#heavily greek myth inspired

[leotheponderer]

Original world (long) lore dump!

My first visualisation of the place where souls go after death, before they are ready to be brought into the underworld by the Boatman inspired by the Greek myth of Charon. Most souls who came before the Psychopomp's (inspired by Thanatos) revival have taken residence and formed a community of sorts who stays and helps the regretful souls who wander along the Liminal Pathways move on.

The Liminal Paths where souls wander through. Those who are troubled by unresolved issues easily get lost in the infinitely winding path, while the residents who have long since come to terms with their circumstances will take a leisurely stroll around the paths, never getting lost as their minds stay clear. Sometimes residents will meet lost souls trapped in the paths and help guide them through their obstacles.

These are inspired by liminal spaces, which are places where one is not supposed to stay at for too long like shopping malls, corridors, staircases, swimming pools, etc. Since this is the Border where souls await the boatman to take them into the underworld, I thought it would be fitting to represent that through liminal spaces as most souls are not meant to reside there, but to move on to their next destination.

Boats of Leisure and a Raft, perfect for souls to go sightseeing. Boat tours are great as they allow a clear view of the ever-shifting Planes of Liminality and the never ending Paths, allowing the viewers to never truly become bored of its sights. Soft yellow flowers seem to follow these water vehicles, but also be generated by the water ripples, creating a magical trail of flowers. More flowers bloom when the Boatman is near, due to his abilities relating to life.

A Giant Blue Dragon swims in these waters. Fear not, it is friendly and loves the flowers.

The Performers are people who go to the Border to entertain the souls there. They can come from both the Outside and Underworld, they are usually brought in by the Boatman or Psychopomp through an exchange program created by the World. Performances can be anything which is visual (magic, dance, song, etc.) or can entertain such as comedy skits or plays (souls can express emotion, and if they laugh, you'll know).

The Keeper is one who cares for all things living in the Border. They are easily recognised by their flaming robes and calming energy as they attend to their tasks of feeding the fishes, keeping the water temperature suitable for the Blue Dragon, checking up on their friend under the land, among other things. They can use his fishing rod to move the water around, creating flowers for the creatures to feed on. They have quite the sense of humour once you get to know them. Ask about their story and maybe you'll know some trivia about the World's history.

The World is here to greet some old friends of theirs. Seems like some older friends may be due for a visit soon.

The Psychopomp (the grey one with wings) is bringing souls over to the Boatman for transport into the Underworld. The Boatman (the blue one with swirls) brings life wherever he goes, and has a title corresponding with that aspect. The boats can phase through solid things and move through the water without much resistance.

[the-cloudy-dreamer]

Sandman Inktober 2023, Day 1 Dream.

So this was a very ambitious thing to do to begin inktober month! I don’t think I’ll be able to do pieces like this for the whole month but I was both tempted by a whole set of ink brushes as I was by my lovely friend who inspired me to do my own version of a Hypnos Dream of the Endless @mathomhouse-e ( psss if you click here you’ll see her own wonderful Hypnos Dream!)

Thank you @orionsangel86 for organizing this wonderful event! I hope I can do more and see more wonderful art inspired by Sandman 🖤

[adhd-mess]

I want to make a poll tournament blog abt villainesses but I’m scared of that fandom

[poorly-drawn-cryptids-homestuck]

Bestiary

John Egbert -> Púca or pooka, is a creature of Celtic folklore, are Fae tricksters and shapeshifters, who take the appearances of horses, goats, cats, dogs, and hares. They can also take a human form, which includes various animal features, such as ears or a tail.

Rose Lalonde -> Eldritch / Warlock, A being that is strange or unnatural especially in a way that inspires fear : weird, eerie. As well as a warlock, one who also practices magic, power fulled by an outside source.

Dave Strider -> Harpy In Greek and Roman mythology, is a half-human and half-bird. Often sirens look harpies and are conflated. So for this au, this harpy is able to sing songs to lure prey.

Jade Harley -> Werewolf or lycanthrope, in folklore, can shape-shift into a wolf (or wolf-like creature), on the night of a full moon. Jade is also a Witch, a woman who practices magic.

Jane Crocker -> Faerie, Fae, or sprite in Celtic Folklore, is a creature with metaphysical, supernatural, or preternatural qualities. and a penchant for trickery

Roxy Lalonde -> Wizard Tressym is a cat-like Monstrosity and a practitioner of magic.

Dirk Strider -> Dullahan in Irish folklore, is depicted as a headless rider on a black horse, who carries his own head. often seen as a symbol of death.

Jake English -> Bigfoot or Sasquatch, in American and Canadian folklore, is a large and hairy human-like mythical cryptid alleged to inhabit forests in North America.

Aradia Megido -> Mothra, a Japanese based Kaiju depicted as a large moth. To be conflated with Mothman, a West Virginian cryptid, for the sake of this au. Currently a Ghost, a spirit of the dead that can appear to the living.

Tavros Nitram -> Minotaur, in Greek mythology, is a creature portrayed with the head and tail of a bull and the body of a man.

Sollux Captor -> Cross roads Demon, found in several folklore, religion, and literature, are often malevolent supernatural entities, who collect souls.

Karkat Vantas -> Cherub Angel, in religion, is an unearthly being. For this au they are similar to cupid. Winged beings who match make. please note that this au will NOT be referencing christianity heavily for this.

Nepeta Leijon -> Nekomata, in Japanese folklore, are a type of yokai, depicted as a shapeshifting cat with two tails. while they can take any form, they will always have the tails.

Kanaya Maryam -> Vampire, in European folklore, are undead humanoid creatures that subsists by feeding on the blood of the living. often able to shapeshift into a bat. and unable to go out in the sun.

Terezi Pyrope -> Dragon is a magical legendary creature that appears in the folklore of multiple cultures worldwide. This one is a western dragon, often depicted as winged, horned, and capable of breathing fire.

Vriska Serket -> Arachne / Jorōgumo. In Greek myth, Arachne is a woman turned into a spider by Athena. In Japanese myth, Jorōgumo are often yokai of a half woman half spider. please note Vriska is not a yokai nor is she Arachne... she is simply a half woman have spider creature, likened to these two examples.

Equius Zahhak -> Centaur, in Greek mythology, is a creature with the upper body of a human and the lower body and legs of a horse

Gamzee Makara -> The bogeyman is a creature used by adults to frighten children into good behavior. Bogeymen have no specific appearances but they are most commonly depicted as masculine or androgynous monsters. In this case, they look like a clown.

Eridan Ampora -> Selkie, in Celtic and Norse mythologies, are creatures that can shapeshift between seal and human forms. For this au, Eridan is part seahorse instead, and often takes the form of a elf instead.

Feferi Peixes -> Leviathan. A very large sea serpent noted in theology and mythology. Feferi is also likened to a mermaid / siren, when not the size of 10 whales.

[boytumms]

Okay don't mind me, I've just been reading too much about various sorts of mythology stuff and... old myths genuinely have a lot more weird pregnancy things than you'd expect (I still find the fact that Odin's eight-legged horse in Norse mytholohy is the son of Loki - whom Loki was pregnant wirh anf gave birth to, mind - way too funny, although that's completely beside the point), so... this isn't inspired directly by a specific myth, but reading random mythology stuff is kinda what put this into my mind

Anyway, I've been thinking of a boy who somehow manages to royally piss off a fertility god. Perhaps he defiles their shrine, or steal some sacred item or mess with their priest - or maybe him just refuses to do something the god wants him to do. And because gods are so well-known for never being spiteful and always giving proportionate and reasonable punishments (extreme sarcasm), the god curses the boy to become pregnant, but unable to give birth unless some extremely specific conditions are met. Maybe he can only give birth at one specific location, or has to eat some specific hard-to-aquire thing to induce labor, or it's one of those seemingly impossible and contradictory "neither at sea nor on land, neither at day nor at night, neither alone nor with other people" kind of conditions (i pulled that specific one out of my ass but you can find similar kind of contradictory and stupidly specific shit in mythology sometimes, you get my point), or some combination of the above, or some other stupidly specific and unintuitive condition, idk.

And the boy doesn't know the condition, of course. The first nine months he simply waits for the pregnancy to run its course, but as the months stretch on past the ninth, past the tenth, with no sign of the pregnancy coming to an end, he realizes he's not getting off the hook that easily. By then, of course, he's so heavily pregnant that everything is difficult - he can't walk very far at once at all, he needs ridiculous amounts of fabric to have clothes that fit, the baby - or babies, rather; he can't tell but he thinks he must have two or three in there - are restless and kick and writhe so he hardly has a moment's peace from them...

So he becomes searching for some solution, some way to birth the babies. First whatever conventional ways there are to induce labor. None of them do anything. He prays and makes sacrifices to the god, groveling and apologizing and begging for relief. No response. Then, he begins to seek out wise people, priests and oracles and shamans, first close by, then traveling further and further away to find someone who could tell him what to do.

It takes years, years of incredibly difficult travel, of weird looks from others and humiliation and yet often having to rely on the aid of other people to get to wherever he's going this time, because really he's in no state to travel except he doesn't have a choice. After the initial nine months, the babies do seem to grow slower than before that, but they do still grow little by little, making the burden quite literally heavier to bear, and they are restless in his womb, as though they too would know it is well past their time to be born already.

But finally, after years of searching, years of torment, the boy finds out the condition, and figures out a way to fulfill it. Once that is done, though, there's still the incredibly long and painful process of labor and giving birth to the babies, now much larger than his body ever was designed to give birth to...

I loooove perpetual pregnancies like this!!! It could even be similar to the Greek story abt Leto, so he’s in labor as he tries to figure out how to break his curse. Imagine him having to suffer through contractions, feeling his baby’s head sooo painfully low in his hips as he tries to push but the curse prevents it from coming out all while he’s in search of a way to give birth.

After years and years of searching, his babies become massive. Even with the slowed growth, they’d be the size of 2-3 year olds by the time he finally manages to fill the conditions to progress his labor. Maybe as he’s finally giving birth to his first baby, the god that cursed him decides to come down, just to torment him one last time before his punishment is over. There’s nothing the boy can do to get way from the god, belly pinning him to the ground with the weight of his writhing babies, unable to escape the wrathful god. Each time his baby comes to a crown, the god pushes it back in, making his scream is sob in agony, begging to be let go as it makes his tummy twist and writhe. He tries to kick and push the god away, but he’s too weak after carrying such a burden with him for so many years, completely helpless in the hands of his tormentor.

It goes on for days, weeks even, the god switching between pushing his babies back into his belly, then and painfully squeezing the swell to watch him thrash. Once they’re sure he’s learned his lesson, they let the last baby slip out between his trembling legs, leaving him exhausted, alone, surrounded by half a dozen massive babies as he’s finally allowed to pass out

[rrcraft-and-lore]

The Monkey King - Sun Wukong who first appears in Chinese stories (Journey to the West) during the Ming Dynasty period 1368 to 1644 CE, well after the introduction of Buddhism to China in about 206-220 CE.

But, was he inspired by another Monkey hero/character of myth?

The prevailing and dominant theory among Asian scholars is ...yeah, likely.

That character, Hanuman, king of the monkeys (the monkey people -Vanaras- of Vedic myth!).

The story follows a Buddhist monk who is accompanied by Sun Wukong and others to travel west to India to obtain sacred Buddhist sutras. Many of their powers and personality traits are similar as well.

We know that Vedic god such as Indra have made their way as far as Japan to take root and be worshipped because of the spread of Buddhism.

As I've talked about before and is shown in texts such as the journey's of Ibn Battuta / Ibn Fadlan, storytelling was a weapon and powerful tool for idea transfer--propagation. Philosophy was huge in the old world - and places such as Nalanda - the first residential university in the world - invited scholars from all over such as Greeks from the west, and the Japanese. Buddhism became a vehicle for trading things such as: martial arts information, medicine, sciences, and of course, myths and stories.

However, as with stories, people usually altered/coopted elements and molded them to better suit their cultures and fancy. That's a thing as old as time. I've shared how the panchatantra stories and jatka tales are thought to be the inspiration for nearly 30-50 percent of all nursery rhymes, ballads, "fairy tales".

Anyways back to this theory - Chinese Indologist Professor Liu Anwu of Peking University has dedicated chapters to the comparisons (in one of his works) to further break down this theory focusing on consistent and or similar depictions of beats in Journey to the West that of Rama's story in Ramayama and the Buddhist sutras.

Even though today the story of Sun Wukong is a wholly Chinese story - it's important to note the power of oral storytelling and how it travelled evolved over thousands of years, and, just as important, the vehicles it used to do so. Not just storytellers and philosophers and travelers but religion! Philosophy!

This is a theme heavily commented on and shown in Tales of Tremaine, which is my love letter and sort of self PhD. in comparative storytelling, mythology, and story foundry through an Asiatic lens (hence a silk road analog) stretching along a similar route the silk road did from damn near as far as you can east (complete with the oceanic routes) to as west as old venezia, portugal, and spain.

Also note: this is the most popular theory atm, but the operative word is theory. Experts likely far better than you, Internet, so chill before you comment, are still debating this. I know last week some of you were doctors in sociopolitical relations, the music industry before that, and then you were leading virologists before that. Spare us simpler folks from your mighty genius just now and sit down.

The point here is the beauty of stories and their ability to travel and morph and comment on themes/points ideologies important to cultures while being entertaining and showing that humans like certain universal moments, beats, archetypes, tropes, and progressions in tales.

Now, is that because we've naturally been predisposed liking them, or the opposite in that everyone went, yo, i dig this, took it home and someone else went, this is cool but needs to be more US (insert culture) and retold it. And thus...timemachine noises speed up. Here we are today?

You might not know that about 35,000 Chinese words ( I said this instead of Mandarin because they don't just show up in one language) are derived from Sanskrit as well as Pali (a Middle Indo-Aryan Liturgical Language -- meaning language of sacredness/religious use, in this case connected to sacred Buddhist texts). It is important to make the distinction, because, Internet!

Sanskrit did not SHAPE the Chinese languages. They evolved on their own. This is just a commentary on how words/stories shaped over travel in this case strongly through the spread of Buddhism.

Religion was the mover.

Back from quick bathroom break. Going to add again - INSPIRED is the keyword here.

INSPIRED.

Sun Wukong is his own mythos/character. Influence doesn't nor can claim dominion over everything in a later tale. Sun Wukong has gone on himself to inspire legends and characters Outside of China - re: most famously and legendary?

Son Goku - who is openly a Sun Wukong inspired character.

...hell, tbh, he might be the most famous monkey inspired super powered character now. Dude makes soccer stadiums air his fights. @_@.

[green-t-ea]

hello tumblr user green tea,

you have been reblogging ultrakill fanart onto my dash for a while. I am a known robot lover, they are funky. and i liked these designs and Situations they were in so i decided to check it out.

Why is it. What. Huh. Hyper religeous imagery? uh. Dantes Inferno. uh- greek myths??? That cannot be the same game those gay robots are from. what.

please explain.

Oh I am so excited for this. So the basic premise of Ultrakill is that all of humanity is dead, hell is full, and blood is fuel. All robots are powered by blood and now hell is the only place they can get it, so swaths of robots descend into hell, which is you have noticed Dante's inferno very heavily inspires hell in ultrakill, with hell being made of layers straight out of Dante's inferno, we have yet to see heaven I'm ultrakill yet but we have seen many angles who also draw inspiration from Dante's inferno, however there is a lot of other religious imagery as well, god has abandoned heaven and earth, hell is alive and also abandoned. Humanity apparently died in a huge war and made the machines that helped destroy them. The angels in heaven formed a very corrupt counsel to try and keep the order in heaven and hell. And have since lead many campaigns against hell and any leaders who try to change the system (minos, yes like the Greek myth guy, and Sisyphus) the main angel we see in game so far is Gabriel. Gabriel is the current judge of hell (he sends sinners to be punished and also does the punishing, because he also killed the previous judge of hell, minos who was the king of lust and worked to make his layer of hell and actually nice place to live).

Really the robots (v1 mostly) take a back seat in the plot compared to Gabe. V1 drives the change that moves gabe along in character development ect. The main goal of v1 is just to well, kill everything, and that's all we do, you learn a bit more about all the machines through reading in game lore and also just, being mentally unwell about the game, apparently hell loves watching the machines fight the denizen's of hell so much that it formed a symbiotic relationship with terminals (basically the shop system) and created a simulation where robots can fight in a battle arena for practice. It's great.

[lizplaylist]

(if you know the name of the person who created this collage, please let me know)

This was heavily inspired by greek myths with female protagonists, a female rage playlist featuring some of my favorite artists like Florence and the Machine, Aurora, Ethel Cain, Kalandra and more.

Hope you enjoy it!

[lou-struck]

Aren't They Perfect?

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

Inspired by the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea

~You get hit with a quirk that makes a marble copy of you. But is that all it really does? 

~This is my Submission for @dark-mnjiro's Taste of Divine Rush Collab. LINK HERE

WC: 4.3k

WARNINGS: Lots of swearing, Mental health is discussed heavily, reader has low self esteem to begin with but it is twisted into obsession thanks to the quirk, multiple voices in reader's head, reader passing out, injury, intentionally skipping a meal, really creepy marble statues, reader goes temporarily crazy. 

A/n: This fic is inspired by Ovid’s epic tale of Pygmalion and Galatea, but it is not a retelling. The projection of the reader's feelings in a way gives life to the statue. 

There is just something so innately adult about walking through the bustling city streets holding a drink carrier. A few people spare you a glance and step out of your path so you do not spill the sweet caffeinated liquid. 

You can see the tall tinted windows of your boyfriend’s Hero Agency off in the distance. It’s a bit out of the way from your usual commute, but Katsuki had forgotten his wallet on the kitchen counter this morning, so you thought it would be best to drop it off for him as well as a cup of coffee and an overpriced croissant from the cafe’s display case.

Noble intentions aside, you are mostly just stopping by to see his grumpily handsome face before he has to go out on patrol.

The doors part for you as you are overwhelmed by the high-pitched shrieks of what looks to be a whole class of elementary schoolers, who look so excited to be visiting your boyfriend’s hero agency. It’s a bit unnerving to see dozens of children just wandering the office halls. Field trips may be normal occurrences for other hero agencies, but this is Dynamite’s Agency we are talking about. Katsuki Bakugou isn’t known for his child-friendly language. 

Speaking of child-friendly language, you spot a frazzled middle-aged woman with bright orange hair and an electric blue dress who mouths what can only be an f-bomb as she runs around trying to wrangle all the students. 

But when they see you, a new face in the building, many of them stop in their tracks and begin to wave at you and smile with gap-toothed grins. 

“Hi there, I’m Ovid.” a little boy with long black curls poking out from underneath his red baseball cap says, stepping forward. “Are you a hero?

You shake your head, “Nope, just dropping something off for Dynamite.”

At the mention of the explosion hero, they look excited and start looking around, chattering amongst themselves.

You shoot the lady from earlier (who must be their teacher) a sympathetic glance as she tries to calm down the once again rowdy students who seem to have forgotten you were there.

Head off down the sunlight hallway; the office seems like a second home after all the hours you have spent with Katsuki. There are little touches of you all around the building, ranging from the artwork you have picked out to the blooming houseplants that rest by the tall windows. 

The blinds inside his office are drawn, which tells you he is inside, most likely reading one of the romance novels he keeps hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk. 

As you push open the door, you hear the slight crinkling of pages and the closing of his desk drawer. The familiar noise made you smile; you were right.

He looks up quickly from his desk, ready to yell at whoever disturbed his peaceful morning, but quickly clams up when he notices just how sweetly you are standing in the doorway.

“Did you really have to sneak up on me like that?” he asks, stepping out from behind the desk, “I almost blasted ya into next week.”

“Your poor sidekicks, do you treat all of them like this when I am not here?” You laugh, raising an inquisitive brow at the solid wall of muscle and spiky hair in front of you.

“Only the dumb ones,” he mumbles, and you really aren’t sure if he is telling the truth or not.

“You have visitors,” you hum, holding out his pastry and drink for him to take.

“I don’t wanna deal with any damn brats this morning,” he grumbles, taking a deep swig from his coffee cup. You smile at his words, knowing that he was the one who signed off on allowing the elementary students to come visit his agency.

“I got your wallet,” you say, reaching into your bag and pulling out the heavy black leather pouch. 

“I know,” He smiles wickedly, taking it from you and tossing it carelessly behind him. “I knew you would bring it over when you saw it.”

Wow, did you, a full-grown adult, really leave your wallet behind just so I would take the time to visit you at work?”

“Yeah, so what?” he shrugs, casually wrapping his arms around you. And you think to yourself just how childish he can be sometimes. Maybe he should go and spend some time with the elementary schoolers downstairs for a bit.

Your gaze drifts to the clock on the wall. “Oh shit, I gotta go,” you say, twisting out of his grasp easily, not spilling a drop of coffee as you do so. 

“You know,” he pouts, puffing out his cheeks and exhaling, “you wouldn’t have to leave me so much if you just got a job here.”

You smile softly, having had this conversation at least a dozen or so times since he opened the place, “If we worked together, we wouldn’t last. You’re way too bossy.”

Although you say the words teasingly, you know that’s not the reason why you don’t want to spend more time with him; Even since you started seeing each other, there has been this little voice in your head nagging you and telling you something you are sure everyone else says. 

‘Katsuki Bakugou is too damn good for you, and everyone knows it.’

But you have been trying to fix that little problem by doing whatever you can to better yourself. You are up for a promotion at work, and if you get it, you could be seen as more worthy of the Hero.  

“Bossy?” he states, pulling you from your thoughts, “I’m only bossy when these extras don’t know what they’re supposed to be doing.”

He opens the door for you and leads you down the hallway from which you came. Glancing in the reflection of the dark conference room mirror, you see a million and one imperfections. 

Does he see them too?

From down the hallway, you hear the teacher from earlier calling after one of her students. “Ovid, come back here.”

Turning head, you see the little box with the red baseball cap rushing down the hallway. 

“Mr. Dynamite, Mr. Dynamite,” he calls, smiling happily. “Check out my quirk.” a soft gray light begins to crackle at his fingertips as he runs towards the two of you. 

It is just so adorable to see the little guy trying to show off his quirk to his childhood hero; you smile. But Katsuki’s eyes widen in concern.

“Hey, slow down. Stop running before you~” he starts to stop the boy, but it is too late; the pair of little feet rushing towards you trip over themselves, sending him crashing to the ground and his quirk directly at you. 

Your coffee hits the ground before you do…

~

You are awakened by the soft sound of the hospital monitors checking your vitals. Everything feels a bit fuzzy as you try to remember what exactly happened to put you in this condition. 

The last thing you remember was Katsuki walking you out of the agency and then one of the kids….

Oh, right, you got hit with a quirk…

You stir just a bit as the feeling begins to return to your body. You don’t know why, but your limbs feel as heavy as stone. At your movement, you hear a breath that is not your own. 

Katsuki sits right next to the hos[ital bed, his crimson gaze staring at you intently. “You’re awake.” The relief is evident on his features as he looks you over. “How do you feel?”

“Like a million bucks.” you rasp, stretching your arms and sitting up. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours,” he replies, watching your movements carefully. “That brat was lucky his quirk was harmless.”

“Oh my god, is Ovid okay?” you ask, remembering the red-capped child. 

Katsuki scoffs, “Brat’s fine; he was just crying until the ambulance came to get you. 

“But?” there is something else he is not telling you. 

“The kid’s quirk is called Sculptor,” He sighs, “It’s supposed to be harmless, but he can make marble copies of the things he hits with it.

You nod carefully as your still-tired brain processes what he had just said, ‘So there is just a big marble sculpture of me in the middle of your agency?” you ask awkwardly.

“Nah, I had the sidekicks drop it at home until we decide what to do with it,” he says, and you grimace. 

Why would anyone want a marble sculpture of someone like you?

“Is it big?” you ask, brushing the thought away.

“It’s fuckin life-size, you gotta see it.” he laughs, the sound ugly and boisterous like a hyena as it echoes off the white walls, but it’s cute in its own way.

“When can I leave?” you ask, already thinking about how you can get the new decoration out of your hair. You heard that there are repurposing centers that can recycle the material for a low cost.

“Right now,” he smiles, helping you out of the bed. Your legs are shaky, but you are excited to get home. “I called your work, and you are off for the rest of the week, so take it easy and take a seat.” He pulls out the wheelchair from behind him and gestures for you to sit in it.

“Do I really have to do that?” you ask, looking between him and the chair, “I feel fine.”

He sighs. “It’s some damn hospital policy; they won’t let me take ya if I don’t wheel you out.”

You playfully roll your eyes and sit in the chair, it doesn’t take long for you to be discharged, but before you leave, one of your doctors stops you. 

“If you start to feel anything strange at all, don’t hesitate to come back. The child responsible is currently having his quirk reevaluated, so if anything comes up, we will contact you.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. “If anything changes, we will let you know.”

The doctor nods before leaving the two of you, taking a whole group of residents with her.

“Hey,” Katsuki asks en route to the car, “Are you sure you’re okay? You had me scared for a second.”

“Please don’t worry, I’m fine,” you say now, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Are you going to go back to the Agency when we get home?”

“Hell no, you dumbass,” he yells in the usual Katsuki fashion, still opening the car door for you like a gentleman. “I ain’t leaving you after you’ve been in the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” you huff, climbing out of the chair and into the passenger seat. 

He ignores this and drops the chair off at the front of the hospital, handing it to a flustered-looking nurse and stalking back toward the vehicle. 

No doubt ready to get rid of you…

The ride is uncomfortably silent for both of you. But as you drive down the road, you can’t help but feel drained. Especially after you pass the agency where this whole mess started. 

Your mind drifts to what must’ve happened right after you collapsed, and you clench your fist to hide your embarrassment.

You never have been a pretty sleeper; you probably don’t look that much better unconscious. You hope you weren’t too messy to deal with.

“Hey, we’re home,” he says, pulling into the garage. “Can you get out by yourself?”

You nod and slide right out of the seat.

“Tell me if you’re gonna pass out again,” he says clearly, still worried about you. 

He shouldn’t waste his valuable time thinking about you.

You walk to the door, Katsuki hovering behind you just in case you faint again. Your body feels a bit weak, but you wouldn’t tell him that. 

 If you seem like too much trouble, he may not want to be with you anymore

Or worse, he feels forced to stay with you.

You look back at him and give him your most convincing smile. “So, where is the statue?”

“The extras put it in the living room,” he answers.

“Does it really look like me?” you ask?

“I dunno; I was too worried about you to look at the damn thing.” 

Walking into the living room, you are almost blinded by the large white statue that sits right in the middle of the carpet. 

“Wow,” you say, approaching the base and running your hand along the arm of the statue. It’s smooth to the touch and soothingly cool against your kinda clammy hands.  

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was life-sized.” squinting, you get a closer look at all the little details in the marble. Everything from the coffee in your hand to the aglets on your shoelaces was turned into solid marble, but when you look at the face of this ‘copy of you,’ you don’t see a resemblance at all.

It looks plain, not like you at all. It actually looks kinda beautiful. Almost as if Pygmillion carved it out of stone himself, like in the Greek myth.

“At least it’s not naked,” you say dryly, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend in response. “But other than the clothes, I don’t think it looks like me.”

He looks a bit confused and looks between you and the statue, but you feel his gaze rests longer on the statue than on you. “It’s a damn copy, but you’re not made of stone, so, of course, it looks different.”

You shake your head no but say no more on the subject. It’s tiring to try and correct him when you know he is just trying to be nice to you. 

How could you ever look like this statue? Where are your pores, your scraps, your moles and bumps? 

You could only wish to look like it. 

The frown still sits on his face in your silence. “Well, come on, how about I make us some dinner, and we can watch a movie later or somethin?” he offers. Quality time is rare between the two of you, but for some reason, you feel like you don’t deserve it tonight.

“Umm, actually, I’m not feeling too great; I think I may just go to bed,” you mumble, stepping away from him.

“Not even dinner?” he calls as you walk into the bedroom. 

“I’m feeling kinda nauseous,” you lie, ignoring your quietly growling stomach. “I think it’s a side effect from the quirk.”

“I’ll make you some damn soup,” he says, “You need to eat somethin.”

Why is he pressuring you so much? Everything would be so much easier if he just let you go to bed. 

He doesn’t have to keep pretending to care about you.

“Katsuki,” you snap in a much louder voice than you meant to. “Just let me go to bed, it’s been a long day, and I just want to not feel like shit.”

He flinches a bit at your unusually harsh tone but stays where he is. “Fine,” he snaps back. “Excuse me for trying to help you. You’re just damn ungrateful.” His words hurt too.

But they are deserved. 

You really are ungrateful.

You just need to give him space.

Heading into the bedroom, you lie down and close your eyes. In the darkness, you lay there for a long time, just thinking about how much of an inconvenience today has been for Katsuki. He had to take the rest of the day off to take care of you, leaving him with what you can only assume to be mountains of paperwork.

Not to mention, You probably terrified those poor kids, scaring them for life. The doctors wasted a bed on you when you were completely fine.  

They should’ve just left you on the floor of the agency. You were far enough to the side you wouldn’t have been in anyone’s way.

A few tears of frustration well in your eyes; they can’t even fall properly. Dripping onto the dark pillowcase in fat, unsightly blobs.

The door opens a crack, and Katsuki comes in. 

Sneakily you wipe away your tears and act as if you are sleeping. You don’t want to say anything else to him that you regret. You’re as stiff as a board as he brushes his teeth, does his skincare routine, and changes into his sleep sweats.

The dip in the mattress tells you that he is in bed with you.

His breath is shaky, and even with your eyes closed, you feel him looking at you. 

You wish he wouldn’t. 

It could give him bad dreams.

You feel his warm, soft lips kiss your forehead tenderly. The act of intimacy makes you want to sob into his chest, but you stay composed.

You’ve always been an ugly crier.

“Goodnight, babe,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair carefully behind your ear. “You really scared me today, but I’m glad you’re okay.”

He lays back against his own pillow, and it only takes a few minutes for the soft sound of his snoring to fill the room, but you stay awake, reflecting on his last two words.

‘Are you okay?’

~

The night has been long and restless. Despite how tired you feel, you cannot for the life of you fall asleep. The stress from the day pricks your skin like needles making you feel stiff and tense.

Usually, when Katsuki’s arms are wrapped around you, you are out like a light but now…

You are just thinking about how uncomfortable he must be

Your body is too warm and clammy to be soothing

You look at him, sleeping peacefully, and sigh deeply. The intake tugging at your heartstrings in sorrow.

He probably would prefer it if you were made of something as cool as marble.

Just through the crack in the door, you see the bright white of the statue. Its milky white face visible in the moonlight.

They’re looking at you…

What an odd pair the two of you must make, The Hero and the Zero. 

It’s too much; you can’t sleep in this room tonight. Carefully you twist your way out of Katsuki's Caramel scented embrace and replace your form with a long body pillow. His brow furrows, but you are sure he’s fine. 

He’ll sleep better if you aren’t near him. 

Your feet carry you out the bedroom door and out into the living room where they are waiting; the pleasant smile on their poreless face greets you as you lay down on the faux leather couch next to it.

The moonlight illuminates their pearly white features giving them such a heavenly glow. 

You could never look that angelic.

You don’t understand how, but the statue even makes your clothes look as if they belong in a museum. Tired eyes rake over each and every last detail of the marble until sleep finally comes to you. 

~

“What the hell are you doing on the couch?” a voice asks, pulling you from your dark and dreamless sleep. Your eyes shoot open and immediately come to rest on the statue. 

Can it speak now?

You look to it for answers, but Its lips remain sealed in that mysterious little smile.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” the voice asks again. The sound coming from behind you. You reluctantly turn away from the work of art and see Katsuki. 

“Mornin Suki,” you say softly, looking up at him with lidded eyes.

You hate the way your voice sounds so early in the morning.

“I said, what the hell are you doing on the couch?” he says; he looks so hurt and confused. 

Did he want to be the first one to see it this morning?

“I couldn’t sleep,” you reply, “It was too warm with the two of us, and I didn’t want to wake you with all my tossing and turning.”

“Then why didn’t you sleep in the guest room? It’s creepy to be out here layin’ next to that creepy statue.”

Creepy? This statue is perfect. It’s better than you will ever be; how can he so easily insult it. 

What does he say about you behind your back?

“You’ve been acting strange,” he says, looking at you with concern. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, just tired,” you say, using the same excuse you gave him last night. “I couldn’t sleep; I think I’m just gonna lay down and go back to bed.”

You should’ve just said that, but of course, you and your big mouth had to add one more little comment.  

“God knows I could use some beauty sleep.”

Your words seem to echo through the apartment, but your stature gives you a little smile of approval. What you said is true, but why does Katuski look so mad?

You are beautiful.” he says, stepping closer. He looks at you with such a sickenly pitiful expression, and he doesn’t touch you at all. He just stares.

You stay there in silence until his phone starts to ring. He answers it at the first chime.

No doubt waiting for an excuse to be away from you

“I have to take this; I’ll be right back, okay,” he says, putting the phone to his ear and leaving the room.

Alone again with the statue, you give it your full attention once again, turning your head to admire it from a different angle.

How could he say it is creepy?

 He settles for you; why doesn’t he just enjoy the You that You could never be?

It’s then you catch a speck of dust settled on the tip of its nose in the sunlight. 

It’s dirty…

It has a flaw…

Maybe he hates it because it reminds him of you…

You are filled with a desire to fix it, rushing to the storage closet to grab an armload of dust cloths to wipe the whole thing down.

It needs to be perfect…

At least one of you does, or else…

You are sobbing by the time you reach its base. You frantically clean the surface, wiping your hand over every inch. Your head is pounding, but through your sobs, you hear something else, 

Screaming?

Cheering?

It’s all the same now.

You are pulled away roughly from The Marble perfection, and you shriek as you are carried farther and farther away from it. Only when the bedroom door closes fully, and it is out of your sight, do you realize that Katuski was the one who pulled you away. 

He drops you gently on the bed but positions himself between you and the door, his muscles a wall of their own. 

“What are you doing?” you gasp, already trying to rush past him

“I’m helping you,” he yells back, throwing the two of you down onto the bed. This time he refuses to let you go.

He must really hate touching you like this. 

But if you clean the rest of the statue, he may love you again.

“I need to see it,” you cry, squirming in his hold, your nails scratching down his forearm hard. “I need to fix it. It’s so dirty; that’s why you don’t love it.”

“I don’t need to love a damn statue,” he hisses at the pain but still holds you closer. “I have you, and I am trying to help you.”

Help you? Is that what he calls it?

Isn’t he trying to leave you?

The fight leaves your body, and you lay limp against him. Your eyes look up at his face expecting to see anger or disgust in the depths of his crimson gaze, but you see that somewhere in your struggle, he is crying too.

“Can’t you see?” you ask in a broken whisper, “They’re perfect; if you don’t want them, then you would never want me?”

His arms wrap tighter around you, physically shaking from the restraint he has placed on his own emotions. More than “They are not real, it’s just a damn statute y/n, I don’t want them. Please, let me talk to you.” Through your exhaustion and distress, his words manage to reach you. You nod softly, not having the energy to do anything else but realize something else.

Not all your thoughts are your own…

“Thank you,” he says gently, “I just got off the phone with the teacher of the kid who hit you yesterday,” his eyes scan your face, making sure you are listening to him. “That Ovid kid’s quirk is more complicated than they realized. It does more than just make statues of the things it hits; it can mess with people’s heads if they stay too close to their own statues.”

You blink slowly, shaking away a melancholy fog you didn’t even realize had settled over you. “I-It’s the quirk?” 

He nods, holding you a bit gentler. “Yes, we gotta smash the damn thing, and you’ll feel better.”

“Smash, the statue?” you repeat. 

‘Why would you do that?’ The voice masquerading as your innermost thoughts of insecurity asks, trying to coax you back into the fog. But this time, you won’t let it.

“We are going to fuck that shit up.” he chuckles, wiping away your tears. “So you think you can do it?”

You nod, “I think so.”

“Atta girl.” his hand flies up to ruffle your hair as you giggle, weakly trying to hit it away.

As a man who appreciates some good old-fashioned destruction, Katsuki has a few sledgehammers just lying around. Once the two of you have some protective eyewear on, you are ready to head back to face the statue.

As you approach it, you take one last look at its face. 

You see the familiar curve of your nose and chin.

“It kind of does look like me,” you say as your boyfriend puts an encouraging hand on your shoulder. 

“You’re way better than this hunk of rock.” he laughs wickedly. The sound fills you with your daily dose of dopamine.

“You’re right,” you giggle, “Let’s smash it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[coinandcandle]

Brigid Deity Guide

Who is Brigid?

Translated as “The Exalted One” in Old Irish, Brigid is a Gaelic-Celtic Goddess of many things including fire, poetry, fertility, spring, and craftsmanship. Other spellings of her name are Brig, Brighid, or Brigit.

Not unlike many of the Tuatha Dé Danan, Brigid is thought to be a Triple Goddess, similar to The Morrigan. Some believe this means she is three sister goddesses or that she is one goddess made of three different aspects. These sisters, or aspects depending on your belief, would be Brigid the Healer, Brigid the Smith, and Brigid the Poet.

By far Brigid was one of the most popular goddesses of the Celts, as she had variations across the Celtic world where her name was Brigantes or Briganti.

The Welsh know her as Ffraid, in Scotland her name is Brìghde/Brìde.

Parents and Siblings

Dagda (Father)

Aengus (Brother)

Midir (Brother)

Aed (Brother)

Cermait (Brother)

Bodb Derg (Brother)

Lovers or Partners

Bres

Children

Ruadán

Epithets

The Exalted One

The High One

Brigid of the Hearth

Notes

Though the Dagda has been established as Brigid’s father, it’s not certain who her mother is. Some say Danu, others say The Morrigan, though this is less likely. I personally have yet to find anywhere that names a mother with any evidence.

Brigid is considered a Mother Goddess.

Brigid has been conflated with the Catholic St. Brigid, who was the daughter of a converted Druid. It is believed by some that St. Brigid of the Catholic church was inspired by the Goddess. The two share many features and even a holiday.

St. Brigid’s day is February 1st and lands on the same day as the Irish-Pagan holiday Imbolc, leading some folks to believe that the saint is a Christianized version of the ancient goddess. However, no study has found there to be any historical link between them.

Brigid was likened to the Roman Minerva, the Greek Athena, as well as the Proto-Indo-European goddess of the dawn.

Brigid has also been known to go by Dana or Danu, though they are also separate deities.

In mythology, Brigid invented Keening, which is a mix of weeping and singing while mourning the death of her son.

Brigid is heavily linked to Irish Holy wells.

Brigid is also known for prophecy as she was worshipped by seers.

She is associated with fire due to her associations with the hearth and smiths

Ultimately there is very little historical information about Brigit, surprising considering she is so popular now and was popular even in the past.

Modern Deity Work

Disclaimer - Not all of these are traditional or historic correspondences nor do they need to be. However, any correspondence that can be considered traditional will be marked with a (T).

Correspondences

Rocks/Stone/Crystals

Gold

Brass

Iron

Fire Agate

Warm colored stones

Herbs/Plants

Oak (T)

Rowan

Clovers

Heather

Chamomile

Early spring flowers

Blackberries

Animals

Boar (T)

Oxen (T)

Serpents

Offerings

Milk (T)

Honey

Alcohol

Candles

Coins (T)

Acts of Devotion

Light a candle

Hold a bonfire for her (or use your fireplace)

Create or recite a poem for her (T)

Hone your craft, whatever it may be!

References and Further Reading

Brigid, Bright Goddess of the Gael - Mythicalireland

Brigid - Mythopedia

Brigit - Britannica

Brigit - Mythus Wiki

Brigid - Druidry.org

Myth and Legends of the Celtic Race by Thomas Rolleston via Sacred Texts

Song of Brigit - Celtic Wonder Tales by Ella Young via Sacred Texts

The Spirit of the Celtic Gods and Goddesses by Carl McColman and Kathryn Hinds

Devotees and Followers to check out:

@mrs-k-cottage-witchch

@polyteleology

@the-purvashadha

as recommended by the community.

Edited for accuracy.

[mask131]

Hello ^^

So just asking, how would you recommend people research about Greek Mythology? Do you recommend they read from the source material or do you suggest any other sources?

Both.

On one side, it is definitively needed to read the source material. How else are you going to understand Greek mythology if you have never read the Odyssey or the Iliad or the Theogony? Mind you, what I usually advise is for people to get good annotated editions, so that they can fully understand the translation nuance, the cultural context and the strange allusions within the various texts and epics. Yes it is nice to just read the text for what it is... But given each text that formed Greek mythology has hundreds of various translations, and each one sparking new debates, it is always very useful to have more "professional" editions, and it is always good to compare various translations.

After that, just reading the basic texts like the Argonautica, Homer's works, Hesiod's works and other epics will leave you a bit lacking, because a good chunk of what we know as "Greek mythology" does not come from these texts, but from archeological research, various scholia and other non-fictional records. As such, it is always needed to go read professional texts about Greek mythology. Essays about the religion and the cultures of Ancient Greece ; encyclopedias and dictionaries of Greek gods and Greek myths ; university-articles about very specific subjects ; art books about the Ancient Greek statues and paintings, books about the mystery cults or about the old Greek symbolism. All of this is needed to fully understand what Greek mythology was about.

So, to answer your question: both. And that is true for all mythologies. It is impossible to get a mythology without reading the texts that preserved the myths (it is like trying to make a paper on a novel you haven't read - it is possible, thanks to second-hand record and Wikipedia recaps, but misinformation or missing elements are sure to pop up) ; but given old mythologies are separate from us by thousands of years of cultural change and historical evolution, it is also needed to read what people who spent their entire life and career studying Ancient Greece have to say. It is through them we actually know what Greek mythology is - it is through them that we can have little children novel rewriting Greek legends, or teenage romances taking inspiration from Greek heroes.

So there is no just one or just the other. Both are needed, else one is going to have an "incomplete" view of Greek mythology.

(Same thing applies to Norse mythology, by the way, especially since the Eddas and other source texts similar to them are from a very particular context and relie heavily on enigmas, riddles, poetic metaphors and inside-jokes, thus a critical literature is needed to fully understand them)

[drops-of-moonlights]

Mythix! Es una combinación Mythix! De fantasías y aventuras! Una experiencia nos espera En un mundo legendario El poder de Mythix! Ahora juntas lo sentimos Mythix! Y así nos sorprendimos Volamos, luchamos y enfrentamos Los misterios sin final Mythix llega ya!

The Mythix retouches are here! Almost on time with the 19th anniversary of the series lmao. This one doesn’t have as many retouches as the others (outside Roxy, and Stella and Tecna to a smaller degree) because I’m still fond of the last designs. A bit of a refresher below!

the TLDR of Mythix is “the Order of Mana made it through questionable means, if you unintentionally mimic a story, myth, folklore, legend or the like (or commit an act worthy of becoming one) you get this form modeled after both the story and the fashion of the person’s realm”. As such, each of the girls’s outfits are essentially modernized versions of typical clothing back in their homes. All of them are, of course, then based on the actual culture I primarily took from real life to build their realms:

Melodeus is obviously mainly inspired by China, and so the primary inspo for Musa’s Mythix was the qipao and the shuhe, with some more modern and punkish details to fit with Musa’s personality.

Linphea in the AU is primarily based on Colombia, and Flora’s Mythix is a shortened adaptation of Andine Colombian folklore dresses, which are commonly used for dancing, going along with the legend she dealt with.

Scintil’s main inspiration is Norway, and with this Bloom’s Mythix is a heavily-modified bunad in shape. Her hair ribbons alongside her cone buns are meant to mimic a dragon’s horns and whiskers, respectively, to go alongside the myth she fought with.

NOW ROXY’S INTERESTING LMAO. Her story, being from Earth, was Tam Lin, but as Roxy’s original realm is Tir na nÓg (which while taken from Celtic folklore she wouldn’t be Celt nor Irish herself), her attire is instead based off what was the typical attire at the time. (It’s based on Morgana’s canon fairy form, which is ironic as the “villain” in the way she dealt with the myth was heavily fashioned after AU!Morgana’s Ascendix.)

Solaria is mostly based on Hellenistic regions (so it covers pretty much the entire Mediterranean area), and her form is primarily fashioned after the Greek chiton, with some inspiration from the later Roman footwear and a minor inspiration in Egyptian belts.

Andros is primarily inspired in Ethiopia, with Aisha’s Mythix being modeled in modernized and modified versions of both men and women’s styles. Her puffy shorts and the frills at the edges of her vest are also vaguely inspired by jellyfish, as the myth she dealt with involved a gigantic one.

Finally, Zenith has an incredibly vague mix of both Victorian England and Russian menswear, because Butch Tecna Supremacy, and it’s meant to represent the standard working-class attire, fitting the role she fulfilled in the legend.

[imthepunchlord]

Do you associated turtles and snake with water or earth

Gosh both are tough.

Honestly, turtles are the hardest one with these two, cause you could tie turtles to both elements. In my research, I've found most cultures associate turtles with water for a variety of reasons: them often being in or near water, them having a connection to the moon as the bottom of their shell as 13 slots like the lunar calendar, and the moon is often associated with water.

You also have turtles withdrawing into their shells, which can echo the water element often associated with being inward, introverted, introspection. They are symbols of wisdom and associated with keeping up with history, and water is an element that can be tied to knowledge, wisdom, and learning, especially as water is an element that will explore and expand. And you can work off that it's tied to longevity and survival, always able to adapt and go with the flow.

But turtles tied to earth can also work too. Cause there are mythical world turtles and turtle islands, they echo the earth itself as they support whole ecosystems on their shell just as the actual earth has a whole ray of life on it. Earth as an element is also known to be patient and wise, responsible and will take time to see to it that things are done correctly, even if it's a slow process. Turtles are tied to that too, like the Tortoise and the Hare. You can also tie turtles to being grounded/earthbound, always sticking low to the earth and going into it to hibernate.

I think there are more points for turtles to elementally be tied to water, but that can come down to preference. In my opinion, water and earth can work fine for turtles.

Now with snakes, I'm actually torn between water and fire, earth isn't an impossibility, I think the Greeks tied snakes to earth since they came out of the earth, and there is the World Serpent, and snakes can be slow moving and earth is an element that lives without rush; but the biggest factor is that snakes I always associate with movement and being spontaneous, like suddenly striking and always on the move.

So water and fire are the elements that stand out to be more snakes as they are both elements of activity, both are tied to cycles, and both can be tied to life and death (much likes snakes also symbolize that duality). And both are also heavily tied to dragons, which snakes have a long history of being associated with and potentially helped inspire the myths of (Chinese dragons, the Naga, Ouroboros, Python, wyrms, lindworms, sea serpents, ect.).

With water, snakes can match by being very fluid. Much like water, they creep along, will hardly ever be stalled and will always find a way around their obstacles and slither up to where they desire to be. They also do echo that introspection, as they are tied with wisdom and knowledge, but they are also mysterious and it can be hard to know what a snake is thinking or feeling. Much like water goes through a cycle, with Ouroboros, snakes are tied to cycles of self-destruction and new beginnings. And for the duality symbolism, water is needed for life and snakes are associated with healing, even a symbol of healing.

But just as snake venom can be lethal, so can water as people can drown in water and flooding can be devastating and overwhelming.

With fire, snakes are tied to fire through fear and power. Majority of people have an instinctive rush of fear when they see snakes, and fire is a unique element that can spark fear too. It's probably one of the biggest reasons many western dragons are tied to fire cause it can be devastating and powerful.

It's also a curious element that doesn't naturally exist in the world like earth, air, water, and wood/nature does. It's something that just manifests under certain conditions. And with how destructive fire can be, that can play off snakes as animals that are feared, that can do some serious damage, and part of the reason they were tied to the Devil in the west as Hell was tied with fire.

Fire though is also an element of knowledge, clarity, provision, life, protection; and hey, snakes are all tied to that as well. They can be tied with imparting wisdom and offering direction, can be tied with guardianship and security.

Fire also matches with that duality of life and death, as they can flare with life and energy and then go out into ashes, but can be reignited. And of course that duality of good and evil, as this element can give a lot of good but also do a lot of bad (much likes snakes in symbolism).

So, I'd vote water or fire for snakes personally, but that does come down to preferences. If you like earth for snakes roll with it, I just associate them with water and fire more.

[delusion-of-negation]

stop simping for fucked up copyright laws bollocks just because plagiarism is the new buzzword. there actually is this huge huge huge difference between passing off paragraphs upon paragraphs of work as yours, when it isn't, and somebody putting in loads and loads of time and effort to make game models, entirely from scratch, inspired by another game (no matter how heavily inspired and similar), building a whole fucking game yourself. people have been just building upon each other's work for thousands and thousands of years - from roman versions of newer greek retellings of ancient ancient greek myths, but maybe even older, to entire music genres. we are all inspired by things, nothing is original, but there just isn't anything good that comes of simping for mega corporations attacking people for making a vaguely similar thing that took some inspiration from theirs.

[littlesparklight]

<3 thank you @papillon82fluttersby :D

The Rules: Tag (9) people you want to know better and/or catch up with, then answer the following:

Four ships:

Zeus/Ganymede: feel like it'd be a crime not to start here, haha. I've always been into mythology, but randomly thinking about Ganymede's myth a couple years ago now (that long!!) got me wanting to read Greek myth stuff, and I started with the Iliad (for the Trojan-related angle) and the Bibliotheke, and so. I might currently be more focused elsewhere but this is still my beloved ship <3 You can do so much with them, and, especially, I'd say, by interpreting them as mutually in love. There's obviously other m/m couples in Greek myth and even one of those that at first looks tragic doesn't need to end that way (Apollo/Hyacinthus) but there are so many reasons Zeus/Ganymede is the one that has me by the throat.

Menelaos/Paris: Honestly, looking back I'm not quite sure how I didn't zero in on this one from reading the Iliad itself the first time, because this is definitely one of the flavours of ships I love. This ship is also what led to, first, Helen/Menelaos/Paris for me and then Helen/Paris, because 99% of the time I just don't care at all about het ships. This ship is also why I currently am like I am about Paris! Make no mistake, I didn't hate or dislike him before that, either, like the majority of Tumblr (and elsewhere) seem to do; reading the Iliad I mostly thought him kinda hapless and inoffensive, so going from there and liking him wasn't that big of a step. The possibility of them having bonded during those nine days in Sparta (or in Troy!), going from friends (or more) to enemies with complicated feelings still in the background is just so damn juicy to me.

Carmilla/Laura: original novella flavour! One day I hope to do a rewrite/retelling of my own, that would definitely end with Laura going or otherwise together with Carmilla, one way or another. The way Carmilla talks to/about Laura and what they feel for each other is just. so great. The caterpillar quote. The one about Laura loving her or hating her, and especially "love will have its sacrifices; no sacrifice without blood". And you know. The boob-biting to feed is extremely inspired and very hot, even if Le Fanu undoubtedly didn't mean it that way. I don't care. They're mine now. :)

Darth Vader & Luke Skywalker: Since I am so deeply into gen&family ships aside from romantic/sexual shipping, it feels, again, like a crime not to mention these two. The ST might have broken the back of my fannish engagement in SW currently, but these two? I love them. I love Luke's impossible and earnest belief in his father's inherent goodness, I love that fucking scene at the end of ESB where Vader reaches out and Luke reflexively, despite everything, says 'father?' HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE IT???

Last song: Oh, uhh... I don't remember, but it's possible it was Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer (happens to be one of my Helen/Paris songs for late war lol). I end up listening to a row of songs while drawing, sometimes (which is the only time I can listen to music and actually do something else at the same time), but it could have been another one, just as well.

Currently reading: Iliaden - en cover, by Dimitrios Iordanoglou, which is a (pretty heavily, sometimes) abridged and modernized version of the Iliad where the language is extremely slangy sometimes and the setting has been moved into "present day". Everyone uses guns and stuff. Apollo's main epithet is now "the Bomber" lol and he uses bombs and grenades. It's both extremely fun(ny) and really interesting, even if the language used sometimes make me wince even when I get why he's chosen it. But it's exactly because I know the changes he's made etc. that makes it extra interesting. When he keeps lines word-for-word from the Iliad they both stick out and fit in very well and it's interesting to see that, too. Also, and much longer than the above, is Paris in the Epic Tradition : a Study in Homeric Techniques of Characterization by Roberto Nickel, his thesis from 1997! I've mentioned it before; Nickel is exploring the possibility of the Iliad having changed/presented Paris (a lot) differently from how he might have been in traditional oral epic material. It's really interesting!

Last movie: Dungeon and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves! Loved it, a lot of fun, and despite how long it was, it all moved along at a good clip, nothing dragged.

Craving: Uh... :C Fics/art for my rare pairs? lol

Tagging: @a-gnosis @battlinghurricanes @crowlilies @my-name-is-apollo @scribeprotra @kebriones

[italoniponic]

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, @diavolosbaby and dear readers~ This is the part finale of my Idia’s scenario, “Winter Melts Into Spring”, and our 50th and last request for the Cherry’s Harvesting event. As I said, this fic got so looong, that I had to split it into two parts.

Curiosity: the title of this fic is inspired by a track from Fruits Basket’s (2019) soundtrack, the original name being “Snow Melts Into Spring” and its alt and longer version, “Spring Will Come When the Snow Melts Away” (here so you can listen to if you’re curious). For those who don't know, the myth of Persephone and Hades is what explains the change of seasons and that’s why this theme is so heavily implied here, just as other videogame references (tho I’m not much of a gamer myself… ik Idia, shame on me).

Hope you like the part finale and I really hope I did justice to Idia’s character, I tried the best I could. I needed to condense most of the story or this would be a longfic and not a one-shot. And it’s already a hell of a long one-shot (for my normal amount of writing, at least). Now, grab a hot beverage, a blanket if its cold where you are (its here for me) and hope its a good read.

Thanks for the request <3 |

Idia Shroud x gender neutral reader / scenario / part 1 (here)- part 2 (3550k words) / mentions of breakup with Vil Schoenheit / angst, hurt and comfort, fluff / seasons and greek mythology references / minor chapter 6 mentions and references / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry’s Harvesting 🍒 Masterlist

Winter Melts Into Spring

{𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈, “𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐬”}

        You quickly turned to him, waking up from your incessant thoughts. It was another game night and you were sitting side by side in his bed, cellphones in hand. As your game was over, you became a bit dispersed.

        “Have you listened to Euterpe-ram’s new playlist?,” Idia shyly showed you his phone, your surprised and intense gaze had taken him by surprise at that moment.

        Without paying much mind, you read the title, the number of songs and the cover image, things that made you sigh. Then, almost in auto mode, you said:

        “It took me a hell of a lot of work to find that image…”

        Panic hit your senses as you turned your gaze to Idia and he looked as painfully surprised as you. You tried to think of something to say but he quickly realized what was going on.

        “Are you Euterpe-ram?!,” Idia exclaimed. You see his brain cells going short-circuit. “W-when? Come again? Ah! What you said... about what I thought… the playlist…? You wanted my opinion? Is that why?! I had no idea!”

        Idia held back a little as he noticed that you had cringed in your place, a little shaky from the quick way he was speaking. You knew that Idia spoke like that when he was agitated and although you had been amused by this little quirk on other occasions, at that moment you felt as if you had dropped a bomb.

        Well, was it a secret worth hiding? Actually, everything that happened was just an omission of information. 

        As you regained your composure, Idia looked back at his phone and remembered the playlist he was listening to when you walked into his room that night. Songs to listen to when you're heartbroken but don’t want to admit it. 

        When he found that title, he thought it was a strange coincidence to find something that could express so well what he was feeling at the moment — and Idia already had a bad opinion about coincidences. 

        There are no such things. Everything happens for a reason. And he was right in part. Idia didn't have to ask why you had created that melancholic playlist about love. Given your situation, there was no other reason.

        Mindlessly, Idia went to Euterpe-ram’s profile — your profile — on magify and found the playlist he wanted to review with you. This one, with a completely different theme, was pretty much the opposite of its playlist-sister. A playlist of positive love songs and some hesitant, longing ones. Again, you two were in sync yet by pure coincidence. How was that possible?

        “This playlist... is cool,” Idia said suddenly. You nodded silently, not knowing what to say.

        He had noticed that you were slowly returning to your usual “you” along the weeks, going back to being the endearing spring that captivated him so much. The choice of those songs seemed a manifestation of that. 

        “Are you in love?,” this question slipped away unintentionally, and Idia’s heart failed for a second. “S-sorry! I shouldn't meddle in these things!”

        “Nice move, Idia! Go there, spoil these good times you have been having!” He wanted to hide somewhere, but he was already in his own room. There weren't many places to run at the moment.

        “It’s alright... I think that would be inevitable to talk about,” you replied. You were completely turned to him but your gaze was caught in the zipper of his coat, an easy point to stare at as you talked about these complicated feelings. “A fantastic thing happened to me…”

        Idia felt as if he had stepped into a bath with cold water, disappointment already taking over his heart. He already had an idea of what was going to happen. You’d say who you were in love with at this time, he would inevitably be the Protagonist’s Friend once again — an improved version, he tried to convince himself to be — and you two would have a long, awkward conversation about love.

        “What happened?,” he asked in a low tone, since you had paused the sentence in the middle.

        “You.”

        At that, you looked up and bravely, faced Idia’s eyes. You were like a mythological hero facing the depths of Hades, ready to throw yourself into an epic adventure of life and death with no regrets. On the other hand, Idia felt like you had slapped him.

        “W-wha-what?,” he didn't even know what to say. How to talk. How to put words together. How to form a coherent sentence. His hair seemed to fry his neurons again, pink crackling at the ends.

        “It's a long story... but at first, I was always curious about you. It's hard not to notice you, to be honest,” you tried to laugh a little to relieve tension. “The more I talked to you, this curiosity increased and I really wanted to be your friend. I have met many nice people all these months and you are all special to me... well, I admit that you and Vil have had a certain prominence.”

        You sighed, like a flower after a strong breeze shakes it in the field but doesn’t get taken from from its roots.

         “Perhaps I’m a very aesthetic person and never noticed it, but Vil’ beauty captivated me. Just like you. But in different ways. And at first, I thought my admiration for Vil had become strong enough to be a passion. Epic love like in the movies, you know? Two hours of film for a splendid and satisfying ending. But it was… not so. It wasn't love. It was something good, positive, full of empathy... but not love.”

        It was the first time Idia noticed a bit of winter in your eyes, as if a snowflake had landed on one of your petals. Your gaze had dropped a little, you were still playing with his coat’s zipper — you liked to stare at that little skull for some reason. 

        Idia bit his tongue, trying to stop himself from saying something, but he couldn't help but ask:

        “When you talked about your breakup with the Vil... well, it always bothered me a little,” having said that, your gaze returned directly to him. “There's something very vague, you know? Something you didn't say. What was it?”

        He felt a bit stupid asking that. Truth be told, he was afraid of this conversation and what could happen. Still, he wanted to understand the situation better. Vil and you seemed like the perfect couple — so, what went wrong? 

        You talked about incompatibility but it only seemed like half of the truth. Something that had happened, however, wasn't the main reason. Something you wanted to say but didn't. Part of Idia wanted to know what it was, meanwhile the other wanted to be consumed in flames and simply disappear from there. 

        For a moment, you hesitated about giving him an answer. Quick flashbacks of some of your conversations with Vil flashed through your mind. During the time you spent together, you talked about a lot of things — especially after his overblot. But most subjects ended up stopping at a specific topic.

        “When we broke up, we talked about some problems between us. Things that happened but we didn't know how to solve them. Vil said that I was talking a lot about you. More than anyone else,” you revealed, feeling your heart tremble for a second. It was as if something burned inside, taking away the cold from before.

        “Because of what happened to me...?,” Idia risked saying.

        “No,” your answer was immediate. “Before that. I asked what you were like, if you were always so reclusive, if there was a way I could talk to you, if you two were in the same class. A lot of stuff. I said, you make me very curious.”

        “And I don't know why.”

        It had been a grumble that Idia let slip and fastly, he covered his mouth, looking away from you. You already anticipated such a reaction from him and, contrary to what Idia thought was going to happen, you smiled at him.

        “You're more interesting than you think, Idia,” you giggled as you watched him try to hide inside his coat, but the pink ends of his hair didn’t lie. “You can deny it all you want but you are someone very intriguing. Your way of acting, of dealing with the world... I want to understand and know all this.”

         From the depths of Idia’s hood, his eyes began to stare at you as if you were the weird one there. You leaned more into your pillow, your head tilted and looking at him the way someone stares at their favorite packet of snacks they haven’t found on the shelf in months — and finally Sam had stocked up on them again. 

        Were you trying to kill Idia?! Was this your evil plan? Not you, the sweet deity of spring, being a character with a secret sadistic side underneath your gentle smile and gaze sweet as honey and ambrosia. 

        “Maybe I should have been honest with Vil from the beginning. Maybe if I had better understood what I was doing... my own feelings,” you sighed. 

        “Did you really talk about me that much?,” Idia asked, still incredulous. 

        To his great surprise, it was your turn to take an embarrassment hit with medium damage. It was a little dark inside his coat and the lights weren’t extremely bright — even if it managed to illuminate the room well — but even so, Idia had the strange impression that your face was tense and flustered. 

        “Maybe... enough to make Vil a little jealous…”

        “WHAT?!,” Idia exploded out of his hood. “In what universe is this possible?! What kind of scenario is this? Vil Schoenheit envy me? Under what circumstances? Does he have to act like a socially awkward guy who doesn't go out in the Sun and has dark circles under his eyes and he, at the must of perfectionism, hates the fact that his makeup doesn't give as realistic an impression as my appearance? Never!”

        Idia had heard of stories of a goddess of love being jealous of some very beautiful mortal women — but in those stories, there was the implication that she had a pretty good reason to envy them. Would anyone, under any circumstances, envy Idia Shroud? 

        “Idia, your hair!,” you warned him.

        The flames of his hair were in an interesting gradient of blue, orange and pink, mixing all his emotions at once. Idia took a deep breath and tapped his long locks back to its usual blue. Was he still angry? Yes. Embarrassed? Extremely. Confused? Even more every second.

        However, his agitation has yet to be overcome. In the heat of the moment, Idia held you by the shoulders for you to face him directly. His grip was firm but weak enough for you to let go of him if that were your desire. He felt like someone who hurriedly picked up a large handful of wheat in the field to run and protect it from the heavy rain.

        Your cellphones lie forgotten somewhere between the bedsheets, unaware of the emotion-filled moment between their owners that would make tragedy plays and shojo anime envious. 

        “Please, just explain to me why you are so obsessed with me,” Idia asked, desperate. He could no longer endure such uncertainty and confusion. “You’ve finally met me! There you go! Game over. It takes no more than a day to understand how I act, how I eat and my habitat. I’m the lamest kind of lab mouse there is! How can you have fun with me?! Either you’re too bored...!”

        “Idia, you don’t understand! What I feel for you isn’t an obsession.”

        “Hyperfixation?,” he tried to correct it.

        “It's love, Idia.”

        On the Isle of Lamentation, the only grasp of vegetation is a series of large shrubs around the entire island to keep oxygen levels regulated and healthy. Nevertheless, there weren’t many flowers — or anything Idia had ever been interested in planting and observing. But he wondered if the opening of a flower bud was equal to your eyes blinking in his direction.

        “Love?!,” Idia’s blood boiled and exploded again. His hair rose in a big, hot pink blaze.

        You weren't shaken by his reaction this time. On the contrary, his heart beat fast in continual captivation — and a certain amusement too. 

        Idia was this big papyrus that was easy to open, even if it was hard to read at times. But you could understand him perfectly. Maybe it was a gift, maybe you just were very similar to him or there was some other reason. What mattered, deep down, was that his mannerisms endeared you in a way that not even the fairest of them all could. 

        You didn’t bother to ask how this was possible. 

        You already entertained yourself with the possibilities of the Underworld by facing the place from afar. When Ortho — your petite Charon — took you there, a poor sorrowful soul, you let yourself be led like someone who had no choice. Dying is never a fully realized wish, there is always some sort of regret and fear. For you, for others.

        Yet, the lord of the dead received you in his realm even in your deplorable state and let you wander there, no longer as a soul but as an equal. Someone who could belong there and make your own pomegranate garden.

        “These last times have been the best. I’m grateful for your kindness and your patience with me. This whole time you have been acting like yourself around me,” you said. “While most people here are walking on eggshells about it and another part doesn’t really care, you managed to balance the two things perfectly.” 

        Your friends sought to avoid talking about Vil. Your more distant colleagues couldn’t be less shaken about any of this. Ortho wanted to cheer you up because he had the purest of youthful hearts. And Idia just stretched out a game control for you and listened to a playlist beside you — your own pain, whether spoken, whether chosen musically.

        He didn’t have a heart of stone. He cared about you and, in his own way, he made things easier. If it was someone else, you wouldn’t have recovered so quickly. This conditioning made you feel self-doubt about what you felt. 

        But doubts aren’t such a powerful titan that cannot be overcome sooner or later. 

        “To tell you the truth, getting to know you better has only made me realize that it is you who gives me the biggest comfort to be who I am. Here there are no worries, pressure, challenges. I'm just me... and you're just you. Every day, I discover something new about you, Idia, and it's valuable. Genuine. Feel right.” 

        The more layers you peeled off of Vil, you found that he covered himself with others. He didn't want to worry you beyond what was necessary. His heart was a castle with a trapdoor, dungeons and endless catacombs, things he didn’t want you to explore in any circumstance. He wasn’t ready yet.

        One day in the future, he would find someone who could understand him better and would have more persistence in uncovering the shadows and wrinkles he strove every day to disguise and get rid of. Someone who could convince him that this ugliness is natural and not a terrible punishment. A person who Vil would listen to. 

        That someone wasn’t you. Even as a friend, your words grew on him in a sufficiently deep and, at the same time, superficial way. Beautiful roses in the first days, dried and yellowed petals at the weekend — flowers that needed to be changed in the vase every week. 

        It wasn’t what Vil or you needed. You weren’t meant to be the Hercules of his story. Your fate was connected with someone else’s.

        “I won’t delude myself and think that I know everything about you. Or that you won’t have parts of yourself that you obviously won't want to show me. But...,” Idia’s figure, with his huge golden eyes, staring at you seemed to blur suddenly. “...I’m so glad to be with you. Every day, every night. Grim sometimes needs to come here to take me off, because otherwise I won't go back to Ramshackle. But it’s not because I want to avoid memories anymore!”

        There were tears that flowed down from your eyes, just like light rain in a field of daffodils. You stood up on top of the bed, arms outstretched gesticulating energetically to everything around you two. 

        “I love this place! This dorm, this room, these sweaty sheets, bright screens at midnight, opening a Goblin can with you and toast for one more victory, smell of snacks each week. I want to convince Grim to be here too because everything about this place is wonderful. Can’t you see? We are like the gods of this cosmos...!”

        Idia held your hand suddenly and you interrupted your stately monologue to look at him --- and also take a moment to wipe some tears from your face. Idia had his eyes fixed on you, the ends of his hair crackling the same hot pink as before. 

        Your words touched him deeply, making it seem for a moment that you were talking about Elysium and not Inferno. It didn't have to have such impressive glory. He was entirely satisfied with his humble piece of Underworld. Still, you filled that morbid, dark place with flowers and fruits, finding fertility in even the dustiest graves.

        Why were you like that? Why did it make his insides crawl with shame and embarrassment at the same intensity that his heart was pounding fast? Completely unfair! 

        “Damn it, you look like an anime protagonist talking. It gets on my nerves,” Idia lowered his head so you wouldn’t see his pale face heat with color. “Ah... I love you too much to bully you about these things…”

        If you were drinking something, you would have choked. Or spilled it. It would be more mess than what was already.

        “Idia?,” you knelt there, trying to make him face you again. “Do you love me?”

        “I-I’m not saying it again.”

        “Idia, with a thousand hydra heads, put something in your stove of a head!”

        In what he wanted to run away from his bed, you held his face and stood close enough that your noses crushed together.

        “I love you. Not out of pity, not out of simple curiosity. I want to know more about you just so I can love you more. The good, the bad, the neutral parts. Everything.”

        What was that sound in your head? Your heart? Epic music?

        “You’ll be that precious game that I will play infinitely because it’s my favorite and never fails to bring me a smile on my face!”

        “Please stop talking like that. You drive me crazy,” Idia also held your face, a little harder this time, and pulled you a little away from him.

        Idia’s hands were cold as mausoleum stones. His long, pale fingers gripping the entire outline of your face. Despite the cold hands, his face was warm. 

        Your words were like gasoline to him. He was only stopping you from going on because one more intense speech about how much you loved him — unbelievable, you really hit rock bottom, huh? — would have him have a heart attack right there.

        Idia would die of embarrassment in your arms. And, for Hades’s curved chin, you would have the audacity to mourn his death with more shameful oaths of love.

        Idia was determined to be strong. For about five minutes, at least. With you there, it was as if he could hold the whole universe in his hands. It was such a scary realization, but also amazing.

        “Briger of death. Ramshackle muse. Spring deity...,” he tried to list titles for you, beautiful words that could express what he felt. But he needed a serious backup for this. “Ugh, I wasn’t made for these types of dialogue! To be honest, you make me look so normal!”

        “Thanks.”

        “Consider that I am the basis of comparison. This is not a compliment.” 

        “It is. For me, it is.”

        You gave a big smile that almost broke Idia. You really had no compassion. At the end of the day, maybe you weren’t a perfect deity. You were just a weirdo like Idia, probably more. But he liked it — without realizing it, he smiled too. 

        In your romantic playlist, Idia had found a song to call his favorite. It had no lyrics, just a melody. “Snow that melts into spring”. It was how he felt with you right there in front of him. You two could really be who you were together. Both gods and mere mortals. 

        Idia wasn’t the Protagonist’s Friend. He was just Idia Shroud. In its pathos, in its awesomeness, in its card SSR level and in its simplicity of R card. And you loved him all despite this. 

        “You’re so weird...,” Idia brought your faces closer to each other again and like a key stuck on the keyboard, he continued. “...and I love this in you.”

        Winter might be over but you felt vividly what a kiss of snow was. Frosty, gently melting into warm lips of spring petals. Love can be so lively.

| Special notes: Euterpe is the name of the Muse of Music. "Ram" is the acronym for "random-access memory" (is a form of computer memory) + Ramshackle. I forgot to explain this when I posted in case someone didn't understood the whole thing behind Reader's magify username... yes, magify, I made it |