prima feros habitus homini detraxit: ab illa

venerunt cultus mundaque cura sui.

primus amans carmen vigilatum nocte negata

dicitur ad clausas concinuisse fores,

eloquiumque fuit duram exorare puellam,

proque sua causa quisque disertus erat.

mille per hanc artes motae; studioque placendi

quae latuere prius, multa reperta ferunt.

hanc quisquam titulo mensis spoliare secundi

audeat? a nobis sit furor iste procul,

quid, quod ubique potens templisque frequentibus aucta,

urbe tamen nostra ius dea maius habet?

pro Troia, Romane, tua Venus arma ferebat,

cum gemuit teneram cuspide laesa manum:

caelestesque duas Troiano iudice vicit

(a! nolim victas hoc meminisse deas!),

Assaracique nurus dicta est, ut scilicet olim

magnus Iuleos Caesar haberet avos.

nec Veneri tempus quam ver erat aptius ullum i

vere nitent terrae, vere remissus ager,

nunc herbae rupta tellure cacumina tollunt,

nunc tumido gemmas cortice palmes agit.

et formosa Venus formoso tempore digna est,

utque solet, Marti continuata suo est:

vere monet curvas materna per aequora puppes

ire nec hibernas iam timuisse minas.

—

P. Ovidius Naso, “Fastorum Libri Sex,” Lib. IV 1-132

translation by @zmaragdos

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heli0s-writes · 4 years

Text

It Is Knowing*

HI THANKS FOR EVERYTHING. It’s been a wonderful ride. Here’s the last part of Bag of Tricks. It’s tender and smutty and stupid. All mistakes are my own.

Please stop reading if you are not over 18!

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

He’s terrified.

Suddenly he’s looking at you one way, and then in a flash, the same dumb grin you always give him— the crooked one on the cusp of an ill joke— turns bright white.

It goes brilliant like star fire and during a storm inside a standard-issued cabin hideout, Bucky thinks he must be losing his mind.

And maybe he’s been losing it for a few weeks now, but he’s done a great job dodging the reality of your confession so far. Doesn’t matter what you mumbled—cracked out on exhaustion and sleep-talking—because in the end, you’re his friend and you love him the same way you love everyone else: annoyingly. Nothing’s changed about that.

He hazards another glimpse.

“Help?” You ask from the table, angrily scratching out blocks of an attempted crossword puzzle.

Do it in pencil, he tried to warn earlier, but you only called him chickenshit because you’re—yep—annoying.

“Foudre,” Bucky says carefully and you perk up at the sound of his voice. “It’s a… six-letter French word for thunder.” He clears his throat, gesturing toward the window splattered with rain.

“Oh-ho-ho,” you snort, “Smart boy, aren’t ya? FOO-DRUH.” An incredible bastardization of the term, and you sing around a chewed-up pen cap between your teeth. “My name’s Smart-Boy-Bucky and I know French, Russian, and Updog.”

“What the hell is Updog?”

Your face steels.

“Nothing much, how ‘bout you?”

And instead of going over there to kick your ass, all he can do is stare wordlessly as you break into a laugh—his entire body electric like a live wire.

He keeps telling himself there are only a few days before someone drops in to collect. He just needs a little bit of distance, some time alone to clear his head and get over this—thing.

But his brain feels like it’s melting while he waits, his stomach is probably developing an ulcer, and his heart is so fast and fierce that he can almost see the pulse in his sternum throbbing errantly.

Too many things are wrong. You’re his friend— and Bucky wants to throttle himself a little bit for ever letting you be his friend. You’re an unfiltered, oblivious dumbass and he doesn’t like that at all. You cry over animals and when he gets hurt because you’re an insufferable drama queen, too. He hates that. He does.

The sound of something enormous slamming on the ground makes him dash into the shared bedroom and—oh god, Bucky thinks he’s going to throw up.

First, the mattresses are on the floor.

Second, you’re. wearing. that. stupid. shirt.

The blue one. The one he used to love, hated for a bit, came back around to wearing, and now—yep, he officially hates it again.

“I think you’re too tall for the bunk.” You’re pushing the beds together, unaware of his clenched fists. “So if we sleep diagonally your feet won’t hang off—and can you believe it—” you point to the hem of cerulean brushing against your skin, “I packed three raincoats and no pajamas.”

At the sight of your creeping smile, Bucky loses it.

“Why are you going through my stuff?!” He shouts, gripping the doorframe with enough force to take the molding clear off. “Why are you touching my shit!?” And he probably sounds insane, flying off the handle like this, but he’s got a million grievances against you and this is just the tip of the iceberg.

“Mind your own fucking business!” He’s still unloading, unreasonably frantic at the sight of that terrible color hanging from your shoulders.

Bewildered, you plop down clumsily on your knees, gawking like a deer in the headlights.

Your bare legs, your fingertips on your thighs, the thin sleeves oversized and loose on your forearms, that smear of toothpaste on the collar, the hollow of your throat taut from holding your breath—it makes him want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you dizzy.

It makes him want to touch you. It makes him want you.

He’s sick. He’s dying. He’s so, so fucked.

“What…” Bucky quietly trails off, gasping helplessly as realization sinks in, “…what the hell is wrong with you...”

“Me?!” You shriek back, “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m over here worried about your crusty feet hanging off at night and you just swing in and take a dump on me?”

Bucky groans, miserable and guilty. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “Shit. I’m—I don’t know.”

“Eat my ass, dude!” you sneer, already tucked under the blankets. “I’m going to sleep. Turn off the fucking light you’re going to stand there looking like a dumbass.”

A feeble sigh as Bucky pushes his hands into his face, gripping his hair, pulling his own head back until he’s glaring at the ceiling, listening to the patter on the roof.

“You’re the dumbass,” he whispers.

You’re the dumbass with the emotional regulation problem. The idiot with the temper. The head full of sawdust. But, if it only took three careless words from your blundering mouth to make Bucky fall entirely apart, you must be right after all. He is the dumbass.

He feels split open like the sky—torn up completely, unable to make out anything in his own turbulence.

Fuck.

The sheets shift until he hears them slide off. Then, a pattern of bare feet across hardwood. He must look disastrous in the doorway, bent out of shape in uncharacteristic disarray.

“What is going on with you?” You find his arm, fingers wrapping around his wrists, tugging until they peel off his wretched face. “Why are you so upset? I wear your clothes all the time; I’m always in your stuff.”

He chuckles defeatedly because you really are always in his space. Throwing yourself into in his room. Eating chips in his bed. Squirreling away in his brain. Everywhere. Always.

Bucky presses his lips into a thin line, grimacing as he looks at you. Wordless and vulnerable, he can feel his brow sinking lower, throat narrowing around a swallow as he attempts to fix himself. A stutter falls out, then another, crackling syllables like surfacing thunder but never quite forming a sentence.

The earth groans, shaking the cabin and his precarious soul.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like—”

And then, under a streak of lightning, recognition splits across your face.

“Don’t,” he pleads to the silence, “Don’t say it.”

The seconds stretch into horrible eons of slow passing time. You tilt your head this way and that, eyes going from his face to his hands, limp at his side with your own fingers still grasping on.

“Jesus, Bucky,” you say gently, “You’re—my best friend.”

Bucky shuts his eyes. “I know. I’m not trying—"

“Bucky,” you interrupt, faster now. “Bucky,” suddenly elated and laughing. “Bucky—shut up.”

And then the entire room bursts into flames. Your lips are searing hot against his— plump and eager, leaving scorching trails everywhere they touch, and Bucky burns up like a solar flare trying to catch his breath.

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh, kissing him again. His cheeks, his jaw, his chin. “A real idiot.”

He’s terrified and dizzy, fumbling with a million possible outcomes and failing painfully each time. Relationships never quite work out for him; he’s dated a few girls and liked them a lot, too, but they’ve never turned out how he wanted them to. And this one—this one, he really can’t fuck up.

He’s got a bad track record, and with you, never knowing is much better than losing.

“Hey, you’re going crazy in there. I can hear it.” A sweet smile as your lips hover over his. The sweetest your face as ever looked. “Stop thinking, Bucky. Kiss me.”

Your lashes are so long and pretty. The dip of your cupid’s bow, a shape he adores. Even the tiny scar on your neck and the way your hair moves— wispy strands framing your face. Sounds of happiness tumbling out, hand firmly inside of his.

“It’s just me.” Joyful. Comfortable. “You know me.”

Your eyes glimmer—a familiar color calling him home.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, “Yeah, I do.”

Steve was the more competent linguist in their old days. Rolling French r’s, dropping ending consonants, silky smooth in pronunciation. Bucky’s tongue had always been more supplant to the Eastern European languages but, he knows enough of French—remembers enough from the war to recognize this:

Coup de foudre.

It’s the thing romantics exalt, the thing that half-strikes him now. The thunderbolt.

Love at first sight, even though it’s not quite first sight at all.

It’s not infatuated or starry-eyed. Not blind. Not feeling.

It is knowing.

And yeah, Bucky watches the way you pull him to the floor, euphoric and aglow, Jesus H. Christ, he knows.

This is it for him: your chaos, your entropy, your impulse. Your lack of personal space and foresight and good fucking sense. But—your kindness, too. Your care. Your heart.

Calm and patient as you settle down into his lap, the warm weight of you seems to be the only thing keeping him on earth.

“Can I touch you?” You ask shyly.

His voice is barely audible, hands unsure of where to rest, heart swollen in his throat.

Bucky flushes, and in the split second of your tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, he tells himself do it, you coward, just fucking do it—and god help him, he does.

He presses his face into your neck, kissing hungrily, anywhere he can, down to your collar and chest and then he’s lifting you up by the thighs and instinctively pulling everything off.

You’re both surprised and excited, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too.

His shirt gets flung behind your back. Both pants disappear somewhere else. One hand goes into his hair, other guiding him between your legs where you smear all over his fingers.

Bucky stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

He feels perfect in your hands. A silly grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and glide yourself over his length, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Bucky begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s unquestionably powerless.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Buck.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Bucky holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second--"

Using the position you’re already in, he lifts you up and brings you back down, a bit at a time until you’re landing on his hand with a gasp. He uses his fist as a stopper, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Thor?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a hook up. One time—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Bucky wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking on top, tipping him backward into the cushions, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Bucky, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck.

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Bucky could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

It’s rougher in the morning. In the shower, soaking together. Faster.

On the couch, next. With him asking you to put your hand here, move your leg there.

He wants to learn everything you like, too.

You eagerly change positions, giggling when your knee slips and you pitch forward onto his chest. The two of you take a moment to compose yourselves, pinching each other, kissing in-between. He commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you. The way everything moves easy and wonderful, sometimes lazy, sometimes harried, but always fun.

Yelping when you bite too hard. Biting you back even harder. Positions neither of you have surprisingly tried before, but why not start?

Cursing. So much cursing. A lot of it good—fuck me, yes, more, don’t stop—but truthfully, most of it stays about the same.

Barnes, you got a juicy ass.

Will you shut up!

And he never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or if maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Bucky’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the front door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Sam swings it open and Bucky is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” Sam hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Sam!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a sweater, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Bucky is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispers again, “Oh… my god.” He sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” he hisses, before screaming, “Oh hell no! I’m here picking y’all asses up. Landed the damn jet like two miles away, walked my happy ass through the rain— you butt-ass-naked in here—” He stands ram-rod straight, hands on his hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on y’all.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Sam!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m wet! And well— you wet too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

Sam snickers, high-fiving himself before crossing his arms, “Really though, believe me when I say this for everybody who’s ever met you two: finally. Now get y’all freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Barnes’ dick.”

You pat him on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Sam dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Bucky locks the door to a now silent cabin, damp with sweat and the smell of earth. It’s torrential still, two days bucketing and the ground is so wet mud goes up to his ankles. Luckily, and he wants to laugh at that, you packed two extra raincoats.

Thunderclaps shake the very ground he stands on. Bucky turns to look at you, marveling when electricity bounces off your eyes, lighting up your face. He reaches over.

A squeeze to your hand that says I’m yours.

One more, tighter. I love you.

You slot your fingers between his. I know.

You smile at the next streak in the sky. Me too.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel #reader insert #fanfiction #mcu

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aliypop · 3 years

Text

It’s All Greek To Me

Wordcount: 1,753

Warning : None

A/N: So this story is shining a light on not one but two characters Adonis and Aron!

"Adonis, watch your footwork..." Achilles grumbled, looking down at the young warrior, his foot placement off his body hunched over as his eyes passed on a few women walking by, "Your father nor Athena would be proud of you." he sighed, watching as Adonis turned to look back at him,

"I heard nothing of what you said..."

"As usual." Achilles laughed, holding onto his sword, " Women will be the same thing that gets you killed..." he looked at Adonis, perching himself on the column, "I doubt that... For I have no weaknesses..." Adonis laughed, his piercing blue eyes telling a lie that he had yet known existed, "Even the Gods have weaknesses, Tripolakis." he lunged forward as the other man blocked, "You'll just have to find it." Adonis looked at him a bit confused,

"You sound crazier than my father, who believes me to be king of Greece like him."

"Is Zeus not the king of the Gods,"

"Yes."

"And are you not of Artemis..."

"What do you speak of..."

"I've said too much." Achilles gasped, "Before you ask, I can not give you the answers of which you seek." he sighed as Adonis stormed off into the palace. Columns and paintings lined the halls as handmaids and servants moved out of the prince's rage. "What is Achilles going on about..." Adonis growled, his eyes becoming stormy like Poseidon's seas. Manolis, his father, only laughed as Varsia, his mother looked on in terror,

"What all did he tell you..."

"That I am of Artemis... " Adonis tensed up as Manolis chuckled, "That's foolish..." his dark curls shaking with every roar of his laughter, "You are the son of a king." he stood up to approach his son, "The son of me, the son of Greece!" Manolis smirked, "You will bring Greece to victory just as my father before me." Adonis stood back from his father's grasp as he locked eyes with his mother. As the night fell upon Greece Adonis was restless, he wanted to blame it on the wine he had consumed or the countless women Adonis had ravished ever so great, but he couldn't. His mind only focused on what his father said and what Achilles had said. Walking out towards the balcony, he could see the stars, which were always his favorite.

They reminded him that he was never alone in the world and that the Gods were smiling upon him.

"Almighty Zeus, if you're listening, send me a sign to guide me as to what I should do." his bow and cape in the corner of his chambers as he laughed, "Funny..." he rolled his eyes, walking away from the items until a thunderbolt followed suit towards them,

"I see you were serious..."

"Talking to the Gods again..." Adonis jumped, watching as his mother stood behind him, "You'll need this on your journey..." Varsia smiled,

"It's the symbol of Apollo. It'll get you between realms..."

"Realms..."

"I haven't much time to explain..." she sighed. The two walk towards the stables, saddling up, "I can only get you but so far to Olympus, but they can get you to Asgard."

"Mother, you're not making sense."

"You'll know when you'll get there." she kissed his forehead, sending him on his way.

"He's on his way..." Hermes announced, watching from the grounds of the kingdom that was Olympus. Fixtures of silver graced the mountains as the Gods all came to surround their messenger. "A bit early. isn't he..." Chronos responded as Aphrodite chuckled, "Zeus isn't going to like this one bit..." her arms crossed,

"Besides, he harnesses no exceptional powers and-" an arrow shot her way as the goddess looked towards Athena, who then pointed towards Artemis. Her arms folded against her person,

"Apollo, send him away..."

"Again..." he sighed, looking at her, "But..."

"Send him away!" she commanded. Apollo nodded, opening a portal to another realm, one called.

"Vanaheim," Astrid laughed, her dark hair braided dressed in green. " You must not be from here..." she eyed the man's armor. It resembles those of a Greek warrior watching as he rubbed his head, "I must've fallen hard." he mumbled, looking around, surrounded by grass, land, deer, " A palace..." he squinted, "And those are clouds, and this is a tree." she sassed, using her powers to help him stand,

"And you are..." he smirked, kissing her hand.

"Taken by Loki." she winked, removing her hand from his lips. "Come along, let's get you dressed..." walking into the palace, Adonis was taken by the beauty of colors and nature combined. It was as if Persephone and Artemis had both come together to create such a palace.

"Aron!" Astrid called out,

"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy painting-"

he dropped the brush, his eyes on the stranger.

"This is Adonis ... could you dress him."

"Perhaps..." Aron smiled at Adonis, gesturing for him to follow him, "Oh and Astrid..." he watched his younger sister turn, "Yes, Aron..." she responded, her amulet glistening in the sun, "Isabasia and Thor are still waiting for your blessing..." Astrid only groaned, rolling her eyes as she marched off towards the throne room. Adonis's eyes wandered over the prince's figure as he was a bit lean yet graceful. He had a smile brighter than Apollo's sun and eyes that twinkled like the stars.

"Draw him a bath and wrap him in the finest of fabrics," Aron commanded the servants as Adonis looked at the prince, "Such power for someone so young." he commented as Aron chuckled, making Adonis's heart melt, "Oh, I am anything but young... " he sat atop of his bed watching the servants usher Adonis towards the bathtub,

"So tell me..." Adonis cleared his throat, "About yourself." Aron laughed, undressing into his training armor, "Well, I'm a prince, I'm cursed, and the love of my life tried to kill me." he shrugged as Adonis laughed,

"Women are a weakness to you too, huh."

"And men..." Aron mumbled, seeing Adonis's figure from the mirror a lump in his throat. He had the body of God, a sculpture even, and yet it was lounging in his tub. "Where I'm from, warriors bathe together..." he turned to look at Aron, his cheeks turning rosy,

"I should let you relax... uh peacefully." Aron ran out.

Adonis sighed, basking in the sun closing his eyes. " Great Aphrodite, what have I done wrong... " he asked as he heard a light giggle, golden curls falling on top of his head as she squeezed his shoulder, "Terrible subtly..." she then paced in front of him,

"Too forward... and you've only just met the God."

"G-God..." he gulped, as she nodded, "Of nature, strength, and harvest." Aphrodite chuckled,

"How do you know this..."

"Am I not a goddess myself..." she handed him a towel as he stood there awkwardly,

"Uhm..."

"I crafted you to look like that..." she rolled her eyes, "Well, I'll be on my way." she smiled, leaving his presence. Later that night, Aron sat in the gardens of the kingdom, his hand petting an owl, watching his sister and her fiance braiding stems into flower crowns.

"You know stars tell us we're not alone in the world..." Adonis said, startling the prince as he spoke, "Did I scare you.." Aron looked up at him, "Yes... Yes, you did..." he glared at the warrior now dressed in traditional Vanir attire, "And my owl friend..."

"Sorry about that..."

"Why did you come here..." Aron asked, leaning in closer towards him, "Power, money, or my Mother sent you...." a dagger under his throat as Adonis looked up at him, pretty brown eyes glistening in rage, "I was sent here by the Gods... " he stuttered as Aron rolled his eyes,

"Sorry to tell you, this isn't Valhalla..." he growled as Adonis's heart raced faster,

"No, Olympus ..."

"Oh, you have a lot to learn."

"Try to catch up!" Isabasia smirked, nearly tossing him around the training arena, "Hey, you should be lucky, you aren't sparring against her..." she pointed towards her sister, who had Thor pinned to the ground. "How can I when you have an ax at my head." he ducked, missing it right on time, "You just did." her hand on her hips as she threw a bow at him, Adonis catching it as he made an arrow appear in his hand. "I always preferred archery," he breathed, letting the string go as it zipped through the sky, Aron catching it in his hands as Adonis waved back. Both Astrid and Isabasia looking at him.

" I see..."

"You see what, Astrid..." Adonis blushed, his dark brown hair longer with a few braided strands. " You're in love with our brother..." she smirked,

"I..."

"Hesitated, " Thor mentioned, holding his soon-to-be bride close.

"Fine... yes... by the grace of Cupid, I like him..." he pouted, a love-sick look in his eyes.

"Who's cupid?"

"Freya..." Isabasia informed him.

"If you want to impress a loved one..." Astrid looked over to Loki, sending a kiss his way, "Try being more gentle but brave, charming you're a prince, use it." she shrugged. "Does her advice usually work?" Both Thor and Isabasia chuckled, "She may be the goddess of chaos, but she's right about love." She pecked Thor on the lips as Adonis rolled his eyes.

Night fell, and Aron was sitting in the grass next to Loki, rambling about his 90th time reading much ado about nothing,

Which he tended to rant about Shakespear when Astrid was busy around the palace to listen, " And then-" Aron nodded as he looked over, seeing Adonis waiting patiently for him. "I believe Astrids returned to her chambers," Adonis mentioned, pointing to her now lit room.

"Thanks..."

"No worries." he smiled, "Is the seat taken..."

"All yours." Aron smiled, sliding his hand on top of his, "See, you've been training a bit..." he touched one of his muscles as Adonis flexed, "It's nothing. I used to train with all the greats, even the Amazons." Aron looked at him, then at his lips, "You don't say." he watched as Adonis got closer, his hand resting on the Vanir's cheek, "Oh, but I do."

"You know I have a thing... for warriors..." he whispered as Adonis pulled him closer,

"You don't say..."

"Oh, but I do..."

"Damnit, will you two just kiss already!" both Loki and Astrid grumbled from the window, the two eavesdropping.

"Perhaps we can take this to Asgard... We'll be ALONE there."

#marvel fanfiction #marvel characters #marvel ocs #marvel oc fanfic #Isabella sodotirr thor oc #astrid sodotirr loki oc #aron Sodonson #Adonis tropolakis new oc #oc community #oc fanfiction #oc fandom #let me know #Loki Laufeyson #thor odinson

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jknerd · 4 years

Text

FOP OCs: Heron & Zenaide

Name: Heron

Age: Immortal

Occupation(s): Fairy Celebrity, Cooking Show Host, Matchmaking Variety Show Host

Aliases: Hera’s Little Clone, Keeper of his Sister

Friend(s): Aubrey, Teena Quince, Cupid (sometimes)

Interest(s): Cooking, learning to be a godparent, cursing his sister’s ex-boyfriends

Relative(s): Zeus (father), Hera (mother), Hephaestus (older brother), Ares (older brother), Eileithyia (older sister), Hebe (older sister), Heracles (brother-in-law), Zenaide (little sister), Argon (peacock hatchling pet)

Character

Heron is youngest son of Zeus and Hera, older brother of Zenaide. In Fairy World, he is a celebrity as he host the Cooking show and Matchmaking Variety show as he help Cupid along with the topic. He strongly resembles his mother Hera's red hair, beauty mark under his right eye, and the unimaginably terrifying anger. Tired of his parents, he and Zenaide reside with their older sister Hebe. He is known for being protective of Zenaide and is prone to snap at whoever offends her.

Background

Heron and Zenaide were born as Zeus and Hera's last attempt to restore their marriage. However, they have witnessed the arguments of their parents, Zeus' infidelities and sex crimes, Hera's petty jealousy and the consequences the siblings were tired of the routine they decided to live with Hebe who is still married to Heracles. Both decided to take Godparenting training to make up the mess their parents made on Earth. Among the fairies, Heron and Zenaide didn't use the wand as they use their respective trinkets to keep their magic.

Throughout years, Heron was well-known for his cooking shows, matchmaking variety shows and his "angry spells". At one point, Blonda mocked Zenaide to the point of comparing herself superior than Heron's sister by beauty. Angered, Heron turned Blonda's appearance much uglier to show side effects of cosmetic surgery she went through and tormented her with paparazzis until Zenaide stopped him. Usually, he is seen pulling Zenaide away before she could flirt with whoever she's attracted to. Name: Zenaide

Age: Immortal

Occupation(s): Fairy Celebrity, Performer

Aliases: Zeus’ Little Copy, Miss Romance-Dreamer

Friend(s): May Queen, Lil’ Summer Maiden, Minister Autumn, Jack Frost (first crush), her 20 ex-boyfriends (formerly), Cupid, Teena Quince

Interest(s): Handsome boys, beautiful people, romance, fashion, babysitting, group idols

Relative(s): Zeus (father), Hera (mother), Hephaestus (older brother), Ares (older brother), Eileithyia (older sister), Hebe (older sister), Hercules (brother-in-law), Heron (older brother), Lenora (eagle hatchling pet)

Character

Zenaide is youngest daughter of Zeus and Hera, little sister of Heron. In Fairy World, she is a celebrity as she performed many songs and acting at Fairywood. She greatly resembles her father's blond hair, blue eyes and quick attraction to whoever that is beautiful. Although Zenaide is not prone to commit infidelities or force upon the relationship with others. Nonetheless, she is a friendly individual who is often seen gushing at Timmy's "rabbit teeth" which she finds it adorable. Teena Quince often find her bubbly side goofy but Zeus' youngest daughter is the only person calming Heron's dangerous temper.

Background

For many years, Zenaide was well-known for her performances in acting and singing, as "most prettiest" young fairy, and her quick attraction towards beautiful or cute ones/things. Jealous Blonda once mocked her to the point of comparing herself superior than Heron's sister by beauty, but Zenaide didn't seem to care about Wanda's twin sister but more likely worried what would Heron do to her. When seeing his curse affecting Blonda, she stopped Heron from doing worse. Usually, she is seen displaying affections to whoever she's attracted to, only to get pulled away by Heron.

#FOP #Fairly Oddparents #FOP OCs #Fairly Oddparents OCs #Zeus and Hera's youngest kids #Heron #Zenaide

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sukizula · 5 years

Text

Happy Father's day to my favorite, and arguably one of the best fathers in Greek Mythology: 🗡Ares🗡

- Avenged his daughter Aclippe by killing her attempted assaulter or rapist Halirrthious, a son of Poseidon.

vrs. 1 (tw: attempted assault)

Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca 3. 180 (trans. Aldrich) (Greek mythographer C2nd A.D.) :

"Agraulos [daughter of Kekrops king of Athens] and Ares had a daughter Alkippe. As Halirrhothios, son of Poseidon and a nymphe named Eurtye, was trying to rape Alkippe, Ares caught him at it and slew him. Poseidon had Ares tried on the Areopagos with the twelve gods presiding. Ares was acquitted."

vrs. 2 (tw: rape)

Pausanias, Description of Greece 1. 21. 4 (trans. Jones) (Greek travelogue C2nd A.D.) :

"There is a spring [near the Akropolis, Athens], by which they say that Poseidon's son Halirrhothios deflowered Alkippe the daughter of Ares, who killed the ravisher and was the first to be put on his trial for the shedding of blood."

- He gave his son Oenomaus, A king of Pisa, armour, weapons and a fabulous four-horse war chariot (the context is a bit gorey but we are talking about Ares' kids here.)

Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca E2. 5 (trans. Aldrich) (Greek mythographer C2nd A.D.) :

"He [Oinomaos king of Pisa] offered his daughter in marriage as follows: the suitor had to take Hippodameia on his own chariot and flee as far as the Isthmos of Korinthos. Oinomaos at once gave chase, fully armed with weapons and horses given him by Ares. If he caught them, he killed the suitor . . . he would cut off their heads, and tack them up on his house."

- He gave his own war-belt to Hippolyta, the Queen of the Amazons who were his daughters, because of her warrior like spirit.

Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca 2. 98 (trans. Aldrich) (Greek mythographer C2nd A.D.) :

"As a symbol of her pre-eminence among them [the Amazones], Hippolyte was possessor of the belt of Ares."

Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy 1. 618 ff (trans. Way) (Greek epic C4th A.D.) :

"Amazones have joyed in ruthless fight, in charging steeds, from the beginning: all the toil of men do they endure; and therefore evermore the spirit of the War-god thrills them through. They fall not short of men in anything: their labour-hardened frames make great their hearts for all achievement: never faint their knees nor tremble. Rumour speaks their queen to be a daughter of [Ares] the mighty Lord of War. Therefore no woman may compare with her in prowess - if she be a woman, not a God come down in answer to our prayers."

- He gave his son Diomedes, a King of Pisa, a herd of man-eating mares which Heracles stole (King Diomedes: ….thanks dad?)

Pseudo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca E2. 5 (trans. Aldrich) (Greek mythographer C2nd A.D.) :

- He bestowed upon Penthesileia, another queen of the Amazons, a fabulous set of armour and weapons. When she died in the Trojan War he mourned for her deeply, wanting to destroy Achilles (until he remembers the other god's sacrifices in the war)

Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy 1. 176 ff :

"But when Eos (the Dawn), the rosy-ankled, leapt up from her bed, then, clad in mighty strength of spirit, suddenly from her couch uprose Penthesileia. Then did she array her shoulders in those wondrous fashioned arms given her of [Ares] the War-god.

Her death:

Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy 1. 923 ff :

"Then Ares' heart was thrilled with grief and rage for his child slain. Straight from Olympos down he darted, swift and bright as thunderbolt terribly flashing from the mighty hand of Zeus, far leaping o'er the trackless sea, or flaming o'er the land, while shuddereth all wide Olympus as it passeth by. So through the quivering air with heart aflame swooped Ares armour-clad, soon as he heard the dread doom of his daughter...So Ares, battle-eager Son of Zeus, was stayed, how loth soe'er; for all the Gods to the Ruler of the Blessed needs must yield, seeing he sits high-throned above them all, clothed in his might unspeakable. Yet still many a wild thought surged through Ares' soul, urging him now to dread the terrible threat of Kronos' wrathful Son, and to return heavenward, and now to reck not of his Sire, but with Akhilleus' blood to stain those hands, the battle-tireless. At the last his heart remembered how that many and many a son of Zeus himself in many a war had died, nor in their fall had Zeus availed them aught. Therefore he turned him from the Argives - else, down smitten by the blasting thunderbolt, with Titanes in the nether gloom he had lain, who dared defy the eternal will of Zeus."

Burial:

Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy 1. 1990 ff :

"And, as for a beloved daughter, rang all round the Trojan men's heart-stricken wail, as by the stately wall they buried her on an outstanding tower, beside the bones of old Laomedon, a queen beside a king. This honour for Ares' sake they rendered, and for Penthesileia's own."

- Actively supported his Amazon daughters in their respective wars (one in numerous Anatolian kingdoms, the other in the battle of Troy)

Aeschylus, Eumenides 685 ff (trans. Smyth) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) :

"And this Hill of Ares (pagos Areion), the seat and camp of the Amazones, when they came with an army in resentment against Theseus, and in those days built up this new citadel with lofty towers to rival his, and sacrificed to Ares, from which this rock takes its name, the Hill of Ares."

Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica 2. 382 ff (trans. Rieu) (Greek epic C3rd B.C.) :

"[King Phineus tells the Argonauts of the obstacles they will face on their voyage across the Black Sea :] ‘When you have left these behind [the Mossynoekoi tribe on the southern shore of the Black Sea], you must beach your ship on a low-lying island, though not before you find some means of driving off the innumerable Birds that haunt the lonely shore and pay no deference to man. Her the Queens of the Amazones, Otrere and Antiope [or Hippolyte], built a marble shrine for Ares when they were going to war.’"

- When his daughter Queen Harmonia was living a catastrophic life, the worse comes to worst when she, along with her husband Cadmus, are turned into snakes by an angry Apollo (for sacking his oracle). He safely transferred them in the Elysium, where they may live a long immortal life among the blessed gods.

Euripides, Bacchae 1357 ff (trans. Buckley) (Greek tragedy C5th B.C.) :

"[Dionysos addresses Kadmos :] ‘Kadmos, hear what suffering Fate appoints for you. You shall transmute your nature, and become a serpent. Your wife Harmonia, whom her father Ares gave to you, a mortal, likewise shall assume the nature of beasts, and live a snake. The oracle of Zeus foretells that you, at the head of a barbaric horde, shall with your wife drive forth a pair of heifers yoked, and with your countless army destroy many cities; but when they plunder Loxias' [Apollon's] oracle, they shall find a miserable homecoming [transformed by the god into serpents]. However, Ares shall at last deliver both you and Harmonia, and grant you immortal life among the blessed gods.’"

- Sorefully grieved for his son Askalaphos when he died during the Trojan War

Homer, Iliad 15. 110 ff :

"Hera spoke before them all [the gods on Olympos] in vexation : ‘. . . I think already a sorrow has been wrought against Ares. His son has been killed in the fighting, dearest of all men to him, Askalaphos, whom stark Ares calls his own son.’ So she spoke. Then Ares struck against both his big thighs with the flats of his hands, and spoke a word of anger and sorrow : ‘Now, you who have your homes on Olympos, you must not blame me for going among the ships of the Akhaians, and avenging my son's slaughter, even though it be my fate to be struck by Zeus' thunderbolt, and sprawl in the blood and dust by the dead men.’

- When his son Kyknos was killed by Heracles, he attempted to avenge his son’s death, but Zeus threw a thunderbolt between them, causing them to seize. (other version have Athena and Heracles injuring him.)

Pseudo-Hyginus, Fabulae 31 (trans. Grant) (Roman mythographer C2nd A.D.) :

"He [Herakles] killed Cygus, son of Mars [Ares], conquering him by force of arms. When Mars [Ares] came there, and wanted to contend with him in arms because of his son, Jove [Zeus] hurled a thunderbolt between them."

- When his lover Aerope died giving birth to their son, he made a way so that his son can still drink his mother’s milk. He named Aphneios, meaning “abundant.”

Pausanias, Description of Greece 8. 44. 7 (trans. Jones) (Greek travelogue C2nd A.D.) :

"On the right of the road [from Tegea, Arkadia through the Manthouric Plain] is a small mountain called Mount Kresios, on which stands the sanctuary of Aphneios. For Ares, the Tegeans say, mated with Aerope, daughter of Kepheus, the son of Aleus. She died in giving birth to a child, who clung to his mother even when she was dead, and sucked great abundance of milk from her breasts. Now this took place by the will of Ares, and because of it they name the god Aphneios (Abundant ); but the name given to the hill was, it is said, Aeropos."

- He is the second God with the most number of godly children: Eros, Anteros, Adrestia, Harmonia, Deimos and Phobos, and Enyalius (first being Zeus of course no one can top him.)

-And cool ass mortal kids too: such as the Amazons and Romulus and Remus, founders of Rome.

[*Statue above is "Mars and Cupid" 1820- at the Chatsworth House, U.K. It depicts Mars (Ares) looking at his son Cupid (Eros)]

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serenhyunjinity · 5 years

Text

apénanti [bang chan]

“i hear you’re into greek mythology”

SKZ BANG CHAN || CHRIS BANG

warnings: probably inaccurate descriptions

a day. finally i would be visiting greece, athens precisely, was near. greece was probably the most interesting country to me at least, and i couldn’t contain my excitement once the professor announced that twenty students had been selected to go on this whirlwind of a trip. how typical, out of the 2000 students that signed up to it, i was chosen.

meanwhile here i was, sat on my bed staring at the mounds of clothes which i was about to attempt, and most likely fail, to put into my large suitcase. the only bad thing about this certain trip was the fact my best friend and roommate, hayoung, did not get selected, meaning i was bound to be alone during a majority of my stay.

“i heard jinyoung is going” the short haired girl wiggled her eyebrows teasingly as she sat on the bed opposite mine, plugging in her charger to the wall behind.

“that’s nice to know” i mumbled as i squeezed the case together, just about zipping it up fully. “i’m not going there just to form relationships, i want to widen my knowledge on greek mythology not the science of romance”. saying this, hayoung let out a groan of annoyance as she stared directly at me.

“y/n you’re going to be there for four days, i’m sure you will have time to socialise too” i mean she was correct, but truthfully i just wanted to discover more about the culture, not eat someone’s face off in a drunken makeout session. “seriously though, it’s jinyoung, you’ve liked him since forever” she chuckled as i sighed deeply.

jinyoung was and has been my crush since i was the mere age of twelve, ever since he helped me with some math question which was probably easier than anything i’ve ever studied in university. he’s smart and handsome to say the least, but it’s obvious that he isn’t looking for a relationship any time soon. i mean he just broke up with a girl who he had been dating for around two years, all because she dissed the harry potter series.

“i don’t even want to date him” now that, was a blatant lie. “i barely have time for myself, let alone a relationship” a loud sigh was heard from the other side of the room. it was true though, 99% of the time i’m either studying or writing up presentations in a small café nearby, it would just be unfair on the partner if i did end up dating.

“you can’t be single forever y/n, who knows maybe you’ll find a cute greek boy” the shorter girl winked as she moved out of her spot, grabbing a magazine. “oh crap i need to go to class” i chuckled as she ran out of the room, sliding on shoes and dashing out of the door.

only sixteen hours, hopefully it would be at least a bit eventful.

time had passed by extremely quickly, i now sat on the airplane seat, beside a girl with headphones larger than her actual head and the dance major seulgi, who was reading some kind of romance book. from the corner of my eye i could see jinyoung, who had his eyes focused on a book which looked way too complicated for a casual reader.

the journey passed by after many hours, mainly consisting of me sleeping or reading about the gods within greece. although aphrodite always caught my eye, dare i say that she was indeed my personal favourite goddess. being the mother of cupid was truly something, although i’m not totally into romance, somehow i just couldn’t help but feel invested in the story of aphrodite and her family.

one by one, we stepped off the now landed airplane, the heat immediately hitting me in the face like fire. it definitely was a contrast to the slightly colder weather of where my university resided, but i was not complaining in the slightest. to put it lightly, it felt like pure bliss.

going through the city of athens on the coach was a long but interesting journey. seulgi still sat beside me but i could spot the old fashioned buildings which were a white tone, matching the whole typical aesthetic of the city. never in my life had i seen a place as beautiful as one like this.

it was now the next day, which meant i could finally explore the culture without anyone holding me back. that was possibly the best thing about this trip, the professors wanted to explore too, so you were allowed to wonder around as long as you didn’t stray out of the general area.

so that’s how i ended up here, standing outside of a large building covered in vines. the stone was either a chalk or a marble, but it looked stunning to say the least. it actually surprised me how it was able to hold itself up despite being thousands of years old.

i grabbed my camera and captured photos that would end up in my notebook, documenting the information that i would have gathered from my stay here. strangely enough though i didn’t find too much about the mythology that i expected. i knew everything that i had researched here, which was kind of disappointing but i should have expected it.

“they’re beautiful aren’t they?” a manly voice made it’s way towards my ears, causing my head to immediately turn to the one who was attempting to make conversation with me. little did i expect to see a boy who probably was only slightly taller than me, with white hair looking in my direction. he wore a white shirt which was not fully done up and black jeans which complimented his body well.

“y-yeah they are” i gave him a small smile before turning back to the building, capturing a few more photos before placing the camera back into its case.

“i hear you’re into greek mythology” i stopped what i was doing and looked up at him, confused. do i know him? he must’ve sensed my confusion as he chuckled, causing my heart to speed up in its pace. “i suggest going to olympus, you’ll find out more there” intriguing, maybe i should go there.

“oh thanks, are you from here or are you visiting?” i attempted to keep the small talk flowing as i moved to another white building which looked almost exactly like the one before.

“i guess you could say that i was from here” he nodded slightly and this gave me enough of a chance to look at his features carefully. he was beautiful. somehow i felt a sense of attachment to him, it was odd but i could get used to it, seeing as it’s much better than being uncomfortable at least. “do you want me to come with you?” he spoke and i hesitated, i don’t know whether or not the professor would actually allow you to travel so far.

“sure i’ll ask my professor” he smiled back and handed me a piece of paper. “call me if you are allowed then” the dimples on the side of his cheeks peeked out as he began to walk off.

eventually professor lee agreed, but that didn’t stop him from hesitating slightly when i mentioned i would be going with a boy that i had met just hours before. the first day here had been a success, although i was desperate to find out more about the gods and goddesses that once roamed greece, at least in ancient tales.

so now here i was, sitting on a bus with the white haired boy sat beside me, with his earphones in his ears. i gazed out of the window, we made sure to leave as early as possible so that we could explore for longer in the daylight. the sunrise illuminated the area below, causing an orange blanket to cover the buildings and fields. with a click of my camera, it was the beginning of a long journey.

three hours later, the bus stopped, we were here. masses of tourists hopped off the vehicle and disappeared from sight, wanting to explore immediately. i learned that the boy who i came with was named chan, but also went by the name chris. talking to him was interesting, he just sounded so invested in the mythology, particularly ares, the god of war.

the mountains sorrounded the area around us, seemingly going on for miles, i’m just glad that they had installed a lift to reach the peak, so that we could view the architecture. mine and chris’ conversations mainly consisted of our favourite foods and our lives back at home. i learnt that he was working to become a producer but he would give tours around athens as a side job.

now here we were, standing in front of a large building which had a red border sorrounding it, preventing anyone from actually touching and damaging the piece of history. chris went silent, his eyes focused on the architecture, as if he was looking back at a part of his own background. “isnt it ironic that ares married aphrodite, they were complete opposites” he chuckled and i nodded slightly.

it was true, the god of the unpleasant aspects of war married the goddess of love and beauty. it kind of was like a ying and yang type of scenario. it felt like we had been in the same area for hours, gazing at the white walls that were surprisingly not too cracked. most of the tourists had left the mountain, as it began to get colder as time went by, but neither chris or i were affected what so ever.

“i’ve always wondered how ares felt about zeus and hera despising their own son” as soon as i had mentioned that, the boy standing before me froze in his spot, before looking down at the lack of grass underneath our feet.

“he hated it” he chuckled but it didn’t sound sincere, almost as though he was finding the two gods pathetic. and with that, we kept walking. that was until a bolt of lightning erupted out of nowhere, with dark grey clouds smothering the previous blue skies.

“what the fuck” i muttered as i stopped in my steps, but chris wasn’t fazed, as if this was a daily occurrence for him. was i dreaming? no maybe it’s just a very random storm. another thunderbolt hit the ground and i jumped in shock, i’m gonna get fucking hit.

“father not now...please” chris looked up and sighed deeply. did he just say father? i’m so confused. that was when the sky glowed and a boom sounded, but it sounded like a voice in the faintest. “please don’t” he was now pleading, begging on his knees. is this some sort of joke?

suddenly i felt dizzy, my body feeling light as i glanced up at the sky once more. my ears vibrated and a high pitched noise took over, until a voice caused me to stop in my steps. “aphrodite” i looked around, nobody but chris and i stood. the voice was manly, like the typical movies where they have an extremely deep voice of a god. my eyes closed and before i knew it, i was casted into a deep sleep.

my eyes fluttered open, i was in a place which was a bright shade of white, the bright sky lit up the area. it felt unfamiliar yet so familiar, maybe i was still dreaming. i gazed down at my clothing, the strips of gold covering the white robe caught my eye immediately, diamond and gold jewellery covered my arms.

soon enough i lifted my body off the extremely comfortable bedding and looked around properly. expensive furniture covered the room, until i saw myself in the reflection of the mirror, a glow sorrounded my form and i gasped at the sight. i’m dreaming wake up y/n. although despite the many times i pinched my skin, it was clear, i was not dreaming.

there was not a door covering the way into the room, so i stepped out and was met with a figure standing near the living area which surprisingly wasn’t too far away. it was chris. he was dressed so differently from the last time i saw him. he now adorned a long, robe which showed a large portion of his muscles which looked too good to be true.

“chris what the fuck is going on” he jumped at the sudden voice, before turning to face me. a small smile placed itself on his lips as he got up.

“i finally found you aphrodite” excuse me, what the hell did he just call me? i laughed out loud but he didn’t budge. “finally i found you in your human form after all of these years, i thought i lost you” he unexpectedly wrapped me in his embrace, but i couldn’t help but hold myself back and insisted on doing the same to him too.

“chris-” i couldn’t finish my sentence, still too shocked to say anything.

“my love, you must’ve lost your memory, have you ever wondered where your love for mythology came from?” to be honest, i just remember suddenly having a love for it and it kind of just stuck.

“am i dreaming?” he laughed and shook his head, oh god even his laugh was perfect.

“i’m so glad i found you again aphrodite, but let me introduce myself as you may have forgotten” he trailed off before coming closer towards me. “i’m your husband, ares, and i fought so much battles to find you”.

masterlist

i’m crying this is so bad

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tipsycad147 · 4 years

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Aizen Myo’o

By shirleytwofeathers

Aizen-Myōō, also known as Rāgarāja, is one of the five Wisdom Kings. Other titles and names include the following:

Lord of Passion

King of Lust

Lust-Drenched One

Impassioned One

King of Sexual Passion

Ragaraja, Buddhist Lord of Passion, travelled from India to Japan, where he transformed into Aizen Myo’o, venerated by Japan’s esoteric Buddhist sects as King of Love, Lust, and Desire, patron of erotic love and sacred sexuality. He helps convert earthly, physical desires into transcendent love and spiritual awakening.

He is portrayed as a red-skinned man with a fearsome appearance, a vertical third eye and flaming wild hair that represents rage, lust and passion. Also the Lustful-Tinted Wisdom King was popular among Chinese tradesmen who worked in the fabric-dying craft, typically accomplished with sorghum.

He is still venerated as a patron of landlords, prostitutes, homosexuals and petitioned by devotees for a peaceful home and abundant fortune in business. There is usually a lion’s head on top of his head in his hair, representing the mouth into which thoughts and wishes may be fed. Some of these are the wishes of local devotees who make formal requests for success in marriage and sexual relations.

Aizen Myo’o is King of Lust because he helps control it, explore it, or transform it into enlightenment. He is petitioned for assistance with the physical and emotional frustrations of suppressed sexuality. Aizen Myo’o is revered as patron of gay love, but he may be invoked for assistance with any kind of love or romance, including self love.

Aizen converts earthly desires (love/lust) into spiritual awakening, and saves people from the pain that comes with love. Aizen is celebrated in Japanese rites to achieve harmony and friendship, to succeed in one’s romantic endeavours, to gain the love and respect of others, and to reach a clear understanding of the Dharma (Buddhist law).

Favoured People:

Aizen Myo’o guards prostitutes and sex workers. He is venerated by those for whom sex is a business, including sex shop owners and those working with any form of pornography or erotica. He is also venerated by singers, musicians and landlords.

He is the patron deity of dyers, possibly because the second part of his name means “dye” or “to dye” (hence “soaked”).

Today, Aizen is revered in Japan’s gay quarters as the patron of love. Aizen does not appear in Indian texts, and is unknown among India’s deities.

Iconography

Aizen is usually depicted with a red body possessing eight arms and three eyes on an angry face. A lion’s head rests in his hair, symbolising passion. He carries bows and arrows, which symbolise love as well as his role as a destroyer of evil. Aizen’s red body symbolises the power to purify sexual desire. He is typically bright red, suggesting the force of the passions, yet, at the same time, the vigour of his compassion.

He is portrayed as a red-skinned, frowning man, his appearance representing suppressed lust and passion. He variously has two, four or six arms; in the latter form, his hands bear a bell, a stick, a thunderbolt, a lotus, a bow and an arrow. Similarly, he sometimes has two heads, with a lion’s head in his wild hair.

His lion headdress indicates that Aizen possesses the strength of the five wisdom Buddhas. His three eyes are able to see the “three realms” of desire, form, and non-form.

His mouth is usually half-opened and reveals fangs. His hair is fiery and stands on end. Aizen is often surrounded by flames, which indicate the burning power of the passions. Aizen is usually seated on a lotus throne and carries a lotus flower in one of his four arms.

The most distinctive feature of Aizen is his bow and arrow, which is the best way to identify him (though it is sometimes missing). Interestingly, experts on Buddhist iconography are not agreed about the precise meaning of the bow and arrow.

All agree that it is a weapon against evil. Furthermore, according to some, it chases away carelessness and neglect (in observing Buddhist precepts).

For others, the arrow is Aizen’s love (somewhat like Cupid’s arrow), and, in another theory, it is the conquering strength of wisdom. Sometimes, Aizen holds a small mirror, a symbol of the void in Buddhism. He typically appears with six arms, but sometimes with only four.

The blood-red body and flaming halo of Aizen Myōō, the Wisdom King of Passion, represents the state at which sexual excitement or agitation becomes enlightenment and passionate love becomes compassion for all living things. In Buddhism, he manifests as a vajrasattva.

Aizen Myōō is the embodiment of rage: his hair stands on end, a snarling lion rises from his head, and his six arms brandish Esoteric Buddhist weapons and other emblems of power. The bow and arrow in his middle hands are attributes appropriated from Kama, the Hindu god of love.

Though fearsome in appearance, this wisdom king acts only out of love for others. In Japan, Aizen is thought to control the amorous passions, redirecting them to ward the struggle to overcome desires.

In contrast to this righteous anger, jewels of good fortune forming flaming clusters spill from a vase in front of the deity’s lotus throne. While Aizen Myōō’s appearance may instil fear, the faithful afflicted with problems of the heart address him as a popular intercessor.

The Rāgarāja Mantra

Appropriately, Rāgarāja’s mantras are pronounced in either Chinese or Japanese transliterations of Sanskrit; the cadences depending upon the respective region where his devotees reside and practice, and whether in the Shingon or Tendai schools. His seed vowel, as written in bonji, is pronounced “HUM,” usually with a forceful emphasis coming from the use of lower belly muscles.

To invoke Ragaraja, one needs to form his mudra and chant his mantra. While holding the mudra, rub the middle fingers against each other – this represents ”love to connect.” By invoking him in this way, Ragaraja will come quickly and descend into your body.

Here’s a video:

For the sake of the men and women in emotional distress, sentient beings engaged in love and passion, and couples who are separated and need to patch up their relationships, here is the Sadhana of the Ragaraja Affection Practice:

The practitioner must first enshrine the image of Ragaraja. The practitioner may purchase an image, or find an artist to paint an image of Ragaraja, or get a sculptor of Buddhist statues to carve one.

The Offering

Find the stamen from a red lotus and remove 108 strands from it as an offering. Also make offerings of other foods with a mix of the five tastes: sweet, bitter, sour, salty and hot.

Preliminaries

Perform the Fourfold Refuge, the Great Homage, the Great Mandala Offering, and the Four Immeasurables.

The Mudra

Form the Root Mudra of Ragaraja: The two hands have fingers crossed and inwardly clasped like a vajra fist, except for the middle fingers which stand erect and crossed over each other. Form the mudra first before entering into the visualisation.

Visualisation

Visualise Ragaraja descending from the light of the sun. Visualise flames surrounding the body of Ragaraja. Visualise your loved ones appearing within the flames. Visualise the arrow of Ragaraja shooting towards the hearts of the loved ones.

The Mantra

Recite the mantra of Ragaraja: OM MAHARAGA VAJROSNISA VAJRASATTVA JAH HUM BAN HOH. Recite this mantra 108 times, or 1080 times, counting the recitation with your mala beads.

The Meditation

Sit in meditation and enter into samadhi. The practitioner visualises himself entering into the heart of Ragaraja together with his loved ones.

Once he comes out of his meditative absorption, the practitioner dedicates the merits and asks that Ragaraja keep his vows to bring fulfilment to the desired love and relationship.

Concluding the Practice

After performing the Great Homage, take the 108 strands of the red lotus stamen combined with sandalwood incense powder and burn the mixture before the statue of Ragaraja. When you cultivate this practice, a miracle may happen after only a day.

Some individuals may request a sculptor to carve a small statue of Ragaraja out of white sandalwood, about the length of one`s finger. You may enshrine the statue in your shrine, and bring it along with you when you leave the house.When you practice doing this, you shall find fulfilment in all things, especially earning respect from people.

Important Points

I hope everyone who practices this method will benefit from it. However, remember that this practice is meant for those who are sincere and honest, and will not work for people with ulterior motives.

If a female who is flirtatious and married desires another male, this practice will never work.

If a male who craves the opposite sex desires another lady when he already is married, this practice will never work.

If a prostitute with ill intentions desires to catch a rich man, this practice will never work.

If a male whose heart is fickle and whose actions are topsy-turvy, speaks of love but actually desires sex, this practice will never work.

Here is a verse:

Supreme as Ragaraja himself, Whose merits and vows are kept firmly in his heart, When you are sincere and your love is strong as gold and rock, Pray to him and receive his pure light Which quickly transforms a relationship to one of affection. As the self-nature is dissolved into the realm of affectionate beings, All hindrances shall be eliminated, Closing the gap between those truly in love

Other Mantra Practices

Ragaraja is a great and mighty deity of love and respect. If relations between a couple are not harmonious, if one wants to acquire great love and admiration from male and female friends, if one wishes to become president or an artist, if one wishes to have a great affinity with all people, if one wishes the presence of valuable people, if practitioners need companions for success on the path of cultivation or need help from someone, if one needs the help of others in one’s studies, if farmers need workers to work for them, and if businessmen need nonstop benefits, they should all practice Ragaraja.

Assisting in Attaining Spiritual Union with the Principal Deity Dharma

While practicing Vajrayana Buddhism, even after you recite mantras and practice many dharmas, you may still not have any spiritual response from any deity. By reciting Ragaraja’s mantra 300,000 times one will quickly achieve spiritual response.

Ragaraja has great dhama power. One can readily receive spiritual union with one’s personal deity while praying to him for it. Therefore, everyone should chant the deity’s mantra, because he belongs to ”love to connect.”

One will rapidly achieve spiritual union if one practices one’s personal deity after having recited Ragaraja’s mantra for 300,000 times! This is because he is ”love to connect,” which means to ”get you connected.”

Dharma for Annihilation of Evil

Paint or draw Ragaraja’s image then hang the image on the west wall so that Ragaraja’s image faces east. Then, after completing 300,000 recitations of the Ragaraja mantra, you can perform the ”Shooting with Ragaraja’s Bow and Arrow Dharma.”

Facing to the front, visualise the person you consider to be your enemy in front of you and yourself holding a bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. Then shoot the arrow at the visualised person. The person will no longer go against you.

A second method is as follows. One chooses the afternoon of a ”Chu” (”Removal”) day to practice the dharma. Standing in front of Ragaraja’s image face to the east and form a gesture as if shooting an arrow while you recite the Ragaraja Mantra 108 times. Then, visualising your enemy in front of you, shoot the arrow at him. Your enemy will immediately retreat.

Dharma of Drawing an Image

Vajrayana Buddhism highly regards painting a Buddha’s image. While you are painting the Buddha’s image, your entire mind is so focused that you will paint continuously. Because of this attentiveness, the divine nature of Ragaraja will enter the painting you have drawn, and the painting will already be powerful when you hang it up.

When practising Image Drawing Dharma, one will obtain spiritual union quickly and easily because after drawing Ragaraja’s image for so long, Ragaraja is imprinted in one’s mind.

Dharma of Love and Respect

Homa for love and respect must be performed between the 16th and 30th days of the lunar calendar. Set up the fire offering mandala in the form of a lotus shaped semi-circle. All offerings, such as flowers, fruits, food, drinks, clothing or other items must be red in colour. Throw 180 red lotus stamens into the homa fire burner to be burned. When reciting the mantra, chant ”hum tsa-zhi-hum re” Command ‘name of the person’ and ‘name of the person’ to love and respect each other.”

Please remember, this is to be practised by one who is honest and sincere. It is not meant to be practised by ”one who has evil intentions.”

Nectar Dharma

Ragaraja sits on top of a nectar vase. A lotus stems grows out of this nectar vase becoming a thousand petaled lotus. Visualise that Ragaraja transforms on top of this thousand-petaled lotus, Rajaraja is transformed from the syllable ”hum” The lotus is transformed from the syllable ”bang.” The nectar vase is transformed from the syllable ”seh.” Visualise Ragaraja moving to the top of your head. Ragaraja’s nectar vase is dripping nectar which enters your central channel. Visualise your whole body filled with nectar that eliminates all your bad karma.

You can visualise the amrita as red because Ragaraja is red in colour. At this time, your whole body is filled with red amrita and you are purified. This way, you can easily go to Buddha’s Pure Land.

Carved Image Dharma

Have someone carve an image of Ragaraja about the height of your right thumb. Ragaraja’s height, width, and length should be exactly the same size as your thumb. Because you desire Ragaraja to be fully engraved in your heart, when you have completed 300,000 mantra recitations, Ragaraja will then have a spiritual union with you. Wherever you go, everyone will respect you and all their love will be reflected on your body.

One should practice Carved Image Dharma to protect oneself from being harmed by witchcraft, black magic spells, or evil practices. What one needs to do is to carve the image of Ragaraja and wear it as a pendant in front of one’s chest.

While wearing the carved image of Ragaraja, if you fall in love with a person and wish for Ragaraja to help reciprocate love from this person, all you need to do is recite the Ragaraja Mantra 7 times, and say the person’s name. Alternatively, say ”command ‘names of the person’ and ‘name of the person’ shall love each other.”

Also, after completing 300,000 recitations of Ragaraja Mantra, carry the carved image of Ragaraja with you. Recite the mantra 7 times while on the plane; 7 times while on the boat; 7 times while on the train; or 7 times while in the car. Whichever transportation you take, or if you are walking, or anywhere you may be, recite 7 times; you will not encounter any disasters or calamities.

Dharma of Exorcising Demons

When helping a mentally ill patient or a person possessed by evil spirits, visualise yourself transforming into Vajrasattva. Then visualise that the syllable ”hum” on the palms of both hands transform into Ragaraja. On top of your head, the ”hum” syllable transforms into Ragaraja; on your face, the ”hum” syllable transforms into Ragaraja. Transform your ”Vajrasattva” body into ”Ragaraja’s” body. Pat the back of the mentally ill patient or person that has been possessed by evil. Or recite ”hum tsa-zhi-hum re” and pat the patient’s back with both your palms. The evil spirit possessing the body will then naturally leave.

Dharma of Detoxification (Dharma of Purification)

All you have to do is recite the Ragaraja mantra 300,000 times. Then, for any food that you eat, first recite ”hum tsa-zhi-hum re” 7 times. After eating this food, even if it was spoiled or contaminated, the food will become fresh and clean again. When you go home, you will not have diarrhoea.

Someone may put a curse on you with black magic, or put a curse on your food, or lace your food with sedatives or other mind-altering drugs. All you need to do is face toward the soda or food and recite ‘ ”hum tsa-zhi-hum re ‘ 7 times and the drugs or sedatives will no longer be effective. Anything that is contaminated will lose its effectiveness and be purified. Anything that is bad will become normal. Anything that has been poisoned will be detoxified.

Therefore, if one falls under spells of black magic or is harmed by witchcraft such as that practiced in Sichuan, Yunnan, Guangxi, and Xiangxi, the witchcraft and the black magic spells can be undone as long as one practices this dharma.

Even if you find yourself in hell and see poisonous snakes, just recite ”hum tsa-zhi-hum re” 7 times and the poisonous snakes will leave. If you are in the hell of swallowing red hot molten metal balls, all you need to do is recite the Ragaraja Mantra 7 times ”hum tsa-zhi-hum re” and the metal balls will turn into moon cake. When you are in the hell of filthy excrement recite ”hum tsa-zhi-hum re” 7 times and all the feces will turn into sausage. Any bad thing will transform into something good.

Information collected from a variety of sources.

https://shirleytwofeathers.com/The_Blog/powers-that-be/aizen-myoo/

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astraltwelve · 6 years

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Astronomy and Mythology

Since almost 6,000 years ago, our ancestors have made attempts to catalogue the heavens that expanded above us. The Greeks and the Romans made the biggest contribution to most of the world’s view of the stars. The earliest references to a mythological connection to the stars may be in Homer’s Iliad in the 7th century B.C.E.,wherein he described the creation of Achilleus’s shield by Hephaistos, the craftsman God.

On it he made the earth, and sky, and sea, the weariless sun and the moon waxing full, and all the constellations that crown the heavens, Pleiades and Hyades, the mighty Orion and the Bear, which men also call by the name of Wain: she wheels round in the same place and watches for Orion, and is the only one not to bathe in Ocean (Iliad XVIII 486-490).

Around Homer’s time, most of the constellations weren’t necessarily connected with any specific myth, but were instead known simply as the animal or object they represented. Lyre was simply the Ram. It wasn’t until around the 5th century B.C.E. that the constellations became connected to certain myths. Eratosthenes in his Catasterismi, completed this evolution and gave each constellation mythological significance. The Lion became specifically the Nemean Lion that was overcome by Hercules. The line between mythology and astronomy became so blurred it was virtually indistinguishable.

The most thorough astronomical catalogue of ancient times was the Roman Ptolemy of Alexandria, who compiled 1022 stars into 48 constellations during the 2nd century C.E. His work didn’t include the constellations only visible in the southern hemisphere, but laid the foundation for the modern list of 88 constellations officially designated by the International Astronomical Union.

The influence of both Greek and Roman works is quite evident; the myths behind the constellations are still well known, and their Latin names are still in use.

Aries Mythology

Aries represents the Golden Fleece sought by Jason and the Argonauts. Mercury originally presented the ram to Nephele when her husband took a new wife, Ino, who persecuted Nephele’s children. The Ram flew away to the East with Phrixus and Helle on its back, in an attempted by Nephele to keep the two safe. Helle fell off between the Aegean Sea and the Sea of Marmara, but Phrixus safely made it to the eastern shore of the black sea, where the ram was then sacrificed and its Golden Fleece was offered to King Aeetes.

Taurus Mythology

Taurus represents the bull form Jupiter assumed when attempting to woo Europa, princess of Phoenicia.

Majesty and love go ill together, nor can they long share one abode. Abandoning the dignity of his sceptre, the father and ruler of the gods, whose hand wields the flaming three-forked bolt, whose nod shakes the universe, adopted the guise of a bull; and mingling with the other bullocks, joined in their lowing and ambled in the tender grass, a fair sight to see. His hide was white as untrodden snow, snow not yet melted by the rainy South wind. The muscles stood out on his neck, and deep folds of skin hung along his flanks. His horns were small, it is true, but so beautifully made that you would swear they were the work of an artist, more polished and shining than any jewel. There was no menace in the set of his head or in his eyes; he looked completely placid. (Metamorphoses II 847-858).

Europa was impressed by the gentle beauty of the bull, and played with it on the beach, eventually climbing on its back. He then swam out to sea with her, taking her to Crete where he revealed his identity.

Gemini Mythology

Gemini represents Castor and Pollux, twin brothers birthed by Leda and therefore half-brothers to Helen. Leda was impregnated one night by Jupiter in the form of a swan; she was also impregnated by her husband, king Tyndarus of Sparta, the same night. Pollux was Jupiter’s son, and therefore immortal famous for his incredible strength. Meanwhile, human born Castor was famous for his equine skills. They both fought in the Trojan War to bring their sister home to her husband, and therefore are often depicted armed with spears atop matching white horses.

When the mortal Castor died, grief-stricken Pollux begged Jupiter to share the immortality. Jupiter consented and reunited the pair in the heavens.

Cancer Mythology

While the exact mythological origin of Cancer is uncertain, the most widely accepted story is that Cancer was the crab sent to harass Hercules while he was on his second labor. Juno in her infinite jealousy sent Cancer to nip at the hero’s heels as he battled Hydra, only to watch as the crab eventually became crushed beneath Hercules’s feet. To reward the crab for its faithful service, Juno placed it in the heavens.

Leo Mythology

Leo represents the Nemean Lion, killed by Hercules during his first labor. The Lion, according to legend, had impenetrable skin, which Hercules got around by wrestling the lion and strangling it to death. He then removed one of its claws, and used it to skin the lion, and Hercules wore the Nemean Lion’s skin as protection from then on.

Virgo Mythology

According to some ancient poets, Virgo the Virgin is sometimes known as Astraea, who lived on earth during the Golden Age of man.

First a golden race of mortal men were made by the immortals who have Olympian homes. They lived in Kronos’ [Saturn’s] time, when he ruled the sky, they lived like gods, with carefree heart, free and apart from trouble and pain; grim old age did not afflict them, but with arms and legs always strong they played in delight, apart from all evils; They died as if subdued by sleep; and all good things were theirs; the fertile earth produced fruit by itself, abundantly and unforced; willingly and effortlessly they ruled their lands with many goods. But since the earth hid this race below, they are daimones by the plans of great Zeus [Jupiter], benevolent earthly guardians of mortal men, who watch over judgments and cruel deeds, clothed in air and roaming over all the earth (Hesiod, Works and Days 109-125).

Presumably, Astaea is the daimone (invisible spirits that watch over men) who’s domain is justice. Her emblem was the scales, which we now see next to her as Libra.

Libra Mythology

Libra represents the balance or scales, representative of the fall equinox – when days and nights are equal, the sun and moon are in balance.

An alternative interpretation, is that Libra works as a “hinge point” or “center of balance,” between the two. Virgo is the Virgin, and Scorpio tends to be associated with sex. Virgo is analytical, Scorpio is visceral. Libra provides the balance between these two points

Scorpio Mythology

The Scorpion is generally believed to be responsible for the death of the great hunter Orion. As to the reasoning; some myths state that Scorpius stung Orion in response to his boast that he could defeat any beast, while others maintain that the Scorpion was sent by Apollo, who was concerned about his sister Diana’s continued chastity. To avoid further conflict, Scorpio was placed on the opposite side of the sky from Orion.

Sagittarius Mythology

Sagittarius represents the centaur Chiron (although there is now an asteroid as his namesake). Most mythological centaurs were regarded as bestial, but due to the Greeks immense respect for the horse, they were reluctant to make centaurs wholly “bad.” Chiron was, in fact, renowned for his gentleness; he was an excellent archer, musician, and physician, and even tutored Achilles, Jason, and Hercules.

One fateful day, Hercules accidentally shot and wounded Chiron with an arrow that had been dipped in the poison of the Lernaean Hydra. This greatly inflicted suffering upon Chiron, so severe that his talents as a physician couldn’t cure himself. He was an immortal, so despite his agony he could not find relief in death, so he offered himself as a substitute for Prometheus (who’s punishment for giving fire to man was chaining him to a rock, and having an eagle devour his liver, only to have it regrow to be consumed the next day). Jupiter, at the request of Hercules, agreed to release Prometheus, in exchange for Chiron surrendering his immortality and being sent to Tartarus in place of Prometheus. In recognition of Chiron’s goodness, Jupiter placed him in the stars, where he can be seen laying low in the southern sky during the summer.

Capricorn Mythology

Bacchus was feasting on the banks of the Nile when suddenly Typhoeus, the earthborn giant appeared. He jumped into the river, and the part of him that was below the water was transformed into a fish, while his upper body became that of a goat. He then saw Typhoeus attempting to dissemble Jupiter, and blew a shrill note on his pipes that frightened Typhoeus, causing him to flee. Grateful Jupiter placed the new shape of Bacchus in the heavens under the new name Capricornus, as a thanks for the rescue.

Aquarius Mythology

Aquarius represents Ganymede, the lovely young Phygrian son of Tros, king of Troy. Jupiter saw Ganymede tending his father’s flocks, and became enamored with the boy, so he flew down in the form of a large bird, whisking Ganymede away to the heavens, where he became the cupbearer to the gods.

Ovid wrote of Orpheos song that chronicles the tale:

“The king of the gods was once fired with love for Phrygian Ganymede, and when that happened Jupiter found another shape preferable to his own. Wishing to turn himself into a bird, he none the less scorned to change into any save that which can carry his thunderbolts. Then without delay, beating the air on borrowed pinions, he snatched away the shepherd of Ilium, who even now mixes the winecups, and supplies Jove with nectar, to the annoyance of Juno”.

Pisces Mythology

When Typhoeus suddenly appeared (the same instance that caused the transformation of Bacchus into Capricornus), Venus and her son Cupid were bathing on the banks of the Euphrates River. They took on the shapes of a pair of fish to escape the danger. Minerva immortalized their ordeal by placing the figures of two fish among the stars.

In other versions, Venus and Cupid were rescued by two fish who carried them to safety. In a similar Syrian mythology, two fish known as “Ikhthyes" (or “Ichthyes”) were the ones that rescued the gods.

Whatever version, the mythology of Pisces always refers to two fish, never one. Most versions of the Typhon escape legend speak of the tails of the fish being tied together to avoid losing each other. The constellation of Pisces represents two fish with their tails tied together.

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