#like it’s from mythology and it would just make good sense

[raayllum]

Gift Giving & Primal vs First Elves :: Or Going Off Into the Deep Lore Deep End

Remember that meta I compiled about Greek mythology, deceptive gift giving, and TDP? Yeah it's time to talk about the gift motif properly as well as some other deep lore things because these excellent thoughts ( @spicyviren, @kradogsrats, and @its-leethee) got the wheels in my brain spinning.

AKA an unknown amount of sectioned word vomit into the nature of magic, where it comes from, how deep magic operates, some gifts and motifs, and Leola, just a little.

Let's go.

Gift Motif

The gift motif is one that's a bit of a slowburn in TDP. While characters will often pass and hand over objects — tools, artefacts, metaphorical responsibilities or trust (handing over the egg, for example) — to one another, there's not a big emphasis on gifts in the first three seasons.

There are some, such as Callum's letter from Harrow (that he's given by Claudia once again initially as a goodbye), Ezran giving Bait to Barius in S3, and Rayla's family pendant, but most of these, as you've might already noticed, are contextualized within Goodbyes. Whether the gift motif will amount in arc 2 to escaping this "final gift" context remains to be seen, but that's how it tends to work in interpersonal relationships.

There is an element of peace offering in hoping that returning Zym — a gift and/or gesture of good will — will help usher in peace, but I think (as of now at least) that ties further into the series' theme of Reciprocal Exchange (the assassin mission being an eye for an eye vs olive branch for olive branch) than outright gift giving. (Although we will probably talk about Exchange and gift giving at some point because there is also a thematic tether there.)

However, there is one other thing that is more and more often referred to as a gift in Arc 1, and that's Magic. Specifically, dark magic.

Now, this actually isn't that dissimilar from what the Goodbye gifts amount to, either. In Harrow's letter, he gifts Callum the Key of Aaravos believing it to be a powerful magical relic of some kind; Rayla's pendant makes its way from Ethari to her to Callum, who then uses it for magical purposes; and Bait, as a glow toad, is connected to an arcanum himself.

I do think it's noteworthy though that in Arc 1, (dark) magic being a gift is emphasized upon, specifically because of these lines for Khessa:

Upon first watching it back in 2019, it made sense that dark magic would be referred to this way, even when I just thought maybe it was that humans had been given 'nothing,' as Claudia says. Dark magic is closely tied to ideas of theft and thievery — stealing magic from others to harness its power for yourself — and the series is deeply interested in concepts of ownership or who has 'true' ownership over something, in magic, a throne/crown, a price to pay, etc. This follows neatly into Arc 2 (for ex: why Karim seeking to steal the Sun Seed is a metaphorical dark path even if it didn't outright involve dark magic through Kim'Dael), which we'll build on later.

That said, given the depth of the knowledge at the Great Bookery that is open to Sunfire elves more than any other type of elf, and the information that Tales of Xadia and Ripples gives us...

While elves warned that if humans were meant to wield magic they would have been born with it, [Leola] gifted the wisest humans with secrets: the language of the dragons and the runes that shaped spells. With the unicorn’s gift, the most determined minds among the humans could finally harness primal magic.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters [...] Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. And so there came a calamity.

It makes it more than likely than, unlike other elves such as Lujanne or Ibis, Khessa had reason to believe/know that there used to be primal human mages in the past... and that it wasn't 'enough' for them ultimately, because they still hungered and developed (and were given?) dark magic. "Your kind could not be satisfied with what you were given" was about the rejection of primal magic from Leola (the unicorns) in favour of a darker kind that involves theft and "dirtying yourself" (5x08) with dark magic.

But at the same time, this complicates the Gift Giving motif of including not just dark magic, but being also for primal magic — for humans, at least.

And also for elves. (Ignoring how "great orb" is very similar to "great one" for now.)

Janai: It was a gift. But there's more to it than that. The great orb began as this. Karim: This is... a sun seed?

Now, the Great Orb being grown from a Sun 'literal' seed makes sense. We've known for a long time that in Xadia, "magic is everywhere. It's just part of the vibrance or spirit of things" (1x05). Primal magic naturally occurring in plants, animals, and elves likewise makes sense on that note. Just as not "many could bear the gruelling path of a rune mage," Karim cannot bear to have patience and faith in something that will only come to fruition centuries later.

That said, I raise the question: how functionally different is the Great Orb from say, a sun primal stone would hypothetically be? If primal stones and primal magic were gifts to humanity from unicorns — from creatures connected to the Star arcanum, for lack of a better understanding — then why not magic from Startouch (?) elves to other elves.

How do we know that all magic isn't simply a gift that was given once upon a time?

From the First Elves to the Primal Elves.

Primal vs First Elves

So what's the difference between First Elves and Primal elves?

Well we have a few pieces of lore:

1) Zubeia's status as a "heavenly majesty" (which we'll come back to in the next section) gives her authority to speak in the name of the first elves, who are effectively gods to humankind and/or Xadians ("Have our Gods died? / Where do the fabled Great Ones hide?" —the Epic of the Void

2) It seems that the First Elves are, as of now and for a while, exclusively in reference to what would otherwise be called Startouch elves, although the latter is seemingly a name that came later given Rayla's affirmation of "ancient legends". This is reaffirmed in Tales of Xadia's two lone mention of First Elves:

No group of elves presents a greater mystery than the Startouch elves. Sometimes called the First Elves, those bound to the Star primal are rumored to have made great marks on Xadia’s ancient history—but beyond story and legend, little real evidence is left to us today [...] Among the few extant records of Startouch elves are the Scrolls of the First Elves, now kept in the Great Bookery of Lux Aurea.

3) At a post-S2 con in 2019 (how's that for a far reach?) we got a timeline of the events of Xadia laid out for us. The description of the very first piece of history and era we know of goes as follows, with the Rise of Elarion happening 2000 years ago re: the Dragon Prince era ("The Return of Aaravos"):

The Era of the First elves is the first recorded era 5,000 years prior to the current era. Dragons and elves were not allied during this period. There were no distinct primal elves. This is an era before all that. Humans suffered during this period. 

—2019 con timeline

4) Justin and Aaron reaffirm this at the 2:30 ish minute mark of this video (a couple of months before even S3 was released) by reaffirming distinctly to Primal elves. Later (7:40-ish mark) we see this distinction reaffirmed again through the statement of, "The patterns have been that these primal based elves have grown cultures and civilizations that have become separate and differentiated from kind of whatever the early days were with the First elves were."

Okay, so there was 100% a time where there were only First Elves, and humans, and Primal elves as we knew them (maybe still with the hands and horns, but no arcanum? Or no singular, distinct arcanum) didn't exist. Why does this matter?

This is where the deep lore timeline gets tricky, as we don't know precisely when 1) humans received magic and 2) at what stage the First Elves / Great Ones / Startouch elves 'left' Xadia, only that they did, apparently, when Elarion (the human city) needed help: "Elarion, unworthy whelp / Wept as the stars turned black the sky / They donned their masks / They turned their backs / And left Elarion to die". Why abandon the city (beyond indifference/cruelty as Aaravos would likely claim), who knows.

However, we can assume the timeline looks something like this:

Era of the First Elves

Primal elves (and presumably archdragons *) are crafted / develop into being, whatever that means

Humans are magic-less and are having a bad time

Unicorns / Leola extend sympathy despite the fact that the First Elves tell her not to (Book One: Novelization / Tales of Xadia)

Humans have primal magic (Ripples / Tales of Xadia)

This attracts negative attention, consolidated in Elarion ("the stars she asked their light to cast / and stop the dragons’ fiery might" / "as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted")

Elarion asks for help and the Stars leave

Aaravos, the last star — presumably already Fallen from the First Elves — gives them dark magic under the guise of protection even though it will inevitably help him (i.e. give him the ability to possess people)

Dark magic replaces primal magic as the primary form for humans

Tension and violence escalates (unicorns are hunted to near extinction). Sol Regem is removed as King of the Dragons

Under Dragon Queen Luna Tenebris, the daughter of an elven leader suggests the Judgement of the Half-Moon, causing for humans to be banished rather than eradicated, and the continent split in two

Again, nothing too crazy / not too much we haven't already known or guessed at for a while.

But like I said, I'm gonna propose two theories, so bear with me:

Theory #1: What is Deep Magic?

The First Elves engaged with what we're gonna call Deep or Old Magic, for lack of a better term. There can be an assumption at times that this magic would be more 'pure' or less 'diluted' than dark magic or even the primal magic we've seen on screen. However, I think that's less than likely. Dark magic is often times a bad path for good outcomes, and primal magic can be a 'good' magic for bad outcomes (the blood freezing spell, for example).

While dark magic is a more textually malevolent magic system and primal magic is more true neutral — able to be used as a tool and a source of connection for the user — I don't think this necessarily means that Deep Magic is inherently enlightening (we see with the Ocean arcanum and S5 that knowledge can be an immense burden) or that it's on the opposite end of the spectrum and is outright benevolent.

What, then, am I suggesting Deep Magic to be? Well, we have some clues likewise from the same old interview post-s2 that we haven't had much basis to (potentially) understand until now, in which it's stated:

Deeper magic and deeper gifts that the original beings received [...] practical, usable, powerful magic is drawn from the six primal sources, right? But there is this idea that there's this earlier, less differentiated power kind of magic that's deeper and more - I don't kind of want to say what all of them are. It's not that important now, it has more to do with the history of beings and their interactions with each other. But Aaravos cares about some of this stuff. The best I can say is that one of them's Power — but well, what does that mean?

The six primal sources — potentially just five (hence why only 5 gemstones seem to occur naturally in nature, and Star seemingly doesn't) — are all based around physical, somewhat tangible principles. Earth, Ocean, Sun (fire/light), Sky (wind/weather) are perhaps the most tangible, with only Moon dipping into something into something more metaphysical: illusions and questioning the nature of reality, the nature of death, etc. However, I'd argue that the Moon arcanum's emphasis on death still makes it something that is particularly important to creatures who are mortal (but more on that later).

What I am arguing for is then, therefore, that Deep Magic is magic drawn from Concepts and Ideas > tangible things found in nature or parts of other magical creatures.

Three concepts, to be exact: (translated dark magic screenshot from Cartoon Universe spells reversed).

Zubeia: He chose as his instruments those who had strong hearts and strong minds, but who had an insatiable thirst and fascination with magic (power).

Three quasar diamonds, three deep magic concepts. Heart, Mind, Power.

("To know something truly and deeply, you must know it with your head, hand, and heart. Mind, body, and spirit." / "She laid before me her scales, her blindfold, and her sword, and told me to choose.")

Now, I don't know if it's these three concepts exactly — I could Truth, or Justice, or something like that — or even if it's three. But given what little we know about Deep magic thus far and how much the series' likes its threes, I think that's the likeliest number and combination.

We've known for a while that there's something weird with the connection between dark magic, spells that use blood, and 'star' magic. We know it's unlikely that Aaravos being able to possess people who have used dark magic was just a happy accident discovered after humans started using it. We know that when Callum is offered the dark magic version of the cube in his dreams, the symbol is blood red: "You can have unlimited power." And that dark magic "became the key that unlocked a place of power for humans in Xadia" (Tales of Xadia).

So what if dark magic stems from the vein of Deep magic that's taken from the concept of Power? What if when Aaravos offered his pawns "unlimited" Power, or when Kpp'Ar accused Viren of (potentially using star magic) "making the same choice you always made: the one that gives you Power," they meant it?

Alternatively, this could mean that most other Startouch elves — their longevity, their indifference — comes from the vein of Mind and subsequent intellectual detachment? Enough intelligence and reason not to hunger for more (Power), but not enough compassion and empathy to sympathize with others (Heart).

And it would also tie into Leola being unique among her own kind for her heart taking pity on the humans, and giving them primal magic — perhaps in the vein of Heart, if we're keeping things consistent — and why love ("To know something truly and deeply [...] I love you with all of myself, and I always will" / "To love is simply to know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep") has been consistently tied to Callum unlocking arcanums. The "Narrative of Strength (power)" vs "Narrative of Love" being even more literal than we thought.

This wouldn't be too out of line since Moon arcanum philosophy already borrows heavily from Plato's idea of the forms/reality (Plato's allegory of the cave, anyone?) and the forms basically mean "your imagined ideal of the object in your mind is going to be more perfect than any tangible, 'real' version of the object could ever be." That being applied to living beings who are literally in the sky would track a certain amount, in addition to the idea that however primal magic is set up in Xadia right is "the whole world is like a giant primal stone; sky magic is all around us, and it's also in me, with every breath we take." But I digress.

With the distinction of Deep Magic as 1) separate and a sea that flows into the primal as well as 2) older and earlier than primal magic, now onto the next theory:

Theory #2: First elves and the Archdragons?

Now admittedly this one is more speculative since beyond knowing 1) the First elves = what we'd call Startouch elves, 2) the rest of them except Aaravos 'left' Xadia a while ago, and 3) the aforementioned possible 'Mind' deep magic thing, we very quickly run out of set knowledge into full blown speculation. Beyond

With that in mind, I wanna talk about the... weirdness, I suppose, between the Archdragons / draconic royal family and the First Elves.

There's a few notes to this: we know that Ancient Draconic is the language of primal magic, indicating that dragons existed and presumably had primal magic before elves did, and that elves had to be given that linguistic knowledge at least to a certain degree.

Then we also have the way Zubeia is referred to being mirrored with the way she describes Aaravos later:

Likewise, the one person/creature we've seen referred to as a god outside the Epic of the Void poem is Avizandum by Harrow (bonus points for the game motif of "entire armies have fallen like toys" because of him):

Bloodmoon Huntress also asserts that from an elven point of view (or at least Lain and Tiadrin, and presumably Runaan, too) that "Dragons are the lifeblood, the very core of Xadia" and generally assumed that dragons have the most powerful connection to their individual primal sources.

So I'd be willing to wager (esp since Sol Regem is at least 1,2000+ years old) that Archdragons at least once upon a time had been contemporaries of the First Elves if not peers. What and why that connection exists and how relevant it is for today, I don't know, but I do think there's something there, especially since the one example we have of a First Elf-Dragon relationship in Aaravos, Avizandum, and Zubeia, was perceived to be positive somewhat on all sides — a matter of trust on his end (in order to be "betrayed") and a matter of reverence and importance on theirs; "admired and loved by all" / "you meant something to him".

There is also something to be said for the Archdragons being the most powerful embodiment of the primal sources (alongside maybe some rare and noteworthy elves, like Queen Aditi) still being "unable to risk a direct confrontation" with only one singular and Fallen Startouch elf. What would a whole slew of them at the height of their power look like? (And yet it is implied that the Nova Blade is "ivory draconic" so... maybe you just have to get a First Elf close enough to the mouth to be consumed / bitten? Or perhaps the Nova Blade is made from the tooth/claw of a 'Star' arcanum dragon.)

TLDR; it's looking more and more like Startouch elves as we understand them and First Elves in generally are — while emotive and feeling the way humans and elves are — something very different from anything else we've seen thus far in terms of knowledge and power skill, and that distinction is only going to be made more and more apparent as the story goes on.

Theory #3: Where do we go from here?

So if Deep Magic is distinct from Primal, and is distinct from 2/3 kinds of Deep Magic in dark magic (derived from 5-primal and Power deep magic thoughts)... where do we go from here, magically speaking?

Well, the important thing to note is that the story has given us some thematic clues. Aaravos is concerned with exile and power, both things we see thematically most represented by human characters (with some elven exceptions like Karim and Kim'Dael). The other Star touch elves are very on brand for "Xadian exile" as their favourite punishment as well as extreme isolationism ("I knew I had to be strong alone" etc). Therefore, whatever answer we give Magically also has to reconcile these issues from a thematic and character based standpoint.

It seems like a switch of where people are concentrating energy — for Startouch elves and humans — needs to have a drastic shift to one of the other veins/concepts of deep magic that will hopefully heal the rifts. If Aaravos is Power (humans) and the others are 'Mind' (Xadian indifference/isolation and banishment) for lack of a better idea, then subverting that binary and shifting more to a third 'Love' path seems to be very on brand for TDP. Holding both at the same time but being guided by a higher principle of peace and harm reduction is what Ezran's 4x03 speech is all about, after all.

Something something both Xadia and magic and the First Elves being reunited with Xadia / humanity and elvenkind as TDP's endgame, something something.

Other Gift Giving Thoughts

The other thing I wanna talk about now that everything else is laid out is how gifts are Given, in TDP. We see time and time again relationships and magic systems being framed on the idea of whether they are giving, taking, both in a bad way or in a good way. There seems to be two main indicators for gift giving, therefore, either that in the receiver is worthy, or that the exchange is going to be reciprocal.

At its best, a gift works as intended.

Humans (and elves?) are given primal magic and generally use it for exploration and to care for themselves / one another The sun seed is given to the Sunfire elves, but they must nurture it. Callum gives Rayla her father's bow and she uses it to protect them. Callum achieves enlightenment and understanding of him and is rewarded with primal magic twice, even if the Ocean in particular is a bit murkier than he'd probably like. Gifts and belongings are relinquished or restored for freedom, for hope, for peace.

Here we have to wonder if Leola's Last Wish reconciles both the Goodbye gift motif and the gift of Magic motif, possibly resulting in the gift of the sun seed or more likely something to do with primal magic / alleviate the fallout of dark magic's consequences.

For example, to get an answer from Rex Igneous — a seeming wealth of knowledge — you have to give him a worthy gift that is also a sacrifice of some kind, according to Nath'an.

However, Ezran points out the major flaw in this line of thinking, as "We offered gifts that meant a lot to us, but the truth is, they don't mean anything to you." Not everyone is going to value the same thing or think the same thing is worth the price that was paid.

We see this interpersonally most with the mage fam ("Maybe the world would be better off without magic" from Soren, whose life was saved with it) and with Rayla and Callum (as Rayla's gift of sacrifice by leaving is something Callum did not want and rightfully did not receive well, alongside her moonstone pendant). Again: what is defined as worthy, or worthiness, is in the eye of the beholder.

Just like one of the initial thoughts that inspired this meta, Khessa asserts that dark magic is a magic that "takes" > being reciprocal for both parties, nevermind a gift. The irony, however, runs a bit deeper, as Aaravos thinks the same of his fellow stars:

But the stars kept from them one secret still: that their first lesson—patience—was not a gift of the stars at all. You see, patience is a lesson the humans taught themselves. No, the stars do not know patience, for they have no need for it. The stars want for nothing, and take all to their liking.

And we see this idea of a 'false gift' show up time and time again in the series. Nyx pretends to offer passage but actually wants to steal Zym; Rayla's act of love in leaving is a curse upon Callum's heart and wellbeing; dark magic itself is a false trade of sorts, given how unevenly it tips scales in Aaravos' favour and how much it ruins both the environment and body of its caster.

[The elven thief Lasair] never saw the precious blossoms fade and turn to cold ashes when exposed to the dawn. They never learned their gift was perceived as a curse, not a trade. 

—Tales of Xadia

Kim'Dael goes to Queen Aditi under false pretences ("The Queen's Mercy") but the gift that Aditi gives her is nothing good at all:

What pretty bauble, she wondered, had she tricked the queen into forging as a token of protection? What could be powerful enough to ward away the wrath of dragons?

Just as humans sought the stars' help to protect them from the ire of the dragons, Kim'Dael sought Aditi's. And just as Aaravos offered them a false magic that would protect and ultimately trap/destroy then, so does Aditi, with magic that doesn't seem to be entirely dark or primal:

“But know this: the binding around your neck—it is made with magic not unlike your own. It is a magic that demands, that takes."

A form of magic even maybe that demands sacrifice for that kind of Power.

You could almost say it's something Deeper.

Conclusion

Hope you enjoyed going completely off the rails with me, and that this long (winded) post got you thinking! I'll probably do a followup discussing the implications of what we have here for potential Laurelion-Aaravos later. In the meantime, take the fruits of my labour, and spin your own hamster wheels if you'd like.

#the dragon prince #tdp #tdp meta #gift motif #dark magic #primal magic #worldbuilding #deep lore dive #i'm also pretty sure aaravos or someone got cast out bc of the primal magic thing too #stars wanted a punishment of some kind. yeah #but more on that later #something something 'but this isn't true strength. it's only power'

[maniculum]

Bestiaryposting Results: Mlekragg

Unsurprisingly, multiple people read the entry and immediately clocked what this was. (Thank you for not actually making a guess in text, so that people who don't recognize it are able to work without that preconception.) I didn't want to leave it out, because the mythological ones are fun, but unlike some of the others, the modern conception of this beast is pretty much exactly what the bestiary says.

Anyway, as always, if you don't know what I'm talking about, you can find an explanation for this whole thing at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting. If you want to join in, the new entry for each week is tagged with "maniculum bestiaryposting" so it should be findable. This week's entry can be reviewed here:

Below the cut you will find the drawings responding to it, in roughly chronological order:

@silverhart-makes-art (link to post here) decided to branch out in an unusual direction with this one, in order to avoid drawing the creature they'd identified from the entry and also have some fun with it. I just think this is some quality creature design. Love the mask-thing, love the springy tail, and that's a really good rendering of a cuttlefish face IMHO. There's a really interesting explanation for all of these features, what inspired them and how it all works together, in the linked post, which you should go read.

@moonygryffin (link to post here) took a more direct approach, with the twist that the creature here is modeled on American fauna rather than ones the medieval Europeans would have been aware of. The body is a mountain lion, and the man-like head is a golden-headed lion tamarin, which of course comes with its own mane. I enjoy the choice to not use a lion lion, but rather two animals with "lion" in their name; also I've always thought lion tamarins were very cool-looking. For more details -- and an example of an attempt by MoonyGryffin to draw the same creature several years ago -- see the linked post. (Also thank you for providing alt text.)

@sweetlyfez (link to post here) has made an attempt to take the entry literally without drawing the creature she has recognized, which is a challenge considering how specific the description is. I think the decision to give it flea legs to help with that exceptional jumping is clever. SweetlyFez describes the result as an "awful creature" and... honestly I can't argue, I wouldn't want to be anywhere near one of these. In fact I think I'm going to wrap up this commentary and scroll down so I don't keep making eye contact with it.

@pomrania has also decided to go the route of "let's get weird with it", and avoided the literal interpretation by re-analyzing the word "has". This is similar to that style of joke one hears now and then -- you know, "he has the heart of a poet... he keeps it in a jar at home." (Incidentally, props to Mary Shelley for being perhaps the only person who could make that claim and not be kidding.) So this creature has the face of a man and the body of a lion, not in the sense that it was born with them, but in the sense that it keeps them as possessions. Very clever, and the underlying creature design is also fantastically creepy in my opinion.

@coolest-capybara (link to post here) mentions that she didn't recognize the description, and has given us this really cool-looking, rather menacing creature in their excellent medieval style. (This is why I insist on not naming the beasts even when it seems clear what it is -- this amazing piece of art might have looked entirely different if someone posted a spoiler.) I'm really struck by how it simultaneously looks like a patchwork sort of creature (different front & back legs, etc.) but all flows together into a cohesive whole. Just really well done, I think. (Also, thank you for including alt text.)

@cheapsweets (link to post here) has drawn the creature mid-leap, showing off its jumping prowess by shooting straight up into the air. I think this drawing does a very good job at combining human and lion anatomy to make something unsettling -- and the inclusion of the skull diagram up in the top left points to the amount of thought that went into this. As always, please check out the linked post for a detailed discussion of the design. (Also, thank you for including alt text.)

@strixcattus (link to post here) has drawn one that's oddly cute, and looks a bit worried. However, according to the description they've written in the linked post, this reaction on my part is probably going to get me killed, because apparently they're still quite vicious. I like it, though -- and, as always, I urge you to go read the linked post for this one.

On to the Aberdeen Bestiary... oh, we can't, actually. This is another missing page. So here's the illustration from the Ashmole Bestiary instead:

So, first of all, this is indeed the manticore, and I'm sure most if not all of the people who said they had guessed it got that correct.

Second, we can also note that all the artists who said something along the lines of "well we know about the issues of drawing medieval scorpions, so the scorpion-tail description doesn't need to be literal" were also correct there. Apparently this time a scorpion tail is just spiky all over, which I have to admit does look kinda cool.

Now let's address the elephant in the room. WHAT is that thing on its HEAD? My best guess is that it's meant to be a crown -- medieval art often sticks hats on nonhuman creatures with human faces, almost as if the artist wants to make sure you know it looks like a human head on purpose. I don't see crowns that often, though; usually it's just a cloth hat. (The one in Bodley MS 764, where I got the text for this entry, is clearly wearing a Phrygian cap.) I find myself unable to see it as anything but a daring hairstyle that is absolutely not working for it, though.

Anyway. The manticore is an odd one in its continuity here -- a lot of the mythical creatures in the bestiary have been changed, reinterpreted, or forgotten in the intervening centuries. I think maybe the manticore happens to have hit that sweet spot where it's popular enough that people remember it, but not so popular that it gets excessively telephoned through widespread transmission. I think a couple people noted that the Standard Fantasy manticore is more or less spot on to this description, and indeed, I can only think of one change:

(Art from the Magic: the Gathering card "Crimson Manticore", artist Daniel Gelon)

At some point, those bastards got wings. It's not universal at this time, but if you do an image search for "manticore", the majority of the modern ones are winged. I'm not really sure where that came from.

(Side note: I tested this by doing a Google image search, and one of the top results was a particularly odd-looking image, so I clicked on it out of curiosity. It was at the top of an... article? on a webpage I'd never heard of, and the opening of said article included the sentence, "In medieval bestiaries and art, the manticore was depicted with unique features such as paws, teeth, and fur." You don't say there, bud.)

Interestingly, the D&D manticore is slightly different from the description in an additional way.

Instead of a scorpion tail, it has a tail covered in spines. This has apparently been part of the D&D manticore since the beginning -- the above image is from 2e, but the 1e version had the same tail. (I just didn't use it because it's not as clear in the picture.)

Now, scroll back up to that Ashmole Bestiary image. The one where the tail doesn't really look anything like a scorpion's. Looks... similar to this in broad concept.

I doubt that Gygax or Arneson or whoever designed that aspect of their manticore after one bestiary image, so I popped over to bestiary.ca to see what else was out there. Out of the 38 medieval manticore images collected on that website, there are only two with a tail covered in spikes: the Ashmole manticore and one other that's clearly just a less-skilled artist working from the same image (it also has the same hat). Looking at the text sources, though:

"...it has a tail like a land scorpion, in which there is a sting; it darts forth the spines with which it is covered instead of hair..." -- Aristotle, De animalibus

"To the end of its tail is attached the sting of a scorpion, and this might be over a cubit in length; and the tail has stings at intervals on either side." -- Aelianus, On the Characteristics of Animals

Okay, that's the D&D version, mystery solved. New question: is it a coincidence that the Ashmole illustration fits Aelianus's description? Remember, the page is missing from the Aberdeen bestiary and the Ashmole bestiary isn't translated. The text comes from Bodley MS 764, which does not have a spiky-tailed manticore. My Latin is terrible and I'm untrained in palaeography, so I can't tell whether the entry there preserves the spiky description.

If any palaeographers out there want to solve this one for me, it's Bodleian MS Ashmole 1511, f.22v-23r, available digitally here. (I'll put some screenshots below, but I expect it's easier to zoom properly on the library's digitized manuscript.)

Okay, that's all I've got. Enjoy your week everyone.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #mlekragg

[aroaceleovaldez]

yall dont wanna see the rant i just went on trying to math out if Clarisse and Silena = Achilles and Patroclus, then does the Battle for Manhattan in TLO = the Trojan War, and in which case who’s who. is the Titan Army the Trojans? or is Olympus the Trojans because they’re defending Olympus (i.e. Trojans defending Troy)? If Percy is also Achilles, kinda, cause curse of Achilles, what’s everybody’s roles then? What do we do with two Achilles? is Ethan Nakamura Hector? Does Luke = Paris? (in which case Hermes = Priam? which actually works really well cause Hermes did aid Priam in the Trojan war). or is Luke... Helen? Or is Luke just straight up the Trojan Horse?

Also side-tangent, if Clarisse and Silena are Achilles and Patroclus, we can make some guesses for who Chris Rodriguez vaguely is analogous to, but not really Charles Beckendorf? at least purely in terms of love interests. Which is interesting. Again: who’s who. I simply must know.

#pjo #percy jackson #riordanverse #analysis #there's also a whoooole lot of Percy and Nico in the Underworld = Caeneus in the rant #but that's besides the point i've gone on that rant enough times #though i do think its interesting in a manner of if it is an intentional parallel (which is very possibly is!) #then it implies that Rick started leaning more into Nico being canonically romantically interested in Percy back in TLO #which would make sense given you also have Clarisse and Silena as Achilles and Patroclus *very* explicitly in the same book #and whereas Achilles and Patroclus being lovers is a debated topic - Caeneus' romance is as far as im aware undisputed #(probably primarily because Caeneus was a woman for most of it) #and like from book one Rick referenced myths like Ganymede #so like. i dont think the whole ''greek mythology had a lot of gay stuff' was going over his head or anything #and Caeneus is not an obscure figure. he was an Argonaut! #and the Argonauts were. yknow. the entire basis for the second series. and also a good amount of SoM #there was also a lot of ''Does Nico = Orpheus?'' and How Many Times Did Nico Pull An Orpheus (the answer is like. 2. maybe 3.) #(maybe 4 actually) #regardless Nico has fully exhausted Most Orpheus Myths so theoretically they shouldn't come back. #[I AM LOOKING VERY HARD AT THE NICO BOOK. DO NOT DO THE THING I SWEAR I WILL BE MAD.] #not because ''oh no tragedy'' because i KNOW it's gonna turn out fine and Different This Time and ill just be mad #because it got overused cause WE'VE ALREADY DONE THAT SPECIFIC PART LIKE. TWICE. IN THE FIRST SERIES. GET OUTTA HERE. #anyways options for if the Argo 2 members represent Argonauts then Who Orpheus - Piper. Leo. Nico. #i personally prefer Piper best for thematic reasons but Leo could also fit and Nico is really trying on the myth-reenactment-front #and also being the mopey guy on the Argo ruining the vibes for everyone cause he's busy being heartbroken and emo #he hasn't been torn limb from limb and his immortal severed head turned into a speaker for his parents to listen to tunes from though #so really Nico are you even trying? (the ''parents-grant-immortality-after-death'' thing though is also a Nico-pulls-an-Orpheus moment tho)

[cryptotheism]

How do cards gain meaning in an occult sense? Like, both tarot and french-suited playing cards started as game pieces, but they have gained an understood meaning. Is it just someone whips up an organized table of connected ideas or is each card interpreted from a certain framework?

Oh good question!

Many things that we now consider staples of western magic are ideas that have been added to over generations by several layers of thinkers. Tarot Divination specifically is an excellent example of this!

In 1770, A french printmaker and occultist going by Etteilla published a book about how to do cartomancy with a 32-card Piquet deck. He writes down some simple but strict associations for the cards, and makes what is probably the first mention of reversals in carotmancy. He said that he learned the system "from an Italian." Now, its unclear how much of the system is his own invention, people have been doing cartomancy for as long as there's been cards, but the text presents a larval, bare-bones version of the cartomancy methods we know and love today.

Its 1780-ish. The Rosetta stone hasn't been discovered yet. Occult-inclined Europeans are obsessed with Egypt. That's where our boy Trismegistus is from! There's a concept in Egyptian mythology called The Book of Thoth, a mythical book of spells penned by the God of Knowledge himself. This was the Holy Grail for European Occult Egpytaboos.

In 1781, Antoine Court de Gébelin claimed that Tarot cards were the "original book of Thoth," Saying that Tarot cards had been used by ancient Egyptian priests for their own magical ceremonies, and that their designs contained ancient mystical secrets. This is 100% not true, but he writes a pretty fun pseudohistory for Tarot that involves Romani people bringing the decks to Europe through the Levant where they then taught its esoteric secrets to several Popes.

Then in 1783, Ettellia responded with another book. Manière de se récréer avec le jeu de cartes nommées tarots ("Way to recreate yourself with the deck of cards called tarots") Where Ettellia basically claims "uhm actually I knew about tarot divination way before Court de Gebelin published that big ass book. But anyway here's an interpretation of Tarot symbology that includes multiple references to Egyptian, Zoroastrian, and Greek mythology." But the smartest thing he did was include spread methods that involved Thoth and Numerology. Napoleonic Occultists fucking loved Thoth and numerology.

In 1788, he formed a little magical society for the express purpose of discussing and workshopping ideas for Tarot divination. In 1789, he made a TRULY smart decision, and published a Tarot deck that was Specifically For Magic, and that basically cemented Tarots place in magical history.

Occultists just kept iterating! Someone would speculate "maybe the suits correspond to the elements" and people went "yeah, they correspond to the elements! That makes this tool even more fun and interesting to use!" Then people go "What if the suits and the elements also correspond to parts of the Self?" and people went "Sure they do! That makes this tool even more interesting!"

But its also not just one thread. Eventually you get the Golden Dawn saying "The Major Arcana correspond to the nodes and paths on our version of the Quabbalistic Sefirot, you know, the hermetic version with a Q." and some occultists responded "Idk about that! Love what you've done with the color symbology though!"

The development of magical ideas is an iterative process. It is people whipping up a table of correspondences, but that table needs a mythology to keep it together. Originally, the mythology that gave tarot "power" was its Egyptian pseudohistory, but these days its the fact that occultists have been iterating on and fine-tuning this system for hundreds of years.

Humans don't think in tables of information, they think in stories. The cool thing about stories is that they're flexible. If magic is anything, its learning how to engineer stories to make the tables of information more effective.

I'm gonna plug my patreon where I post all of my occult research if you wanna see more stuff like this

#Tarot #Occult #I was supposed to edit today but I couldn't pass up this opportunity for a micro essay #cartomancy

[aphroditelovesu]

I love your greek mythology work! Do you have a headcanon for hermes please?

''You run as much as you want but I will always catch you.'' — Hermes.

❝ ⚚ — lady l: thank you very much, anon! Here are Hermes' hcs, I don't know why it took so long to do it but I finally wrote it and I hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes and good reading! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive behavior, manipulation, stalking, mention of death, Reader is put in a dangerous situation on purpose, toxic relationships.

❝⚚pairing: yandere!hermes x gender neutral!reader.

Hermes is a very playful and calm god in his obsession. He is not demanding and will not demand that you love him, he does not need your love. All he wants is for you to stay with him and let him adore you completely. Hermes doesn't really care about trying to control you, he prefers to let you roam free for his own interests. Just because he knows you will be his at the end of the day.

He is known for his carefree nature and his ability to adapt to different situations. He values freedom and autonomy, both for himself and others. That's why Hermes won't try to restrict you or force you to stay with him. He wants you to choose him willingly and he knows you will.

Hermes would value your freedom, but at the same time he would subtly manipulate circumstances to ensure that you were always close to him. He would use his ability to travel quickly to appear in the most unexpected places, always keeping a close eye on his darling. You could never escape the god's gaze.

There is no one for you but him, Hermes knows that. He is a god, after all, and he knows you will be his. There's no way you can't be, everything is calculatedly planned so that he gets you in the end. And you will accept everything because it is your place next to him.

Hermes is a stalker, however. He likes to chase and will always be wherever you are, just in disguise. You will never notice the eyes of the god of messengers upon you, shining with what appears to be hidden amusement. The god could use his ability to travel quickly to monitor and control his darling, and his communication skills to maintain constant contact, sometimes in an intimidating manner.

He would not be the controlling type in the traditional sense of a god, but rather a constant observer, always present in your surroundings, discreetly accompanying you in all your activities. His ability to adapt to different situations would make him a master at hiding his true intentions, while maintaining a façade of lightness and friendliness.

Hermes would not necessarily be aggressive, but his constant presence and obsessive desire for his beloved could create an atmosphere of discomfort and insecurity. He could use his communication skills to maintain constant contact, sending messages and gifts in a seemingly innocent manner but with an underlying aura of intimidation.

His gifts and gifts may seem harmless at first, but Hermes wants to make it clear that he will not tolerate being ignored or left in the background. Expensive and magnificent gifts can become body parts of people close to you. He doesn't want to scare you, but he has limited patience.

He's not exactly possessive or jealous because Hermes knows he's the only one for you. The god sees no reason to be jealous when he knows you belong to him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get jealous. Hermes feels jealous in a very subtle way and you will hardly notice it unless you are very observant.

Hermes would be a master of subtle manipulation, never appearing threatening at first glance, but always ingeniously orchestrating circumstances to keep you close to him. He can put you in dangerous and desperate situations so that he can save you, acting as your hero and savior, without you knowing that it was really his fault.

He would use his communication skills to stay in constant contact, flooding you with messages and calls, creating an underlying aura of intimidation. His communication methods can range from playful to threatening, depending on his mood and your response. Hermes may have a controlled temper, but he can become easily angered if he doesn't get what he wants. And he wants you.

Hermes would love to travel with you, he would take you anywhere you wanted, be it the human world or the gods and mythological creatures, he would take you wherever you wanted in the blink of an eye. Seeing your smile when you visit a place he's always wanted to is the best gift he could ask for.

The god is a born stalker and a master at manipulating you in subtle ways, but he is not overwhelming or possessive. All he wants is you, to have you and if you run, he will catch you. You are his in every sense of the word. Hermes will take good care of you, don't worry, once he has you attached to him, he will make sure you are happy and satisfied with life by his side. It's not like you have a choice.

#greek gods x reader #greek gods #greek mythology #yandere greek gods #yandere greek mythology #yandere greek gods x reader #yandere hermes #yandere hermes x reader #hermes x reader #yandere hermes headcanons #headcanons #yandere headcanons #yandere au

[unbidden-yidden]

In Judaism, one alternative way of referring to converts is "Jews by Choice."

If a parallel term exists in Xtianity I am not aware of it, but I would like to propose that it really should exist, albeit not just in reference to converts but to all Xtians. Every Xtian should get the opportunity to fully understand their faith in context and to make an informed decision to choose it for themselves. As it stands, many Xtians are deeply ignorant about Jewish history (before and after the formation of Xtianity), the original cultural context for the stories in the Old Testament, the cultural Jewish context that Jesus existed and taught in, the critical historical (scholarly) read of these texts, what they probably meant to the Israelites who produced them, and what they mean to Jews today and how we read these same texts differently in our religious context.

This creates a problem, where Xtians are taught only the narrow band of context that their church deems it important for them to know, and even that is frequently inaccurate or so limited in scope as to make it inaccurate by omission.

And this is because the reality is that the Tanakh (that is, the Hebrew and Aramaic scriptures that the Old Testament is based on) does not naturally or inevitably lead to the Jesus narrative. If you are starting from a Xtian perspective, and especially if you read the New Testament first and then and only then dive into the Old Testament, the Jesus narrative is obvious to you because you are looking for it, expect to see it there, and are coming at these texts with that reading lens in mind. And it's not that you or anyone else is nuts to see that narrative there - there are plenty of solid Xtian reads of these texts that make sense if you already believe in Jesus as presented by the New Testament.

But what the vast majority of Xtians aren't taught is how to approach the Tanakh from a Jesus-neutral perspective, which would yield very different results.

Now you might fairly ask, why would they *need* to approach the Tanakh with a Jesus-neutral perspective? They're Xtians! Xtians believe in Jesus, that's what makes them Xtians!

My answer is multi-pronged: First, I believe that G-d wants a relationship with all people, and speaks to us in the voice we are most likely to hear. That's inherently going to look different for everyone. And that's okay! G-d is infinite, and each of our relationships with G-d are going to only capture the tiniest glimpse into that infinite Divine. Therefore, second, when approaching religion, everyone sees what they want to see. If you nothing religion but find your spirituality in nature, you're going to come at these biblical texts with that lens and take away from them similar things that one might take away from other cultural mythologies. If you, like me, are coming at these texts with a Jewish mindset, you are going to come away with a portrait of Hashem and our covenantal relationship as Am Yisrael. And, of course, if you read with a Xtian lens, you're going to see the precursor narratives leading up to Jesus. That reading bias is not only understandable but good or at least deeply human. Everyone sees what they want to see in these texts. There is no objective or flawless way to read them, and to claim that there is, is to claim that not only is there only one answer, but only one kind of relationship that G-d wants to have with people, that you personally happen to know what that is, and that everyone else is wrong. I am sorry, but if you believe that - if you truly think that you in particular (and/or the people you happen to agree with) know the mind of G-d, then you do not worship G-d. You worship yourselves, because to know the entirety of G-d would require you to be G-d. There's a term for that. That doesn't mean there aren't wrong answers too. But it does mean that there is no singular unimpeachable reading of the texts. What you see in these texts then, says far more about you than it does about the texts themselves or G-d.

So the question then becomes: Why do you want to see this? (Whatever your "this" is.) If your read of these texts is something you choose, why do you choose to see what you see? And is it a meaningful choice if you are not taught other ways of knowing, other perspectives on these texts, and to think critically while exploring them?

Judaism inherently teaches a multiplicity of opinions on the texts, and maintains that they can be read to mean different things, even at the same time by the same person. Deep textual knowledge and methods for learning more, asking questions, challenging accepted answers as a way to discover new meaning, and respectful disagreement are baked into our culture and methods. Some Xtians of some denominations have analogous processes, although on the whole still emphasize correct unified belief over correct action with a multiplicity of belief. I am not suggesting here that Xtians stop approaching their own scriptures as Xtians or adopt Jewish methods instead. What I am suggesting is that Xtians should be taught a fuller picture of these texts and learn other perspectives so that they (1) understand their own beliefs and why they believe them (or after further inquiry if they believe them), and (2) understand and respect that this is what they are choosing to believe and that it is not the only thing one could reasonably believe. Because (3) if not, they are more susceptible to having their faith shattered at random by something unexpected, and will connect less to their faith as a relationship with G-d and more as an obligation based on an unchallenged world view.

And, frankly? (4) It will help them to be better neighbors, to love their neighbor as themselves, and to give to others the respect that they would like to receive.

Being taught the historical context, Jewish history before and after Jesus, the differences between the Old Testament and the Tanakh, the timeline of the development of Xtianity in relationship to rabbinic Judaism in the wake of the destruction of the Second Temple, the development of church doctrine and the various splits amongst the denominations, and Jewish readings of the Tanakh would give clarity and desperately needed context to Xtians about their religion. Is there some risk that some people, upon understanding these things would drop out of faith entirely or, like me, discover that they are actually meant to be Jews? Yes, definitely.

But let me let you in on a little secret: you don't want those people to begin with. You really don't. Because the reality is that if a person is not called to relate to G-d through Jesus, eventually that person will learn this about themselves one way or another. If they are given the information and tools to make a meaningful choice, they will part company on good terms. If not, they will likely become disillusioned and leave the church in pain, anger, and even trauma. They will bring that out into the world with them, and spread the bad news about the Good News making it even more likely that other people who were already on the fence will jump ship on bad terms. You cannot trick people into a meaningful relationship with G-d. You can only give them the tools they need in order to explore on their own and the rest is between them and G-d.

And the bottom line is that you don't need to and should not be afraid of knowledge. If your faith cannot stand up to scrutiny, then it deserves that scrutiny tenfold. The people you lose from the flock? You would have lost them anyway, because we aren't in the driver's seat here. G-d is. Hashem called me to be a Jew with just as much love and desire to connect as G-d calls Xtians to the church and to Jesus. A faith examined is a faith deepened or exposed in its weakness. And if it is the latter, don't you want people to know this sooner rather than later in order to fix it?

So my proposition and wish for Xtians is that they become Xtians by Choice. That they delve deeply into the origins and context of their faith so that they can be 100% certain that they understand their Xtian faith and why they choose to relate to G-d through that lens.

#every hour is theology hour around here apparently #interfaith #this is tochecha from an ex-Xtian ger #who desperately wants for my Xtian family friends and neighbors the level of peace and security in their faith that I now enjoy #the church is not doing its congregation any favors by under-educating them on these matters #Xtians deserve better and should demand better from the church #xtianity #anyway if I have any Xtian followers here who would like book suggestions lemme know

[bobbile-blog]

Okay so I've finally gotten to Jessicalter's Oprec and now feel qualified to talk about Come Catastrophes or Wakes of Vultures. holy shit. This went straight into my list of top Arknights events. Fantastic event, spoilers will be under the cut so I HIGHLY RECOMMEND reading the event first. It's really good and worth your while.

Anyway, what follows is a scattered mess of thoughts about this event and things that stuck out to me.

First off, plot stuff! I'll probably cover this when I do my next plotline recap post, but what I took away from the end is that Clip Cliff seems to want to make Blacksteel independent, or at least more self-determining than it is now. He seems to be gathering resources and assets like mobile city plates and investing in long-term infrastructure like merc training, so he definitely has a long game he's pushing for. I don't think we know enough go speculate about his goals, but we'll definitely be coming back here again. After all, Tila has an infection monitor in her art, which probably means she's going to be playable at some point in the future.

Next, having looked into this a little on my own, I was interested in some of the previous places Raythean has shown up. Specifically, the ones that stood out were the drones in the Kazimierz Major and arming Silverash's forces in Kjerag, which might be referring to the Tschäggättä. It's not just notable for their apparent level of technology, but also as a faint connecting thread between three separate capitalism plotlines. I don't know if that's going to be meaningful in the future, but I found it interesting enough that I thought I'd bring it up.

Now on to more narrative things. While I love Liskarm and Franka, I do think it was the right choice to give them less screen time in this event. They're both (for the most part) fully-realized characters who understand their own motivations and morals. This is above all else an event about Jessica learning to stand on her own as an adult, so it makes sense that they're more here to support her than they are to play their own roles in the story.

Speaking of said roles, I liked the event's commentary on cops. It pointed out an interesting distinction that I wouldn't really have ever thought of, that between mercenaries and cops. To start: cops exist to protect property, not people. The police exist to protect things and do not have an obligation to err on the side of people over things, and in fact are supposed to do the opposite. This event understands that, and that role os the core of how the bank treats the Blacksteel mercs. CV, however, raises an interesting point that mercenaries are bound by the letter of a contract and not the larger obligation to property cops are, so they can actually raise moral objections and point to their contracts, sort of a Lawful Evil/Lawful Neutral to cops' Neutral Evil. The independence of their position with respect to cops allows for more of an independent morality than you'd get in a cop story and I like that, I think it's a really smart direction to take your writing in.

On a (mostly) separate note, holy shit Arknights is really good at writing cowboy stories. Between this and chapter 9 (and I would argue An Obscure Wanderer), Arknights has repeatedly made it clear that they Do Not Fuck Around with their cowboy stories and I'm surprised I haven't heard more people talking about it. It kinda has everything:

- It takes place in a rural, working-class setting undergoing a larger imminent societal shift that can inform the larger narrative, and deals with a semi-mythologized past that is rapidly disappearing.

- It has a protagonist and an antagonist that serve as foils, both very heavily affected and defined by the (same) violence in their past that they've both had different reactions to. Our protagonist has come to terms with the violence as a tool to maintain order, while our antagonist has used it for personal gain and in some ways lost control of it.

- It's a story about community, and heavily emphasizes local and personal community over larger artificial corporate "community". That's my reading of the recurring motif of the cold btw, warmth represents the close, personal community Davistown used to have and the cold that now pervades it comes from how the bank has systematically dismantled that community.

- And, I'd argue most importantly, it understands the narrative power of a bullet. The Showdown at the end of a cowboy story is powerful because we've spent the entire runtime of our story with these characters, and they are now facing each other down with the intent to end one of their collective two stories. The entire weight of the narrative so far comes to rest on a single moment of tension. It's really hard to gather up the kind of narrative momentum you need to make that hit like it does in CV. For example, it requires a really light hand with actual action in the story, so that it really does feel like it's an even standoff between our protagonist and antagonist. On the other hand, though, you do actually have to establish the relative skill of both parties and actually sell the danger of the moment to the audience. It's really hard to toe the line between tension and actual action in a way that makes for a satisfying resolution, and CV does it extremely well.

Honestly, Arknights just seems really good at getting the vibes of American media right. This is something I noticed in DV and Lonetrail too, and I haven't really been able to put my finger on what it is about them, but the vibes are just really on-point. I want to write more about this at a later point once I actually figure out what it is that I'm feeling, but maybe it's the setting, maybe it's the cast, maybe it's the plot points, maybe it's something in between — it just seems to understand the spirit of period cowboy stories in a way that I can't describe. Good shit.

Finally, I wanna end this with where Jessica is now. The events of CV take place In between the events of Loneterail and Ideal City, so the current "now" of the story is a few months ahead. Jessica left for the frontier along with Woody, Helena, and Miles. They live together in a small new settlement, building the place from the ground up with Woody and Jessica acting as town sherrifs. At the point we're at now, rhe town is fairly well-established and Woody has temporarily left on other business, leaving Jessica the sole sherrif of their new settlement. However, she's risen to her new station, and is growing into a stronger person than she ever was before.

#arknights #come catastrophes or wakes of vultures #jessica the liberated #Arknights thoughts

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-Lee Minho

No one says 'no' to a God. That's what you've always been taught. But maybe, no one's just ever really had the chance. or A retelling of Poseidon and Amphitrite, if it were a little bit more modern and a lot more geared toward those of us who are total sluts for enemies to lovers. This one's for you, babe.

Tags: Skz, Stray Kids, Stay, Lee Minho, Minho, SKZ au, skz as greek gods series, lee know, minho x you, minho x reader, greek mythology, modern greek au, skz fluff, skz smut, skz angst, skz fic, skz fanfic, skz x you, skz x reader, femreader, y/n, enemies to lovers, greek gods, Poseidon

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Light Smut

Warnings: Exhibitionism, Spit as Lube, Virginal Sex

Soundtrack:

🌊 Euclid by Sleep Token 🐚 Bad Habits by Nerv

Title: Wave After Wave

"Oh my gods, he's literally the hottest man I've ever seen."

You glance up from gathering wood for the celebratory bonfire at your sister's uttered words, and follow her gaze to the man reclined by the roaring fire next to your father.

You can't quite make out his features from here-they're made wavy and indistinct by the heat of the flames-but you know he's handsome, incredibly so.

Why wouldn't he be? He's one of the fucking Big Three after all.

You say as much, scoffing under your breath with a slight smile in your besotted sister's direction.

"He's one of the major Gods, Thetis. Of course he's going to be incredibly good looking. They've been made to appeal to every single one of the five senses." You hit her ass with one of the sticks you carry, and she gives you a little glare with a pout of her lips. Your voice turns teasing. "You're no better around him than a pitiful human, weak for his charms and falling right into his traps."

She crosses her arms over her ample bosom and pouts some more, even as you shove some of the gathered wood into her waiting arms. "Well, can you blame me? We only ever see sailors here, or the minor gods, if we're lucky. But one of the Big Three?" She huffs, following after you, trying to balance the bundle of sticks as she hurries to catch up. She's slightly out of breath when she says under her breath to you, her eyes flickering back to the man beside your father once more, "And I would argue he's the best looking out of all the Big Three."

You shoot her a sharp look. "Don't let anyone hear you say that, Thetis. Father will have you punished for blasphemy."

"You cannot punish me for saying the truth." She rolls her big blue eyes, lined with long, dark lashes, and flips her blonde braid over her shoulder. Her round cherubic cheeks are pink from exertion, her red lips pursed into a perfect pout.

You'd be shocked if your father didn't do his damndest to secure Thetis the God's hand before he leaves here tonight.

You set your logs down beside the fire and catch your breath, brushing the bark from the front of your finely made dress as you glance at your younger sister once more.

"You'd better go and charm the man then, because I'm fairly certain Glauce has already staked her claim." You motion with your head to your sister, who is practically in the God's lap, her long dark hair twined around her fingers as she leans over to playfully whisper something in his ear, the seashells around her neck dipping between her bare breasts.

Thetis's eyes narrow and she pushes past you with a huff. "We'll see about that."

You watch her go with slight amusement, content to enjoy the games of tonight from afar.

You've never been interested in the Gods like your sisters, nor marriage, and you have every intention of living your life out on Naxos, dancing and remaining free for the eons.

Being tied down as a Big Three's wife, constantly scrutinized and judged, cheated on with mortals?

No fucking thank you.

You adjust one of the ornamental pins in your hair with a sigh, trying to stop it from digging into your scalp, and wish for the thousandth time that you could let your hair down.

The breeze off the sea is calling your name, and you itch to pull off this ornamental gown and untie your hair and dive into its welcoming, azure depths.

You crave the silence the deep brings.

"Daughter."

You turn at the sound of your father's call and see him approaching, his hands tucked behind his back.

You give a brief duck of your head in deference as he walks toward you, a dip of the knee to show your respect.

"Father."

He places a finger beneath your chin, guiding you back to your feet. "Rise, child. I have something I wish to discuss with you."

You wait patiently for him to continue, your gaze holding his. The breeze tugs at your skirt, twisting it around your legs, as if it's a silent invitation to follow it into the embrace of the sea.

Your father's lips lift into the hint of a smile as he strokes his hand down your cheek. "My beautiful eldest, the coveted rare pearl that adorns my crown. I always said you would be a blessing from the Gods, and I was right."

You cock your head, nodding slightly. "Thank you, father. I hope I have made you proud."

"You have, my child. You have." Your father sighs, and his eyes soften slightly as he takes you in. "As have your sisters." He glances out at the sea, his eyes following the rise and fall of the waves for a moment.

Finally, he says, "He has made a decision."

You watch him-the way his brow furrows in thought, the way his dark eyes reflect the blue of the sea-and then you reply back confidently with another duck of your head, "Thetis will make an excellent wife for him and a stunning Goddess of the Seas."

Your father meets your gaze once more, and there's something there now that unsettles you, his lips curving down seriously, his expression somber.

"It is not Thetis who has been chosen."

You stare at him, confused. "Who then? Glauce? Maera?"

You cannot imagine one of your younger vapid, vain sisters ever catching the God's attention, but stranger things have happened.

Something sad flickers across your father's face, and he reaches for your hand.

Your stomach drops at the expression.

"He has chosen you."

You feel as if you've just been barreled by the waves, thrown beneath the surface, crashed helpless over and over again against the sharp, jutting cliffs.

You can't seem to catch your breath.

You're drowning.

"What?"

Your father gives you a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Poseidon has chosen you."

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Minho watches you for a moment before making his presence known, his body hidden in the shadow of the column.

This is one of his favorite versions of you-sitting beside the sea, your feet buried in the sand, your dress wet as it clings to your curves, hair down and free, tangled slightly from the salt water.

He likes to imagine this is how you looked as a child, roaming the beaches of Naxos, causing mischief, dancing barefoot into the night.

Now, you are his queen, and yet, he still sees that untameable girl in you, even till this day.

You laugh out loud and splash salt water back at one of the dolphins as it breaches near the shore, showering you with a wave of the sea, and Minho's mouth curves into an unbidden smile as he steps out from behind the pillar.

He approaches you quietly, content to watch you admire the dolphins as they breach and play, fins the color of smoke cutting through the turquoise water like butter on a warm day.

He'd known, the moment he had the mansion built, that the secret cove beneath that let him have free access to his beloved sand and sea would quickly become his favorite place to spend the time.

As soon as he'd met you, he'd known it would be your favored place of refuge as well.

You were similar in that, escaping to the sea when everything became a little bit too much.

You glance up as he approaches, giving him a smile that almost blinds him, and not for the first time, Minho can't quite believe that something so beautiful, so perfect, belongs to him.

He is much like the sea-turbulent and fickle, intimidating and dark, dangerous when provoked-and you have been the only one in eons of years that has dared swim below his surface to explore the depths beneath.

He finds himself grateful for that every single day.

He sits down in the sand behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you back against him. The salt water on your dress dampens his pants, but he can't bring himself to care, burying his nose in your hair that smells of sea and sand and sun, running his lips along the curve of your neck just to taste the salt on his tongue.

You give a little hum of approval at his touch and lean into him, and Minho chuckles.

Glancing out at the dolphins playing in the waves, Minho's lips pull up into an amused curve.

"And what have you taught your little pets today, sweetheart?"

You lean your head back against his shoulder and he admires the way your nose crinkles as you give him a teasing smile, arching a brow.

He lets a finger trace down your throat, playing with the seashell strands you wear around your neck, his cock immediately paying attention to the way they disappear between the valley of your breasts, your skin sparkling with the sea.

"Oh, you'll love this one." You chirp back, standing up as you wave to get the dolphins attention. You glance over your shoulder at him, grin turning wicked. "I've taught them to flip you off."

You raise your hand, and a few of the dolphins immediately use their tails to propel them above the waves, their sleek bodies upright as they wave their fins in tandem back at you.

Minho chuckles, standing up, his arms going around your waist once more, as he leans in to murmur against your ear, "I don't think your trick is quite as impressive as you think. They lack fingers."

You give a little shrug, and lean back against him, and there it is again, that devastating smile that leaves Minho feeling like he can't breathe, like he's just gone beneath the waves and can't resurface.

"Well, you have to use your imagination a little bit." You whisper back, expression cheeky, as you tilt your head to be able to kiss the line of his jaw.

"Oh?" Minho remarks in bemusement, his brow inching upward as he looks down at you in his arms. He takes a fingertip and traces slowly down the column of your throat, the skin he leaves in his wake shining with conjured droplets of sea water, shimmering in the afternoon sun. "I can think of a lot more things I'd rather use my imagination for right now, sweetheart."

He lets his finger dip between your breasts, and he doesn't miss the way you shiver at his touch.

His lips curve into the start of a smirk.

"Like imagining you out of all these clothes."

You pull out of his arms and turn to face him, walking backward slowly so that your feet disappear into the frothing waves of the sea, your gaze never leaving his.

Something mischievous comes across your features as you stare at him, standing knee deep in the water, your dress like a living creature wrapped around your legs, the dolphins frolicking against the sunset.

"That can be arranged." You tease him, arching a brow, as you slowly slide the dress down one of your shoulders, revealing a swath of perfect skin.

And without another word, Minho leaves the shore behind and joins you in the waves.

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It's clear that though he may have chosen you, he doesn't like you.

Not in the slightest.

The man can't even look at you as you pull up to the mansion bordering the sea, and you're grateful-not for the first time during the drive-that he'd left the Stingray's old fashioned top down so that instead of focusing on the oppressive silence between the two of you, you could hear nothing but the wind whipping in your ears, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

The hum of the car purrs to a stop as he parks in some sort of underground garage cut into the seaside cliffs, and you're not certain whether you should let yourself out or wait for his move.

He doesn't look at you, or seem in a hurry to leave the car, so you remain still, your hands folded in your lap, your eyes ahead.

Fuck, this is awkward.

What does one say to an all powerful God that has just taken them-unwillingly, you might add-from the only home and family they've ever known?

Fuck if you know.

You clear your throat, and decide that if he won't break the silence, you will.

"If I may-" You start to say, startled to a stop when he gets out of the car abruptly, not even bothering to look in your direction as he stands.

"You'll be shown to your room. You'll be expected for dinner every evening at 8 sharp. It's on the veranda overlooking the sea, your maid will show you where. Feel free to go where you will, just don't go alone."

It's like he's talking to the wall, his hand on the open door, his eyes on anything else but you.

You feel the anger from earlier bubble upward into your throat as you regard his obvious disdain.

You reach for your own doorhandle.

"You've brought me all the way from Naxos, and I know no one here. Certainly you're not just going to leave me alone on our first night together-"

"I have work to do." He says coldly, cutting you off, and without another glance, shuts his door, before stalking off toward the stairs that must lead up into the mansion above.

You stare after his retreating form in shock for a moment, before you growl beneath your breath and get out of the car, moving to open the trunk where your luggage is stowed.

"Fine." You hiss beneath your breath. "I'll see myself to my room then."

And in that very moment, you decide you will ask the Great God Poseidon, one of the Big Three, for nothing so long as you both shall live.

It's going to be one long fucking eternity.

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He doesn't like it.

He doesn't like how you make him feel unsettled, as if every inch of control he's ever struggled to gain in his own damned, immortal existence is thrown out the window as soon as you walk into the room.

He's had to claw his way here, to where he is now, in charge of his own life, in charge of his own sea, and he doesn't intend to lose that, not now or not ever, and definitely not because of a pair of fucking beautiful doe eyes.

He'd known it as soon as he saw you-dancing with your sisters on your father's little island-that he was never going to escape your grasp.

You hadn't even looked at him, for gods' sake, hadn't even given him a moment of your attention, and he was instantly bewitched.

And Minho did not bewitch easily.

And now, here you were, in his house, in his domain, soon to be in his bed, and he was absolutely fucking terrified of what that meant.

You were his, and he didn't know if he could fucking handle that.

"Fuck." He swears beneath his breath, running his hands through his hair in an agitated motion, his elbows resting on his knees as he sits, collapsed in the sand.

The night is muggy, the warm air heavy with the saltiness of sea water, and he stares at the dark crests of the waves, rising and falling like a giant being breathing peacefully in slumber.

His fingers find a shell in the sand next to him, and he hurls it into the waves, watching as it disappears beneath the surface in a ring of ripples.

The water is reflecting the stars of the night sky back to him on its surface, and it feels as if he's sitting in the middle of a constellation, but his head is no clearer than when he first left the mansion for the cove beneath.

His mind wanders to you-are you settling in for the night? Your perfect skin sliding between the silk of the sheets as you curl up in the middle of the large bed, alone?

He wonders, briefly, what your hair looks like when it's not ornamentally pinned, what you wear when you sleep, how your face looks crinkled and barely awake in the morning.

He wonders how it would feel to hear you say his name-not his name gifted by the mortals, but his given name-in a murmur against his skin, your perfect breasts free from the sheer material of your dress, your hands, or gods forbid, your lips, on his aching cock-

"Fuck." He swears again, more vehemently this time, and falls back against the cool sand, staring at the jagged rocks overhead.

He can't lose his cool every time he sees you, he's worked too damn hard to get where he's at, and he's a fucking god for hell's sake. He needs to pull it together and stop thinking with his dick.

It's going to be one long fucking eternity.

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"You know-" You remark offhandedly as you glance out over the sea, red from the setting sun. You can smell the salt in the air, courtesy of the Stingray's open top, and the warm air whips your hair as Minho speeds along the deserted oceanside highway.

Minho glances over at you, a slight curve of amusement to his lips, a silent signal for you to go on, as he maneuvers the sports car around a curve.

You let your fingers float outside the open window, weaving along in the breeze like a dolphin skimming and jumping through the waves.

"-I hear skinny dipping is even better at night."

Minho chuckles, the sound low beneath the rush of the wind. "Oh? Who told you that?"

You shrug, biting back a smile, as you admire the way the nail polish glints on your fingers in the rosy tint of the sun, the flash of the pearl on your ring finger.

"A little fish."

Minho gives you another amused look, but it's clearly exasperated, his brow arching. "You're not getting out of this party, you know."

You sigh and let your head fall back against the seat.

"Well fuck."

Minho chuckles again, and reaches over with his free hand to rest the warmth of his palm on your thigh, his other hand easily maneuvering the car through the twists and turns of the road.

He gives your thigh a little squeeze, and you glance down at his hand-the tan, smooth skin, the rise and fall of his knuckles, the perfectly trimmed nails.

Your eyes flick to his other hand on the wheel-the golden glint of his wedding band contrasting the strip of inlaid pearl that matches your own.

Your skin heats underneath his touch, even though the fabric of your dress acts as a barrier.

It's a thin, flimsy barrier at most.

"I promised Hyunjin we'd be there." Minho sighs regretfully, and you know he's dreading this soiree just as much as you are, even more so. "But I swear to you, sweetheart, after this, no more parties for another decade."

You give a little laugh and squeeze his hand. "I'm going to hold you to that, your highness."

Minho smiles, his gaze moving down to your hand resting over his own. His eyes catch on the wedding ring you wear, and he raises your hand to his lips, brushing a light, lingering kiss across your knuckles.

"I know you will."

Your gaze drifts back longingly to the sea, fingers still encased in the warmth of his own.

Minho gives your thigh another squeeze, and when you turn to look at him once more, he gives you a dangerous smirk, perfect teeth flashing and dark eyes glinting.

"However, skinny dipping is never off the table, sweetheart. So trust me when I say I'll be holding you to that too."

You grin back at him.

"I would expect nothing less from the God of the Seas."

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Dinners with Minho are unbearable.

You spend the majority of your time on the veranda watching the waves crest in watercolor beneath the setting sun, the sleek, almost apparition like forms of the dolphins darting in and out of the frothing foam.

He never talks, and you never ask.

It's easier to eat in silence and excuse yourself to your room for the rest of the night while your new husband disappears gods knows where to do gods knows what.

Tonight, the dolphins are especially playful, leaping and chittering to each other, and you find yourself watching them longingly, wishing you could be as free as they seem to be, bound to no one and nothing.

The sound of a fork scraping obnoxiously across a plate draws your attention back to the table, and Minho is watching you, his expression unreadable, fork held loosely in his hand, his empty plate before him.

You hold his gaze, refusing to back down, as you set your own fork down next to your barely touched food.

His features remain blank as he wipes his mouth with the linen of his napkin, the maid scurrying in to quickly clear his empty place.

You've never noticed, but his eyes are dark-dark and stormy like the sea at night-and they're uncharacteristically cold, no warmth lurking in their depths.

"Do you like them?" He asks suddenly, voice flat, almost uninterested, as he waves away another servant approaching with more wine in a decanter.

You stare at him, schooling your expression. "Like what?"

You know you're addressing him casually, you should watch yourself-he's your husband and a god-but you can't seem to bring yourself to care in the face of his aloofness.

He won't give you anything, so you won't give him anything either.

He lets his gaze scan your face, giving nothing away, then motions with a glance toward the sea below.

"The dolphins."

You give a little shrug and glance down at your food, scraping it around your plate. You have no appetite suddenly, not when you can feel Minho's gaze boring into your skull.

"They're beautiful. The freedom and joy they possess intrigues me."

"Then you can have them."

You jerk your gaze back up to his in surprise, your mouth dropping slightly open, but he's already pushed back from the table, no longer looking at you, as he motions for one of the maids to begin to clear the table.

"I have work to do. You may retire when you are ready." His voice is emotionless, and he doesn't spare you another glance, as he turns and strides away.

You watch him go, anger beginning to bubble in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth tastes of bile.

'Then you can have them.'

He thinks he can just give living creatures to another just like that? Like they're property? Like they're his to own? Like they do not already belong to the sea?

Fuck him.

You push back from the table angrily and fling your napkin on the ground.

If he thinks he can give and take that which is not his, was never his, so easily, then you'd like to see him try.

You are not so easily tamed.

And it was time he knew.

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"I've never seen him this happy."

You hide a smile behind the rim of your glass as you take a sip of your drink, following Hera's gaze to Minho where he stands across the room, discussing something with his brothers.

He looks fucking delicious tonight-dressed smartly in a navy three piece suit, his thick, dark hair smoothed back, his sun kissed skin golden beneath the lights.

Maybe these parties aren't a complete waste of time after all.

"What can I say?" You muse as you let your gaze fall back to Hera beside you, a smile gracing your lips now. "I'm good for him."

She gives a little tinkling laugh, raising her glass to meet your own with a gentle clink of cheers.

"I'll drink to that."

You take another long sip of your drink, and when you look up once more, Minho's gaze catches your own from across the room.

You arch a brow in response and mouth silently to him, already knowing the answer, Having fun?

He gives a slight shake of his head with a roll of his eyes, and you grin.

He holds your gaze, and with a miniscule movement, tilts his head to the side, his eyebrows raising in a silent question, as a smirk curves his lips.

You turn to Hera, setting your now empty glass down beside hers on the table, and touching her arm lightly to draw her attention.

"I'm going to use the little goddesses room."

She nods, turning back to her conversation with Aphrodite, and you excuse yourself from the room, noting that Minho's already managed to slip away from his own conversation on the other side of the room.

He's nowhere in sight.

The sounds of the party fade away as you slip out of the gaudy ballroom and make your way down the quiet hallway.

You're just passing the large, glass doors that look outside onto the darkened veranda and sprawling garden, when he finds you, coming out from the shadows and startling you slightly, his hands going on either side of your head as he traps you against the wall.

"Jesus, Min." You breathe out, your muscles relaxing, as you try your best to glare up at him. "Give a girl some warning."

His teeth flash as he grins in response, the expression dangerous, his dark eyes meeting yours in a predatory fashion.

"Where's the fun in that?" He murmurs back, as he lifts a hand to play with a strand of your hair, his fingers brushing over the seashell comb you wear. "I like when your hair is down."

You tilt your head back against the wall and look up at him, a smirk flickering across your lips. "Should've thought of that before you RSVPed us to this stupid party." You tease in a low voice.

Minho lets out a sigh. "Yeah well, I have duties and so do you, but right now-" His eyes darken, his body pressing into yours, flattening you against the wall at your back. "-right now it's just you and I, sweetheart."

"And about a hundred other people just in the other room." You retort back, reaching up to straighten the shell broach pinned to his suit jacket.

"Fuck them." Minho growls, leaning forward to run his nose up your throat, and you tilt your head back to give him better access as he begins to suck kisses into the skin beneath your jaw. "They can miss us for a couple of minutes."

"Speaking of hair-" You breathe out, as he continues to litter your skin methodically with love bites, his teeth making your skin tingle and your breath catch.

You reach up and run your fingers through his dark tresses, loosening the gel and mussing the strands until they fall around his face. You let salt water coat your fingertips, dampening your skin and wetting his hair until it looks as if he's just been for a swim.

"-I like yours best when it's wet."

Minho pulls back to smirk at you, his brow arched, his eyes dark.

"I like you best when you're wet, sweetheart. Especially for me."

You hold his gaze, his words sending fire like heat skittering across every inch of your skin.

"Well, then you're going to love what you find between my thighs."

"Oh?" Minho's smirk grows, his pupils blowing at your words. He leans into your space, pressing you back against the wall once more, his knee going between your legs to nudge them apart. "Show me then."

You hold his gaze, reaching down to lift your dress to give him access. His eyes never leave yours as he leans forward, and slides a hand between your upper thighs.

You let out a stuttered gasp when he touches you, and you can feel the way you instantly coat his fingers, and it crosses your mind that maybe you should be embarrassed at how worked up he's already gotten you without even touching you, but you can't be, not when Minho pulls his fingers back and studies the shiny, sticky skin like it's one of the seven wonders of the mortals' modern world.

"Beautiful." He murmurs beneath his breath, still watching the way your slick slides down his fingers as if entranced.

You admire him for a moment, admiring you, and then your lips curve upward into the start of an amused smile.

"I suppose I do not need to mention the irony of a Sea God being obsessed with fluids?"

Minho's dark eyes flick to you, his fingers still raised. He arches a brow.

"You do not." He replies back pointedly, and then, holding your gaze, bends his middle finger so that he can dip it between his lips, licking it clean of your juices with even, long strokes of his tongue.

You clench your thighs together, suddenly in desperate need of friction as you watch him slowly, methodically clean his fingers, all the while, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Although-" He muses, pinning you beneath his heated gaze, his lips curving up into the hint of a smirk as he sees the flush of your cheeks, the subtle movements of your legs. "-if given the choice, I would choose you over the sea any day."

You shake your head teasingly, as he backs you up a few steps further down the hallway, away from the party in the ballroom, stalking you like a big cat, his movements lithe and fluid.

"That's shocking, coming from you."

"It's true though." He insists in a low tone, before he cages you in once more, his hands coming down forcefully on either side of your head, making you jump. "Every word of it."

Without warning, he slides his hands down your body and palms your ass before he lifts you up, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs.

You give a little yelp, and cling to him, your arms going around his neck for support.

He looks up at you, his eyes the color of the sea before a storm, and the sudden hungry look on his sharp features makes you shiver.

"Now. Be a good girl, sweetheart, and let me feel how wet you are for me from the inside."

He pushes your skirts aside, and hefts you a little higher into his arms.

You gasp when you realize for the first time as he shifts you, that your back is no longer pressed against the solidarity of the wall, no, your back is pressed against the cold pane of a window-the French doors to the garden.

"Minho." You hiss, struggling in his arms a little bit now. "Someone will see."

"Let them." He growls back, his voice sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine, before he bucks his hips and sheaths himself fully inside of you in one smooth motion.

You cry out, your back arching and your head falling back against the glass, safe to let your body react how it will in the strong embrace of Minho's arms.

"Fuck." You pant out, your hands tangling into his hair, as he continues to thrust in steady strokes.

"Oh gods-" He groans gutturally, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you in place. He looks up at you through dark strands of hair, his lips parted, as if he can't quite catch his breath, as if you're the most beautiful, wonderful thing he's ever seen.

When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, his words punctuated by harsh gasps that match his rhythm.

"Fuck, sweetheart. There's no one, no one-mortal or God-who can instantly make me lose every last shred of control like you can."

You tug on his hair to make him meet your eyes as both of your lips part in pleasure.

"Does that scare you?" You breathe out, your chest rising and falling as you heave for breath.

His lips curve upward into the start of a smile, and his voice takes on a tone of amused honesty that rings through your very being.

"Not anymore."

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It fucking terrifies him.

This thing you possess that makes him lose his mind, his every last thought, his final shreds of dignity and willpower.

But he doesn't know how to control it-or himself-and that scares him. So instead, he's avoided you, and obsessed until his feelings have grown sour, and forced a wedge between you that might never break.

It's easier to deal with you as an enemy from afar than someone who has the power to destroy him right?

It's been eight weeks-two months-of silent dinners, but who's counting?

He glances at you down the table-a table much too big for two people-and notes the way your eyes scan the horizon, looking for the dolphins.

Stupid fucking dolphins.

You've never once looked at him the way you look at those creatures, but then again, has he ever really given you reason to?

He clears his throat, and before he can talk himself out of it, announces, setting aside his fork, "I have work that must be seen to. Enjoy your evening."

He stands, pushing back his chair, and turns to leave, but before he can escape, you say, without turning your head, "Stimulating dinner conversation as always, husband. I so enjoy our time together."

He freezes, and something akin to annoyance bubbles in his chest as he stares at you, refusing to look at him, your eyes fixed on the sea.

"To have a conversation with one another, wife, requires you to engage in one." He replies back coolly, watching you for your next reaction.

He's not disappointed.

You whirl to face him, eyes flashing with anger, hands going into fists on top of the table.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was unaware you wanted anything to do with me, and I certainly didn't know you wanted to speak with me."

Minho grinds his teeth, and he feels a muscle clench and flicker in his jaw as he regards you.

He shouldn't flame the fire, but he's intrigued by this side of you, this fight, and interacting is interacting, regardless of the tone of the words being said.

"Forgive me, but I am not one of your precious dolphins, so I merely assumed you would find my company boring and droll."

His tone is sharp, goading, seething.

You stand, shoving your chair back so forcefully that it tips over onto the cobblestone, and glare him down with the force of a thousand suns.

If he were not a God, Minho probably would've been dead.

"I hate you."

He feels his lips curve upward into the start of a taunting sneer as he leans over the table toward you, palms flat against the cloth.

"Oh? Do you? Careful there, sweetheart, the line between hate and love is no thicker than the edge of a sharpened dagger."

"Oh, there is no mistaking the feelings I have for you. I hate everything about you." You spit back, words sharp and pointed.

Minho settles back down into his seat casually, crossing his leg over his knee. He sees surprise flicker across your expression, before the fury takes over once more.

He motions for you to go on with a wave of his hand. "Go on then. Tell me all the things you hate about me. I do love a good discussion." He leans forward and makes a show of listening, his chin propped on his fist.

He sees the way it pisses you off, and it makes something inside of him lurch.

Your gaze is hard as you begin.

"I hate your arrogance. I hate the way that you just assume that everyone-mortal and god alike-want to fall at your feet."

Minho watches you, the way your chest heaves with impassioned breaths as you lean forward across the table toward him, the way your hair is falling loose from the carefully curated style he's sure your maids spent hours on that morning.

He prefers it down.

His cock pays attention to the way your breasts fall heavily when you lean, the open neck of the dress you wear gaping open, revealing the necklace of seashells dipping between your cleavage.

Focus.

You narrow your glare in on him, and Minho realizes you've begun speaking once more while he was distracted.

"I hate the fact that you make me come to these goddamn dinners every night, just so you can make me into a fool."

He arches a brow. "Well, I hate the fact that you agree to come to dinner, if you're simply not going to even try to engage in conversation with me."

Your expression grows murderous.

"You have never once shown any interest in speaking to or getting to know me! Not once!" You fire back, eyes flashing. "And that brings me to my next point-I hate that you dragged me here, away from my home, away from my family, just to lock yourself away in your office and not even have the honor or decency to show me even an ounce of kindness!"

Minho feels himself start to grow irritated as your voice rises in volume, and your anger flare.

He clenches his teeth and breathes out slowly, staring you down.

"Honor and decency?" He repeats back, his tone cold, his words firm. "Kindness? When has the world-or the Fates for that matter-ever been kind? I hate that you are so naive that you would think the world would be handed to you like a polished pearl within an oyster. This is not Naxos."

"I hate the way you talk down to me, belittle me, as if I am a sheltered little girl who knows nothing." You retort back, staring him right back down. "I am a goddess of the sea, and now your queen, and you would do well to treat me as such."

He feels his lips twist upward into a humorless smile.

"Oh? Is that so? If you were a queen, you would not be addressing me in such a way, which in turn, proves my point that you indeed know nothing of the world."

"Bullshit." You hiss through clenched teeth. "Your views on life-and marriage-are dated and archaic."

Minho arches a brow. "Interesting. Do tell me more about my own views, sweetheart."

Minho watches the way you clench your hand into a fist, your knuckles whitening.

"I hate when you call me sweetheart."

"And I hate when you're contrary just for the sake of being contrary, sweetheart." Minho retorts right back.

You glare across the table at him.

"I'm not fucking doing this." You finally growl out, before you turn your back on him and head for the winding stairs that lead off the veranda, and down to the hidden cove below.

Minho follows you, his steps right behind yours.

When you reach the beach, you whirl on him, fury written across your features.

Minho stops, but he doesn't back down.

"What else?" He goads, watching you carefully.

You stare at him for a long, hard moment, and then he sees you take in a forceful breath.

"I hate the way you hold a fork. And that you decorated my room in jewel tones and that you've never even once asked me if I prefer my coffee with or without sugar. I hate the way the same exact muscle flickers in your jaw every single time when you're holding in your irritation about something."

Minho smirks. "Oh? Is that all?"

"No." You retort back immediately, holding his amused gaze. "I also hate the way your hair always looks like you've just come in off the sea-tousled and damp. I hate the fact that you wear white button down shirts so casually, and I hate that I've noticed that one of your cheeks dimples slightly when you smile."

Minho stares at you for a moment, caught off guard.

You take the opportunity to barrel on, stepping closer to him, your bare feet digging into the wet sand.

"I hate that I know that you prefer when I wear my hair down, because I've seen the way you look at me when it's not done, and I absolutely fucking hate that I care in the slightest what you think of me."

The sea crashes wave after wave behind you, as if agreeing with your tirade.

Minho stares at you some more, completely unsure of what to say.

"I hate-" You take in a deep, gulping breath, and your expression sobers a little, the fury ebbing slightly. "-more than anything, that you have an effect me, I hate the way my body betrays me when you're around, the way my heart pounds, the way I look for you in a room when I enter, even though I know you won't be there."

Minho swallows.

"I hate the way you say my name-not the name I was given as a goddess, but my name-and the sparks I feel dance across my skin when I hear it on your tongue."

You sigh, and glance down at the sand at your feet, your toes dug beneath.

"But do you want to know what I hate most of all?" You ask, in a quiet voice, as if you're not really asking Minho, more just putting it out into the universe.

So he doesn't answer, just watching you, waiting for you to continue.

The waves crash against the shore, and when you look at him, your eyes have darkened, no longer with anger, but with regret.

"I hate, more than anything, that I can't make myself hate you."

Minho stares, all the words he was preparing dying on his lips, his brain buzzing.

You don't-hate him?

Fuck, maybe, that means-

He doesn't allow himself to finish that thought.

Surging forward, like the impatient sea at high tide, Minho crashes his lips into yours, and you stumble with the surprise force of it, both of you tumbling down into the soft, wet sand.

Minho doesn't stop, pressing you backward into the shore, his lips like fire on your own.

You let out a soft little gasp of surprise against his mouth, but you don't push him away, and he experimentally dips his tongue between the part of your lips.

Your breath audibly hitches, and the sound goes straight to Minho's dick.

Fuck, you're just as responsive as he had imagined you would be.

Carefully, he lets his hand trace down the arch of your neck, the line of your shoulder, and he hesitates for a brief moment of unsurety, before he lets his palm cup the swell of your breast.

You arch your body up into his touch, and open your mouth wider for his tongue, letting out a little whine as he begins to massage your breast.

"Fuck." Minho breathes out against your mouth, pulling back slightly so he can stare down at you splayed beneath him on the sand, your hair loose, your lips raw.

Its the fucking most beautiful sight he's ever seen.

He lets his hand trace down the line of your hip, your thigh, to the material of your skirt, wet now with sea water, sticking to your skin.

He has the sudden crazy urge to slip a hand beneath the material and see just how wet you are for himself.

Instead, he glances up at you, watching him carefully, and murmurs in the form of some start of a question, "Can I-?"

You nod, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, and Minho wants to reach up and free the plump skin from its constraints.

He doesn't, because before he can move, you say softly, "You don't have to be gentle with me. I know what this entails."

He follows the length of your body back upward, until, he's straddling you again, his hands sinking into the wet sand on either side of your head.

He looks down at you and sees your nervousness in the way your forehead crinkles slightly, the way you obstinately suck on your bottom lip.

Fuck, maybe there's a few tiny things he's let himself notice about you too in the weeks he's done his due diligence of avoiding you.

"You've been prepared?" He asks, still watching you carefully.

You nod again. "Yes. Our governesses. They said-"

You hesitate, and Minho feels his heart leap into his throat.

"They said what?"

You glance away, avoiding his gaze, and pink rises in your cheeks.

Minho doesn't think he's ever seen you embarrassed before.

"They said it might hurt." You whisper back, still not looking at him, your eyes focused too intently on the way your fingers, stretched out at your side, dig into the sand in anxious movements.

Minho blows out a breath.

"It might." He admits quietly, and you flick your gaze up to his, and he sees determination still your features. "But, did they also tell you then, that if done right, it can be extremely pleasurable for you?"

You cock your head, holding his gaze. "No. They said that you-"

"Fuck me." Minho immediately shakes his head, even though the words make his already unbearably hard cock ache.

He leans closer to you, his nose brushing yours. He can smell the salt water in your hair, see the way your pupils blow at his nearness.

He watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow, and brings his hand up to your cheek, stroking a fingertip along your jaw, glistening with sea water.

"I want to wring your body of every ounce of pleasure imaginable before I even think about satisfying myself."

Your lips part in surprise at his fervently uttered statement, and Minho smirks, staring down at you-the way your chest has started to heave with your breaths, the way you're squirming slightly beneath him.

Signs of arousal. Arousal for him.

He brings his hand up to his mouth, and holding your gaze, spits into his palm, wetting his fingers slowly, one by one, as you watch.

"You're wet." He remarks offhandedly, and he pointedly gazes down at your dress, the water puddling beneath your hips from the waves lapping at the shore.

You stare back at him and give a little hum of assent in your throat in reagards to his observation. "Mmm."

"Tell me, sweetheart-" He expects you to prickle at the nickname, but you don't, your eyes instead darkening at the way the syllables roll off his tongue. "-are you wet in other places?"

You inhale sharply, and Minho practically groans when your eyes flicker to his.

"Yes."

His lips curve into the start of a smirk. "I thought so."

He slides his hand down your body once more-the one he'd wet moments before-and moving slowly to give you a chance to change your mind, slips his fingers beneath the drenched material of your skirt.

When he touches the wet heat between your upper thighs, you both inhale sharply in tandem.

"Fuck, you weren't kidding." Minho groans, leaning forward on the one hand he still has planted in the sand, as he carefully begins to explore you with a finger at a time. "Wet enough to drown in."

"Minho-" You gasp out, arching your body up into his and putting delicious friction on his cock, as he cautiously works you open. "Fucking gods above. Shit."

Minho's lips curl up into an amused smirk as profanities continue to fall from your lips in an unending, pleasure driven stream.

"You know, for such a pretty little thing, you have an incredibly filthy mouth, sweetheart." He remarks, making you gasp and jolt as he curls a finger experimentally.

He wants to memorize the way you look up at him in this moment, your vision hazed with pleasure, your expression soft.

"I grew up in the presence of sailors." You reply back with a slight shrug, as Minho pauses, taking you in. "Does it bother you?"

He arches a brow, leaning forward to put his lips against your ear, and as he does so, he adds another finger, making you whimper and squirm beneath him.

"On the contrary, sweetheart. I could listen to you sing my praises in profanities for the rest of my immortal life."

"Minho, please-" You beg, your hands tracing up his body, your body writhing in the damp sand.

He stares down at you. "Please what?"

"Please, just give me more."

His lips curve, and his dick throbs at your desperate plea.

He would love nothing more.

"You and I are like the sea, sweetheart. The waves never cease. There is always more to give. And I swear to you, if I have to spend the rest of my eons exploring every single inch of you, I will gladly do so. Over, and over, and over again. Wave, after wave, after wave."

You bite back a smile as you stare up at him.

"I hate that you're so dedicated."

He smirks.

"And I, sweetheart, hate that I ever believed myself capable of staying away from you. I intend to remedy my mistake every single day from here on out."

🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚🐚

You lean back against Minho's bare chest, admiring the way the sunset plays off of the waves, your mind quiet and your body content against the warmth of the sand.

You feel him press a kiss against the crown of your wet hair, and you glance up at him, arching a brow as you ask softly, "What was that for?"

He glances down at you, amusement in his dark eyes. "I have to have a reason to kiss my wife?"

You give a little shrug and bite back a smile. "No, I guess not."

He angles his head to press a kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment. You can taste the salt on his tongue, the sun warming his mouth.

He tastes like the sea.

He pulls back, and you grin at him. "I just find that you usually have a reason for everything."

Minho rolls his eyes. "I hate that you think I can't just be spontaneous."

"And I hate that you stopped kissing me." You quip back playfully, and he growls, leaning over to kiss you again, wrestling you back into his arms as you giggle and squirm against the sand.

"There. Happy?" He asks when you separate once more.

You glance up at him, and raise a hand, letting sea water coat your fingers as you push back his hair.

"Incredibly."

His expression softens, and he leans in to kiss you once more, hand tangling into your hair to tug you to him.

You'd worn it down. It was his favorite after all.

Out at sea, against the setting sun, a dolphin breaches.

#skz #stray kids #stay #lee minho #lee know #minho #skz x you #skz x reader #femreader #y/n #lee minho x you #minho x you #minho x reader #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #greek gods #poseidon #skz au #greek gods au #skz fic #skz fanfic #fic #fanfic #amphitrite #minho x y/n #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios

[justmeinadaze]

Head Filled With Demons (Steddie X You)

A/N: Ok, a few things here. First I played fast and loose with demon mythology as well as a lot of the themes from the episode of Black Mirror this is based on. There are no spoilers for that episode so don't worry. I guess you could say this is an AU Steddie as in this world they are relatively well known demons in their mythology. I pulled some stuff from the show but...you'll see. No spoilers for either show here lol

I hope this is coherent and makes sense lol I had fun with it and I still have more chapters to go :) .

Warnings: Demon Steddie X Human fem reader; SMUT and ANGST with a dash of fluff. The smut has sprinkles of Dom Steddie (spanking, scolding, dirty talk), Mentions of a sick parent and death of another parent, small scene detailing domestic abuse (may be triggering), Steddie gives the reader visions so she sees bad things people in Hawkins do including the end of the world, there is a murder (very brief; blood is mentioned), y/n and Steddie mention a lot of themes regarding feeling stuck and unhappy.

Word Count: 6842

“HELLO!?”

You jump as the customer in front of you slams her items on the counter. 

“I’ve been waiting here for five minutes for service! Are you going to ring me up or not?!”

“Yes, ma’am. I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize. Just do your fucking job.”, she grumbles as you begin scanning the things in front of you. 

This will be the thousandth time TODAY you got caught daydreaming about being anywhere else but this stupid department store in the Hawkins mall. After graduating high school, you thought your options would be endless but once your father got sick, you knew you had to stay home to take care of him. You thought about applying to colleges nearby but everything was too expensive especially with the added medical and regular bills around the house, you needed to find employment fast. 

After the mall was built, you knew there would be a plethora of available positions and found one with a good hourly wage. The problem was it was incredibly boring. Some days you felt like running out of the store and just flipping over the railing to the second floor. At least you might finally feel something. Add in customers like this one and it was a good mix of pain and annoyance to drive you through to the end of your shift. 

“Are you done or what?!”

“Yes ma’am. Here’s your receipt and, please, have a great rest of your day.”, you say with the biggest fake smile you can muster. 

“You need an attitude check, missy.” She spat before turning and walking out the store. 

“Wow, you sure leave an impression.” Carol comes up behind you and leans against the counter, popping her gum obnoxiously. “Mr. Cline wants you to take those boxes to the basement.”

You glance where she’s pointing at the three boxes stalked against the wall that are taller than you both. 

“My last break is coming up. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because he didn’t ask me to. He asked for you.”, she sneered. “Is there a problem?”

“No,”, you grinned in a thin line. “No problem.”

***

You huffed as you threw the boxes on to the ground, not even pretending to care if there was anything delicate within them. Leaning against the wall to catch your breath, you look around the illuminated but still extremely creepy basement. 

Most of the stores in the mall kept a lot of their miscellaneous stock down here, segregated to different areas. Your department store usually kept overstocked clothing items like shoes and jackets until the ones upstairs were sold out or someone asked for something specific that was no longer kept on the shelf. The area was right next to the security guard’s desk but today he didn’t seem to be there. 

You walked over to it, glancing at the papers strewn all over the place. 

“Boo!”

“Jesus Christ, Paul!”, you exhale as you grip your chest. “Scared the crap out of me.”

“Good.”, he chuckles. “See anything interesting?” He laughs harder when you shake your head. “I’m actually glad I saw you. I found something on the floor here the other day I thought you’d think was cool.”

Paul digs into his desk drawer and produces a necklace with a gem tied to the end. 

“Beautiful, huh? The stone looks kind of like a guitar pick, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does. Where did you find it?”

“Like I said, it was on the floor kind of near your stores cage. I’ve never seen you guys sell anything like that and I know you’re into that gems/crystal mumbo jumbo so… I thought I’d give it to you to take a look. At most, maybe, you could ask Richard if they got some new things in.”

“Uh, yeah, ok. Thank you, Paul. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Of course, hon. Tell your dad I said hello!”

You couldn’t stop staring at the little stone connected to the chain as you rode the elevator back up to the main part of the mall. It did look like a guitar pick which wasn’t an abnormal design in the 80s since almost every single metalhead you passed had something like it but this one was different. Usually those necklaces were cheap, the stone on this looked expensive and old. The gorgeous red color shimmered against the light and pierced your eyes in a way that had a small moan leave your lips at its beauty. There were symbols on either side you couldn’t quiet make out. 

It was so odd. As your fingers ran over the material, you got this feeling in your chest, like this thing in your hands was meant for you…

The elevator dinged, startling you back into reality as you quickly hid the item in your pocket and headed back to the store to finish your shift.

##############

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, dad. What are you doing moving around? You should be in bed.”

You father walked over to give you a hug as you greeted him in the kitchen. 

“I know but I just wanted to wait for you. See how your day was.”

Sighing, you reach into the fridge to grab a snack before turning towards him so he could see your playful frustrated face. “Oh, you know. The regular; angry housewives and bitchy coworkers.”

He chuckles as he takes a seat at the dining table. 

“Y/N, you know you don’t have to work so hard, right?”

“I know, dad. I just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Sweetheart, I’m fine. I can handle…” His cough cuts him off and you quickly run to the cabinet to hand him his medicine. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”, you smile as you lean over to hug him again. “I’m fine. Trust me. I’m going to go munch on this junk and then crash.”

As you head towards your room, you hear his shaky exhale before taking another puff of his inhaler.

***

Sitting at your desk, you examine the necklace Paul gave you further and make notes on what you see. Tomorrow, you had the day off so when you went to the library you wanted to be able to have all the information you could. 

-silver chain

-Red Jasper stone 

            -support for stress

            -brings tranquility and wholeness (balance)

One side has a baseball style bat with thorns… Nails? 

            -Maybe meant for protection

Other side is a guitar from a long time ago. 

This is definitely beautiful. I wonder where it came fr—

“Ow! Shit.”, you wince as you place your thumb in your mouth. While looking at the gem, the bottom sliced through your skin causing you to bleed on your notes and the stone. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You run to the bathroom to grab a tissue, wrapping it around your finger before wiping it along the piece of jewelry. The feeling of wind on your back caused you to hastily turn around. It felt like someone had tried to touch your hair making a shiver run down your spine. 

Shaking away the jitters, you turned around, prepared to clean the blood off the paper when you noticed it was already gone and replaced with red, inked words. 

“I could have sworn…”

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Did I write that? I don’t think—” You’re not sure what made you do it. Maybe it’s because you were so exhausted or just seeing the word sweetheart triggered a warm, safe feeling in your belly. You scooted your pen below the sentence and responded with a nice, little… 

“Hi.”

“How are you tonight, pretty girl?”

“Jesus Christ!” Your chair falls to the floor as you stand and back up towards your bed. Your hand covers your mouth as you watch more words appear on the paper. 

“Y/N!? Are you ok?!”

“Um…yeah! Yeah, dad, I’m fine. Just… tripped.”

Slowing inching your way forward, you read the notes in front of you.

“Nice going, Ed.”

“Shit. It’s not my fault! I would be scared to if words magically appeared in front of me.”

“Oh my god. It’s finally happened. I’ve lost my mind. I’m going crazy.”

“You are NOT going crazy. I promise you, babe. What’s your name?”

“A sentient paper is asking me my name. Uh okay… I’m Y/N.”

“Aw, I like that. It’s pretty like you.”

“Y-y-you can see me? Right now?”

“Yes.”

You yelped when you felt a breeze again move past your arms.

“Wh-what’s your name?”

“Make you a deal. You give us permission to enter your realm and we’ll tell you our names.”

“Us?”

“Two sides, honey. Two sets of markings on the stone. Two…people.”

You could swear you hear chuckling in the air. 

“Don’t mean to rush you, princess, but we kind of need you to make a choice. Yes or no?”

“I, uh, I don’t—”

“Come on, Y/N. Just say yes. It’s fine. Yes, yes, yes…”

Suddenly, the word “yes” begins to crowd the page repeatedly until it spills over on to your desk. Your breathing picks up as your heartrate increases. Is this really happening? Is this in my head? What’s the downside to this?

“YES!”

Everything in the room stills as the words in front of you disappear. Two words begin to slide across the paper as you lean forward to read them. 

“Good girl.”

The light above you snaps off and you hear the sound of heavy breathing coming from your bed. Your eyes widen as you fall to the floor at the sight of two horned, demon looking figures sitting on your mattress. You cower in the corner covering your eyes as you begin muttering to yourself. 

“This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t—”

“Oh, uh, I forgot humans don’t have people like us running around. Um, sweetheart, what form would make you more comfortable?”

When you don’t answer, they sigh as the bed squeaks when they stand. One creature shuffles beside you towards your door where your poster of Tom Cruise in Risky Business hangs. The other moves towards your picture frame on your dresser of you during your meet and greet with Motley Crue. 

The sound of two sets of snapped fingers fill the room with a glowing red light and when you dare to sneak a peek from under your arm, you no longer see monster legs but a set of sneakers. A strong but soft hand touches your skin and your head shoots up as you push yourself as far back as you can. 

“How’s this? Better?”

The demon in front of you had formed into an everyday man you may see come into your store every now and then. His brown hair fluffed up perfectly and you pushed down the notion to run your fingers through it. Instead of his original rough looking skin, he now donned a soft but muscular form hidden under your typical style polo and jeans. His beautiful brown eyes scanned you over with concern as he kneeled in front of you.

Your eyes flicked to the other one across the room who was now checking himself out in your full-length mirror. His attire was much more torn and rattier than the other ones. His jeans had holes in many different places and the Dio vest was fringing near the bottom. The leather jacket and boots made your tummy flutter. He looked like the kind of man you would have dated back in high school. His long, wavy hair moved quickly as he turned around to face you both, digging into his jacket pocket and producing a cigarette.

“Um, please don’t…my dad…”

He pauses as both boys exchange a look. 

“Don’t worry. He can’t see me or inhale anything I smoke.” They watch as you slowly rise to your feet. “Oh shit. Manners. We made you deal. I’m Eddie. This is Steve.” He wiggles his fingers in a waving motion.

“Why is this happening now? Please. I can’t go crazy yet. My dad still needs me. I—”

“Again, not going crazy.  See, you found our thing here.”, Steve gestures towards the necklace. “You called for us so here we are.”

“No, no, no. I accidently…I didn’t mean…I…”

“Look, we don’t make the rules. We just follow them. Blood. Stone. Permission. Demons. It’s not that complicated.”

Steve rolls his eyes at his friend’s crassness. 

“D-D-Demons?”

“Yeah. It’s not that big a deal really.” Eddie draws a sharp intake of breath he turns towards to you. “I mean not entirely a big deal. Um, you just have to kill a few people or else the world will end but hey! Demons.”

Your eyes turn into saucers as you stumble to the bed. “I-I-I what now?”

“Three people to be exact.”

“Eddie, stop it. You’re scaring her. Y/N, honey…”, Steve kneels in front of you and places his hands on your thighs. Jesus, his palms are huge. “You do have to kill some people I’m afraid but you will be saving so many lives.” 

“Holy hell.”, Eddie sighs in frustration, snapping his fingers. 

The room around you is suddenly burning as sirens wale in the distance. Running to the window, you looked outside to see all of Hawkins in flames. You sunk to your knees as you covered your ears to muffle the screams of people outside. As quickly as it appeared, the images vanished and you were back in your regular room with two demons staring down at you. 

“I know. It’s not pretty, is it?”

Your world went black as your eyes closed and your head hit the floor.

##########

When you shot up the next day, you clutched your chest as you quickly looked around finding only yourself. 

“It was just a dream. Oh my god.”, you exhaled as you laid back down, laughing under your breath. 

After a quick change of clothes, you grabbed your notes and the necklace to head to the library. You peaked into your dad’s room to make sure he was still ok, leaving him a note on the table to tell him where you were. As you entered the library, you immediately did some quick research that led you to a mythology section of the building. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the placement. Hawkins could be so backward with a lot of things. When you started doing more digging on stones and auras when your mom got sick, this was the same section you found yourself in. This town’s definition of myth was extremely broad. 

You found the book you were looking for and slide down to the carpet to lean against the wall. You flipped through, stopping when you found the symbols that matched the ones on the gem. The baseball bat did have nails and represented the demon that referred to himself as Steve. 

“Steven is a known demon of protection, protecting any soul that calls for him by any means necessary. He is known as one of the more violent demons killing many beings and monsters with his signature sword. In later millennia, it is believed that he was cast out of his realm for killing one of his own kind to protect another relatively violent demon, Edward.”

“Edward is one of many demons known for music. Throughout history it was reported that Edward played for souls who were suffering. His music lulled many unsuspecting creatures towards their demise, however. It’s also been noted that not only did he use this tactic for war but for lust. He was accused of killing the King’s daughter and was hunted across the realm. Steven found him first and they both went on the run. The King banished them both, casting out Edward as well.”

“They walked from realm to realm before finding a talisman that wasn’t what it appeared to be. The gem belonged to another being who forced them into a life of servitude, trapping them within its material unless set free by a soul who summons them. Any soul that calls for them must kill three individuals or bring about the end of the soul’s world.”

“See? We weren’t lying.”

“Jesus!”, you jumped out of your skin at the sound of Eddie’s voice. 

Both men were now sitting on either side of you, arms circled around their knees. 

“It’s not a bad gig. I mean at least we still get to move about and watch people die. I wish we had more of a hand in it but…”, he shrugs.

You bring up the book you’re holding just enough to hide your face as you turn slightly toward him. 

“You’re real?”

“Yes, we are.”

“And this…this is accurate? The world will end?”

“That is correct.”, Steve responds.

“You have the wrong person for this. I-I can’t kill people.”

“Uh, technically, we didn’t choose you. You chose us. And WE can’t kill people. You can.”

“What? I—”

“Actually, we can kill people but only if they are hurting you.”

After getting up from the floor, you place the book back before powerwalking out the door. 

You let out a small squeak when they appear in front of you. “Can you stop doing that?”

“Can you stop running so we can clear the air?”

Bypassing your usual route home, you cut through a forest area so no one would see you talking out loud at what would appear to be yourself. 

“Clear the air. Ok, let’s clear the air. How do I know I can trust you? How do I know what you showed me was real?”

“Besides the fact that we LITERALLY showed you the future?”

“How do I know it’s not a trick? Like…killing three people would kick start the apocalypse instead of stopping it…”

“Well, we’re trapped in this realm to so…an end of this world would be the end of us.”, Steve sighs. 

“You’re trapped here?”

“Actually, it’s either here or a blank realm we fancily titled Oblivion.”, Eddie chuckles. 

“Oblivion?”

“Yup. Just a whole lot of nothingness except me and Ed here.”, he grins as he pats him on the back.

“I still don’t understand exactly why you’re stuck here. Why can’t you go back home?”

“Did you read the book or not?”

You scowl at him as you cross your arms. “Did you kill the king’s daughter?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as his sarcastic smile fell. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then why did you run?”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“That book said you lured people in not just to kill them but to fuck them. Is that why? Was she like a conquest or something? Is that what I am—”

His hand suddenly wrapped around your throat as he roughly pushed you back into a tree. 

“You don’t know anything, little one, so shut your fucking mouth. Do I make myself clear?”

Your eyes widen as you nod and he tosses you to the side.

Steve kneels on his heels as you cough on the ground trying to catch your breath. 

“You’re not a ‘conquest’, Y/N. Trust me, we prefer doing shit like this ourselves. It just…is what it is.” 

When he reaches out to take your hand, you swat it away, rising to your feet and continuing your walk back home. You hear them murmuring behind you the entire way.

***

“Hey my angel. How was your day?”, your dad grins as you step into his room. 

“It was good. I went to the library so…nothing too exciting.” He laughs along with you pausing to cough and gather more air. “I’m going to make dinner now, ok?”

You smile when he nods, gradually leaving the room completely ignoring both demons who are silently waiting for you. As you turn on the faucet to wash your hands, you feel warmth by your side and the sound of snapped fingers before the room around you turns completely dark. You’re no longer in the kitchen but a bedroom from a house when you were much younger. A voice you hadn’t heard in so long echoes through the hallway and you turn to see your mother grinning as she enters.

“Sweetheart, let her sleep.”

“She is sleeping, honey.”, your dad smiles tenderly as he cradles baby you in his arms. “I just can’t believe she’s finally here; you know? She’s going to have the best life. I don’t care what I have to do.”

“Ok, tiger. Calm down.” Your mother pats his back as he carefully lays you back down in your crib. “I understand what you mean though. She deserves the world.”

As she reaches down to caress your cheek, you hear another snap and your current reality comes back into view. You turn to Eddie as a tear falls from your eye. 

“I’m sorry…for…snapping at you.”, he struggles as he tries to apologize. “I thought MAYBE this could be my way of making it up to you.”

“You can see the past and the future?”

His tongue presses into the inside of his cheek as he nods. 

“May I have a moment alone please?”

With that they were gone and you allowed yourself to cry as you began making your dad’s meal. 

#############

After checking in on everything, you grabbed your jacket and headed out the door. 

“Where are you going?” You rolled your eyes at Steve’s question. “It’s not safe to walk around at night, ya know.”

“Well thankfully I have two demons looking out for me.”, you respond sarcastically. 

They follow you as you walk around the town, trying to ignore them as they continue to verbally push you. 

“Hawkins is just rife with people who need to leave this plane of existence. I mean that one there…”, Steve snaps his fingers and images fill your mind. “…he steals from his grandmother to buy drugs for himself.”

“This one…”, Eddie snaps. “She bullied a girl so hard she ended up having a break down and was hospitalized for a year.”

“STOP! Stop it.”, you seethe. “It hurts.”

“It hurts you? Imagine how their victims feel!”

“You don’t think you can kill people. Fine. Why not kill people who are causing harm?”

You sprint till you end up in the woods near your house, skidding to a stop when they appear in front of you again. 

“I can’t ok!?”

“Look, we understand—”

“No, you don’t! You don’t understand! I’m a good person. I—”

“Miss? Are you okay?” Abruptly turning you find a man, standing a few feet from you with worried eyes. “Do you need help?”

“N-n-no. I’m alright.”

“What about him?”, Eddie gestures. “He’s definitely not a good guy.”

“No!”, you whisper.

“No? Are you sure, miss? My home isn’t too far. I can call a doctor or something.”

Fingers snap and images cloud your brain again. 

“He hurts his wife any chance he gets.”, Steve’s voice fills your ears. “Last week she came home from work two minutes too late according to him and he beat her within an inch of her life.”

Something heavy filled your palm as Eddie continued on your other side. “Didn’t even take her to the hospital. She laid there crying for hours till she was finally able to crawl off the floor onto the couch. The next day he took care of her, apologizing.”

“Why do you make me act this way, honey? You know how bad my temper can be.”

“I…I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

“I know, baby.”

Anger filled your heart as you swung your arm, trying to get him away from her. The visions left your eyes and as you looked down you saw the man now bleeding on the ground. Your hand holding the now red stained rock shook as you dropped it and ran.

***

As soon as you got back home, you headed straight to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you as you began to pace. 

“Way to go, pretty girl!”, Eddie clapped from his sudden spot on your bed. 

“One down, two to go.”, Steve followed. 

You continued to move as they spoke, not hearing a word they said. 

“Hey, hey. Come on now. You did amazing.” The metalhead looking boy reached to touch your hand but as soon as his fingers made contact with your skin, your hand flew out to smack him across the face.

“This is your fault. I didn’t want to do this! I just hurt someone.”

Eddie growled as he rose to his feet and slowly began stepping forward. “No. You didn’t hurt someone. You killed someone. Let’s get that distinction right. Congratulations, sweetheart, you’re one of us.” His chest bumped into yours knocking you back towards the wall, his hand pressing up against it near your head as he glared down at you. 

“The only difference is we’ve killed way more people than you can even imagine in so many different ways. In our realm people were afraid of us. Remember that the next time you think about hitting me.” His face leans in so close that his breath hits your lips making you shiver. “I can hurt you and not even think twice.”

Your sudden giggle surprises him as he leans back to look at your face. 

“No, no. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh but… you can’t hurt me. He won’t let you.”, you gesture towards Steve who sighs as he folds his arms. “He said he’s supposed to protect me from ANYONE who tries to hurt me, even you.” You tilted your head to the side as you continued. “And people from your realm must not have been that frightened by you if the banished you. Hell, you didn’t even fight back! You ran!”

“I like her.”, Steve smirks as the other man’s own eyes scan you from head to toe. “She kind of reminds me of—”

Eddie raises his palm to silence his friend. “Hit me again.”

“What? You just said…”

“I know what I said. Listen to what I’m saying now. Hit. Me. Again.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, little one. I know you want to. Just like I know you want to fuck me. Well us.”

You laugh at him again but this time it comes out more shaky than earnest. “Pfft, someone has a big ego.”

“That’s not all we have that’s big.”

Pushing him away, you start to head for the door but it’s still being blocked by Steve. 

“We are yours for the next 3 weeks. Unless you kill two other people pretty quickly…which, let’s face it, probably won’t happen.” He kicks off the wood with his foot stepping forward as you slowly back away from him. “How long has it been, honey, since anyone has made YOU feel good?”

Abruptly, you run into something hard thinking it’s the adjacent wall before Eddie’s arms wrap around your stomach. You should tell him to stop, tell him to leave you alone and not touch you but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel comfortable in his embrace. 

“You took care of your mother when she was sick and now your father. You missed out on opportunities like school and leaving this fucking dreadful town. You work at a job you hate where people degrade you and make you feel worthless. Your last relationship ended because he cheated on you with your coworker yet you still pretend to not know and let her boss you around. Every night you come home and lay in that bed…feeling empty and alone…yet you don’t complain.”

Your head hangs as you try to control the tears from escaping. Fingers snap and you lean back against the other demon’s shoulder as you see the wife of the man you killed grinning as she sits on the floor of her new home cooing at a baby beside her. A man walks in with a wide smile and descends to the woman’s level kissing her lips as she giggles against them. 

“You saved her life, Y/N. If she had stayed with her current husband, he would have killed her within 2 years. He’d go to trial but be out of jail within a year due to a good lawyer and an appeal.”, Steve whispers in a soothing voice. “Now, in three years, she meets this new person who makes her feel loved and respected. He never once lays a hand on her and she finally feels safe. She has two kids with him and dies at 80 a few months after he does.”

He snaps his fingers again and your mind clears for a moment before becoming foggy for a different reason as Steve leans down to kiss your forehead. Your entire body lights up at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Is that normal for demons or is it just him?

Soft kisses trail down your jaw till they attach to your neck making you hum in approval. The hands that had been resting on your tummy glide to your jeans and carefully unbutton them before sliding his fingers through the waistband of your panties. The cold metal of his rings startle you slightly as you push your lower half against his.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. I got you.”, Eddie whispers. Your arm loops around to cling to his neck as your fingers tangle in his hair.  A tiny moan leaves your throat when his thick digits run through your folds. “You are so wet, pretty girl. Let us take care of you. Let us…” You head tilts against his shoulder again as two of his fingers plunge into your core. “…relieve some of this stress you’ve been carrying.”

Steve descended to his knees, tugging your pants and underwear with him, biting his lip at the sight of how his friend’s hand was glistening with your slick. You whined when Eddie removed his fingers only to whimper when it was replaced with the other demon’s exceptionally large tongue.

“Oh my God…”

“No, baby. Don’t say his name. Say ours.”

Your eyes roll back as his lips connect to your throat, sucking on your flesh as your fingers reach down to run through Steve’s hair. The world became hazy around you as his mouth wrapped around your clit while pressing and flicking his tongue in just the right way. Eddie carefully lifted off your shirt and removed your bra, throwing them to the side. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Do you know that?”, he asked as he rest his chin on your shoulder, looking down at your body as his palms roamed purposely avoiding your tits. 

“Mmm—how-how many people have you said—fuck—said that to?”

“Steven, she’s still able to form sentences. I think you might be a little rusty, my friend.”, he chuckled.

“Oh…oh God…”, you mewled as he began to lick faster, sliding his fingers into your cunt as he pumped them into you matching his pace. 

Eddie grabbed your chin roughly, turning you to face him. “What did I say? You moan our fucking names.”, he snarled through gritted teeth. 

“Eddie, stop.”, Steve warned, replacing his tongue with his thumb. They glared at each other but something in his stare scared even you. “Not tonight.”

“I’m…I’m…” Your knees buckled and the demon behind you quickly gripped your body to keep you from hitting the floor as you came harder than you ever had before. 

“There you go. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” 

As you gradually came down from your high the demon in front you stood up and lightly kissed your lips. A fire ignited in you, through your soul, and straight to your core. Your arms needily wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer, walking with him backwards to the bed till you both fell on to it.

You squeaked when your palm ran down his chest and you realized he was suddenly naked. Steve couldn’t help but laugh at your shock. 

“Remember, honey, all of this…”, he gestures at his body. “…is for you. To make you more comfortable. Not that I hate it. I’m kind of growing attached to the hair.” Your eyes closed as he started grinding his cock through your dripping folds. “This part is still me though. Do you want to feel it? Do you want to feel what a demon’s dick can do?”

Nodding, you prepared yourself as you reached around to cling to his shoulders. 

“Can you open your eyes for me? I want to watch those beautiful eyes as I stretch you open.”

As soon as you do as he asks, he grins, gripping the base of his cock and guiding it into your entrance. Just the tip of him had your eyebrows furrowing together. He was much bigger than anyone you had ever had and your walls were resisting his size. When he pushed in another inch, your eyes promptly closed again and his angry grumble immediately hit your ears. 

“Y/N, what did I say?”

“I’m…I’m sorry. You’re just…you’re so…”

“Look at me.”, he growled and your eyes snap open. “Fuck, you feel so good. I’ve never had a being as tight as you before.” This time he pushes in a little more forcefully making you groan. “We’re going to fucking ruin you for anyone else. Fuck me.”

Your pussy fluttered at his statement and a sinister laugh echoed from them both. 

“You like that, baby girl?” Steve’s forehead falls on yours as he finally bottoms out. “You like the sound of us ruining this little pussy? Say it.”, he commands in a firm tone as you nod.

“I want…want you…to…” He nods encouragingly, his nose grazing yours. “To…ruin my—mmm—my pussy.”

His hips roughly roll into yours and your jaw goes slack at the intense pleasure that courses through body. 

“Yeah? Ok, pretty girl. We can do that for you.” Steve leans up on to his knees, lifting your left leg up to chest as his palm holds your other open wide against the mattress. His eyes watch his cock as he begins thrusting into you.

Another set of hands suddenly appear and you quickly turn to see Eddie laying by your side as his fingers lightly play with your erect nipples. 

“You never answered my question. DO you know how beautiful you are?” He leans to trail kisses along your neck till his lips find your breast and you moan while he flicks against the bud as he closes his mouth around it. “I actually don’t say that to many beings. Personally, I think your kind is terrible.”

Your fingers thread through his hair as his teeth graze the sensitive area causing your hips to buck up as you moaned loudly. 

“You have to be quiet, sweetheart. You may be the only one that can see us but everyone can hear you.” Eddie leaned over you like you weren’t even there, picking your panties up off the floor, and shoving them into your mouth.

Smirking, he placed his fingers against his lips in a shushing motion before sliding his palm between your legs and rubbing them against your clit. Steve slammed his hips into yours and the world melted away around you. You felt like you were floating in space and the only thing keeping you grounded was their hands on your body. White light blinded your vision as you screamed which was rapidly muffled more by Eddie’s hand. 

“Atta girl, baby. Let go and just feel it.”

Your climax felt like it lasted hours as Steve slowed his pace, thrusting his cock as deep as he could while you came back down to earth. Suddenly, he grunted as you felt warmth coat your insides. 

“That’s it, honey. Fuck…your pussy is just begging for more of my cum. You’re clinging to my dick so fucking tight.” He hovered over your twitching frame, pulling the gag out of your mouth as he continued to slowly pump his hips, allowing your quivering hole to milk him. “Such a good girl. A good, beautiful girl. I know, baby. I know. It feels so good, you want more. It’s Eddie’s turn next. He’ll take good care of you just like I did.”

You whimper when he pulls out, sad at the empty feeling before your roughly turned onto your stomach and aggressive hands lift your ass in the air. In your state of bliss, you can’t make out the words entirely but you hear both demons exchange a few words. 

“Don’t hurt her…isn’t…like us…”

“Calm…not going to…”

Pushing up on your hands, you feel Eddie press his cock to your entrance before easily pushing himself in, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. He was thicker than his friend and even with you and Steve’s most recent orgasm leaking out of you, there was still resistance within your cunt. 

“Y/N, fuck, sweetheart. Steven, how—mmm—how did you control yourself from not just fucking pounding her into the mattress?” Your pussy fluttered at the thought and he groaned as he leaned his chest down against your back. “Yeah? You like the sound of that? Steve thinks—mmm—we need to be gentle with you.” As his breath warmed your ear, he thrust his hips, pushing himself as far into you as your bodies would allow.

“Naw… you’ve been careful your whole life, haven’t you? You just want to…to let go and be fucked so hard—damn—you forget how unhappy you really are.”

When your only response was your moans, he pushed off your chest and held your hips as he thrust into you. Eddie’s fingers harshly kneaded the flesh of your ass before occasionally slapping it making you mewl. Once again, it was like time and matter evaporated except for you and them. With each slap and thrust, you felt like you could see into another world; a better one. 

Your hair was abruptly tugged, yanking you to your knees as his ringed hand held you tightly. As your head tilted to the side, you noticed his eyes were closed as his face scrunched in pleasure. For a second, you forgot who they were and what they were here for. He seemed like any normal man just trying to make you feel good. Your lips moved towards him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek causing his eyes to fly open and look your way.

Eddie’s movements slowed as he scanned your face, trying to get a read on you. He wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t like humans. He struggled to find any real good within them and quite frankly they reminded him of some of the lower level demons he fought back home. You seemed different than everyone else, you reminded him of her. 

He shook the images from his head, pushing your upper half back down against the mattress where you found yourself face to face with Steve. His fingers delicately pushed your hair out of your face before he softly slid them down your skin, reaching under your body and between your legs to rub your clit. 

“Cum again, Y/N. You can do it.” He grabs your panties and places it in your mouth again. “There you go, honey. Go ahead and scream. It’s ok.”

His palm firmly covers your mouth as you see that light once more, blinding you as you shriek and moan into your gag as your orgasm shutters through you.

“Fuck, baby. Yes.”, Eddie grunts as he holds your hips tighter, pumping his hips faster. 

“Good girl. I know. I know, sweetie. You did so well. You deserved this. Can you say that for me?”, he asks as he tosses your underwear back to the floor.

“I…I deserve…this.”, you pant. 

Your body jerks forward as Eddie gives you a few more rough thrusts and you feel his seed spill into you. Like his friend, he continues small pumps to make sure he fully empties into your pussy. Whimpering, he pulls out of your now aching core and collapses beside you. He twirls his fingers and a cigarette appears between them as he quickly lights it, blowing smoke towards the ceiling. 

“Y/N, are you okay?”, Steve asks as he rolls you onto your back and caresses your cheek. You mumble something he can’t hear as your heavy eye lids close. Rolling over to face Eddie, you intertwine your fingers with the free hand that’s between you as you push your back into the other demon’s chest behind you. It startles them both as they exchange a glance. 

Usually, the beings that summoned them wanted to get things over with as quickly as possible. When they were sexual with them, the summoner was a willing participant but was never intimate. They were demons who were going to leave them after they completed the task anyway so what was the point?

Your lips moved again and Eddie tossed his cigarette into a void before turning to face you, placing his palm on your side.

“Can you hear what she’s saying?”, Steve asked.

The other demon nods as he heavily sighs, pulling your blankets up over your waist. 

“She said ‘thank you’.”

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steve fluff #demon!steddie #demon!Steve harrington #demon eddie munson #au fanfiction

[mayakern]

as a long time fan of supergiant games and as someone who was obsessed with greek mythology as a child, i am EXTREMELY pumped about hades II. but also very curious about the new main character’s design. i feel like sgg (really, jen zee specifically) usually does a really good job of telegraphing their designs so that if you know the most basic things about a god, you can recognize them on site based on their design.

from the shape language to the posing to specific visual elements, they make sure that even at a quick glance the characters are not only distinct from one another, but have enough references to their domain and mythology that they are very recognizable.

i think demeter is one of my favorite indicators of this and one of my favorite hades designs over all. she’s not interpreted in the way a classic demeter is, and that’s part of what’s perfect. she’s been built at with little hints and references in other characters’ dialogue that paint her as critical, overbearing and not exactly trustworthy. and when you see her you’re like, “what, this is the goddess of the harvest?” with the absence of persephone and her casting the earth into famine, it makes sense that she doesn’t look bountiful, that her cornucopia (still the classic visual reference to demeter) is empty, her wheat frozen.

but melinoë is different. melinoë is a bringer of nightmares, a goddess of ghosts. her mingled heavenly and infernal heritage manifests in her primary physical trait: a body that is split down the middle, half white and half black. this is basically her most defining physical characteristic (the other being that she wears saffron, which is bougie as hell but not the point), but here is her design from the hades II trailer:

i see the saffron, see reference to her ghostly/undead connections, and there is an element of her half-and-half complexion with those black moon armor (maybe?) coverings on her right arm and leg. but when i first saw this design i thought she was an original creation (like zagreus*), not an existing god. i’m interested to see if this means they’ll be changing core parts of her mythology (and to see if that’s reflected in her design) and to see what direction she’s headed in but really this whole long post has just been building up to me saying

WHY DIDN’T THEY GIVE HER SPLIT DYE HAIR

PLEASE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO PERFECT

almost every visual interpretation of melinoë, even if they don’t split her body into white and black halves like a white and black cookie, gives her a split dye. and maybe they wanted to avoid what everyone else was doing, but i feel like melinoë is unknown enough that that isn’t really a big deal. idk. i just think it would be neat. that’s all.

(*yes i know there is a zagreus in greek canon that is the first iteration of dionysus and is the son of persephone and zeus but i feel like game zagreus resembles his mythological counterpart so little that he’s basically an original creation, and maybe they’re doing the same with melinoe! since she is also technically the child of zeus and persephone**)

(**depending on the canon it’s either zeus disguised as hades or zeus and hades are two aspects of the same being)

#hades #hades ii #melinoe #maya rambles

[yourclumsyguardianangel]

the seven + a few others future headcanons

percy:

becomes a high school teacher

teaches high school marine biology (idk how it is in other schools but when we hit sophomore year we got to choose different bio classes ie: marine bio, ag bio, med bio + regular bio)

also teaches the mythology elective and is the swim team coach

annabeth:

we already know this queen is an architect with obvious inspiration from greek architecture

learns how to make blue food for percy and their kids from sally

has traveled all over the world looking at different architecture

learns the basics of many languages so shes able to communicate with the locals

her and leo team up to build a small school near camp half-blood for year rounders so everyone can learn consistently but dw they get summers off

piper:

love her but shes a nepo baby

she doesnt act like it tho

”are you tristan mcleans daughter?” “who?”

loves her dad to bits but does not like being seen out in public by the paparazzi

marries shel, they dont have kids tho, neither of them want to bring any into the world especially with america’s downfall and the government erasing women and poc rights

is basically leos big sister atp

leo:

him and calypso dont last, maybe a year and a half in they split bc calypso wants to explore the world and leo is very emotionally unstable and calypso has a hard time understanding

they end on good terms but dont ever talk unless its with a group of friends

he goes into a trade to become a mechanic and owns his own shop

starts smoking cigarettes/vaping

his friends dont really approve but they understand he cant quit just yet as hes not in a mental space to do so

goes to therapy with a psychologist whos a demigod that specializes in grieving and war trauma

they all go to therapy but hes the last one to do it

he’s still the ‘happy go lucky’ guy hes always been but as he gets closer w the others they start to see the true sadness in him

piper and him grow a lot closer after jason died and have a big sister little brother relationship

hazel:

my girl stays at camp jupiter

takes nicos place at camp

horse trainer

her and frank also dont work out as a romantic relationship, they felt that the age gap was too much after frank turned 18 and hazel was 15 theyre still friends tho

hazel often visits leo in his shop

as much as leo reminds her of sammy, through therapy she has recognized that theyre separate people and to not push all her past feelings for sammy onto leo

not only does she train horses but she also teaches little kids basic math, science, and history to the younger kids

they all call her ms. hazel

she prefers to teach the really young kids (age 4-7)

wears her hair in different braid styles after BOO

frank:

my friggin HOMIE

i relate to frank a lot personality wise

therefore i think hed be a 4/20 fanatic after BOO

hes not stoned during training or during important camp duties

but otherwise you try talkin to him and you dont really notice until you look and see the far off look and red eyes and he just goes “huh?”

other than that hes a great leader

after he gets his cool new look from mars he takes really good care of his body including consistent exercise and eating really healthily (maybe he has a soft spot for fast food when hes hi)

him joining the military does not make sense to me

he lost his mom to war, and he was in one himself, idk about you but i would not wanna join the military after being the main character in a war

he studies to be a veterinarian for exotic animals

when no one is around he shifts into the animal to find out whats wrong

”dr. zhang prefers to work by himself” “why” “idk but hes always right, if it aint broke dont fix it”

jason:

rip home-slice

nico:

my other homie

my guy does not get taller than 5’8

stays at camp during the summer to train the new and old kids

him and will get a house together

teaches history at the camp school

cat dad (5 cats and counting)

will:

takes nicos last name when they marry bc its cooler

him being a doctor doesnt click w me i more picture him being an EMT

EMTs are hotter anyways

does med training with new apollo kids whenever he gets time

if he’s not busy during working hours he drops by nicos classroom w his fav drink from dutch bros (starbucks is MID) and hangs out with him and his students

#percy jackson #pjo #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #piper mclean #annabeth chase #nico di angelo #will solace #heroes of olympus #solangelo #percabeth

[two-dolla-bills]

Top 10 mechanisms songs that you can get away with playing at a retailers without too many side eyes

I got a job in retail and I felt inspired lol

Disclaimer: this is not a list of the best mechanisms songs/the ones I think deserve to go "mainstream", they're just the ones that would blend in the best

1. Sirens

This song is probably the mechanisms' least "centered" song. It doesn't mention any characters, it has no narration, and out of context it just sounds like A Song that you might hear on the radio. Sirens is to the mechanisms as you're the one that I want is to grease, you know?

2. Trial by song

THIS one. It's in the same category to me as Sirens; you can listen to it by itself and not suspect much. Unlike Sirens which can be completely separated and still make sense, this one is more like a whole new world from Aladdin. There are parts that make it obvious that it's from a larger whole, but if you just so happen to catch the "safe" parts you won't suspect much.

Points were deducted due to Mr. Soldier's unique vocals. (Unique as in not very common in mainstream music)

3. Empty trail

This is no offense to Dr. La Cognizzi, but sometimes when she sings it's hard to make out what she's saying, which works in her favor in these circumstances. It sounds country/rock, which help it blend in with some dad rock songs. If I remember correctly, the melody was actually taken from a Led Zeppelin song, so if you aren't paying attention to what's ACTUALLY being said you can get away with claiming it's a cover.

4. Ties that bind

Although this one does mention many plot points, many fans have stated that they had no idea what the fuck was being said until the have looked for the lyrics (myself included) this, combined with it's jazzy rythm, make it able to blend in with other songs, similarly to empty trail

5. Odin

The most "normal" song out of the entirety of The Bifrost Incident. This song made it to the top five because it has similarities with Roam by the B-52's, but had points deducted due to it clearly being about an awesome space train

6. Lost in the cosmos

This might just be personal opinion, but it sounds like a church song. You can pull off the effect of it being about earth Jesus and not space robot Jesus if you have particularly bad quality speakers and a busy store w/lots of noise. Again, the lyrics kinda give it away as to not being entirely main stream

7. Stranger

Look it's a banger, ok? Many of the lyrics could be taken as just being metaphors, but I feel like you have to squint to "see" it. Pay too much attention and shit gets a little weird. Also, points deducted because it's two men singing together and not a man and a woman, which throws a wrench into the works. At kohl's it might raise some eyebrows but in like hot topic it'll blend in a little better

8. Redeath

You would think a song about a sphoenix (space phoenix) would be lower on the list but you'd be wrong. It's a really pretty song with a good original melody, and it's something that can be drowned out by a particularly rowdy crowd. Like Stranger, it would blend in better at a hot topic than at kohl's, but only slightly.

9. Elysian Fields

The melody in Elysian Fields is taken directly from the song wayfaring stranger, which has been coverd by Jonny Cash, Ed Sheeran, Poor Man's Poison, and The Longest Johns, AS WELL HAS having been featured in the movie 1917 and in the video game The Last of Us II, which make it very recognizable. Because of this recognizability, people who know the original song may be caught off guard by hearing it in a Walmart with completely different lyrics. It was originally in 7th place, but the popularity of the original takes off many points

10. Once and future king

It's a banger, don't get me wrong, but it also very heavily and clearly mentions plot points from the album, which itself is heavily base on Aurtharian mythology; something very well known in the western world (also the names are not common at all and most haven't been in fashion in centuries). In a crowded, busy space with not very good quality speakers it could potentially blend in, but one or two names might sneak out. The only reason it's on the list is because of the instrumental outro, which sounds normal enough

#the mechanisms #hnoc #tbi #udad #two songs that didn't make it on the list were cinder's song and sleeping beauty #they're both good but too specific

[aroaceleovaldez]

im really not a fan of Rick's recent trend of recycling bits of his writing that got a good reaction the first time and acting as if that's a valid substitute for. actually bothering to write something original a second time around. It's clearly just there as a callback and nothing more.

It's "Nico's rage exploded" and "Percy's rage exploded" with the exact same paragraph formatting. It's CoTG having titles like "My Singing Makes Things Worse, and Everyone Is Totally Shocked" (reference to TLO, when Percy says he thinks his singing would cause an avalanche) or "Pretty Much the Best Good-Night Kiss Ever" (reference to TLO "Pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time") or any other number of near word-for-word references to the first series. It's Nico calling Percy "seaweed brain" in Un Natale Mezzosangue (when Percy says in TTC that anybody but Annabeth calling him that is a major offense). It's Nico and Will falling into Tartarus in TSATS word-for-word referencing Percy and Annabeth in House of Hades, despite it not making any sense for their characters (and otherwise being written as Percabeth 2™). It's the show making huge changes but keeping random "fan-favorite references" (mostly overusing "seaweed brain" and "wise girl" and emphasizing percabeth) only because they're popular in-jokes and considering that a faithful enough adaptation to market it heavily as such. It's lazy writing.

And it's a disservice to the series and to the audience, because it clearly shows Rick doesn't have original ideas anymore (though given all his writing is heavily derivative to begin with, it begs the question how much was original in the first place and how much he has difficulty when he doesn't have a structured mythological plot to work from) and that there is an expectation that the audience will just sit down and accept that behavior hook-line-and-sinker. Everything recently is clearly such lip-service to the audience, either in retcons that are overt speaking-to-camera acknowledgements of things he's been criticized on or wink-wink-nudge-nudges of community in-jokes that have no business in the actual text (see: over-use of ship names in canon). Especially since Rick tends to be about 5 years behind on the fandom uptake. It's just so disappointing to see.

#pjo #riordanverse #tsats crit #pjo tv crit #rr crit #< OH BOY A TRIPLE #MCGA's reference to Jason's concussions in the chapter titles is on thin ice but can stay for now #callbacks can work! in-jokes and references can work! see: Percy's dam joke in Son of Neptune #or Percy in the musical making the joke about his singing causing an avalanche as a reference to TLO #or any other number of references in the musical #but you need to know when they belong and when they ABSOLUTELY DO NOT #and when it's a fun nod and when it just feels like you're copying your own homework #a great example actually - i was recently reading an *excellent* fic by @vivitalks #and in it Jason uses the phrase ''you knock me out'' as a fun nod to Jason's ''you're a knock-out'' in TLH #that's a good little reference! that's how you do it! #a character who has already used one phrase uses a similar phrase. because theyre the type of person to say that phrase. #that's already been established. and it highlights something about their character that they return to that phrase #in that fic it highlights that Jason is a total dork especially when it comes to romance #Percy's ''dam'' joke reference in SoN works because it's only used once very briefly and it's very quickly brushed by #and it's literally Percy making a reference to his own past and acknowledging that he's doing that. it's his own in-joke! that's reasonable #it's not reasonable to expect FOUR DIFFERENT PEOPLE to have the EXACT SAME REACTION to FALLING INTO SUPERHELL #especially when they're established to all be EXTREMELY DIFFERENT CHARACTERS with DIFFERENT DYNAMICS #long post //

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

chaos at bay (god!toji x f!reader)

tags and warnings: god!toji x f!reader, mentions of naoya harrasing the reader but it is very broad, mentions of being lured against a wall, reader's bracelet keeps her safe causing naoya to back off (cutting of hands), hellenistic // greek inspired elements and references to literature, toji being protective and blaming himself, mentions of helen from Greek mythology, reader being slightly reassuring, slight angst but good intentions here ((inspired by this mini-series))

"has he done anything to you?" there's no skip of a beat in your heart as toji holds you by the waist, your mind dizzy after the serpent tongued god naoya caught you by surprise. everyone in toji's temple knew naoya was forbidden from entering the grounds. so with five minutes, the god not only tried to get inside your mind but tried to lure you against a wall. fortunate for you, the man was taken aback by your push and the bleeding of his hands. all thanks to toji's barcelet.

you're too shaken to speak, deciding to shake your head from fear your voice might break. toji's brows furrow, the scar upon the corner of his lips more prominent as your heart churns at the idea that he might blame himself for this. no, the man has done everything to save you. removing you from marrying into tribesman leader sukuna to gifting you shelter here, in the afterlife that is neither life nor death, you have found refuge between this land. a land you had no intention of leaving.

"I should've told him to leave when I had the chance," he huffs, running a hand through his black shiny hair, "should've banned him from entering, but yet I was afraid of the higher ups knowing..." he shakes his head, speaking aloud before realizing that he was speaking in your presence. toji feels an immense sense of guilt. you can see that in his eyes and his frown. the way his hand is protectively around your waist as he scans for any external visible wounds or signs of discomfort he might have just said.

"it's fine," you croak. "I'm okay."

"I should have never let him return."

"the bracelet kept me safe."

"nevermind the bracelet, I made an oath to ensure your safety. and I... I'm no better than the fools living under Odysseus' roof."

"that's not true," while you might not be entirely sure what he refers to, your gentle hand reaches his arm, causing the god to slightly wince, "you have given me a home, provided shelter, and a place to call home. how can a man call himself a fool for doing that?"

"one who doesn't keep..." annoyance sweeps through his eyes, not towards you, but himself. and you wonder what sort of self hatred a man like him might carry. he sighs. "I made a promise. you're my responsibility."

"I'm fine, toji."

"I know you are, but that's still not enough." his voice lowers, "he could have... you could have..."

"he couldn't've hurt me with the bracelet on," you clarify, stepping forward, "and I would never dream to be with a brute like that. hasn't sukuna been enough? you saw what kind of monster he was and I'm sure naoya was no different." he sighs.

"I'll make sure to make a report with the higher gods."

"and what will they do? I'm just a simple human, toji." his eyes spark in betrayal as he looks down at you from his high stature.

"you forget how the most important woman in the world to these gods was helen of troy, a human. and make no mistake, I will envoke such chaos if it means keeping men like that away from you. you will be treated with such honor. even if it costs a life or thousands in exchange for your peace and safety."

#men like thissssss #please why aren't these on amazon I need a man like this totally not a little self indulgent rn hehe #toji #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushigro x reader #jujutsu sukuna #naoya #naoya zenin #toji x reader x naoya

[canmom]

Exordia - advance review

So. I finished the book!

This is not everything I will write about Exordia. That will come when the book is like, officially out, and I feel comfy spelling out the ending and quoting passages at length.

This 'advance review' is split into two parts. The first part is quite abstract, so I'll copy it here.

If Baru took an elliptical path towards its subject matter, by defamiliarising and rearranging the material of history… Exordia just gets straight in there.

How to describe Exordia? Maybe you could call it philosophy-driven science fiction, a thought experiment about ethics. Maybe you could compare it to Arrival, but shot up with black humour (it’s a book that could make me laugh and cry, sometimes at the same time) and real tragedy (at the core is the genocide of the Kurds in the late 80s, and the many betrayals and failures of American imperialism). It’s got a lot of action and military details, with a good few spies and soldiers as central characters, but broadly it’s one of the sharpest eviscerations of the US military and its role in the world I’ve encountered in Western science fiction.

The first two thirds or so lay out the driving, fascinating ‘what the hell is this thing’ mystery lined with all manner of juicy body horror and drama—yet the core high-concept premise is laid out almost immediately, you know what's at stake. The last third… escalates.

It’s full of the usual meaty Seth themes, iterating on the ideas first laid out in Baru. But it’s a distinct flavour of its own. That escalation is… well, I can’t describe in detail, not while the book isn’t even out, but it’s nuts. Not just for the scale, but for how convincingly it sells concepts that if I described them straightforwardly would sound completely ridiculous.

Equally, it’s a study of a markedly diverse group of characters thrown together from all over the world, each constructed with very evident care and nuance. It goes places that so many writers would probably feel ‘damn, that’s probably way too thorny for someone like me to write about’—and yet somehow, it manages to handle it gracefully each time. Certainly, you can perhaps inevitably tell when Seth is writing from direct experience and when they are (as they used to say back in the ’10s) Writing The Other, if only through what they assume you know and what they need to explain as much as everything—and yet there are always all these telling details (the scientist cursing out R) that make these characters come alive with convincing presence and humour.

(Of course the autistic-ass lesbians are my faves. It’s not as overtly a Lesbian Book as Baru was, but there’s a strong current of gay shit.)

A few other reviewers mention Crichton, but I haven’t read Crichton, so… I’ll have to make other comparisons. But then the thing is it’s very self-aware about existing in the fabric of science fiction. This book is set in our world, not in the near future but the recent past, in the late Obama administration. A lot of the things you might compare it to (including a couple I’ve mentioned, Arrival, Crichton) will be invoked as explicit, in-character allusions as these very sharp, funny, modern people try to make sense of their crazy situation. Sometimes it feels like Tamsyn’s use of memes as texture, but it never gets overbearing. The rhythms of Seth’s prose have been refined by Baru into a powerful suite of devices to make you cackle and go, noooo, Seetttthhhhh…

It’s a fascinating blend of hard-ish scifi, with the big ideas carried by surprisingly accurate higher-mathematical technobabble, and what you could probably best call occultism: narrative and ethics and gods and mythology. Seth always tends to deflect when praised for their ability to hop between a dozen different disciplines and pull them together into one unifying story, saying that they’re just good at looking up summaries, or that they had help from the right people. Maybe so, but it works, it passes the smell test, and Seth’s real genius is their remarkable ability to tie all these big grand ideas back into the world of character and emotion.

Since this is an advance review… I gotta be careful how much I say! Usually I assume you’ve read it if you’re going to and dive straight into the spoilers and long quotes, but here I feel like I should take a little care to avoid describing too precisely the exact beats of the story. (Rest assured I will give it the thorough treatment when it comes out in full).

But, I feel like I want to say something a little more substantial. So here’s a description of the mechanism. If all you want to know is whether you should read this book, hopefully I’ve given you plenty of reasons that the answer is god, yes, do it. If you want to know more, read on.

#baru cormorant #exordia #fiction #sff #seth dickinson #advance review

[olderthannetfic]

As someone who's been wondering why there've been so many senseless, needless arguments online about a hypothetical derth of purity in fiction and how it affects people negatively (it doesn't), now learning from several friends who are teachers (with the oldest being a uni professor) that Gen Z (27-11 yo) and Gen Alpha can't read, have poor media literacy, and soley seek fiction to reaffirm their own worldviews without curiosity and with judgement (and a lot of it). I say this as someone who is Gen Z. I'm only 26 years old, but I'm also a TA right now while I'm in grad school. it's not just the middle school and high school students. College students who should be able to do simple literary analysis cannot. Sure these issues (puritanical thinking, absent/poor parenting, lackluster curriculum, etc) have always existed, but with this in mind, it absolutely makes sense why there's so much dumb discourse over things in media that anyone with sense could separate from reality. Even simple things that you learn in elementary school at 6 years old, like "just because the story is focalized through a specific character, doesn't mean they're correct/the protagonist≠morally righteous/you're not always supposed to agree with the POV character or main characters." Maybe it really is the case that, sure some people are being deliberately obtuse, but there are also others who probably don't know.

I've seen it explained to people in fandom and on tumblr with popular series people have read or seen. No, you're not supposed to think Light Yagami is a good guy or a hero. "L is the straightforward hero in Death Note the whole time" isn't clever. It's the main text. No, you're not supposed to agree with Eren Jaeger or military fascists. "SNK is pro military and pro genocide" is just inaccurate. All the characters exhibiting those traits are killed to signal the flaws in their rhetoric. It's actually really unambiguous in that regard, not at all subtle. No, x shoujo/YA fantasy/Ya romance isn't advocating for middle school or high school girls to date men in their mid-20s. Teen girls have always fantasized about adults they find attractive, and these stories (made for and marketed to teen girls) fulfills that desire while protecting them from the possibility of that reality (an adult returning their feelings). No, it's not weird that mythological gods (but I see people mostly complaining about Greek and Egyptian ones) are related. It's purposeful. They're all related concepts and personifications of nature, which is all connected. Get over yourselves. No, it's not weird that gothic stories have incest in them. It was a common practice among aristocracy and nobility all around them world (so, not just a "white people thing"), and it typically symbolizes the decay as social norms. If you feel discomfort, then the story was successful.

On the one hand, sure. It's purity culture, ignorance, misogyny, etc. On the other hand, do the people who harp on about these actually know how to interpret stories? I'm often told "They can't read" as an explanation by others. I'm starting to think it's true, and I don't know how to combat that as someone who may be an educator down the road myself while also being involved in fandom.

--

I'd say it's about 50/50 the usual The Kids These Days scaremongering and a genuine shift.

Reading comprehension can be taught. I was taught to analyze passages in school. Students have to be open to learning, but it's not like some critical language thing you need to absorb before the age of two: a college student who's actually interested in getting better can perfectly well do so, possibly with some help or possibly just with experience.

Plenty of it is anxiety about being wrong and immoral and hurting people too. It's fundie thinking where listening and engaging means capitulating. Lots of people do slowly get over this. Many will calm down about it if they ever get the anxiety meds they so desperately need. Some would probably benefit from ceasing to self harm via social media doomscrolling or exclusively consuming attention span-destroying, FOMO-inducing garbage.

...I say as I answer tumblr asks instead of getting out of bed to start my New Year's resolutions.