#i did base this on the oracle of delphi

[quinn-fucks-shit-up]

modern day oracle where you have to sign 50 million forms saying you will not do anything to either ensure or prevent the events of the prophecy from happening

[fleurspun]

Questbound

Summary: A kiss locks the victory of your quest, it's only unfortunate that your quest companion is Luke Castellan—the bane of your existence and ex-lover. Note: I'm back hello hi this time with PJO! I do have Grishaverse drafts to release (someday) but that's for another time!! This is also cross-posted on Ao3 Word Count: 6.9k

In your many years at camp, the best advice you could probably give somebody is not to date another camper.

Not if they’re a fellow counselor.

Especially not if it’s Luke Castellan.

You learned that lesson the hard way years ago, when you were both a lot younger, with spunkier attitudes and clouded minds. It was a relationship wrenched raw with gritted teeth and hushed arguments, emotions clawing at throats and frustration gnawing at the mind. It was nothing short of tiring, and the only remark worth saying was that it wasn't worth it.

(Sort of. You’re a little too proud to admit that you had your fun during the relationship, and that you really did love Luke, or at least loved him to the extent that adolescent teens could. It was carefree and stupid and full of shared, sappy love-sick grins—and that wasn't so bad.

But you were both childish and angry, nonetheless. And that tipped the balance more often than you would have liked.)

Your breakup was a nasty, bitter fallout that screamed and thrashed all the way back down into the depths of forgotten pasts. After that, you and Luke fell into an explosive and rough dynamic of being at each other’s neck at every passing second, which seemed to have attracted attention from the gods above—and because the gods have such a unique sense of humour, one in particular has decided to grant you and Luke a quest.

And quests meant a trip to the attic of the Big House, and a meeting with the hippie-tie-dye Oracle of Delphi.

“Piss off the aunt lately?” Luke sucks at his teeth, ducking under the beams of the ceiling. You can feel his shadow melt into yours when the attic forcibly squeezes the two of you into the walkway cluttered wall-to-wall with quest paraphernalia.

“I didn't. You might have.” you scoff, suddenly a lot more conscious that your back was pressing into his chest, “You did break that poor girl’s heart from Aphrodite’s cabin a week ago. It’s sad, she was sobbing over her barbecue at dinner.”

“Keeping tabs on me, now?” he snickers, “That’s a new low, even for you.”

“I’m going to smack the shit out of you if you don't shut up, Castellan.”

You see Luke at the corner of your eye step ahead of you, giving a theatrical display of zipping his lips shut before snapping into a sleazy grin when you roll your eyes at him.

The Oracle of Delphi finally comes into sight at the edge of the attic, and Luke has to settle a hand across the base of your spine to keep you moving along when you freeze upon seeing the figure. Visiting the Oracle always left an uneasy feeling that settled like sediment at the bottom of your stomach, and Luke knows exactly, despite the low lights of the attic, that you would be picking at the skin beneath your nail.

He taps his finger on your spine to grab your attention, teasing spelled on his face, “Scared, smart girl?”

You swallow thickly before breaking away from his hand, “In your dreams, crook.”

Luke offers you a small chuckle as he anchors his palms on the beams near your head to keep you from bumping into them when you stalk along the attic, wary of the menacing figure right in front of you.

The skeleton is perched near the stained glass window, and silence simmers in the air so thick it almost shrouds your heartbeat in a muffled vacuum. After a few heavy seconds, the Oracle of Delphi slowly creaks into animation. There’s this odd pull of energy surrounding the flimsy skeleton, perfuming a spine-chilling and nerve-wracking pulse into the air, and into whatever summer clothing she had draped over her bones.

“Oracle of Delphi, we’ve come to seek your guidance.” Luke utters, and you cross your arms behind him, observing the decrepit and stop-motion-like movement of the figure. The skeleton encapsulates the feel of the Oracle in a snap of a finger, her arms creaking into animation and her skull snapping to your direction.

There are no eyes in the vessel as of the Oracle, but you can't mistake the sharp stare she gives you as she utters out the prophecy guided by the goddess of love, Aphrodite. And when she does, you feel a burdening weight forming on your shoulders and a thousand prickling needles at your spine. 

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. 

Because to find a “second wind” and bring life and victory to your affairs, the quest from Aphrodite meant that you would have to share a kiss with the Hermes head counselor, your spiteful ex-lover, and the absolute bane of your existence, Luke Castellan.

What a funny joke this was.

—

“Well?” you’re cross-legged atop the ping-pong table, staring accusingly at Luke.

Luke rolls his eyes at you, sharpening his dagger against the wall of the dimly-lit Rec Room, “Well, what?”

The two of you ended up in the counselors’ meeting room just below the attic of the Big House after the prophecy sinked in enough for you and Luke to move down somewhere to confer.

“We’re contesting this with Chiron, aren't we?”

You observe Luke from the table, watching intently as he sighs in frustration, returning the dagger to its leather holster, giving you his full attention now.

“We aren't and we won’t.” he asserts, “And get off the ping-pong table, you’ll break it.”

There’s considerable pressure to his words, but you were never one to back down from his intimidation, so you stand your ground, “I’m going to contest this, Castellan. Whether you like it or not.”

“Under what possible circumstance?” He reasons with slight exasperation, “You know they won't let you contest a prophecy—from Aphrodite—off all gods.”

“It’s a clear case of conflict of interest.” the table creaks, and you heed Luke’s advice to hop off.

“That conflict of interest is a deliberate choice from the goddess. Besides, it’s a kiss. One kiss.” he sighs—you’ve been conferring about the prophecy for a while now, and every second is one wasted on argument instead of preparation, “Do I affect you so much that having me kissing you is such a huge deal? What, afraid you’ll come crawling back for more?”

You squint your eyes at the insinuation.

“The kiss isn’t a big deal for me. I don't care about that, you, and whatever relationship we had in the past.” your voice loses its venomous edge when you see Luke watching you intently through lidded eyes. His gaze is a pressuring expression, as if prompting you to speak more, and your mouth slips beyond grasp when you scoff, “You could kiss me right now and I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Oh shit.

The realization of your statement sinks in the second it leaves your lips. A gasp is stuck in your mouth, and you keenly watch Luke for a reaction.

Luke doesn't shoot his usual retort, taking his sweet time before getting off the wall with a grunt. He walks toward you with a heavy gait, one that echoes in the room as if in mockery of your position.

He finds himself almost between your legs, standing a breath’s width away. Luke chases your gaze when you snap your head the other way.

“Huh,” he smiles, and you feel the sinister intent behind it in your stomach, “Do you wanna repeat that for me?”

There’s a stern look on your face, refusing to budge out of self-preservation and dignity, and he tuts in response, “Look at you. You never change, do you? Pouring out emotion but never committing to it. You’re still all bark and no bite—” he whispers with a rough edge, “Like you’ve always been.”

Luke’s words are an obvious, honest-to-gods ploy. It’s nothing more than plain bait, and he’s waving it in your face to see if he can get you off your high horse and into the ground where he wanted you, and he knows if he pushes this narrative a little further, he can get you to bite down.

You blink, and feel the irritation bubbling, choked into the back of your throat. He didn't have the right to tell you about emotions when he was the one that left after the slightest bit of actual reciprocation.

A second passes and you try to give him a chance to take it back, but he only gives you a cocked eyebrow and a look as if impatiently waiting for your verdict.

He persists, and you huff before staring at him straight in the eye with a burning defiance. 

Luke thinks, oh, 

He’s fucking got you.

A sharp finger jabs itself into his chest, and Luke finds it exhilarating to have you on your toes, “I said,” the tone of your voice is as tense as a rope pulled taut, “You could kiss me right now, and I wouldn't do so much as bat an eye.”

Your pride is deadly as it is precarious—this is affirmed when Luke plants his palm on either side of your figure on the table, stepping an inch closer to where he has to crane his neck down to keep you in his sight in response to your dispute.

Luke leans his head forward, the mocking grin etched right in his mouth, “You’re sure?”

You aren't, but you’ve gone so far now that retracting your sentiments is equivalent to admitting complete defeat.

And defeat to Luke Castellan was a defeat you could never stomach. 

So you persist.

“Try me.” you lift your chin as if to push him further to do what he’s been threatening to. You decide there was a large chance of Luke bluffing, so you prompt, “You don't have the balls to do it, Castellan.”

The heartbeat in your ribs thrums and pounds at your bones, a clear display of your body knowing that you should run before anything untoward happens, but your burning pride keeps your feet planted on the ground.

Luke is the closest he’s ever been since you broke up, head slanted into place with his mouth just above yours. The position is familiar, and you hate that you feel it in the pit of your stomach; Luke was so terribly close. He studies your most miniscule of movements, eyes wandering and lingering on your jaw, your neck, and your lips.

The action is an arrogant, self-assured display of power, fueled by the slight, unwanted flush on your face ignited by the suffocating proximity and the sandalwood perfume on his neck—and when he tips closer, it hits you that maybe Luke wasn't bluffing at all.

So, you do the next best thing after realizing you backed yourself into a corner: you close your eyes and wait for Luke’s mouth on yours.

…

Except, it never comes.

You peek your eyes open with a slow wind, Luke has a smug satisfaction written all over his face. He slips his mouth just above your ear, breath hot and searing when he whispers, “Liar.”

You swallow your dignity into your stomach at the realization that he just humiliated you to your face, and you whisper back at him with a hardened gaze, “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead, you damn crook.”

“Do your best, sweets.” the endearment is an offensive spit in your face. Luke takes a step back before stretching his limbs with a faux yawn as he walks to the door, “Good luck with the contention. Let me know how it goes.”

—

Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

He knows you inside out, from your oddly niche allergies, to the callouses you have on your fingers because you used to compete in unauthorized, handwritten poetry competitions with the campers from Apollo, Demeter, and Aphrodite before Chiron shut it down.

(The poetry competitions somehow turned into betting games, which were also unsanctioned.)

He knows you’re just about the most brilliant strategist at camp, as proven by the quest paraphernalia displayed in the attic that you’ve managed to snag along the way, but you let the younger campers like Annabeth hone their skills and take center stage during camp games.

He knows you have marks on your neck that map out the shape of the Lyra constellation, traced from your neck down to the bottom of your collarbone, and he knows, by heart, how long it takes to kiss the stars, one by one, before you give out on your knees.

Most of all, Luke knows that when you despise somebody, you despise them with a burning hatred that singes and ignites everything around you with charring smoke and flame. 

And that’s what he exactly gets for being the ex from a relationship felled by a spiteful fallout: your loud hatred, concentrated resentment, and your sweet, sweet unbridled attention in the quest.

Frankly, Luke supposes having your attention is worth it, despite being rooted in bad faith and distrust in his actions.

“My feet are killing me.” you suck at your teeth, eyes glued to the thickets, “This route’s going to wear us down faster than Aphrodite could ever do.”

You’ve done nothing but go and complain about Luke’s decisions for the past couple of days, and it’s a deliberate call on your end—being annoying and insubordinate just enough to piss him off, but never too much as to jeopardize the quest and its goal.

To be fair, you were the daughter of a war goddess. Your words held weight, and not to mention considerable influence and accuracy on your calls on strategy and quest location planning.

It was just that you were using your mother’s gifts to piss the hell off Hermes’ kid.

It’s a lure dangled just above his face, just out of reach to push Luke to his very limit. You’re convinced it’s an art form in itself, the act of patience and persistence in getting somebody to break.

But you haven't had much luck, because as the world would have it, Luke knew what you were doing, and decided he wasn't going to give you the slightest bit of satisfaction by displaying irritation.

He’ll do just about anything to keep your eye on him.

“Are they, now?” Luke answers, a few steps away from you. He keeps walking, and when he doesn't hear your feet shuffling behind him, he turns around, “Sore?”

“Deadly.” you groan, rolling your ankles off the ground. In your defense, the trail ahead was rigorous, bumpy, and slippery from the recent rainfall. Not to mention the elevation gain throughout. You had more than enough of a right to complain, “We should’ve just cut through the highway instead of playing hiker.”

There was some truth to your assertion—it really would wear you down, but not so exaggeratedly.

Luke crosses his arms, a usual telltale hint of irritation, but none of it is present in his voice, “And be picked off the asphalt by a rogue Fury?”

“At least a Fury would take the pressure off my feet.” you grumble, and continue walking forward when you realize Luke just wasn't biting down. You look to the sky in an attempt to clear your head.

In your reflections, you fail to notice that Luke’s gone quiet with mischief, and you see your clear fault of letting your guard down when you get picked off the ground and hauled over his shoulder like cattle.

“Castellan—” you gasp, your vision in a whiplash, “What the hell! Put me down!”

Luke secures an arm over the back of your knees, the other one supporting your hip on his shoulder. He speaks to you with no hint of a struggle, “You wanted to put the pressure off your feet, right?”

“And the first solution that came to mind was to carry me on your shoulder?” you say in disbelief, propping yourself up with your arms on his back, “That's not how things work, you freak!”

“You’d rather I carry you in my arms?”

“I’d rather you put me down on the ground!”

“And let you hurt your small princess feet?” Luke coos in a voice so sickeningly sweet, it makes you feel as if nauseous from a sugar rush, “You know I’d never let you do that.”

“Gods, I hate you.” you grumble with a voice hinting resignation. You go limp on top of his shoulder when you realize there’s no point in arguing with him, “You’re the worst.”

“Get used to it.” Luke says, starting to walk the trail into the forest, “The worst hasn't even happened yet.”

“And that’s supposed to be what?”

He taps you thrice on the back of your knee, “I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

—

It’s hard to forget that you and Luke are exes by the way you two fall quickly into a routine when left alone. Despite the rough start to your quest that resulted in petty arguments, derailments, and relentless teasing, your disgruntlement with Luke has sort of fizzled out into something a little more tameable, something malleable under shared snickers and a few will-they-won’t-they situations.

It starts off in treks where he takes your pack without a second thought when your breathing lags a little more than usual because you weren't as physically inclined as you'd like, in moments where you catch him forking away at the raisins in your bread so you wouldn't recoil at the sight, and during slow days when the journey is oddly peaceful, and the two of you wordlessly take detours to see pretty trails that Luke gets a little too excited over.

It ends with Luke falling from a spiraling tree root sprawled on the soil, and with flowering wounds on his hands and face.

“You’re a mess.” 

You frown over the soft orange spires of the campfire, watching Luke with a pitiful red bruise birthed from his own actions. He’s fussing over his own wounds, and he tries, really, to the best of his abilities, but Luke hasn't attended a first aid class from Apollo’s cabin in years—and it’s showing in the way he tries to treat the bloody marks on his face.

“You’re pitiful.” You comment, looking down at his hunched figure over the sprawled kit. It doesn't help that it’s nighttime and he struggles more and more with adequate light without burning himself on the bonfire, “A disgrace. Pathetic.” 

“I’m hurt.” He says, going back to applying an ointment that comes out way too watery because he doesn't know you have to shake it, “I’m hurt and you’re being mean to me.”

You can hear the obvious dramatisation in his voice, evident in the way he draws out his vowels. He’s pitiful and pathetic—just like you said—but for some reason, you find yourself slumped on a log next to him, stealing the balm from his hands.

“Give it to me.” You grit through your teeth, like you’ve been forced to help him by some unknown force, “Best swordsman in 300 years, and he cannot apply healing ointment on himself.”

It’s a comment made under your breath, and when you shake the tube and apply the cream on his arm, you miss the small smile Luke gives you.

The air is so cold with the night air and ripe with tenderness, and the two of you don't miss its hint when you touch Luke’s chin to move his head to the side, applying ointment on the gash lining his cheekbone.

“I’m shocked you’re not even recoiling at this.” You mutter, lathering out a pea-sized amount on his face, “You must hate it so much.”

It’s rare that you strike up a conversation first, but it seems like the intimacy of the moment has gotten to you, so Luke entertains you, “At what?”

“This.” You sign to the two of you, “I’ve done this to you a lot before, but it embarrasses you every time, doesn't it?”

It always started with you having to fuss over him, and with Luke being pissed off—and ended with an fiery argument without fail. 

It was a stupid thing to argue about; but when you’ve just passed the honeymoon threshold of a young relationship, everything felt far too intense far too early.

Luke cannot find it in himself to answer immediately, a little embarrassed by the idea of his past actions, so you pacify the situation by talking, “I get it, you know.” You hum, “I was overbearing, and young, and overexcited.”

“And I was stupid, and angry, and cowardly.” Luke answers, an airy chuckle coming out of his lips, “I think we’re just fair. Actually, I might've been worse.” 

You shrug, keeping your concentration on the gash. Luke’s eyes are peeking at the side, taking a look at you through feathered eyelashes.

“Hey, smart girl?”

A hum of acknowledgment lets him know you’re listening despite the utter focus on his cheek.

“I really was stupid back then for a lot of things, wasn't I?”

You stop momentarily. It’s wordless knowledge, knowing what he’s referring to, but you aren't sure you want to mull it over right now. The moment is too dangerously intimate to dabble in something so sensitive, so you decide to respond by whispering out an “Mhm.” before continuing on.

Luke watches you and your concentrated look, your lips jutted out and your nose in a slight scrunch. He feels like he’ll physically melt at the feeling of your hands cradling his face.

You’re finished with fussing over his wounds, and in a state of effortless muscle memory from all the times you had to do this to him before, your grip on his chin unconsciously angles him to face you, and you move to give him a peck on the side of his lip. 

You’re so precariously near when you catch yourself and jolt into freezing. There’s only a breath’s width between you and him. It leaves you with Luke’s eyes gazing right into yours, eyes as wide as deer in headlights.

You can hear nothing but the crickets of the forest, the crackling of the firepit, and the ring of your slowly accelerating heartbeat. The time stills into a simmering tick.

Luke’s eyes flicker somewhere down in a split-second, and he squints at you, “Were you going to give me a kiss?”

You’re taken out of the trance, and in a flash of panic, quickly push Luke’s face away from yours, “You look horrible up close, Castellan.”

It’s an offhand comment, but Luke doesn't seem to mind when he scoffs out a comment of his own, “Oh please, we’ve made out a lot closer before.”

A red flush comes out of your face, shocked that he would bring up something so old, “And I hated every second of it every single time.”

You didn't—but his ego doesn't deserve to know that.

“If you hated it so much, you’re about to seethe at the next act of our quest,” Luke shrugs, stretching his arms into the ground behind him.

“And that's what, now?”

“Prophecy says you owe me a kiss, remember?”

—

Oh, shit. You forgot about the kiss.

Completely blinded by your deliberate attempts to usurp Luke’s decisions as primary of the quest, you seem to have forgotten the damning condition of your victory—to share a kiss with your past lover.

Simply put, Aphrodite was bored and decided it was time to pair together people who hated each other to death and make them kiss like dolls.

Was it to rekindle buried feelings? Maybe. Was it to drive the offsprings of gods into insanity? Oh, absolutely.

But whatever Aphrodite wanted to achieve by having you and Luke venture out into the world, it still doesn't do so much as change the thoughts plaguing your head for the last few days.

When was this kiss going to happen?

Since leaving the camp, and after that shred of intimacy that night, every passing moment became ripe with untouched tension, thick enough to cut through with a knife and a saw. You felt your heartbeat pound into your ear at the times when Luke would pull you close when he knew a creature was watching a little too intently, or when he would sit between your legs and let you fuss over his shoulder to have his minor wounds treated.

Normal occurrences at a quest, but with the prophecy looming over your head like an unrelenting shadow of misfortune, you were always distracted at the thought of: is this it?

Your agitation with the prophecy and your fear at the thought that Luke would smoothen you into kindness put you on edge, and soon enough your composure unraveled like loose threads and your formerly safe antics almost cost you and Luke your lives.

But it wasn't always you making the trip a hassle.

Your heavy, dragging breaths fill the tight brick alleyway just on the outskirts of the city you cut through to make a “harmless” shortcut Luke hounded you into taking, where you caught the attention of a rogue minotaur hungry for demigod dessert. Now, you have burnt soles and a creature hot on your tail.

It was a shortcut no different from the one you had insisted on taking, but Luke reason that the alternative trail was the same amount of time, with less elevation, and with more places to get food and water—but before you could leave, you realized why the town felt a lot more deserted than usual.

Luke pulled you inside the slim space by the arm, clutching you close into his body and angling you away from the mouth of the alleyway. He has one hand clamped over your mouth and the other on the base of your spine, pulling you so intensely near that you can smell his perfume and feel the ridges on his chest.

You hear the minotaur’s guttural growls and heavy gait echoing with a sharp thud, slowly and slowly until it disappears out of earshot. It’s only then that you feel the heartbeat pounding into your bones once the adrenaline runs out of your bloodstream.

You seem to realize the minotaur’s disappearance a lot faster than Luke does, with his hand remaining over your mouth and his body still pressed close to yours.

Oh, he was so incredibly close.

The flush on your face deepens at every single passing moment, your fingers picking at the skin beneath your nails, with your body becoming hypersensitive to every point that touches his, fueled by the force of the two brick walls squeezing the two of you together. His body feels warm from the constant running that led you to this moment, excreting bodily heat that seeps into yours the longer he holds you close. 

When Luke gazes down after ensuring that the minotaur was out of the immediate area, he finds you studying him with a wide set of eyes. He doesn't say anything, mostly because his ego is enjoying the show, watching you stare at his chest, and his arms, his neck, before ending up on his eyes.

You retain eye contact, and Luke cranes his head to your side to check on you. Luke liked getting in close for things he only wanted you to hear, so when he tipped his head down to ask if you were alright, you stalled—like deer in headlights—and panicked at the feeling of his face so close to yours. You break out of Luke’s hold when the panic seeps into your bones, and you stumble onto the open streets.

You crane your gaze to the left—and meet eyes with the minotaur.

—

The hotel off the highway is dingy and obviously seen better (and more graceful) days, with peeling wall paint, dusty carpets, and a receptionist with a mean streak who barely cares for the customers arriving. The ringer on the desk barely makes a sound over her nail file.

She files her nail with a vigorous back-and-forth, the scratching of the material screeching into your ear like nails on a chalkboard. The bright purple of her hair is mirrored by the bubblegum in her mouth, deflating in a scandalous pop when she decides to entertain you.

Well, not you exactly, but the view of the tall, handsome man standing just behind you. Who was, believe it or not, clutching his injured shoulder. 

(Minotaur’s fault; not yours, directly)

You can see the instant attraction in her eyes when it lands on Luke’s figure, and you feel a dull sensation in your ribs.

“Well,” she smacks her lip, looking as if she wanted to undress Luke with her eyes, “Two separate rooms, I hope.”

“Excuse me?” you say, stopping halfway from digging into your bag for the money. 

“Two rooms, right?” the receptionist rolls her eyes at you, dragging her words along the floor. She fetches two keys on the counter but keeps them beneath her palm, batting her eyelashes at Luke, “Hey, you—pretty boy. I’m a pretty good masseuse, you know.”

You press your lips together, holding back the incredulous expression your face is dying to spit out. 

Two customers annoyed and frustrated at each other, looking for a room; one with a bad shoulder, and the other a sleeve catching on a doorknob away from crashing out into misery.

And the damn receptionist decides it's time to snag a quick hookup?

She continues her little show of seduction, leaning over the counter in her slightly-undone button down. There’s venom and honey dripping on her voice, and a bony finger catches itself on her lip, “I can heal that shoulder of yours real good if you let me come up to your floor.”

It’s unbelievable at this point, you decide. You could tolerate this a lot better if you were having a better day, but today was not that, at all.

Your anger, burning hot and bright, slowly becomes slightly clouded by a churning feeling at the bottom of your stomach when you realize you haven't heard Luke answer—nor did you know how he was reacting to the woman at all.

Was he enjoying the attention? Was he considering blowing off steam with her? Did he like it?

Why do you care?

You don't. That’s what you put your resolve on—and there are more serious things to think about, like how you’re on the verge of failure in your quest. He could fool around with anyone, and that wouldn't be your business. It shouldn't be your business.

Whatever turns him productive enough to lead you to completion of Aphrodite’s favor.

Your thoughts are on the verge of collapse, but as if by some wicked timing, the receptionist shakes you out of your trance and pushes you into irritability tenfold when she slips over to you one key.

“Here’s ‘ya room. Leave your boy to me, hm?”

You feel like a kettle, slowly boiling until it’s time to explode and spill over scalding hot insults and lectures about the lack of decency being given. You’re about to start when you feel a chin nuzzled into your shoulder and a hand at your waist.

Luke whispers in your ear, “She’s not worth it.”, staring at the receptionist dead in the eye before exchanging the one key for money.

“Just one room. We’ll be fine, alone.”

The elevator ride is dragging, and you’re standing on opposite sides as if Luke wasn't just clinging on you from the last minute as a response to the flirty receptionist. He looks at the floor with a restrained expression, and you have a flat frown on your mouth. It takes what feels like decades before the carriage reaches your floor.

The doors open into a narrow hall, dimly lit with matching dull carpets from the lobby. Your room isn't in any better shape than the rest of the building. It might be worse when the door shuts and another misunderstanding erupts.

“What happened back there?” Luke asks, his voice pulled taut by tension, but held back by the need to not escalate the situation, “Why did you freak out on me?”

Luke knows you’re keeping something secret, you’ve had a shift in behaviour that he doesn't exactly recognize, but feels familiar all the same.

You keep his gaze leveled to yours, “I’m not the one at fault here, Castellan. We wouldn't have been there if we took the original route.”

“Fine,” he groans, “It was my fault we ended up in that stupid alley in the city outskirts. I didn't factor in why the map wouldn't mark it as a route in the first place. But that’s not what I’m asking, isn't it?”

“What are you asking then?”

“Why’d you freak out on me in that alley?”

“And that’s such a big deal?”

“It’s a big deal because that meltdown of yours cost us an injury, supplies, and now transport money that we have to use on this hotel.” he stalks closer, tone suspiciously clear of malice, “You’re smart. You know we don't have enough time or resources for the quest, no?”

“I know that.” you snarl. You don't even know when you stood up, “Shit happens, Castellan. I can't control when and where I panic.”

“But you can.” he shrugs. You have no idea when he got so close, “I may not know what happened, but I do know you—you’re calm, collected; you hate being driven by emotion and you are Athena’s favourite child for a reason.”

You look away to the side, refusing to make eye contact, “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying,” Luke drawls, as if the answer is staring at you, “Either your skills have downgraded for absolutely no reason at all, and you’ve become a shame of a daughter of a war goddess—or, something else has shook you to your core entirely. Something, or someone. That’s my guess.”

It was true—you were shaken by the prophecy and let the panic from it settle far too deep into your bones, but you were a lot more pissed by the way Luke was speaking to you. As if he knew you from the inside out, and to hell with him thinking that way.

He didn't have the right.

“You wanna know the reason, crook?” Your finger jabs into his shoulder, and you have to look up to his towering height to meet his gaze and get your point across. You were at such a close proximity now, it's as if you could taste the smugness in his voice.

He rolls his eyes, and shrugs mockingly, “Well, don't keep me waiting.”

You let out a good exhale before you postulate.

“The prophecy got under my skin.” Luke senses the tinge of nervousness in your voice, the end of your sentence faltering into a low mutter, “As much as I want to be the perfect quest companion you need so bad, the prophecy that we would have to eventually kiss crawled into my head and won't leave my consciousness since.” your voice tries to remain steadfast, “Every time you’re near, I think about the kiss, and I panic because I wouldn't know what to do with myself and I wouldn't know what to do with you. Happy now?”

You pull out a sharp exhale, “You make me nervous, Castellan. You still make me nervous.”

Luke stares at you like gears are turning in his head, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips. The realization of what you just said hits you in the ribs, and you feel as if the oxygen in the room is too little to keep you alive and breathing. You swallow your pride and your embarrassment, wide-eyed and on your toes.

You almost move to ask Luke to say something, anything really, but he cuts you off wordlessly when his hand weaves its way into your hair and his mouth finds its slot against yours.

Time grinds into a halt, and you realize that in all the times you imagined the prophesized kiss in shameful fever dreams and trances, you never expected for it to be this: Luke kisses you like he’s been starving for months. He’s deprived and angry and desperate and moves as if there wasn't anything else he’d rather be doing than to dishevel you in the middle of the room and leave your knees weak and trembling like he used to.

Oh, gods. The kiss is like water,  like a delirious thirst in your bones finally quenched and an itch you’ve been dying to scratch. You’re stunned at first, but find yourself kissing him back just as quick and just as desperate.

“I waited far too long for this.” he rasps into your mouth, tongue swiping on your bottom lip to open your mouth, “Couldn't get my mind off you even when we broke up.”

“Shut up, Castellan, for once.” you breathe out, and Luke can’t help to restrain himself when he smiles against your lips. 

“I tried everything to get close again.” He says in between kisses, “Who knew we only needed a damn quest?”

The two of you are sprawled on the creaking twin-bed mattress, and Luke, despite his bad shoulder, hauls you into his lap with a burning intention to keep you there. His lips trace from pecking at your lips, to nibbling at the skin behind your ear, to tracing down searing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the bottom of your jaw.

“Castellan, I—” you gasp, melting between his mouth and the hand that’s running lines over your hips.

“That’s not my name.” he mutters between kisses, turning you over with your back to the mattress, “Say my name, smart girl.”

If you were in any sort of proper thought, you’d be flushed red and annoyed at Luke for speaking to you this way—but all rationality is thrown through the window when his lips are on your neck.

You swallow your pride, your dignity, and everything in between, “Luke.” it’s a whimper when it comes out, and he pulls you in impossibly closer.

He hums in satisfaction, dropping his head over one of the moles on your neck. Luke gives it a small lick before smoothing it over with a kiss, “Vega.”

To your collarbone, “Sheliak.”

Down to the mole just above your chest, “Sulafat.”

He’s naming the stars in the Lyra constellation, and your mouth lets out a choked moan, “Luke, shit—”

Luke pulls away after one more quick peck, and he doesn't waste time admiring your figure from head to toe. You’re resting against the white pillows, breathing heavily with a disheveled look when he asks, “You good?”

The moment finally sinks into your mind in a panicked, cascading waterfall of information—that you’ve just shamelessly made out with your ex after a frustrating run, and that you were basically pinned against him on a bed.

It’s a wash of fresh, hot shame. Before you can help it, words spill out your mouth in an attempt to save face.

“That,” you blink, still a little hazy from having Luke’s mouth on yours.

“Go on,” He says, patiently, “Take your time.”

“Well, that’s—uhm” you inhale, “—don’t take that personally, Castellan.” you rasp out, trying to hide the weakness in your voice, “That was just for the quest.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you nod cautiously, “We’ve got the prophecy out the way now, haven't we?”

You doubt you were convincing him any more than you were convincing yourself when Luke gives you a sickeningly sweet grin. He’s still pinned over you, like he refuses to be anywhere else.

“Mhm,” he coos, “Sure it was.”

“That didn't mean anything to me.” you repeat, to yourself more than anyone, “And that didn't mean anything to you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Luke shrugs, now falling into the pillows next to you. He closes his eyes, sinking into the bed, “That meant the world to me.

There’s a mixture of confidence and lack of hesitation in his voice, and when you prop yourself on your elbows to look at him, he was disheveled with smeared lip gloss all over his mouth, and he looked the happiest he’s been in days.

“Hear that?” he goads with a lilt that sounds suspiciously like bait, like he’s prompting you to retaliate, “I said the kiss meant the world to me.”

You find it unimaginable to believe him, but when Luke gathers your hands in his and places them against his lips with a soft exhale, you feel your stern resolve melting at every passing second.

“You don't mean that.” Your voice sounds even weaker now, like you’re hanging on by a thread.

“I do. I mean every single word.” Luke kisses your knuckles, softly whispering, “I can prove it to you, if you’ll let me.”

It’s scary.

It’s a scary realization to know what Luke’s asking for, and an even scarier realization was the fact that you were willing to give him another shot.

A second wind. Like what the prophecy asked for.

“You’re lucky I tolerate you, you crook.”

In your many years at camp, still, the best advice you could probably give somebody is not to date another camper.

But when you’re tasked to go on a journey with them promising a kiss at the end, maybe it wouldn't hurt to give it a chance.

Especially if it’s somebody like Luke Castellan.

“The luckiest alive, smart girl.”

—

“That’s my victory, then, forehead-spawn.”

A sultry voice echoes in Olympus. Aphrodite leisurely fans her face with a smug look, satisfied by the outcome of the prophecy.

Athena gives her nothing but a disgruntled expression.

[ledesaid]

Midnight and a Prophecy

║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║║

When the ghost of the Oracle of Delphi gave him a prophecy about him escorting his wife... who would come from the future... and that he should protect her from her pursuers for three days, he did not understand what that might entail.

The only thing that mattered was that someone very important to him would soon come to see him, and he needed help.

There was nothing more to ask.

Days later, something sparkled in the eyes of the Champion of Earth. You won’t believe it, but he had found something marvelous after the latest cyber attack on the Justice League’s database.

Marvel: The emergency hangar wasn’t declared by the Justice League atop a rocky outcrop on a coastal cliff in California… Coordinates… Smoke-gray color…

In the middle of that attack, at the very last moment, right before his eyes, the information was being erased and fading away, devoured by a lethal computer virus…

The villain lose. Cyborg is fine, but much of the data was lost forever, and inadvertently, The Captain Marvel discovered that the information from that base no longer exists.

So he paid a brief visit to his possible new operations base.

Charming.

No, really, not sarcastically. It truly is.

It has water, electricity, supplies, and plenty of furniture. It’s not exactly a bombproof bunker, but it’s perfect... his very own twenty square meters of happiness.

Speaking of happiness…

Soon, the eclipse that would bring his guest would occur.

Time is so silent when tries to escape in a hurry.

A second prophecy from the ghost compels him to carry with him a fire sword. She will arrive, pursued by those who seek to hurt her.

And once again, the silence is stifled by the passage of time.

The fact that the captain appeared on national television kicking a creepy creature in the midst of the Nevada desert didn’t generate as much surprise as we expected. What truly shocked everyone was how the captain desperately tried to protect... a woman, who wore a cape embroidered with golden threads like that of the captain himself, a woman who hid her face as best as she could, a woman who concealed a protruding belly.

??

Everyone: ??

Not to mention that the entire League helped the captain in the incarned battle.

Marvel: Thank you for helping me, guys. I don’t know what I would have done if my wife had been injured.

Hal: Are you married?! You’re literally a clumsy college student, how is that possible?

Flash: Just like they teach it in high school, Hal.

Hal: Don’t help, Bardo. You know what I mean!

Superman: Anyone need medical attention?

Marvel: Fortunately not, but guys... I must ask for your help for the next three days. Something dangerous is pursuing her; I’m not exactly sure what it is, but the oracle says that on the fourth day everything will be alright.

Wonder Woman: We will help you, brothers. It will be an honor, and I hope that we can get to know her more calmly, if you allow us.

Marvel: I’m sorry… the oracle forbade me and others from seeing her face until the fourth day

Batman: A prophecy. Do you trust that oracle, Captain?

Marvel: It’s complicated, but she is part of my family and I will protect her with all my strength.

Flash: Are you blonde?

Marvel: Barry, don’t cheat!

Flash: I’m sorry, it was Hal’s fault.

You and I know that since that day, Billy liked blondes more.

[ahllohehn]

🔱 THE GODS HAVE CHOSEN THEIR HERO! 🔱

>> about au >> au tag >> discord

By the power vested upon me (lol), I am now announcing the official winner of the Hermits and The Olympians Fanfiction Contest :] !

Once again, to remind everyone, the winner was chosen through amount of kudos/votes/likes and can choose from either prizes; a comic based on their submitted work or requested rendered art.

All submissions have been acknowledged to be amayzin' so I encourage everyone to read everyone's works nonetheless if they won or not :)

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FIRST PLACE 👑 OFFICIAL WINNER (42 kudos)

I will protect you (at least I'll try) by @star-cluster-nyx & @tallassredwood

Officially congratulations to our winners for the contest! Your fanfic has genuinely been a heartwarming experience. Grian and Pearl had nothing but each other, but sibling relationships aren't always that pretty. You showed that relationship dynamic really well in a very fun style and pacing.

Do tell me which one will be your point person so I could discuss about your prize :p ! ───────── ⋆⋅ 🔱 ⋅⋆ ─────────

SECOND PLACE 👑 RUNNER UP (32 kudos)

like roots, burrowing by @unreliable-bean

Our first submission and one of the works that won over our Mumscarian hearts </3 (after wrangling it around with angst for a few scenes /j). A mix of Minecraft mechanics and PJO mechanics is always fun! You fused them really well with such a nice pacing. The use of Scar's abnormal origins was a good touch to provide solutions to the conflict. Exciting writing as always :D

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THIRD PLACE 👑 RUNNER UP (17 kudos)

I’ll always be there (sparkling and shining) by Munchkin1156

Always a joy to see Grian-centric fics, thank you for submitting this! With the addition of the watchers to an unseemingly normal PJO AU, you've written the journey of Grian under their influence really well! A shame that the image still won't load on the link, but I would also like to say that your friend's art was amayzin'! An amazing drawing paired with an amazing work :]

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ALL MY (as well as the secret judges') FAVORITES :>

The Saint of Apollo by Nerdking14 Thank you for participating, genuinely. I know you've been writing about this even since before the fanfiction contest was announced and I truly commend you for putting your time, effort, and wonderful writing for our darling Empires campers. The way you adapted the previous small drabbles and headcanons to your story was exciting and I was happy those were done justice. You did justice to Camp Empires and I'm sure the gods would commend you for that too.

Oracle of Delphi by ethotek Mod [Hyunjin Yoon] expressed personal favorite to our dearest oracle. Extremely in love with how you adapted Gem's little complicated background into your writing. Lovely work that captured Gem's confusion and inner doubts really well :) This would've been a joy to delve deeper into through a comic, but let's return to it another time!

You were able to settle Gem into her home! But is she truly there?

It had always been just a game by Linny Heartwrenching, but captures well the realistic losses demigods would inevitably go through in a mythological world as teenagers. Gruesome, but filled with love for your ships' dynamics. Very good work :]

Again, thank you everyone who participated and even supported/read everyone's works. Although it pains me that I cannot give anything to everyone to show my gratitude, I simply wish you continue to enjoy your time here even if I cannot be much!

From the depths of the Underworld, to the vastness of the Seas, to the freedom of the Skies── Thank you very much for checking out Hermits and The Olympians! GGs to all participants!

[thepagansun]

Respect Neo-Pagans and Our Gods!

Although they probably will never see it (or care), this post is meant for Hollywood, Netflix, Marvel and all other industries and streaming platforms that are hosting shows based on but twisting pagan or polytheist "mythology" or ancient religions such as Gods of Egypt, Immortals, Clash of the Titans, Thor: Love and Thunder, DT17, Supernatural, Kaos, Twilight of the Gods, Blood of Zeus, Percy Jackson, Xena: Warrior Princess, The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, Record of Ragnarok, American Gods, Lore Olympus, and God of War games, etc.

The trend of creating content that demonizes, humiliates, or insults our Gods is upsetting and unfair. Creative and artistic license is one thing, but it's a double-standard for content about the monotheistic god or religions to be treated with respect even when under academic criticism while are ours are depicted as one-dimensional, villainized and humiliated. We are asking for that same respect.

Yes, content about any kind of "mythology" is fun, but the modern world needs to please remember that these were and still are RELIGIONS to many people around the world, myself included.

People worshipped these Gods, listened to their stories around the fire, married under their vows, raised their children, went to war, and but also built magnificent structures, wrote literature, prayed in their temples, and many more!

In fact, we still have vestiges of their worship! The names of the months and days of the week in the Western world come from Roman or Norse/Germanic Gods, the Olympic Games were originally dedicated to Zeus, the Hippocratic Oath was originally a prayer offered to Apollo, people from all over the ancient world visited the shrine and oracle at Apollo's Delphi, and many more examples.

And while yes, sometimes people were sacrificed to some pagan Gods (not so much the Greeks or Romans), but are we really going to pretend that many more people haven't died in the name of Christianity or Islam??

Lord Zeus wasn't just some womanizer, he was also King of the Gods, Father of Gods and Humans, the God of Hospitality, Oaths, Lightning, Law, Order, Authority, Monarchy, etc.

This was also Lord Zeus of the ancient Greeks:

This was also Lord Odin of the ancient Norse:

This was also Lady Hera of the ancient Greeks:

This was also Lord Ra of the ancient Egyptians:

This was also Lord Huracan of the ancient Maya:

Even if you personally don't worship these Gods, at least respect the fact that your ancestors did. Imagine if 100-200 years from now your descendants start making movies and shows that demonize or humiliate Yahweh, Jesus, Allah and Mohammed, etc.!

In fact, neo-paganism is the fastest growing religion in the United States: https://commonwealthpolicycenter.org/paganism-is-americas-fastest-growing-religion/#:~:text=Paganism%20is%20one%20of%20the,a%20broader%20form%20of%20paganism.

Members of Ásatrù, heathen religion of Iceland, honoring the Norse Gods:

Members of Hellenism, honoring the ancient Greek Gods:

Members of my religion, Nova Roma, honoring the ancient Roman Gods:

Traditional African religion:

Traditional Maya religion:

Members of Wicca at Stonehenge, the biggest Neo-Pagan religion in the world with 3-5 million practioners worldwide!

Our Gods are our RELIGION, not just your "mythology!" And both They and we, their followers, deserve the same respect you expect for your religions.

And they at least would never condemn you to an eternal fiery pit simply for not believing in them, unlike some other god I could mention.

They are here. We are here. They exist. We exist. And we are not going anywhere.

[prettyinpwn]

Hello, hello!

I just wanna know more of your headcanons about Jheselbraum, I really like her (even she doesn't appear so much)

And, more specifically, what relationship do you think she have with the Axolotl? Personally, I think she have a totally devotation for Axolotl and will do everything for him.

Yay, I'd love to share my Jheselbraum headcanons! Thank you for asking. :D I'll split them into "likely, based on other factors/evidence" and "fanfic level headcanons without evidence". I'll put them under a cut since I've got a lot.

Evidence based/likely headcanons:

We know for sure she is a former Henchmaniac and knew Bill personally, and The Book of Bill's scratched out text by her entry seems like it might imply she helped discover/pass along the the portal technology to Bill (that he then used to try to manipulate humans into building). I'm not 100% sure she invented it, but she's definitely a smart cookie for being able to understand it, at the very least. Plus, you know, knowing how to do cranial surgery on Ford to implant the metal plate probably takes a lot of skill and smarts, too. So I feel like she is very scientific minded, intelligent, and analytical due to these factors. She's like an alien Ford, perhaps why they got along so well when they met; Ford - being at his IQ level - might have felt like he'd finally found someone he could relate to, as genius level people tend to feel alienated. Especially if he found out she was behind the portal tech; his respect level for her would go waaaaay up. Like most people would go blank faced at Ford's jokes (like that one in The Book of Bill he tries to say to the waitress and she's just weirded out), but Jheselbraum gets him. Also, you know, extra eyes, extra fingers, isolated, both have a negative history with Bill... they might have a lot in common. Which is why I feel like JheselFord is an underrated very positive ship, but oh well.

She had a major falling out with Bill and will do anything to mess with his plans and help anyone who he tries to deceive, hence her title "unswerving". I think their falling out was likely over the portal design, where she wanted it used for good, whereas Bill was like, "Hey, let's destroy a dimension with this.", and Jheselbraum realized then she'd been used, just like Bill used everyone else he's ever known. So she tried to escape him and he probably pulled the same tactics on her he pulled on Ford. I feel like that's why she wanted to help Ford those thirty years he was gone, and why she helps the other Henchmaniacs escape Bill after the events of the show (and they end up in, go figure, reality).

So because Jhes knows that reality exists - as that's where she sent the Henchmaniacs - I feel like she has a very, very vast knowledge on the Multiverse and how it works. I think this is a combination of her intelligence plus her connection to the Axolotl.

I'm pretty sure though that she's religiously devoted to the Axolotl, too, given the way she has his depiction all over her mountain shrine/temple that Ford visits in Dimension 52 (also, Ford literally calls it a shrine, which implies a holy place). So she's sort of like a mix between a scientist and a monk/oracle of sorts. There are a lot of Greek allusions in Ford's story (comparing himself to Icarus, calling Bill his "muse" like how Homer calls upon muses in The Odyssey to inspire him to write, Odysseus himself was lost away from home for twenty years sort of like Ford's thirty years, etc), and so I almost think she functions like the Oracle of Delphi did, but instead of Apollo, she's an Oracle for the Axolotl. She speaks of the future and speaks for the Axolotl to mortals, and the Axolotl is described as the "opposite of Bill", so that means just another reason to oppose Bill if her god does.

Because the god she serves is the "opposite of Bill", well... to figure out what that means, let's establish what Bill represents: chaos, holding onto the past, nightmares, fire, lightning, disorder, etc. So the Axolotl I'd think represents order and balance, water (also because amphibian yanno), dreams, light, etc, those kinds of things. I also would argue healing, given that Jheselbraum knows how to heal Ford and perform surgery, and axolotls are well-known for their regenerative properties. Jhes' depiction in Journal 3 shows lots of bubbles behind her, so I picture a lot of water elements in her shrine's design. Like a dreamy, watery, light influenced place with Axolotl banners everywhere.

As for her personality based on all of the above, definitely intelligent, quiet, serious, but warm hearted and caring. She's like a nurse mixed with a scientist mixed with a monk.

Okay, now for my fanfic level headcanons with little to no evidence:

The fact that Ford ran into people that said 'praise the Axolotl' out in the Multiverse, that the Axolotl has an oracle like Jheselbraum who lives in a shrine, and his general power level, yeah... the Axolotl is like the Gravity Falls version of a god. So I'd like to think there's probably a Multiverse-wide religion around the Axolotl as a being that represents balance and dreams and healing and light. I think the Multiverse can be a very dark and chaotic place, hence why beings might want to believe in a deity that helps keep chaos at bay. Tying this in with the themes of Gravity Falls, I don't think the setting lends itself so much to evil vs. good struggles, but more chaos vs. order, which is represented en masse by the Axolotl (order and balance) vs. entities like Bill (chaos).

Oh boy, we're gettin' real fanfiction-ey here, but goddammit, I want there to be a whole order of servants to the Axolotl, and Jheselbraum being just one. How badass would that be? My headcanon is there are multiple servants. Some are just followers that create temples/shrines like clergyfolk across the Multiverse, and some are chosen actual servants, like a font for the Axolotl's power. I think Jheselbraum is a chosen servant, leading me to my next headcanon...

Bill tended to pick Henchmaniacs by their inability to fit in with their societies, and this is also why he targeted Ford, so extend that logic to Jheselbraum, well... she probably didn't fit in with her society. Either they tended to not like her scientific aptitude, or the opposite; overly scientific and didn't appreciate her ability to see the future. So she likely was an outcast. That means her race is either highly scientific or highly spiritual, and Jheselbraum (at least at her current age) represents what her culture couldn't achieve: a personality that balances the two. For some reason, I want to think she's the last of her race, but I'm not sure why. Maybe some sort of accident she didn't mean to cause, or maybe Bill orchestrated some chaos and it forced her to join him, and then later she realized he was part of the reason? I can just picture it now, her all pissed finding out he caused the destruction of her race, and Bill just shrugging and being like, "Those guys were backwards anyways, you didn't need them! I did you a favor, Jhes! I liberated you, just like I liberated myself from my own dimension." /cue holding a real bad grudge against Bill

I think Jheselbraum didn't find the Axolotl until after she left Bill, though. Maybe desperate to get away from him, she went to an Axolotl temple and he chose her as a servant there, much to her surprise. And since then, like you said, she's been utterly devoted to him for keeping her safe from Bill and giving her power to help others avoid him. And Bill won't touch her with a ten foot pole now, because Big Frilly doesn't like when you mess with his servants. Also, Bill's probably jealous she found a way to process her trauma and leave him behind; like family was Ford's cure for his trauma, faith was Jheselbraum's cure. Bill... hasn't found one, obviously. And it'd be a very, VERY cold day in hell before Bill bowed down to Big Frilly. That's probably another reason Bill hates the Axolotl: he "took" one of his Henchmaniacs and Bill is pissed that Jheselbraum is devoted to his enemy now.

I think she gets her visions of the future from dreams, due to the Axolotl's (at least, my headcanoned) connection to dreams. She's like an Edgar Cayce. Although there ain't no stinkin' way she doesn't also have a Tarot deck (or the Multiverse equivalent). Sure, I'm biased because I'm a huge Tarot nut, but I doubt she goes anywhere without a deck. And maybe she has an addiction to collecting them, totally not speaking from my own experience. I picture that while Ford was healing at her shrine, she often would mindlessly shuffle her decks, and the sound probably soothed him because his mother was a Tarot reader, so it reminded him of his childhood.

She drinks alien teas. Don't ask me why.

Apparently... she's green? For years we all headcanoned her as like... purple, blue, or white and pink like the Axolotl, but TBOB showed her as very earth-toned in her whole palette. Because of this, I tend to picture her species/culture as either mountain dwelling (hence why her shrine is on a mountaintop) or from a very verdant biome, like swamp, jungle, or forests in general.

I feel like she's very well-known throughout the Multiverse as like a folk hero or legend. Like not many people have found her or seen her or know her true name, but they do know of a famous Oracle of the Axolotl. I'm not saying she's like... a saint-level revered figure, but she's someone to try to find if you need help.

I feel like, as an extension of being a servant to a god of light and dreams, that also means a devotion to creativity, so I picture her as musical and artistic as well. Maybe playing an instrument from her home dimension (I picture a plucked instrument for some reason, going with the Greek/oracle theme let's just say it's a blend of a lyre and something else), as well as weaving tapestries (hence all the Axolotl banners in her shrine). This also extends to a focus on healing, hence how she helped Ford.

I think Ford would have struggled at first with her being an Oracle. He's Mr. Science, and his mother was a fortune teller, and although we never really hear his opinion on Caryn selling readings, Stan at least called her a "pathological liar". That, and when the fortune teller in Gravity Falls read his cards, Ford was adamant that they were a lie (yeah, because he was in that picture and didn't like it cough). So he has to wrestle with this person who understands him and his scientific brain and things like the portal, yet is something he - as a scientist - thinks is complete bunk. And then she just keeps knowing things she shouldn't and Ford just grumps and mutters as Jheselbraum is laughing away. She's like a puzzle he can't figure out. "How is she both so religious and scientific? How can she understand things like the portal if she believes in things so illogical, like Tarot readings and an amphibian god?" /Ford mad but also so damn curious he can't stop thinking about it.

As for what she looks like, I always liked this depiction of her form:

Credit to uberbee for the art. Horse-bug legs for the win.

So like this, but... teal-ish green with yellow eyes, and I think her robes probably are longer to the floor. I'm also not sure she has the frills like the Axolotl, given that my headcanon is that her species is terrestrial and not aquatic, but hey, maybe if there are a lot of swamps or bodies of water on her home world/dimension, they adapted to watery conditions?

So... yeah. Those are my gazillion headcanons about Jheselbraum (and the Axolotl, to an extent). Now I want to create a Jhes/Axolotl themed Tarot deck, man.

[luxury-nightmare]

I saw your pinned post and I would absolutely love to see your take on the Lonely! I have a vague concept based on a Leitner I had come up with that slowly stole away each of your five senses until you could not hear, see, or feel anyone around you and leaving you inexplicably alone. So imagining an Avatar doing that.

Thank you anon! So I definitely had some guidelines here between anon’s suggestion and my idea for a more violent Lonely avatar I had a pretty good grasp on xem from the start. I did want to give xem piercing just because I don’t often draw characters with piercings besides just the ears. I thing the last time I did was Gerry and that’s just cause a Gerry without piercings is like an Angel without wings to me

so, backstory. Xeir a lukas, cause why not (also side blog related reasons) but xey were always more, violent then xeir siblings, preferring to strike quickly and brutally as opposed to the creeping dread of the others. Xey are fully aware of how xeir power is underestimated, and use that to xeir advantage. Xeir preferred method of feeding, as suggested by anon, is sensory deprivation, a screaming, crying type of loneliness of knowing nobody is listening. Xeir definitely antagonistic to people, Xeir loneliness coming more from spite and fear of what is outside the fog. I have this one scene in my mind where xey put out Xeir cigarette on someone’s neck, and instead of a burn, it leaves behind a frostbite.

also xey have beef with Red, just cause I can.

Bonus! Extinction, Desolation, Web, Eye and End have names now! Extinction and Desolation were both suggested by my therapist, with Delphi Sinclair as Extinction (Oracle of Delphi and all that) and Luther Hain as Desolation! @alorekeeper gave me Charlie Porter for The Web, @imogen-eye gave me Karmen Lana-Anne for, well, The Eye, and @hypnopompic-decay gave me Fate Haven for The End! Names request are open for xem and eventually whoever’s next in the series, most likely be Stranger, requested by my sister (I would like to say whenever something is “requested” by someone in my life I basically just point at the fears and ask them to pick one)

pose reference by @mellon-soup

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[h50europe]

HELL HATH, NO FURY LIKE A FANDOM SCORNED (borrowed from the SPN fandom). I am not one who usually speaks up. But the things that are currently going down in the 911 fandom initiated from a particular corner of it with bashing actors and even harassing their family members on IG, as well as fellow fans, are disgusting. I had my share in other fandoms and got burned. I thought the 911 fandom was different. Little did I know.

The fandom has different levels of canonicity, from canon to fanon. The fandom is large enough to accommodate all of us. Can we please enjoy the present moment instead of playing the Oracle of Delphi? Speculations, discussions, and criticism (if constructive) are okay. But not going on a rampage based on hearsay, rumors, or a hunch.

The actors admit they are often unaware of what's coming next, as they receive their scripts on short notice. Longtime fans of the show know that anything is possible. Every fandom has its tin hats and conspiracy theorists, some of whom can be vocal and unpleasant.

However, the whole point of being in a fandom is to have fun. The playground is big enough for all of us, and plenty of talented, creative minds are contributing to the community.

Personally, I take the show as it comes. I'm used to not just having a favorite ship but an entire armada 😎 So I wouldn't go as far as declaring something "dead in the water" ( because I saw that concerning #Buddie) based solely on interviews. No offense here.

We should sit back and let the story unfold, treating it like a bottle of wine. You open it and then let it breathe. You don't immediately pour the liquid into the glass and drink it. Tim managed to surprise us by the end of the 100th episode. Who knows what else he has in store.

We are open to it. Of course, we sometimes disagree with the plot. But we don't throw a tantrum. There's already enough drama in this world. No need to add to it with "fandom wars" that go nowhere but hurt many people in the wake.

If you made it here, thanks for taking the time to read. You get an extra batch of brownie points...

[aliciavance4228]

How would you handle a retelling based off of rationalizations rather than making everything painfully ooc and wrong and just erasing the gods' existence like Shadow of Perseus? I'm curious now!

@sarafangirlart already made this post a while ago about how to "fix" this retelling and she comes up with some great ideas, so here's how I see it too:

Danaë's mother is very much alive and she loves her, she has a strong friendship with her cousins, is a Daddy's Girl and has a good relationship with her uncle Proteus. Acrisius of coursly wants a male heir to the throne and is in a constant dispute with his twin brother, so he consults the Oracle of Delphi in order to know if he'll ever have one. The Oracle tells him about the grandson that will kill him, so he locks his daughter away just like in the original myths. Shortly after this episode Proteus learns about the prophecy, so he commits an extreme act and infiltrates himself in his niece's chambers in order to leave her pregnant with a son that will eventually kill Acrisius (Yikes!). The only person who knows about this is her nursemaid, whose also acting like a second mother figure towards her and comforts her after the abuse.

Now, this part already makes the situation disturbing, but I consider this to be a more more relevant commentary on how men are capable to do whatever it takes to fulfill their egos, even if that means hurting the people they were close to and leaving them traumatized in the process in one of the most disgusting ways possible.

The next chapters are centered around Danaë's trauma, endurance and mental and health issues she went through while captive and pregnant, as well as her mother's suffering, who feels guilty for not going against her husband when he decided to lock their daughter. One of the strongest feelings Danaë goes through during her imprisonment is her desire to avenge herself, so she hides her pregnancy and then her son (whom she named "Destroyer") with the help of her nursemaid for three-four years, until Acrisius hears one day toddler sounds from that chamber and discovers Perseus. He orders for the nursemaid to be hanged, while Danaë would be thrown into a chest that will be cast into the sea so that he won't kill her directly. In this retelling we have Proteus begging his brother not to commit such a cruel act and spare Danaë, but I consider that such a scene would've been thousands of time more powerful if there would've been Danaë's mother in his place.

That chest is found on the shores of the Seriphos Island by Dictys, who rescues Danaë and Perseus and brings them home. Danaë responsibilizes Perseus from a young age and raises him in order to become a hard-working and humble man. She very much knows that he's the next king of Argos, so she involves herself very much in his education as well. As he grows up Perseus starts wondering who is his father, and Danaë considers that he has to know what happened and eventually tells him the truth. Perseus gets appalled by her story and wants to murder his father/uncle for what he did to his mother. His feelings towards his grandfather remain conflicting and ambiguous though.

In the meantime, Polydectes starts lusting over Danaë, but she rejects all of his advances and tries to avoid him as much as possible. Throughout the years he becomes more and more wrathful and violent, and once his brother dies he decides to marry her against her will wheter she wants it or not. And because in this retelling Perseus is not the son of Zeus he couldn't have done anything in order to opposse their marriage.

So he makes an extreme choice and leaves the island, deciding to become a pirate and commit numerous robberies and sieges in order to get enough wealth to free his mother, thus ending up being both the villain of this story AND a nuanced character with justified reasons behind his actions.

Next there is Medusa’s POV, which is ment to reflect the darkest side of Perseus and highlight how violent and cruel he became in the meantime in order to reach his goal (basically "The end justifies the means." type of mentality). Because of this I'll insert this entire fragment from Palaephatus' account here, because I would base this part of the book on it:

Palaephatus, On Unbelievable Things:

"About these a much sillier story is told, how Phorcys had three daughters, who had one eye they used in turns. the one using it put it in her head and thus could see. And in this way, with one of them giving the eye to the other, they all could see. Perseus came up behind them with a quiet tread and took their eye, and said he wouldn't give it back until they told him where the Gorgon was. So they say he cut off her head, came to Seriphos, showed it to Polydectes, and turned him to stone. And this is rather ridiculous, for a living man who sees the head of a corpse to be fossilized. For what power does a corpse have? Someone such happened instead. Phorcys was a Kernaean man. The Kernaeans are an Ethiopian race, and life on the island Kerne outside the Pillars of Heracles, and they till the part of Libya by the Anno river straight past Carthage, and there is a lot of gold. This Phorcys was king of the islands (there are three) beyond the Pillars of Heracles. He made a four-cubit gold statue of Athena. The Kernaeans call Athena Gorgo, just as the Thracians call Artemis Bendis, the Cretans Dictynna, the Lacedaemonians Oupis. Phorcys died before the statue could be dedicated in the sanctuary. He left three daughters, Stheno, Euryale, Medusa. They did not want to marry anyone, and they divided the property with each ruling one island. They couldn't decide whether to dedicate the Gorgo or to divide it up, but they put in alternately in the treasury of each. There was a companion of Phorcys, a man of noble character, and they used him for everything, "like their eye." Perseus was a fugitive from Argos who had ships and some forces with him. He plundered the sea shores. When he learned that here was a kingdom of women, with lots of gold and few men, he arrived. First he anchored in the strait between Kerne and Sarpedonia, and caught the Eye while he was sailing from one sister to another. This man told him that there was nothing else to take from them worth mentioning, except the Gorgo. He told him how much gold it had. The girls, when Eye didn't come as arranged, met in one place together. Each started blaming the other. Once each had denied having him, they wondered what could have happened. At this point, Perseus sailed up to them, still together, and told them he had Eye. He said he would give him back to them only if they told him where the Gorgo was. He also threatened to kill them if they didn't talk. Medusa said not to show him, but Stheno and Euryale showed him. So he killed Medusa, but gave Eye back to the others. He took the Gorgo and cut it up. He readied a trireme and put Gorgo's head on it, and gave the ship the name Gorgo. He then sailed around in it and collected money from the islanders, killing those who didn't give. He sailed up and demanded money from the Seriphians as well. They asked a few days to collect the money. They gathered human-sized stones and put them in the agora. Then they left Seriphus and went away. Perseus sailed back to demand the money and came to the agora. He found no people but only man-sized rocks. Perseus told the rest of the islanders, when they hadn't provided the money, "Watch out, not to be like the Seriphians, who saw the Gorgon head and turned to stone; you could suffer the same."

Next we have Andromeda's POV!

Now, this retelling is extremely racist and xenophobic, especially when it comes to Andromeda who is a tribal woman instead of a princess because orientalism. She's also in love with Phineus, who's a young man around her age instead of her creepy uncle because the author hated Perseus enough to sanitize him. And here Perseus kidnaps and rapes Andromeda, which is EW! So here's what we'll do in order to fix this part as well:

We'll keep Andromeda the princess of either Aethiopia or Joppa and write about the culture and society we choose in a respectful, more historically accurate manner. Here Andromeda's father Cepheus has to find her a suitor, and he tells her that she's engaged to a guy named Phoenix when in reality she was given to his brother Phineus all this time (she doesn't like any of them, by the way), whom he advices to murder Phoenix, kidnap his daughter as she's praying in her temple and take her on a ship so the she won't know it was him who agreed with this marriage all this time. But because Perseus is out there as well he discovers Andromeda captive on that ship and instantly pities and falls in live with her, so he decides to murder Phineus and his men along with his ship crew in order to release her. This take is based on Conon's Narrations:

"The 40th story tells the history of Andromeda quite differently from the myth of the Greeks. Two brothers were born, Kepheus and Phineas, and the kingdom of Kepheus is what is later renamed Phoenicia but at the time was called Ioppa, taking its name from Ioppe the seaside city. And the borders of his realm ran from our sea [the Mediterranean] up to the Arabs who live on the Red Sea. Kepheus has a very fair daughter Andromeda, and Phoinix woos her and so does Phineas the brother of Kepheus. Kepheus decides after much calculation on both sides to give her to Phoinix but, by having the suitor kidnap her, conceal that it was intentional. Andromeda was snatched from a desert islet where she was accustomed to go and sacrifice to Aphrodite. When Phoinix kidnapped her in a ship (which was called Ketos [sea monster], whether by chance or because it had a likeness to the animal), Andromeda began screaming, assuming she was being kidnapped without her father's knowledge, and called for help with groans. Perseus the son of Danae by some daimonic chance was sailing by, and at first sight of the girl, was overcome by pity and love. He destroyed the ship Sea Monster and killed those aboard, who were only surprised, not actually turned to stone. And for the Greeks this became the sea monster of the myth and the people turned to stone by the Gorgon's head. So he makes Andromeda his wife and she sails with Perseus to Greece and they live in Argos where he becomes king."

In Shadow of Perseus we have Andromeda developing a Stockholm Syndrome and trying to "fix" Perseus after everything he did to her, which is dogshit. So in this "fix it" version we'll have Perseus realizing that Andromeda has a hard time trusting anyone after what she's been through, so he's trying to change himself for her and show her that he loves and respects her, until she finally falls in love with him as well. This helps the narrative humanize Perseus again.

Perseus and Andromeda turn back to Seriphos, where Perseus shows to Polydectes his wealth in order to release his mother. But he refuses, so he loses his control and kills him in order to avenge her. After his crime he can no longer remain in Seriphos for too much time, so him, Danaë and Andromeda arrive firstly in Tiryns, where he meets Proteus and murders him, and then in Argos. Danaë and her mother finally reunite again after so many years of being separated. Meanwhile, Perseus meets his grandfather, Acrisius. Despite of everything they've been through he comes to the conclusion that he will only become make thus enture lineage of disputes and hatred from their family continue if he would kill him, so he decides to forgive him and move on.

[pretty-trans-girl-23]

The new PJO series

Is surprisingly good! Yes they didnt make gabe enough of a jerk but what they did do was allow annabeth a great character moment where she is the one who figures out that Percy is a son of Poseidon which is a spectacular way to show how smart she is. Luke's scar was a bit lackluster but Mr.D and Chiron were both amazing and THEY WERE PLAYING PINOCLE IN A SCENE!!! I also don't understand why they did not mention the oracle of Delphi at all but honestly idc. The minotaur scene was a wonderful way to show something without showing it until the last moment and the combat in said scene was also really well done. I am genuinely surprised that they did so well so far even if I didn't like a few things it was still an amazing premier for the series I hope they do all of the books because that would be so beautiful. OH AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE SWORDS!!! They actually based the swords off of gracean blades of the time which were very similar to some of the first swords ever found especially the pommel. They had Annabeth's Yankees cap, Mr.D drinking diet coke, and Clarisse's electric spear. The fight choreography was so stupendous during the lake fight scene and really let Percy shine. OMG I LOVE THIS SERIES SO MUCH!!!

[ckret2]

Does Bill know the Oracle? What’s he think of her and her prophecies? (Particularly her prophecies about his death)

I haven't put a lot of thought into the Oracle yet, so I might change my mind on this later as I develop my headcanons, but:

Currently, I imagine that the Oracle's position is kind of like, the Oracle of Delphi: super important politically to the mortals who consulted with her as a messenger of the divine; but just a mortal herself with a mortal lifespan, and since she's conveying messages from the divine, it's usually stuff the divines already know about.

If, to Bill, the Axolotl is the pro bono defense attorney he never asked to have, then to him the Oracle is not even the Axolotl's paralegal assistant, not even the Axolotl's secretary, not even the Axolotl's intern; she's like a hobbyist news blogger who occasionally hangs out with the Axolotl at a coffee shop to talk about his current court cases and then quote excerpts of their conversations on her personal twitter; and also the twitter is being run by a new person every four months. (Mortal lifespans are short to Bill.)

For wee mortals like Ford, somebody sharing eons-old information from a potentially-divine entity is an insider with access to occult secrets he could never find on his own. But for a powerful immortal like Bill who regularly moves amongst eons-old social circles, the Oracle isn't an insider; she's an outsider on the fringe of the group with a loose acquaintanceship with one of Bill's acquaintances.

So he doesn't care much about her prophecies. What counts as a "prophecy" for a one-lifespan three-dimensional five-sense skin puppet is "chatting about work" for the Axolotl—an entity who, like Bill, probably has the ability to casually see (at least a little bit of at least one version of) the future.

Historically, the things he's heard about himself through the Oracle are usually like "hey Bill did you hear the Oracle is saying the Green Soup Planet is gonna be sucked into the Nightmare Realm and you're gonna blow it up??" "Aw WHAT, I've been looking forward to blowing it up for centuries. Now the residents are gonna evacuate first. The Axolotl is such a snitch." He thinks the odds she'd learn something important to him are slim.

I also imagine that her "you have the face of the man destined to destroy Bill" isn't some set-in-stone million-year-old prophecy, but rather, something the Axolotl might've said to her like a year ago; and from the Axolotl's perspective the conversation might've been more like "oh hey, clear your schedule next April, it looks like you're gonna get a visit from somebody with the face of the guy who's currently forecasted to kill Bill"—as casually as though he'd checked the weather forecast, saw it's gonna rain tomorrow, and reminded a friend to pack an umbrella.

Ten, twenty years before Ford met the Oracle, the Pines weren't destined to kill Bill, although it was possible; but due to Bill's actions and Ford's reactions and the ripple effects on Stan and the Pines and Gravity Falls, that has now become the most probable future for Bill. Like a weather forecast that can only guess at 50/50 odds of rain next week, but 95% odds of rain tomorrow. The Oracle learned the face of the man (currently) destined to kill Bill (based on the most recent view of the future) only once it became both likely AND relevant so she could help out that guy.

For all those reasons—the Oracle's relatively unimportant position in Bill's eye (as somebody who "only" passes on info from the Axolotl to other mortals), the fact that most of the Oracle's info and prophecies concern things that are already common knowledge to Bill, and the recency of this prophecy—Bill doesn't usually pay attention to what the current Oracle is doing/saying and never heard that the Axolotl told her that Ford (or Stan) is destined to kill him.

He probably doesn't even know the name of the current Oracle. If Ford ever repeats something he learned from Jheselbraum and Bill asks how he learned that and Ford says the Oracle, Bill would be like "ugh, the Axolotl is gossiping about me with mortals AGAIN??" What a snitch.

[sirenjose]

Season 6 Essence 1 Analysis

(I'll primarily be discussing Murro's Great Hero and Joseph's Apollo. This was going to focus on Apollo, but I expanded it to Great Hero at least, as he is the S-tier and there felt to be a fair bit I could say on him)

Season 6 Essence 1 is Greek Mythology themed, but they are all toys created and brought to life by Tracy via “special springs”. The 2 most central figures in this essence are Murro as “Great Hero” and Joseph as “Apollo”.

Murro’s costume is likely based on Heracles, the Greek hero known for his strength and completion of the 12 Labors set for him. Great Hero is wearing a laurel wreath, which Heracles has been depicted with (and the symbolism of “victory” fits him). Murro’s apple is now a golden apple, which connects to his labor where he had to bring back the Golden Apples of the Hesperides. Murro’s outfit and his boar both have images of lion heads on various parts of their armor, which relates to Heracles strength as well as the labor where he had to kill the Nemean lion, which he skinned and wore as a cloak. The Nemean Lion skin protected Heracles from the elements, as well as most weapons, which connects to Great Hero’s skin description mentioning “impenetrable armor”. Speaking of Murro’s boar, Great Hero having a boar can relate to the labor involving him having to capture the Erymanthian Boar alive.

There are several other details that can connect him to Heracles, like how 1 of the other skins in this essence is Cerynitis' Bane, as the capture of the Cerynitian Hind (a deer) was another of Heracles’ labors.

Cerynitian Hind was essentially a large deer with golden antlers that was sacred to Artemis. 4 others are said to draw her chariot. According to 1 myth. these 5 were gifted to her by the nymph Taygete because Artemis saved her from Zeus' pursuit.

As an essence skin connected to a Greek myth, not everything is going to parallel 1 for 1, but there are still some. Such as Hera trying to kill young Heracles potentially relating to the rough way Murro grew up, especially under Bernard. Though in the myth Heracles killed his family after Hera caused him to go mad, Heracles’ family (wife and children) being dead relate to Murro’s own family being dead, both his actual parents based on Murro’s 4th letter as well as Bernard and the others at Hullabaloo during the tragedy at the circus. In a way, there’s also how Heracles was targeted by Hera his whole life, who did her best to try to kill him or make him miserable, connecting to how Murro himself was miserable most of his life, which is why he wants to keep away from people and just spend time with the wild boars and his partner.

To atone for killing his family, he consults the Oracle of Delphi, who has him serve King Eurystheus, Heracles’ cousin (who Hera ensured became the king instead of Heracles) for a period of time, during which he performs the 12 labors for him. Eurystheus fears Heracles may try to take the throne from him, which combined with Hera talking to him, he comes to hate his cousin, and Hera influences him to give Heracles the hardest, most dangerous tasks that were considered to be impossible. Eurystheus feared Heracles’ strength and fame, yet the labors only served to make him even more famous. Eurystheus for Heracles could parallel Bernard for Murro, as Bernard also treated Murro horribly and “bossed” Murro around (based on Murro’s 4th letter) to make him do dangerous things. On top of that, Murro was said to have had a chance to become the “star acrobat” if not for his parents passing away, similar to how Heracles had a chance to become king (until Hera ruined that chance).

Heracles, with his divine strength, didn’t have to submit to any of the labors or punishments, but he chose to do so willingly. I think it is this inner strength and “courage” that is important for him being Murro’s S-tier, as I think this is his inner desire/dream, which connects to Great Hero’s description again. His 3rd letter describes him as “A ‘hero’ seeking self-worth in tragedy”, adding how he escaped a life of being control, but still his “perception of himself” comes from others. Hercules was also someone controlled by others (notably Hera over much of his fate and Eurystheus for many years), yet he continued to persevere through it all and never gave up, both with physical strength as well as the strength of his character. Heracles is someone who managed to push on despite losing his family, compared to Murro in his 4th letter who wants to die now that “everyone is gone”. He is also someone that everyone perceives well of, not to mention Heracles had great self-confidence. So it makes sense why Murro’s S-tier may be him.

After Heracles we have Apollo.

He is at least involved in Heracles’ myth through the involvement of the Oracle of Delphi, which is dedicated to Apollo, who is the god of prophecy (among other things). So just like how Apollo’s description mentions how only he (Apollo) can “give you sunshine and hope, and only I can take that away”, Apollo in a manner was the 1 to send Heracles to serve Eurystheus as part of his atonement.

Apollo can also be semi involved with several other characters of this essence.

Icarus dies after flying too close to the sun despite his father’s (Daedalus’) warning, and Apollo is the god of light (or “sunshine” as we see in Apollo’s description) and associated with the sun.

Cerynitis' Bane is based on the Cerynitian Hind, an animal sacred to Artemis, his sister, and in at least 1 version of the myth Apollo and Artemis appear to Heracles, as they are mad at him for trying to kill it, until he explains why he needed it and they let him go.

As for the b-tiers, Robbie is Pan, who Apollo does have 1 myth with. In this myth, Pan thinks his musical skills are better than Apollo’s, so the 2 have a contest, and they have Mount Tmolus as judge, who in the end declares Apollo the winner. Midas (who was also there) thinks Pan was better, so Apollo punishes him by giving him donkey ears.

Another b-tier is Leonidas, who was said to be from a dynasty descended from Heracles. When he and the Spartans are requested to help defend against the Persians, they go to consult the Oracle of Delphi, who again is tied to Apollo. The oracle essentially tells them either the city will be destroyed or he’ll fight and die.

As for Apollo himself, he was said to have the most influence over the Greeks than any other god (due to the worship he had, as well as the festivals, his oracles, etc…). He was the god of many things, including prophecy and oracles, music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young. He was also known as the god that punished the wicked, as well as the god who drives away evil. This was connected to him being described as the god with bow and arrows, as all sudden deaths, whether as punishment or reward, were believed to be caused by Apollo’s arrows. He could also deliver plagues, and thus also protect men from them, at least via his oracles. The number 7 was also sacred to him, which was why on the 7th of every month people made sacrifices to him.

In connection to the main story, 1 of Apollo’s symbols was the lyre (which he was said to have received from Hermes), which also symbolized his leadership of the Muses (who he presided over, as he was the god of music, song, and poetry). The Muses are mentioned with him in another music contest, this time with the satyr Marsyas, whose hubris led him to challenge Apollo. The Muses in the end rule Apollo the winner, and Apollo punishes him by flaying him.

Apollo is also the father of Orpheus, who inherited his father’s musical talent (and also played on the lyre).

The lyre is the symbol for 1 of the manor owner’s drugs, specifically the one that knocks you out (fake death).

We already know it’s connected to Orpheus (we all already know who Orpheus is) and his use of it during his trip into the underworld to try to rescue Eurydice.

And we recently learned more about the importance of the Muse statues in the manor due to Galatea’s recent letter.

Most notable in there were Terpsichore (Galatea calls out there being 2 in different poses. The 2nd is in the dining room) and Calliope (which has an "incomplete section", which may be the 1 we see leading to the manor owner's study)

There’s also how Asclepius (one of the names of the books in Alice’s room) is another of Apollo’s sons. He was known for his healing ability, as well as how Zeus killed him for bringing back the dead, which Apollo gets revenge for by killing the Cyclops that made Zeus’ thunderbolts, and so why Zeus’ punishes him by having him serve Admetus for a year.

Regarding parallels to Joseph, Apollo is connected to death, considering what we’ve said about his bow and arrows, plagues, and sudden death. He’s also tied to Orpheus, the main character in canon and has the lyre as his symbol (and is the god of music so even more skilled than Orpheus), which could potentially relate to the idea of Joseph being tied to Oletus Manor (as maybe a previous owner) and/or the main story. This combined with Apollo presiding over the Muses could relate to the idea he could’ve been the original owner of the Muse statues in the manor. Apollo’s connection to healing as well as Asclepius and bringing the dead back to life can connect to Joseph trying to see/bring back Claude, not to mention this combined with Apollo’s eternal youth relates to Joseph’s own appearance as well as his desire to stop aging (which we see in his 3rd letter).

As a side note, it’s also been pointed out that Joseph Nicéphore Niépce, who Joseph is based on, invented heliography. “Helios” in Greek means “sun” while “graphein” means “write”, thus “heliography” means “sun writing”. This was the process that created the first and earliest known permanent photograph, an iconic photo of nature titled “View from the Window at Le Gras”. This was taken with the help of the “camera obscura” (meaning “dark room” in Latin), a box-shaped device used as an aid for drawing or entertainment that lets light in through a small opening on one side and projects a reversed and inverted image on the other. The camera obscura was described in Joseph’s 4th letter as well as in his deductions (notably deduction 6).

The way Niépce made the heliograph was by dissolving light-sensitive bitumen in oil of lavender and applying a thin coating over a polished pewter plate. He then inserted this plate into a camera obscura that he positioned near a window in his 2nd story workroom. After several days of exposure to sunlight, the plate yielded an impression of the courtyard, outbuildings, and trees outside.

[rookiesbookies]

No real post bc Im working on an ask but here’s a teaser for a different fic im doing

Graves Niece!Reader x Konig (might turn into also an X Kruger x Horangi fic for this idk still writing it)

I think this is really funny, tell me what yall think!

This isnt the full fic

For the past couple of years, Graves had dedicated himself to taking care of his niece, a bright girl with a brighter future. As a high school student, she had always excelled, studying diligently and achieving remarkable results. Inspired by her legal guardian's activities, she had set her sights on a career in intelligence, the less dangerous side of the work he did.

Graduating with honors, she effortlessly aced every challenge that came her way, surpassing even the highest expectations. Her exceptional abilities did not go unnoticed, as she was scouted by both the FBI and CIA. Despite the potential dangers associated with such a career path, Graves never fretted. He knew his niece was as tough as nails and unwavering in her determination to work in the field she had chosen.

When she returned to his house after college, armed with the code names Oracle of Delphi and Kassandra, his displeasure was evident.

"Phil, please, let me work for Shadow. It's all I've ever wanted," she pleaded with her uncle, her voice tinged with desperation.

"But it's not our family's company, it's mine. And it's dangerous, I can't let you get involved," he responded firmly.

"Phillip, please!” she whined more, “It's all I've worked for, and we only have each other," she continued.

"That's exactly why I need to protect you from this life," he insisted.

She sighed in frustration, muttering, "I should have joined the CIA. At least they would have given me a tour before shutting me down."

“No they would not.”

“There you go, squashing yet another dream of mine.”

“The men who work in this sphere will not all be as caring for you as I am. I will not be able to protect you from them, dammit.”

“We both know this family only learns lessons the hard way. I want to see the base, at least. Who’s going to take on Shadow after you if not me?”

With a protracted sigh, Graves escorted his mid-twenties niece to the base, providing an extensive list of rules the night before. Recognizing the primal nature of his male-dominated workforce, Graves understood the scarcity of female interaction for his men and anticipated the allure of his niece's figure. Her captivating figure prompted double takes from frat boys, yet she remained steadfast in her pursuit of a 'real man,' dismissing brainless college boys with an occasional fling as insufficient. A brief dalliance with a Law graduate student soured when his self-righteousness eclipsed the capacity to love anyone but himself. In this enclave of primal instincts and complex relationships, Graves sought to navigate the delicate balance between protecting his niece and managing the untamed nature of his workforce.

Arriving at the base, she found herself pleasantly surprised. Graves had arranged for her to have a dedicated barracks, normally shared but now tailored to her needs, boasting top-notch amenities. The introductions with Graves' men were brief, conducted in a group setting. Positioned on a step, Graves gathered his team around him, assuming a commanding presence. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation and curiosity as she navigated her new surroundings. The personalized accommodations and the commanding introduction hinted at the unique journey that awaited her within the military confines.

[sunny6677]

(She's also very rich, which explains her more fancy look in the photo—her family probably makes her wear that to events and such.)

Okay, so here's the oc?? I did intend for her to be an incarnation since that's the most popular vote, but I figured since it seemed to be kind of a tie, I'd give a ramble about my basic ideas for her being an incarnation or her just being created by Odysseus—and then see which ones you all like better, so here it goes.

Incarnation idea:

So, Ophelia always felt as if something were off, or as if there was something she had forgotten in this idea. Not to mention, there were several normal things about her that did SOUND normal, but also a few things that couldn't be explained. She'd always been really good at archery even though she was younger (even when she started archery, she was surprisingly a very good beginner)—and she even sneaks into practicing archery cuz her family slightly disapproves of it. She's always felt as if she was something greater or used to be something greater (the literal King of Ithaca and also a Greek Hero). She's always strongly resonated with the Odyssey and Odysseus as a 'character' in general, but was particularly fixated on Telemachus and Penelope. And she's also always been very good at games due to her cunning and strategy, but she's also very good at survival situations due to this as well. And she's also always felt kind of emotional when thinking about Polites, Eurylochus or any of the members in Odysseus' crew. She's had dreams that almost feel like memories from Odysseus' point of view sometimes. Etc etc.

However, when she's found after literally shooting down a bunch of monsters and Chiron takes her to camp, they possibly don't think she's a half blood at first???? I can't tell if they would think she was one or if she wasn't, but I can imagine maybe Athena ordered for her to come there. But either way, she is kind of an outcast since no one can tell what her deal is, until the Oracle of Delphi either says a prophecy that reveals it—or Poseidon or Athena reveal it somehow, etc etc. And she also is kind of terrifying during a game of Capture the Flag perhaps?? Because her subconscious is treating it like it's an actual battle, so she makes a bunch of strategies and ends up making an enemy of the Ares Cabin for a little while.

I imagine she'd go on a quest with Percy or Jason or anyone else at some point, but I was thinking Percy since Sea of Monsters is literally based on the Odyssey—either way though, it finally hits her what she is at some point, so she shoots up in Polyphemus' Cave and proudly identifies herself as 'Odysseus'. She also maybe has a bit of an identity crisis due to the whole situation??? There's a whole dilemma she has between actually BEING Odysseus, or if she's just not Odysseus anymore.

Either way, afterward, this probably starts a bunch of stuff with the God's. Athena assists her on her journey and takes on the role of her mentor again, Poseidon and Zeus are strangely bitter toward her but don't do anything cuz she's a child and not the full grown war general they used to know, Hermes is SUPER friendly toward her and relieved to 'have her back', and all the other God's treat her like she's Odysseus. They even refer to her as that and use he/him pronouns for her sometimes. I think maybe it'd be like a Steven Universe situation where she has to convince everyone that just because she has his soul doesn't mean she's him? But I'm unsure.

Now for the idea where he just created her:

Odysseus basically made her soul in Elysium because he wanted to have a soul to follow in his footsteps, or finish some unfinished business he had, or to accomplish something he wanted her to. Either way, there are signs of this throughout her life too. She's oddly good at archery and always feels like there's a voice speaking in the back of her mind (Odysseus guiding her), she sometimes sees a 'strange man' who helps her out (Odysseus in disguise), and has always had very bad incidents in the ocean or on the beach (due to Poseidons bitterness). And she's always felt like she was meant for a greater purpose. She ends up being found by Chiron or possibly by Athena under Odysseus' request. Either way, she heads to camp, and it goes kinda the same as I mentioned in the incarnation idea? She does very good at a game of Capture of The Flag, but comes off as fucking horrifying during it and makes an enemy of the Ares cabin. She does have dreams, but they're mainly Odysseus speaking to her or showing her stuff instead. Etc etc. Either way, Odysseus ends up claiming her as his creation by making a bow symbol appear above her head, or sending a direct sign by straight up saying that she's his creation. Which probably leads to her going on a quest and finding Odysseus in the Underworld, who informs her of her 'purpose'. I imagine they have a stern dad and bitter daughter type dynamic? But it's mainly because she doesn't understand why he made her for all of this, and she gets kinda mad at him sometimes even if she knows he knows best.

I do imagine it's resolved in some way and she carries out what he needs her to do—but she almost dies in the process several times, even if she makes it out alive. Odysseus does show he's proud of her, but that doesn't exactly mend their relationship even if they are a bit better toward eachother at that point and have a deeper understanding of eachother.

Athena treats her like a copy of Odysseus and like her new student, Poseidon and Zeus are very bitter with her—though Poseidon does have to hold himself back from inconveniencing her sometimes, Hermes is very friendly with her, etc etc.

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

Is there any truth to the claim that there was widespread drug use in ancient times? I've heard that the oracles were really just high and that Vikings would eat magic mushrooms.

i can only speak for europe. but no, these claims aren't true. i mean, it's impossible to say they definitely didn't use drugs but until someone presents evidence they did i don't see any reason to assume they did.

in the case of pythia (the oracle at delphi), it has long been argued that she was getting high off of some kind of gas. from what i have read, the "evidence" for this is really weak. there are a few references to "pneuma" in ancient sources, which can be translated as "gas", but it can also more poetically/abstractly just refer to "breath" or "inspiration" in general. and even when it does seem to clearly be referring to some kind of physical "gas" based on the context, i see no reason why it couldn't just be just normal air that was given spiritual significance.

and in the case of the vikings, again, there's literally no evidence for this. it's just wishful thinking on the part of a bunch of desperate stoners. literally the last thing you want to do before you're going into combat is to take psycehedelics. be serious.

in general, there's no evidence of "widespread" drug use, no. drugs were certainly used, like opium, but almost exclusively for medical purposes. is it possible that there were some isolated cases of people using these drugs (like opium) recreationally? i suppose. but there's no evidence of it. you really think some ancient roman pleb would come home from a long day's worth and just light up a joint or shoot up some heroin? lmao. no.

in the end these theories are only really pushed by coping drug addled losers who can't comprehend the idea of people getting inspired or having creative thoughts without the help of drugs.

[wyvernwriterarchive]

The Wyvern Brotherhood

The Wyvern Brotherhood is a story about a man rebelling against a corrupt empire in order to stop them from expending and destroying the countries of the world. It is an FE based SRPG, with specific influences from Thracia 776 and The Binding Blade, as well as Final Fantasy Tactics.

Currently, it isn't actually in development, but it does have a planned out plot, with themes of equality, freedom and community, along with how revolution without a plan may lead to chaos.

Main Characters

🔥Drake🔥

"That bastard, Griffith. He is the cause of all of our suffering. I won't run anymore. I will take down anyone who stands in the way of our future and then choke the life out of him with my bare hands!"

A young firebrand whose father, a man named Erving, sought to live in peace one day and fought to gain that peace, with many people at his side. He was imprisoned and slain by the empire for his radical views, and a sea of fire erupted near their home in the night as Drake fled.

Drake watched as that fire was used against innocents of a foreign land they were at "war" with, and against any civilians who spoke out against the state.

He saw this and was filled with rage. Both wanting revenge for his fallen family and wanting to liberate the people of the world of this cruel imperial regime, Drake created a band of mercenaries known as the Wyvern Brotherhood.

In truth, they were actually a small rebellion army, gathering forces of people who sympathized with, or actively believed in his cause, and filled their hearts with hope.

Drake fights with resolve and bravery and cares deeply about his people. But he is young, and his anger at blatant injustice often leads to him making brash, reckless commands, and putting the lives of many st risk. A part of him knows that death is a possibility. But does he realize it?

🌑Delphi🌑

"My people's history will not be forgotten. But it's how they will be remembered that bothers me. We were protecters of the land and the world. We were not 'witches'. And if you ever call us that again, you will regret it."

A young oracle who is part of a scattered and wounded people known as the Yesterdents. They were nomadic protectors of nature, who guided the world to a brighter path.

One day, however, something changed. A woman named Agrat, who led a tribe of her own, foresaw a terrible tragedy. A man wielding magic as powerful as the sun, and using that power to conquer the world.

Agrat warned the man, Emperor Griffith of Delric, to cease his ambitious notions. He did not. While she knew she would be executed, she also knew that there would be hope. Even if she had to die, and her people were to be scattered.

Delphi was one of those survivors of the massacre. It was awful losing the life she once did. But…she had to have faith. The calamity was coming. And she had to act fast. Otherwise, the world would fall to ruin. She used her clairvoyance and wisdom to seek out the person who could help bring an end to the chaos. That man was Drake.

Delphi serves as a wise and professional figure. She seems to be guided by the principles of her people, and by the futures, she can envision in her mind. Anxiety and panic are not good for a tactical mind in auch a sensitive position. So she hides her concerns... even when the future she sees is grim.

☀️Philip☀️

"I understand your desire for justice. For a new world. But our society needs structure, order, and stability, all things the empire has now. To try and tear it all down immediately would be...dangerous, would it not?"

The prince of the Great Delric, the Empire of Dawn. Raised by his mother before moving in with his father, his soft nature was seen as weakness by Griffith. He attempted to break and mold him into a powerful warrior...and when that seemed to fail, he shifted his focus into him being something else. A sacrifice.

Philip noticed that his father had taken some deals with a strange group of people. Not actively malicious on the surface, yet they, along with many others, inspired his father to fight fiercely in a war in order to gain more power and influence.

He hasn't witnessed war. But he felt like it was... unnecessary. He was a diplomatic soul with a bleeding heart. And a curious mind. He decided to do some investigations on his father's new allies and new ideals.

Those investigations led to him meeting Drake and Delphi, leaders of the Wyvern Brotherhood. With their help, he uncovers a dangerous plot to gain power through the church and the emperor, hoping to bring order and stability to the land.

Philip is an idealistic young man with a kind and compassionate heart. The perfect ruler, at least as far as everyone else, is concerned. But that perfection is at risk of being corrupted or twisted by the chaos around him. And his black and white world view will be challenged, as he too will notice the flames, and he will soon know who started them.