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pocketjoong · 1 year

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❥𓂃𓏧PRECIOUS

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS) As a nature witch, you always wanted your own familiar ever since you were a kid, however, fate seemed to have different plans for you.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) cat boy!hongjoong x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) Hongjoong is a cat. mentions of food and drinking. a little bit of violence. mentions of getting injured. questionable editing. lmk if I am missing something

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 8.9k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) My entry for the stuck in summer collab hosted by @a1sh1teruu. This was mainly inspired by cat boy!hwa fic written by @hwaightme! I always enjoy feedback, reviews, and asks so don't hesitate to comment/send an ask!

Humming to yourself, you lock the door to your quaint little cottage nestled in the heart of the woods. Your basket, which is brimming with aromatic herbs and meticulously crafted potions, dangles from your arm as you set toward the nearby town. There’s a spring in your step that reflects the life thriving in the flora around you. As a nature witch, you prefer to live in your element; hence, your chosen abode rests at the forest’s edge, a mere mile from the bustling town you call home.

This distance necessitates a journey by foot, a mile-long expedition riddled with untamed trails and serpentine streams. The unpaved path is untouched by humanity, offering no comfort of a well-trodden road, but in its midst—intertwined with the symphony of rustling leaves, bubbling brooks, and the whispered secrets of the trees—you feel at home.

As you amble past the outskirts of the town, a voice pierces through the tranquil air of the early morning. You falter at the unexpected call of your name and gaze past a waist-high fence to witness Miyeon—the daughter of a fellow witch and cherished friend—hurrying down her front yard with a bundle of fur resting in her arms.

“Y/N! Look! I found my very own familiar,” she says, words brimming with pride and joy.

Your smile broadens as you congratulate her on her newfound magical connection. As you fuss over the young girl, your friend arrives, scolding her daughter for leaving her breakfast unfinished on the table. After exchanging cordial greetings and a gossip-laden exchange, you bid them adieu, recommencing your journey to Wooyoung’s shop.

As you leave behind the jovial mother-daughter duo, your once-beaming smile begins to wane, usurped by the pang in your chest. The yearning for a familiar casts a shadow upon your heart. Your dreams and visions of such a bond had been nurtured by tales of your parents’ harmonious connection with their own familiars and a childhood fantasy that stemmed from watching and re-watching Kiki’s Delivery Service. Usually, you can easily ward off these dark thoughts, allowing them to be no more than a passing whisper. But today, the loneliness of being a witch without a familiar resurfaces with a melancholic tenacity that defies dismissal.

“Why the long face?”

Your response to the unexpected voice is a startled screech before you realise that it’s only Wooyoung who is standing at the window of his shop. The playful curve of his lips and the fond glint in his eyes prompt you to mutter a curse under your breath—more in playful annoyance than actual resentment.

You met Jung Wooyoung right after you found yourself in Alusia when you were a bright-eyed young witch, fresh out of the academy. He owned an antique shop inherited from his grandparents and was new in the town too, having arrived only a week prior. In his willingness to find a friend, Wooyoung offered you shelter under his roof when you needed it most—a gesture that solidified the foundations of an unbreakable friendship. Soon, the two of you converted the antique shop into an apothecary—a venture carved from your joint dreams and driven by your unique talents. Wooyoung, with his inherent charm (or, as your mutual friend San teasingly referred to it as Wooyoung being a loudmouth), engaged with clients while you prepared the elixirs and potions that graced the shop’s shelves.

“You are such a menace, Woo,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully in mock exasperation as you step into the shop, extending the basket to him. He lifts the lid carefully to reveal its contents, his enthusiasm palpable as he thoroughly inspects your offerings. “You are an angel, you know that?! I was running low on most of these and—oh?” In a burst of affection, he engulfs you in an unexpected hug, “You've finished Mrs Kim's potion already? You truly are a wonder, Y/N.”

By the time you step out of the shop to return home, it’s past noon, and the sun is high in the sky, casting a glow that makes you squint against its brilliance. But you smile despite the temporary discomfort because the warmth of the summer sun serves as a reminder of your cherished garden. The thought of the flourishing herbs and thriving plants in your backyard makes you smile.

Skipping lightly across the worn, flat stones that act as a bridge over the clear stream, you revel in the prospect of returning home after an exhausting week. The last few days were a flurry of ceaseless activity—the sheer number of concoctions to prepare left you without a moment to catch your breath. So, the mere idea of spending the rest of the day simply resting without worrying about tasks and obligations sounds heavenly. With each step that leads you closer to your home, a sense of serenity unfurls within you, anticipation blossoming like the flowers that line both sides of your path.

On your way, you come across another stream, its gurgling rhythm a soothing undercurrent to your thoughts. Just as you approach it, however, a soft rustling pierces the air, causing you to halt in your tracks. Your brows furrow and your gaze sweeps the landscape for the source of the sound. Nothing seems amiss, yet the sight of a fawn preoccupied with a hidden something beneath the swaying grass causes you to move closer.

A gasp, involuntary and hushed, escapes your lips as your eyes land on a jet-black cat, its form huddled against the earth, a stark contrast against the vibrant backdrop of nature. However, it’s not the feline’s presence that startles you, but its pitiable state. Laboured breaths escape the creature, and the emerald blades beneath it are smeared in crimson blood. Without much thought, you scoop the injured feline into your arms. Careful of its wounds, you break into a brisk pace, your heart beating in tandem with your desperate urgency.

Foregoing the cottage, you bring the cat to the outhouse that doubles as your workspace. There, you tenderly set it upon a generously sized cushion at the far table. Despite the anxiety riddling your thoughts, your hands are steady as you collect the required ingredients to heal him. Gratitude unfurls within you for the foresight that ensured your own provisions remained well-stocked, even as you had taken most of the supplies to the apothecary.

Once you’re armed with everything you will need, you fuss over the wounded feline. As you carefully begin healing the cat, a whispered prayer escapes your lips—an offering of gratitude to the nature spirits that guided you to the cat for if you had been even a few minutes late, he would not have survived whatever ordeal had led to his pitiful condition. As you work, the sun dips beneath the horizon, casting hues of purple and orange in the sky. The cat’s exhausted form eventually surrenders to peaceful slumber, and though relieved, you still find yourself unable to depart for the comforts of your cottage.

Fetching the futon that you use when the making of a potion demands vigilant oversight, you nestle into its warmth. From the glass ceiling, you smile at the star-strewn sky that arches above you. Like this, under the watchful gaze of the constellations, you fall asleep, unknowing that your life is now intertwined with the cat’s own.

Your eyes flutter open to the soft morning sunlight piercing through the windows of the outhouse and your gaze shifts to the feline. You smile as you see the cat is doing better and leave the cat to its peaceful slumber to fix up a quick breakfast for yourself, only returning with a list of potions you must deliver to the shop the following week.

You put your phone onto your desk and begin your work, enveloped in a symphony of tranquil melodies that mirror the serenity of the forest that lies merely a few paces from where you stand. As you are immersed in your craft, the sun reaches its zenith, casting its warmth upon your workspace. As you work, a subtle shift draws your attention—a faint movement that you catch in the corner of your vision.

Turning to the source of movement, your eyes settle upon the cat, the creature finally stirring from its slumber. Wariness born from a shared unfamiliarity—yours with its nature, and its with yours—causes you to stay where you are. You wait with bated breath as the little guy brings his paws to his eyes to rub them, followed by a languid stretch. A yowl of discomfort leaves him, echoing through the space, and you can’t help but inhale sharply at his distress; he probably hears it because the very next moment, he’s on his paws and hissing at you.

You observe him with a mixture of understanding and patience, knowing that such a response comes from the fear and uncertainty of finding oneself in unfamiliar surroundings. You raise both your hands to show that you mean no harm.

“Hey, it's okay,” your voice flows with reassurance, carrying with it an aura of compassion that you hope the cat can sense. “You're safe here, I promise. Please, just… rest some more. Moving might cause more harm than good right now, and it took me a while to treat those wounds of yours.”

The cat’s eyes narrow in distrust as his eyes rake over your form. Eventually, however, his cautious resolve gives way, and with a subdued huff, he eases back onto the cushion. You can tell that he is still wary of your presence, so you return to your task.

Stirring the potion, you softly break the silence. “You know, you’ve been out for almost a day. I was growing rather concerned, to be honest.” The cat tilts its head subtly, almost as if he’s curious, so you continue your train of thought. “Your injuries were quite severe. It’s a relief to see you awake.”

As the hours tick by, you remain absorbed in your work. Bottles and vials are filled with elixirs and put into another basket, each labelled with care and precision. While you work, you can feel the cat’s watchful gaze upon you. Once your tasks are completed, you shift your attention to your companion, who is now fast asleep. The feline, who was so cautious of you merely hours ago, now embodies a tranquillity that makes your lips quirk up at the corners. As you tidy your workspace, your heart brims with warmth, and once done, you begin preparations for lunch in your cottage.

The golden rays of the sun filter through your kitchen windows, illuminating your countertop as you cook a simple yet hearty lunch. You walk out of the kitchen, wanting to awaken the cat to give him some food, but as you enter the living room, a curious sight awaits your gaze. The cat is seated in front of the coffee table, blinking at you lazily. At his curious behaviour, your magic reaches out gently, a fleeting touch that reveals nothing out of the ordinary, causing you to hum in confusion.

Armed with food, you step closer to your companion, emboldened by the silent affirmation that he won’t run away. “Would you mind if I turn on the TV?” Your query hangs in the air, and a melodic meow is the only answer you get before he’s diving headfirst into the meal you had prepared. Considering his response a go-ahead, you tune into Pirates of the Caribbean, the movie becoming a backdrop to your shared meal.

As the credits of the first movie start to roll, you can sense wariness in the cat’s watchful eyes, but this morning’s feral hiss has yielded to a tentative harmony. Noticing how entranced the cat is by the movie, you don’t turn it off as you clean the dishes, a gesture that you suspect he appreciates. Returning to the living room on completion of your chores, you find the once-restless creature nestled upon the sofa in cosy contentment—an image that both warms your heart and fascinates you.

You settle into the opposite end of the couch, and open your grandmother's book of remedies. The sounds from the TV fade into background noise as you read through the tome, and you can’t help but think about how oddly domestic this moment seems.

Emboldened by how relaxed your new companion looks, you decide to talk to him. “Hey, buddy, would you mind if I checked on your wound? Just to make sure it's healing the way it should?”

The feline responds with a subtle shift—a repositioning that unveils its wounded side. As you approach, your heart swells due to the delicate trust blooming between you. If you’re surprised by how quickly he is healing, you don’t let it be known. “Looks like you will be fine by the end of the week. I’d love for you to stay here with me until then, but the choice is yours.”

Your offer hangs in the air for a moment before he meows, sealing the agreement. The cat settles back into the same position in which he’d been watching the movie, so you assume that means he’s going to stay in cat-speak.

Yet, a lingering thought flits through your mind—the matter of a name. “What do we name you, though?” you ponder aloud, your voice a soft murmur. You drop random names that seem fitting for a cat. Most receive only a nonchalant disregard, save for an outright hiss at the name “minion”.

As you are at your wits’ end, an idea strikes you. “What about Captain... Jack Sparrow?” The last part is whispered, so you don’t know if he heard, but you’d shorten it to Captain anyways, so in your humble opinion, it is the perfect name.

In the wake of your suggestion, the feline’s eyes light up in affirmation, making you smile. “Okay then, Captain it is,” you declare softly, marking the beginning of a bond, one forged in the quiet moments and shared names bridging the divide between the two of you.

In a surprising twist, Captain Jack Sparrow defies your initial expectations by choosing not to leave your cottage even after his recovery. The once-wounded feline weaves his presence into the very fabric of your life in the form of a plush cat bed nestled within a spare room. Though, in hindsight, it was an unnecessary purchase as the bed remains pristine and untouched, while the cat himself stakes claim to your couches and book-laden shelves.

During the day, the uppermost shelf of your work area becomes Captain’s sanctuary, where he slumbers amidst the tomes stacked alphabetically. With time, Captain inches closer, from lower shelves to the corner of your very table—a silent testament to the trust that has bloomed between the two of you.

Then, one day, the gentle touch of a paw upon your hand breaks through your concentration. Wide-eyed, you find yourself captivated by the slumbering form of Captain. For the next hour, you don’t dare move your hand, driven by the irrational belief that any movement on your part could shatter the delicate companionship you’ve woven over months of shared moments.

The seconds stretch like an eternity, yet you remain still. When Captain awakens to find you in such a vulnerable state, his response is one that eases your fears—a gentle nudge of his nose against your hand in gratitude and acknowledgement and leaves before you can process what happened.

That night onwards, you find Captain curled up at the top of your closet during the night. The first few times, the sight of his glowing orbs startles you, but with time, you find yourself comforted by this silent guardian who watches over you as you slumber. When you tell Wooyoung about this, his response is one of gentle reassurance. “He probably watches over you to protect you as you sleep during the night.”

Speaking of Wooyoung, the first time you ask Captain to accompany the town on your visit, he seems a little sceptical. “It’s your choice, Captain. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly alright. I just thought you would like some change of scenery,” you tell him. As you gather your belongings and secure your cottage, you expect Captain to stay back. However, as you lock the door, you find him perched upon the fence, waiting for you. And when you introduce Captain to Wooyoung, it is a new experience, to say the least. Laughter spills forth as you are unable to suppress your mirth as Captain scratches your friend’s hand in an instinctive response to Wooyoung’s attempt to lift him into his arms.

“You have adopted a devil, Y/N,” he screeches, pointing at Captain while cradling his arm protectively. Your cat, on the other hand, is sitting on his haunches while licking his paw—the picture of angelic innocence.

“Please, I would scratch you too if you tried to scare me. The only reason I don’t is because you’d whine about it for days. Captain might just be the guardian I need to keep you in check, aren’t you, bud?” The answering meow causes another round of joyous laughter to burst forth from your lips.

You’d think Captain’s initial aloofness would deter Wooyoung but, Captain's coldness only seems to fuel your friend’s determination as he tries everything he can to get Captain to like him—from treats to gentle pets to whimsical trinkets—all in an attempt to win over the feline. Yet, Captain remains steadfast, his indifference to these gestures firmly intact. And it is not as if this attitude is reserved for Wooyoung alone.

Ever since that first trip where he accompanied you, Captain follows you each time you visit Alusia. As you navigate the streets of the town, he treads his own path, a few paces away and often on higher surfaces while you go about your business. The townspeople, on learning of your feline companion, attempt to win his affection, but he doesn’t seem like people (or people touching him), so eventually, they give up trying. However, he still accepts treats from them despite you telling them not to, but the way he looks at you has you quickly going back on your words. How can you say no when he looks at you with his large eyes that seem to hold entire universes within them?

During one such trip to Alusia, a jewellery shop captures your attention for a moment, but as your mind is preoccupied with the bubbling concoction back at the outhouse, you walk past the display without lingering. In your haste, you don’t even realise that Captain has stopped in front of the big window and isn’t following you. It is only the sensation of something amiss that prompts you to retrace your steps, leading you to the forlorn figure of Captain seated before the shop—a sight that tugs at your heartstrings.

A sigh escapes your lips as you crouch beside him. “Would you like to explore what the shop has to offer?” you inquire gently, recognising the twinkle in Captain's gaze as he looks up at you.

Though your feline companion is a delight to be around, sometimes you can’t help but be sceptical of the little guy. You have often caught him reading your journals or tomes as if he understands them, prompting speculation about his understanding of human knowledge. Yet, those notions are quickly discarded when he settles onto the page with a languid yawn. “Cap’n, my books are not cushions for napping,” you always chide him in playful exasperation, only to be met with a dismissive glare and a subsequent shift into your lap. Amongst all his quirks, one stands out—his remarkable understanding of human speech. Whenever you ask him something, he answers with a meow or a hiss (it’s easy to tell which is for which), just like how he answers your question about the shop with a meow.

With a nod, you offer your arms as a welcoming perch for Captain to leap into and enter the quaint shop. The glittering array of chokers fascinates him, prompting you to lead him towards the displays. He studies each piece carefully, and at the end of this impromptu stop, Captain is adorned with a collar—which is more of a choker, really. A topaz moon and vibrant red marigold pendants grace his new accessory, shining beautifully as the sunlight hits them.

For the rest of the week, Captain's spirited headbutts and unabashed demonstrations of fondness keep you on your toes, simultaneously warming your heart and distracting you from your potion-making. His playfulness leads you to scold him gently because you are worried that he could get hurt while you work. “Cap’n, I know you love your new collar, but I need to concentrate on my work, or you could get hurt.” Despite your reprimand, his adoration remains undeterred, but he does quiet down as you work and lingers nearby, a reassuring presence amid your bustling workspace.

Weeks pass, and one night in mid-August, you are jolted from your sleep by a distressing nightmare—a rare occurrence for you as you rarely dream. Gasping for breath, your magic surges instinctively, tethering you to the calming embrace of the forest that surrounds your home.

As your panic settles and you feel calmer than before, you reach for the glass of water on your nightstand, only to be startled when a pair of glowing eyes meet your gaze from the heights of your closet. It’s a familiar sight, yet the remnants of the unsettling dream create a tremor within you.

“Captain Jack Sparrow, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Your hand instinctively rests over your pounding heart as you chide him, the mixture of residual fear making your voice tremble.

Observing your distress, Captain gently descends from his vantage point to the expanse of your bed. A soft meow accompanies his movements, and his eyes seek yours before he nuzzles his head against your side. Sighing, you relent, succumbing to his affection. Your touch is tender and reassuring as you pet his head gently, “It’s alright, buddy. I didn't mean to scold you. I was just startled by the nightmare.”

Cocooned in the soft cotton sheets, you lay back down to go back to sleep and notice Captain curling up by your side with a gentle purr. His tail encircles your wrist in a protective gesture as if trying to ward off the shadows that threaten to disturb your sleep. From that night onwards, most nights, you awaken to find him nestled by your feet or right by your pillow—a silent guardian whose comforting aura intertwines with the magic that surrounds you.

Time passes and one season transitions into the next, and before you know it, you’ve been living with Captain Jack Sparrow for almost a year. As yet another summer rolls around, you notice his presence has brought profound happiness to your existence. While he may not be the familiar you once yearned for, he has become a source of unwavering support, and his mere presence never fails to brighten up your days.

However, there’s an unexpected shift in Captain’s behaviour one day, he seems restless, and it only intensifies during the night. Despite your attempts to understand what’s wrong, you can’t seem to figure it out, which leaves you both perturbed and anxious. As dawn breaks, you decide professional insight is necessary and bring Captain to the town’s vet, only to be told that your cat is in perfect health. Though baffled, you’re relieved to know that Captain is not in any particular danger. On your way back home, you venture into the apothecary only to be met with a frantic San and aghast Wooyoung.

“What's wrong?” You ask softly, only for Wooyoung to burst into sobs as he throws himself into your arms.

Turning your gaze to San, his weary visage reflects the toll whatever ordeal he has gone through has taken on him. His voice is a blend of exhaustion and urgency as he relays the heartbreaking news to you, “Miyeon vanished in the forest. She had been working on her first test as a witch-in-training and didn’t return.”

You know how important the test is, for it is the first step in any witch’s path towards the prestigious academy in the capital. San continues to explain that when the young girl didn’t return home, even as the stars twinkled in the rapidly darkening sky, her mother raised an alarm and the townspeople searched for her throughout the night to no avail.

“It’s as if she vanished into thin air, Y/N,” San’s voice is filled with the fatigue of fruitless searching and worry for Miyeon.

Your brows furrow, “Do you have any idea where she might have gone missing?”

San shakes his head with a sigh, “The only thing we found was her bracelet, and that was miles away from where she should’ve been—near the rocky caves close to the mountains.”

The information stirs a gasp from your lips, for the mountains lie nearly fifty miles away from Alusia’s borders. “But that's miles away. How could she have ended up there?”

Weariness is evident in every line of San’s face as he levels you with a sorrowful look, “No one knows.”

Days stretch on, heavy with a gnawing sense of uncertainty, as Miyeon’s absence continues to hang upon Alusia like a dark cloud that just won’t leave. The ominous shadows that loom over the forest deepen as more individuals vanish without a trace, their fates shrouded in a veil of mystery that defies explanation. Countless efforts have been in vain, leaving everyone in a state of collective apprehension. Venturing into the heart of the forest with San and Wooyoung, you’ve even journeyed to the rocky caves where the bracelet had been discovered. However, you find no tangible clues, and the sombre truth of your fruitless attempts sinks in.

Weirdly enough, amidst the sense of dread and uncertainty that surrounds the town and the forest, your cottage emerges as a safe haven. Whether the protective spells you’ve cast around its perimeter have deterred the sinister force or some other unknown factor is at play, whatever has been prowling in the forest doesn’t seem to approach your home. Your heart fills with relief at this, for it ensures the safety of not only yourself but also of your feline companion.

Captain has been venturing into the forest stealthily; however, you’re attuned to the subtle shifts that accompany his absence. Despite your worry, you permit him these solitary ventures as not only is your confidence in his instincts unwavering, but you also know that he wouldn’t stray too far to put himself in jeopardy. True to your belief, he returns to your side by the time you’re done with the day’s work.

However, one day when Captain doesn’t come back home by dusk, you reach out to Wooyoung, informing him that you will set out in search of your cat. Your friend’s apprehension is palpable even through the texts, and he reminds you of the prevailing danger that has claimed Miyeon and others, yet your determination overrides his caution.

Urgency propels you into the forest’s depths as the sun sets even further, washing the canopy above you in shadows that stretch like fingers reaching out to pull you into their darkness. An unsettling hush descends upon the surrounding area, a peculiar silence that leaves you both aware and wary. Your senses are on high alert as you advance deeper into the foliage and look for your cat.

As you spot a clearing in front of you that is bathed in the ethereal glow of twilight, you notice Captain Jack Sparrow in the middle, his attention fixed on an unseen presence shrouded within the trees on the other side.

“Captain?” At the sound of your voice, his head whips around, his meow fraught with urgency. As he hurries to your side, his head nudging against your leg, you recognise his plea for you to retreat.

“I’m not leaving without you,” you tell him softly but with enough conviction in your voice that elicits a resigned meow from Captain.

He positions himself in front of you, his lithe form a protective barrier between you and the hidden danger that holds his attention. The silence seems to pulse with malevolent energy, and the hairs on your arms stand on end as you brace yourself for what awaits.

And then, from the gap between the trees, steps out a figure that you have only seen within the pages of the books you’ve read—a demon. His arrival disrupts the eerie stillness, his form emanating an aura that sends a shiver coursing down your spine. Horns, reminiscent of an infernal crown, emerge from tufts of his long hair. Intricate tattoos wind their way along his arms like serpents of darkness, and wings resembling a bat's silhouette stretch ominously, casting shadows that dance in tune with the forest’s secrets. The deep crimson glow of his eyes sears a path into your very soul, leaving you trembling beneath his gaze.

Your heart beats wildly within your chest, your senses keenly aware of the danger that emanates from this being. As the realisation that you stand before a high demon dawns upon you, you cannot help but inhale sharply.

Though fear courses through your veins, your mind functions with remarkable clarity. A plan takes shape, and your instinct for self-preservation and the well-being of those you hold dear compels you to act. Fingers trembling, you manage to send a discreet message to Wooyoung and tell him to bring a priest whose knowledge and skills would be able to banish this entity back where he belongs.

Beside you, Captain Jack Sparrow emits another series of hisses, his agitation a mirror to your own. The feline’s protectiveness seems to amuse the demon, for his lips curl into a sinister grin. “You think your feline companion is any threat to me? You’re foolish to think so, little witch.”

Your heart pounds as you face the looming demon. With your makeshift weapon—a sturdy stick—grasped firmly, you weave determination and resolve into your stance. Your gaze shifts to Captain, his eyes reflecting the trust he places in you. Kneeling before him, you utter your words in a hushed tone. “Can you distract him for me?”

Captain Jack Sparrow meets your gaze with unwavering intensity, an unspoken understanding passing between you two. His nod is resolute, a testament to his loyalty and his faith in you. Without hesitation, he catapults himself toward the demon, a feline embodiment of courage and defiance.

With a sharp breath, you drag the stick into the forest floor as you etch a devil’s trap. Each stroke in the soil forms a link in a mystical chain, a barrier that could keep the demon trapped until the priest arrives with Wooyoung. The forest seems to hold its breath, the air thick with anticipation as you carve your intentions into the earth, invoking protection and safeguarding magic into each gesture.

Just as you make the last stroke on the earth, a piercing howl of agony pierces through the silence. Panic claws at your chest as you stand, your eyes locking onto Captain, who now lies amidst the underbrush. The demon’s glee is evident, a sickening grin that sparks a fire of anger within you.

Even as your heart races with a mixture of fury and desperation, his taunting words punctuate the air, “You can’t hurt me either, little witch. You’re too weak to go up against me.”

Your voice, though laced with tremors, carries a fire born of defiance. “You underestimate me, demon. My strength lies in more than just might.”

As the tension builds, you brace yourself, a fusion of anger and resolve fuelling your next steps. For some reason, a smirk dances at the edges of your lips, the action adding to the demon’s simmering fury. His snarl of irritation is a satisfying confirmation that your audacity has hit its mark, goading him into action. Without warning, he hurtles toward you with terrifying speed, and instinct kicks in, your body moving with a fluidity born of desperation as you sidestep his oncoming assault, your heart pounding with a mixture of adrenaline and a fervent prayer for Wooyoung to be quick. He’s your anchor, your beacon of hope, a lifeline that promises light at the end of the tunnel.

Your attempt to land a punch only garners a momentary victory, a fleeting contact that sends a jolt of satisfaction through your veins before the demon's ferocity reignites. Your “fight” with the demon is more of a dance between predator and prey. The demon is tireless, his attacks relentless, and your resilience the only thing keeping you from succumbing to his power.

As you’re trying to catch your breath while also simultaneously dodging the demon’s attacks, a movement in the corner of your vision catches your attention—a graceful, stealthy approach. It’s Captain Jack Sparrow, emerging from the undergrowth despite being hurt himself. You can see the fire in his own eyes as he moves closer to the two of you.

Your focus narrows as the duel intensifies. Yet, in a split second, your world tilts on its axis. The demon’s strike finally lands its mark, and an agonising pain flares in your abdomen as his blade pierces through you. Your gasp of pain mingles with the harshness of your exhale, the world momentarily spinning as you lose your grip on reality.

Amidst the searing agony, a small hope presents itself—a diversion in the form of your cat. Captain’s launch distracts the demon, his collision with the devil turning the tide of battle. A triumphant surge courses through you as the malevolent entity stumbles ensnared within the conjured lines and symbols of the devil’s trap.

Hope blossoms anew as the demon’s growls turn to roars of rage. It’s a momentous turn of events, however, the sweet taste of victory is swiftly tempered by the urgency of your injury. Blood flows from your wound, a crimson river that threatens to drown you in its tide.

But as darkness threatens to claim you, the forest is pierced by the sound of familiar voices. Wooyoung’s call is a lifeline, as he and the priest, followed by San, move toward the heart of the clearing. Their arrival sparks a surge of relief within you, the fervent prayers you’d cast finding their answer.

For your two friends, the demon, now in the custody of the priest, takes a backseat to the immediate urgency of your wound. Bloodied and battered, you succumb to the overwhelming sense of fatigue that washes over you, your vision flickering as you teeter on the precipice of consciousness. As the world blurs and wavers, you hear Captain’s mournful meows and Wooyoung’s desperate pleas as San works to stem the bleeding. Darkness envelops you, but not before you grasp the hands of those who are by your side, hoping to give them some comfort.

As you gradually resurface from the depths of the unconsciousness, you’re met with a hazy awareness of your surroundings. The soft rustle of leaves, a gentle breeze, and the warmth of the sun’s rays brush against your senses, weaving together a mosaic of sensations that bring you back to the world of the living.

As your eyelids flutter open, the world swims into focus, and you realise you’re laid down in the comfort of your bed. With careful and deliberate motions, you navigate meticulously to take note of any aches along your body. The pain is there, an ever-present reminder of the brutal encounter with the demon, but it’s not as overwhelming as you initially feared.

Summoning the strength to sit up, you’re acutely aware of the effort it takes. Your muscles protest the movement, a chorus of twinges and discomfort that underscore the extent of your injuries. You exhale a measured breath, grateful for the incremental progress that you’ve made in whatever number of days you’ve been unconscious.

You wonder if Wooyoung or San are downstairs, for you hear movement and sounds drifting through the air—evidence that you're not alone. With a mixture of trepidation and anticipation, you muster the energy to call out. “Hello?”

In response, the sounds shift—a plate clatters in the sink, and footsteps echo through the corridors as they draw nearer. You await the reply with a mixture of anticipation and unease, as the door to your room creaks open, revealing an unexpected visitor who seems as surprised to find you conscious as you are to meet him. The stranger stands framed in the doorway, his presence both enigmatic and captivating. Your gaze sweeps over him, capturing the details that distinguish him from any other human.

His silver hair shimmers like moonlight swept in an artful disarray around his face. His brown eyes are warm and expressive, and his petite nose adds a touch of whimsy to his features, a charming little thing that lends him an air of approachability.

Yet, what captivates your attention most are the silver cat ears that adorn his head. They peek from behind his tousled locks, a hint of something magical, a connection to the feline that has become such a significant part of your life. And there, nestled against his throat, rests the same choker you had bought for Captain—the final object that weaves a thread of familiarity between you and this stranger.

You blink at the unexpected revelation, your mind whirling as it tries to reconcile this silver-haired stranger with the raven-furred feline companion who had been a constant presence in your life for over a year. The pieces of the puzzle rearrange themselves in your perception, forming a new and baffling image that challenges your understanding of magic and reality.

“Please don’t tell me that you’re the cat who’s been living with me for the past year,” your incredulity and confusion are woven into the words that hang in the air between you.

He blinks back at you, the innocence in his gaze casting a surreal contrast against the situation you’ve found yourself in. “Um, okay?” His response is soft, almost timid, and a pang of empathy stirs within you.

“But, you… I didn’t sense a single ounce of magic in you,” you murmur, your words imbued with a touch of bewilderment. The dichotomy between his appearance as a cat and now as a being with apparent human attributes leaves you struggling to grasp the threads of truth.

He shifts uneasily in the doorway, his cat ears betraying his discomfort as they flatten against his hair. As your brain races to piece together the implications of his transformation, Captain—your erstwhile feline friend—interjects with a soft sigh, “That’s because our magic is way different. Nature witches can rarely sense dark magic unless it’s threatening.”

“Oh… WAIT— WHAT DO YOU MEAN DARK MAGIC?”

The elusive and sinister nature of dark magic indeed renders it undetectable to your innate senses. But to think you had been living with a creature who practised dark magic made you shudder.

“I am a mage, well—I was one until I declined a fae’s advances. They cursed me to live as a cat for the rest of my life,” he confesses, his voice carrying the weight of a burden he’s carried for far too long.

Your emotions teeter on the precipice of uncertainty. Part of you instinctively yearns to distance yourself, wary of the unpredictable nature of dark magic and its ramifications. Yet, another part—perhaps the more empathetic and compassionate side—compels you to understand.

“And how did you turn back?” you inquire gently, the words wrapped in a blanket of cautious curiosity. You observe his response closely, measuring his demeanour, and his expressions, seeking any sign of deceit or danger.

He meets your gaze squarely, his eyes carrying a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. “I called in a favour another fae owed me. They helped me out and managed to undo some of the curse… but I was to stay a cat until I felt the heartbreak of almost losing someone precious to me,” he confides, his voice trembling with an authenticity that resonates with your intuition.

“Precious?” You echo the word.

The notion seems almost surreal, a subtle revelation that has you momentarily flustered. Your heart flutters in an unfamiliar rhythm, a dance choreographed by the unexpected emotions swirling within you.

He observes your reaction, a gentle smile playing upon his lips as he regards you with tender familiarity. “You're precious to me, Y/N,” he admits, the words carrying an honesty that sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is a caress, drawing you into the depths of his sentiment. For a heartbeat, the world narrows to just the two of you, and you find yourself holding your breath.

He probably senses the shift in your breathing and looks at you in concern, so you force yourself to inhale, coughing a bit as you choke. Once he sees you’re fine, he continues, his words laced with a trace of melancholy. “So… you almost losing your life changed me back. Not fully, though, never fully. I’ll still be able to turn back into a cat and then back into this form. That’s what I’ve been doing while Wooyoung and San come to check up on you.”

The notion of him resuming his dual existence as both a cat and this silver-haired individual evokes a sense of both wonder and sympathy. Your gaze lingers on him, searching for traces of the feline friend you’ve known for so long within the person before you.

“Oh…” The word slips from your lips, laden with a complexity of emotions that you struggle to articulate.

He shifts slightly, his demeanour carrying an air of uncertainty as he speaks. “Um… I can leave if you don’t want me around any—”

You interject, the words tumbling from your lips before he can finish his sentence, a resolute assertion that quashes any hint of rejection. “No! I just… I'll just need a while to… uh… yeah.” You gesture vaguely, the swirl of emotions within you manifesting in a flurry of gestures that you can’t seem to articulate into words. He nods at you, and the silence that falls over the room is punctuated only by the soft rustling of fabric as he shifts his weight.

“Would you like something to eat?” he offers, seeking to ground the situation in something familiar. “I'm not the best at cooking, but I make a nice porridge and considering you haven’t eaten in a couple of days, it's best if you have something light to eat.”

Your quick nod is accompanied by a brief departure and a swift return, a bowl of porridge cradled in his hands. When you notice that he’s about to leave you alone again, you can’t help but call out. “Wait.” As his steps pause in response, you invite him to stay with a gentle smile, the words unspoken but the sentiment clear.

Curiosity laces your words as you venture into uncharted territory. “So… can you still do magic?” The inquiry stems from a genuine desire to understand the extent of his transformation and the implications it holds.

He takes a seat beside your bed, his posture relaxed as he contemplates your question. “I haven't been able to use any magic since you got injured. The demon, he hurt me with the same knife he used to hurt you… and uh, I think whatever magic I have sort of reacted with yours…” His gaze finds yours from beneath the fall of his bangs, an unspoken query hidden within his eyes, “Do you feel any different?”

“I can't tell right now…” As silence settles between you, you sense the opportunity to delve further, to uncover a piece of the puzzle that he’s held close. “What's your name?” you ask, your voice soft yet insistent.

“Huh?” He seems momentarily taken aback as if the question isn’t something he expected.

“Your name,” you repeat.

“Kim Hongjoong.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…” The response seems to hang in the air, a bridge between the past and the present, a marker of his identity before the curse that had transformed him.

An uncomfortable quiet follows, the weight of revelations and the unspoken understanding rendering words momentarily inadequate. Seeking a refuge in the familiarity of action, you take another spoonful of porridge, the act providing temporary solace.

Breaking through the silence, he cautiously inquires, his voice softer than before, “Is it okay?” The gaze you direct at Hongjoong carries an unspoken question, “The porridge?” he clarifies.

Your response is a nod as you offer him a tentative smile that reflects your gratitude. “It's really tasty. Thank you.”

Hongjoong’s nod is a humble acknowledgement, his gaze holding a fleeting yet meaningful connection with yours. As the seconds tick by, another awkward silence settles, but this one holds the gentle promise of the unknown.

That evening as the sunset paints the evening sky in hues of purple and orange, you find yourself in the presence of Wooyoung and San. Their eyes, suffused with the relief of your recovering strength, mirror the unspoken concern that brought them here. Nestled at your side, Hongjoong has resumed his feline form, a steadfast source of familiar comfort as Wooyoung tells you about the people who had gone missing. As the priest banished the demon, they were liberated from the captivity of the demon who was using them as a source to draw power. You are glad to know that Miyeon and the others have safely returned to their homes, and the four of you enjoy an evening filled with the warmth of companionship.

As your body completes its healing process, a newfound awareness awakens within you—an inkling that your magic has indeed undergone a transformation. Engaging Hongjoong in conversation about this, you both reach a consensus that teaching each other about your respective magic could be the key to unravelling the intricacies of your unique connection.

You start small, inviting Hongjoong to partake in nurturing the growth of herbs and other flora and having him observe the delicate craft of potion-making. With patience and thoroughness that speaks to the depth of your understanding, you slowly and meticulously introduce him to the art that has been your life’s calling.

Conversely, Hongjoong takes a more theoretical approach. Armed with the wealth of knowledge he has amassed over the years, he embarks on the journey of studying dark magic alongside you. Evenings become an intimate soiree of shared books, a merging of his wisdom and your practical expertise. The pursuit is not without its challenges, especially for him as the concepts of dark magic are both familiar and alien, a delicate dance between his past experiences and his present identity.

Slowly but surely, the awkwardness of your interactions dissipates, and you settle into a rhythm, an understanding blooming from the mutual pursuit of knowledge. Hongjoong’s presence becomes an inseparable part of your magical undertakings, his assistance serving as both catalyst and amplification. The mundane tasks of your craft transform into collaborative ventures that find their completion with newfound ease and velocity.

In this partnership, you both traverse uncharted realms, unearthing hidden gems of wisdom and forging new techniques. You discover the intricacies of advanced protective charms, the nuances of spellcasting, and the delicate balance between the ethereal and the tangible. Every conversation brings new insights as his eyes aglow with passion while he delves into explanations that light up your understanding.

Hongjoong isn’t oblivious to the subtle shifts in your demeanour either, the way your attention seems to gravitate toward his words with an almost magnetic pull. He playfully teases you when you zone out while listening to him, but beneath his banter lies a quiet satisfaction at having captured your focus.

One summer evening, almost two years after you found and healed Hongjoong, you find yourself basking in the warmth of his presence. As Hongjoong delves into the mysteries of Tarot cards, your attention wavers. Mesmerised by his words, your gaze inadvertently drifts to his lips, where the graceful dance of his explanations seems to take on a sensual rhythm of its own. Lost in the tempo of his speech, you’re barely aware of your growing fascination until the sound of his clearing throat breaks through your reverie. Flushing in embarrassment, you avert your gaze, your heart racing at having been caught by him.

Hongjoong chuckles softly, a melodious sound that carries warmth. His fingers, feather-light and tinged with confidence, slide beneath your chin, lifting it until your eyes meet his. His touch is tender, a silent reassurance that dissipates your unease, even as his eyes search yours with an intensity that ignites a flutter in your chest.

The air between you seems charged with unspoken desires, and as Hongjoong’s gaze darkens, your heart skips a beat. His presence is magnetic, his proximity an intoxicating pull that leaves you breathless. The realisation that this is a defining juncture in your connection dawns upon you, your anticipation matched only by the uncertainty of what's to come.

“May I kiss you?” Leaned in so close that his breath dances upon your lips, Hongjoong’s voice is barely a whisper as he seeks permission, his question hanging between you like a promise. His eyes, fixed on your mouth, reflect the yearning that pulses through his veins.

Your nod is almost imperceptible, a fervent agreement that is all the confirmation Hongjoong needs. His lips descend upon yours with a delicate reverence, his touch a gentle brush that sends sparks through your very being. A deep, resonant purr thrums from within his chest, the vibrations of which reverberate against you as he draws you closer to himself.

Hongjoong’s kiss unfolds with a tenderness that contrasts the unspoken longing that has been growing between the two of you. His lips move against yours in a rhythm that speaks of his own vulnerability, each touch conveying a deeper sentiment. But as you respond in earnest, his tongue glides across your lips, prompting longing to flare through your veins.

Your lips part, the connection broken only for a moment as you both draw a ragged breath. Yet, the space between you feels electric, the air pregnant with the promise of what’s to come. Giving in to desire, Hongjoong’s kisses trail along your jaw, igniting sensations that tumble forth as a soft, involuntary whimper. The velvety brush of his lips against your skin seems to write a narrative of its own as if he’s trying to make a home in your very soul.

With a husky murmur, Hongjoong guides you forward, his voice a seductive entreaty that resonates through your core. As his teeth graze beneath the collar of your shirt, a shiver courses down your spine, “That's it, love,” he exhales, his words a sultry invitation to unravel the depths of your desires. “Let me hear you.”

The fervour of your shared moment is interrupted by a sudden, urgent knock on your door. The sound jolts you both out of the cocoon of passion, and you exchange a hasty yet intense kiss as if to imprint the sensation on your soul before pulling away. Breathing heavily, you share a lingering glance before reluctantly untangling yourself from his embrace and heading to the front door, your heartbeats echoing the electricity that still courses through your veins.

As you open the door, you’re met with the sight of Wooyoung and San, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. They look at you and Hongjoong with knowing smiles as if they can sense the transformation in the air, but they refrain from commenting. It’s a silent acknowledgement of the intimacy that has bloomed between you, and you’re grateful for their unspoken understanding.

In the days that follow, you and Hongjoong continue navigating your newfound connection. The kiss remains unspoken, yet its imprint is undeniable. The two of you seem to share a mutual agreement to explore this uncharted territory without the constraints of labels or expectations, allowing your relationship to unfurl naturally.

With Hongjoong by your side, every interaction becomes a wordless conversation, every shared glance a testament to the bond that has formed between you. The ease with which you navigate each other’s thoughts and emotions astounds you as if you’ve known each other across lifetimes.

With Hongjoong, you find solace and a rare understanding that extends beyond the realms of mere companionship. With him by your side, life seems to flow effortlessly, and even the challenges that come your way are met with a united front, the strength of your connection acting as a shield against adversity.

As time passes, you realise that what you have with Hongjoong is more profound than any bond you could have hoped for had you connected with a familiar. Yours is a love that has grown from mutual respect, shared experiences, and the unspoken promises that linger between your glances.

You might have longed for a familiar as a young witch, but now you realise that fate had something even better in store for you—a soul who understands you in ways words can never express and a heart that beats in harmony with your own. With Hongjoong by your side, you found the person who complemented your magic, someone who loved you and would go to the ends of the earth for you, and you knew that you’d do the same for him.

#collab : stuck in summer #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong headcanons #hongjoong reactions #hongjoong fluff #cromernet #outlaw/precious #ateez fanfic

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talonabraxas · 14 days

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Medusa Spitblossoms Medusa: A Mythological Tale of Maiden to Monstrosity

Medusa, a name that evokes both fascination and terror, is one of the most intriguing figures in Greek mythology. This captivating Gorgon, known for her hair of serpents and the ability to turn mortals into stone, has been the subject of countless artistic interpretations, symbolizing power, femininity, and the complex nature of humanity. Although Medusa is not considered a goddess, she is an important and unique character from Greek mythology, specifically one of the Gorgons, three sisters known for their monstrous appearance.

While Medusa is a notable figure in Greek mythology and has been the subject of various artistic interpretations and symbolism, she is not worshipped as a goddess in the traditional sense. Over time, Medusa myth has been used as a symbol to protect and ward off the negative, representing a dangerous threat meant to deter other dangerous threats, an image of evil to repel evil. In this blog post, we will delve into the myth of Medusa and explore the profound symbolism associated with her enigmatic persona.

The Mythical Origins of Medusa:

Medusa Greek mythology was once a beautiful mortal woman with flowing hair. However, due to a series of unfortunate events, she was cursed by the goddess Athena, transforming her into a monstrous creature. Her once luscious locks were replaced by serpents, and her gaze became the deadly weapon that turned any who looked upon her to stone. This tale of transformation and divine punishment carries deep symbolic meaning, resonating with themes of beauty, envy, and the consequences of hubris.

Medusa Spiritual Meaning:

While Medusa mythology is often depicted as a terrifying monster, she also embodies a potent symbol of feminine power. Her serpentine hair represents primordial wisdom, connected to the chthonic forces of nature and the untamed aspects of femininity. Medusa challenges traditional notions of beauty and subverts the male gaze, offering an alternative archetype of strength and resilience for women throughout history. In modern times, she has become an icon for female empowerment, encouraging women to embrace their unique qualities and reclaim their narrative.

Medusa in Art and Literature:

Throughout the ages, artists and writers have been captivated by Medusa's enigmatic allure, immortalizing her in various forms. From ancient Greek pottery to Renaissance paintings and contemporary sculptures, Medusa's image continues to inspire creative interpretations. Notable works such as Caravaggio's "Medusa" and Bernini's "Medusa Shield" showcase the enduring fascination with this mythological figure. Furthermore, Medusa's presence in literature, from Ovid's "Metamorphoses" to contemporary novels, reflects her enduring relevance as a complex symbol of power, desire, and the human condition.

Medusa as a Metaphor for the Human Psyche:

Medusa symbolism as a figure of feminine power, Medusa also represents the intricate workings of the human psyche. The concept of "petrification" associated with her gaze can be interpreted as the fear of facing our deepest fears and desires, the paralysis that comes with inaction, or the consequences of avoiding self-reflection. Medusa reminds us that embracing and integrating our shadow selves is a crucial step towards personal growth and self-actualization.

Medusa and Poseidon

Medusa greek mythology was described as a beautiful mortal woman before she was cursed. She was said to have flowing golden or auburn hair, which was considered her most striking feature. Her beauty was so captivating that she caught the attention of various suitors and even garnered the interest of the sea god Poseidon.

However, after an encounter with Poseidon in the temple of Athena, Medusa's fate took a tragic turn. According to the myth, Poseidon raped Medusa within the temple of Athena, defiling the sacred space. As a result of this violation, Athena punished Medusa rather than Poseidon. The enraged Athena cursed Medusa, transforming her appearance into a grotesque form to punish her. Her beautiful hair was turned into serpents, her eyes became glowing and petrifying, and her once attractive countenance became monstrous.

It's important to note that descriptions of Medusa's appearance can vary in different interpretations and artistic depictions. Artists and storytellers throughout history have depicted Medusa in various ways, emphasizing different aspects of her monstrous transformation. However, the common thread in the myth is that she was initially a beautiful woman who was tragically transformed into a horrifying creature as a result of a curse bestowed upon her.

Perseus and Medusa

The story of Medusa and Perseus is a well-known tale in Greek mythology. It involves the hero Perseus and his quest to slay the monstrous Gorgon Medusa.

Perseus was the son of Zeus, the king of the gods, and Danaë, a mortal woman. When Perseus was a baby, an oracle prophesied that he would one day kill his grandfather, Acrisius. To prevent this, Acrisius locked Danaë and Perseus in a chest and cast them into the sea. They were eventually rescued by a fisherman and brought to the island of Seriphos, where they lived.

As Perseus grew older, King Polydectes of Seriphos became infatuated with Danaë and desired to marry her. Perseus, reluctant to see his mother wedded to the king, accepted a dangerous task proposed by Polydectes. The king requested the head of Medusa, the only mortal Gorgon, as a gift from Perseus.

The Gorgons, Medusa included, were monstrous creatures with snakes for hair and the power to turn people to stone with their gaze. Medusa, in particular, possessed this petrifying ability. To aid him in his quest, Perseus received various gifts from the gods, including a reflective shield from Athena, winged sandals from Hermes, and a helm of invisibility from Hades.

Using these divine gifts, Perseus embarked on his journey. He managed to find the three Gorgons, including Medusa, in their lair. Avoiding direct eye contact with Medusa, he used his shield as a mirror to observe her without turning to stone. With a swift strike, Perseus beheaded Medusa while she slept. The winged horse Pegasus and the giant Chrysaor, both born from Medusa's blood, emerged from her severed neck.

On his way back, Perseus encountered various adventures, including rescuing Andromeda, a princess, from a sea monster. Eventually, he returned to Seriphos and used Medusa's head as a weapon against his enemies. In one incident, he petrified King Polydectes and his court, avenging his mother's mistreatment.

Perseus later reunited with his grandfather, Acrisius. However, the prophecy came true when Perseus accidentally killed Acrisius during a discus-throwing contest. As a result, Perseus fulfilled the prophecy, but his heroic feats brought him renown and established his place in Greek mythology.

The myth of Medusa and Perseus is often seen as a tale of heroism, triumph over monstrous forces, and the fulfillment of prophecies. It showcases Perseus' courage, resourcefulness, and divine assistance in his quest to slay Medusa and the subsequent events that unfolded as a result.

Medusa's Children

According to Greek mythology, Medusa goddess did have offspring. After Perseus, the hero who beheaded Medusa, two creatures emerged from her severed neck: Pegasus and Chrysaor.

Pegasus was a winged horse known for his incredible speed and association with poetry and inspiration. He became a famous mythological figure in his own right and was tamed by the hero Bellerophon, who rode him on various adventures.

Chrysaor, on the other hand, was a giant or a warrior with a golden sword. His name translates to "Golden Blade." Chrysaor is not as widely known or featured in mythology as Pegasus, but he is often mentioned as the sibling of the winged horse.

It's important to note that Medusa's offspring were not conceived in the traditional sense but were born from her blood or the remnants of her body after her death. They played significant roles in subsequent mythological narratives and were seen as the legacy of Medusa, carrying aspects of her power and essence.

Was Medusa Immortal?

In Greek mythology, Medusa was not immortal. Like many other figures in Greek mythology, she was a mortal who possessed certain abilities and encountered divine beings. Medusa was originally a beautiful mortal woman, but due to a curse placed upon her by the goddess Athena, she was transformed into a monstrous creature with snakes for hair and the ability to turn people to stone with her gaze.

Medusa's immortality, or lack thereof, can be interpreted differently depending on the version of the myth. Some sources suggest that she was mortal and eventually slain by the hero Perseus, who used a mirror-like shield to avoid looking directly at her and beheaded her while she slept. In this interpretation, Medusa's death implies that she was not immortal.

However, other versions of the myth propose that Medusa, along with her sisters, possessed a degree of immortality. They were depicted as beings who could not be killed conventionally due to their monstrous nature. Their immortality was tied to their monstrous form, which persisted despite any injuries inflicted upon them. It was only through a specific act, such as Perseus using his reflective shield to decapitate her, that Medusa could be defeated.

Overall, the concept of Medusa's immortality can vary depending on the interpretation of the myth. In some versions, she was mortal and eventually slain, while in others, she possessed a form of immortality that required a specific method of defeating her.

Is Medusa a Goddess?

Medusa is not a goddess; she's a figure from Greek mythology. She was originally a beautiful woman turned into a Gorgon with snakes for hair. Medusa is often associated with her petrifying gaze.

What Does Medusa Symbolize?

The Medusa meaning is multifaceted and can be interpreted through various lenses, including mythology, psychology, and symbolism. Here are a few key aspects of the meaning associated with Medusa:

What Does Medusa Represent?

Transformation and Metamorphosis: Medusa's story revolves around a significant transformation. She was once a beautiful mortal woman who, due to a curse, became a grotesque figure with snakes for hair and the power to turn people to stone. Her tale represents the concept of metamorphosis, both physically and symbolically. It reflects the potential for profound changes in one's life and the transformative power that lies within.

Complexity and Duality: Medusa embodies the complexity and duality of human nature. On one hand, she is depicted as a monstrous figure capable of petrifying others. On the other hand, she was once a beautiful woman who faced unjust punishment. This duality reflects the intricate nature of humanity, showcasing how individuals can possess both light and dark aspects within themselves.

Reflection and Self-Exploration: Medusa's gaze, which turned people to stone, can be seen as a metaphor for self-reflection and the consequences of avoiding or denying one's own truth. Medusa prompts individuals to confront their inner fears, desires, and shadows. Her story encourages deep introspection, acceptance, and the integration of all aspects of oneself.

Archetypal and Symbolic Representation: Medusa has become an archetypal figure, representing various themes and symbols. These include femininity, power dynamics, wisdom, protection, transformation, and the embodiment of the wild and untamed forces of nature. Her symbolism transcends time and continues to resonate with individuals seeking to understand and express different facets of the human experience.

Medusa in Modern Witchcraft

Medusa's role in witchcraft varies depending on the specific tradition or belief system being explored. It's important to note that Medusa herself is a figure from Greek mythology, while witchcraft encompasses a wide range of practices and beliefs that can be found in different cultures throughout history.

In some modern forms of witchcraft, Medusa energy may be invoked or revered as a symbol of feminine power, transformation, and protection. She is seen as a representation of the wild, untamed aspects of nature and the feminine divine. Some witches may draw inspiration from her story to connect with their own inner strength, resilience, and the ability to face challenges.

In certain magical practices, Medusa's image or symbolism might be incorporated into rituals, spells, or charms for specific purposes. For example, her serpentine hair might be seen as a potent symbol for the awakening of kundalini energy or as a representation of the transformative power of the serpent archetype.

It's essential to recognize that witchcraft is a diverse and multifaceted spiritual path, and individuals or groups within witchcraft traditions may interpret and incorporate Medusa's symbolism differently. Medusa's role in witchcraft is often subjective and open to personal interpretation, reflecting the practitioner's unique beliefs and intentions.

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spectralsleuth · 2 months

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I see you're a Temeraire fan! Any fics you'd want to rec to someone new to the fandom? thanks!

WHO SENT YOU?? It's so funny because I JUST got one of my best friends reading this series (SLAM IS THIS YOU??? MO???), and have been meaning to reread. I wonder how you clocked I was a fan?? I don't think I've reblogged anything recently lol.

REGARDLESS;

Resurgence by ladyshadowdrake

One of the few ABO fics I will admit to having read, because it is such an interesting regency era Pride and Prejudice premise, with one of my all time favorite characters. (Laurence- it's Laurence.) Not that there is anything wrong with ABO, but I try not to bring up mpreg in casual conversation.

The Diplomats Dragon by indecisive_lotus

HAMMOND!!! I love this fic, because I have a deep unwavering love for characters perceived as unlikeable, who are revealed to be given depth. This is such an interesting perspective to the entire Temeraire series, with SUCH a different dragon character from any in the actual series. Churki is such an interesting, stubborn, grandmotherly character who has taken Hammond upon herself like a plague. Fantastic fic, fantastic family dynamics, fantastic outside perspective to the series.

Mutiny on the Reliant by WerewolvesAreReal

PIRATE KING LAURENCE. This reads as all the potential the original Laurence have, just if circumstances were slightly different. Fantastic look into the mechanics of having and loving a dragon, and a high seas adventure to boot.

If you have time, absolutely peruse the authors other fics, because they are FANTASTIC and one of my favorite authors, and have a very extensive list of works that probably have SOMETHING for you.

Okay I can't think of any more right now- but I do have I think a snippet of a Star Wars/Temeraire crossover somewhere lol. Hold on let me look...

OKAY I FOUND IT! This is from 2018. It was a little snippet I scribbled down to possibly expand later, of how dragons would work in space lol. BB-8 is Poe's sweet little combat dragon, Finn steals an imperial dragon- I don't remember the rest, but I had a whole AU planned for it lmao.

(TW gore, burning, implications of slavery)

Dragons came in all sorts of shapes, after millenia of evolution.

Some were wingless, serpentine, and inhabiting aquatic planets where they filtered chlorine based bacteria through sturdy steel-like gills. There were dragons that hibernated in geothermal vents, emerging only with great cataclysm to breed and nest and kill, and sleep again. Like natural disasters. Once the ancestors of dragons long ago gained the ability of cosmic travel, wings scudding through light and solar radiation as easily as birds through air, they spread their seed across the universe and grew roots more varied and colorful than any other species.

The only dragons Rey had seen before had been the vast, cruiser sized things that traversed the deserts of Jakku.

Untamable by either the Resistance or the First Order; implacable, and crossing the stretching desert on clawed feet that shook the ground and made the sand jump for miles around. They survived almost entirely on starlight, with their vast wings built for the absorption of endless desert sunlight, like their star crossing ancestors, reluctant to fly. From a distance they looked almost like cruisers, with solar sails fluttering gently in the desert breeze, and the shimmering haze of the desert obscuring their tree-trunk like legs and low slung heads.

Some enterprising settlers had tried to harness them, in the fashion of colonized planets everywhere, who took advantage of whatever draconic species inhabited the area. Occasionally you’d still find remnants of the taming coalitions who’d made any kind of progress, their shattered bones sucked dry by the thirsty desert, and buildings smashed into shards of durasteel and permacrete.

The herds were unforgiving, and the ruins had been left to their sand and sun and gravel pits.

One taking rare flight was enough wind force to cause storms miles away, heaving the heavy, hot Jakku air like someone stirring soup. They could be seen as a shape in the sky even bigger than that of the two moons, wings that covered the stars and uncovered wrecks that were long since buried with the force of their winds. Scavengers scrambled desperately in their wake, risking the wrath of the herd for undiscovered wreckage.

Rey had seen one fly once when she’d been little and thirsty, dragging a load of fuses as long as her arm on a sled, and sweat sticking her hair to her eyes and face. She’d been covered in dust for days, caked so thick two rains hadn’t washed it away and she’d cracked at her elbows and knees where it had baked hard and red.

But the sight of those massive wings, and the dull mottled brown hide creaking into the cold air like an impossible thing had stayed in her dreams for weeks.

This one struggling in the Teedo’s net was much smaller.

The fading sunlight made it hard to see, the shapes simply an outline of a struggle against the golden sand. But Rey had sharp eyes, and she hadn’t strained or exhausted herself nearly as much as she’d expected to today searching the remains of an Imperial series 5 cruiser. Made it easy to get involved.

“Hey!” There was no response from the Teedo at her irritated cry, only an angry shrill screeching that sounded almost mechanical, the dragon’s elegantly frilled head pinned against its side and claws tangled in the shredded net.

There were two Teedo, both lashing the net to their respective luggabeasts and chattering excitedly. Rey uncertainly thought she caught a few words about coin, and immediately felt a hot rage grip her throat, flipping from mildly irritated to furious. Enslavement wasn’t uncommon on Jakku, but it didn’t change the fact that she personally found it distasteful. She’d been saved from the fate multiple times only by the good will of Jabu, something in the disgusting man's morals holding to whatever contract had inclined him to hire Rey in the first place.

This was someone’s beast, judging by the Alliance-issue harness on it, and they were going to sell it as meat.

“I said HEY,” Rey skidded to a halt as she reached the bottom of the dune, and the little ragged figures jerked back, hissing and chittering angrily at her.

The dragon struggled anew at the interruption, shrieking in fury and kicking up enough dust with its free tail that Rey had to squint behind her own head covering. “That’s a Rebel dragon you’re taking to the slaughter,” She informed them coldly, raising her voice only slightly to be heard over the racket, and the chittering slowed to a sullen muttering.

“Yes! Yes, yes, home, Poe home gone other man take-” The dragon seemed overcome by this, and squalled in fury, jerking towards one of the Teedo, and almost shutting its teeth (net and all) over its extended arm, which was grasping the net. Its words were oddly stilted, short- although whether it was with stress or some impediment wasn’t very clear.

The Teedos shrieked in their own alarm, and in the brief moment they backed away from snapping jaws, Rey leapt over the wildly swinging tail and past their reach. She took her knife to the netting, glancing off of the hard sunset and steel-colored scales running from the dragons brow, to the tip of its tail. She sawed through the netting with no small amount of effort, arms burning and fingers slipping from sweat. The heat coming off of the dragon was incredible in the dry, brisk Jakku evening, and she thought surely it couldn’t be natural. It frizzled the hair on her arms, and rippled the air touching it’s scaly soft hide like an oven heating.

One of the little thieves realized what she was doing and crackled an angry warning, grabbing her roughly by the back of her tunic and throwing her onto the sand- but she was back up in a flash, yelling angrily and swinging the knife still in her hand in a short sharp arc that missed the Teedo by a bare inch. She bared her teeth, furious enough that the way the scavengers gripped their staffs and moved carefully forward didn’t scare her nearly as much as it should have.

But she’d done her damage. With a horrendous series of ripping pops, the net came away completely, and the dragon unfurled its wings and thrashed its way free of the net, knocking one of the luggabeasts over onto its side with a sad groan of metal and a weakly kicking leg. The net trailed sadly from its saddle as the dragon disentangled itself, almost frantic with its movements and chittering too fast for Rey to understand.

It let out a triumphant squall, and drew in an incredibly large breath, chest expanding unnaturally, and throat pouching now that it was freed- and with a clicking rattle like a ripper raptor-

It spewed a hot and dusty flame the color of the blue sands at night across the two who had trapped it. Indigo and glittering, the flame charred the sand enough that Rey thought she caught glittering hints of glass, throwing an arm across her eyes to fight the glare.

It was rife with a chemical fume that sent her staggering back, retching faintly and dizzy with the sudden smell of burning meat and the shrieking of the Teedo, whose arms waved frantically in an attempt to shuck the burning rags off of itself. The second was already prone on the ground and crackling like a merry blaze, the fire turning bright red and greasy as it ate away at its new fuel. The smell was horrendous, as if someone had lit a pile of sodden trash.

Suddenly there was a jerking around her waist that almost made her vomit, sharp and sudden, her breath leaving in a whoosh- and the two burning red dots were growing further and further away on the blueing sands as she was dragged into the sky.

Above her, the dragon shrieked victoriously and chittered and Rey cheerlessly wished that it had at least let her grab her pack half-depleted of ion batteries and broken medical scanners before flying them away.

#temeraire #his majesty's dragon #fic rec #my writing #star wars #(weirdly)#my fic #ask #anon ask

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