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jakegooglyeyes · 2 months ago

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Naiad - 2/3

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Pairing: Centaur!Jake x Nymph!reader (f)

A centaur has fallen in love with a naiad for a very long time. He deems himself too brutish to be near you, satisfied with watching you from a distance. Until one day, he hears the river goddess cries out for you, her child who was taken by humans.

Word count: 2000

Warning: very mild sexual content (the true warning is there is no actual smut)

Tagged: @gyllenhaalstories

Divider: @/firefly-graphics

Minor DNI

Jake helps you to your feet when the first glimmer of the sun pours through the cave's entrance.

In the light of day, you are able to fully take in the features of your rescuer. You have never been in such so close to a man before, even spending the entire night in his arms. You marvel at the shimmering blue in his eyes, reminding of the ponds you and your sisters spend days frolicking in. The centaur is reasonably good-looking, but the dark layer of hair covering his chest gives him a feral feeling not too far from his nature.

He bends down to let you climb on his back. As much as he would love to have you in his arms, it would be uncomfortable for you to be carried like that all the time. Moreover, he needs these hands for the bow, just in case the humans return.

With you riding on his back, holding on to his quiver's strap like a rein, he traverses the path around the hill until the sun is high. You watch as the dense, emerald foliage gradually thins, giving way to vibrant meadows dotted with wildflowers and shrubberies. Every now and then, a small critter dart away, startled by the sounds of heavy hooves.

He stops by a small creek and lets you rest under a tree while he goes and fetches fresh water from nearby. You express your gratitude with a nod and take a sip from the waterskin. The air becomes warmer as the sun is almost right above your head.

You wiggle your toes, noticing the throbbing in the wound is less intense than it was yesterday. The sparkling, inviting stream looks very tempting. Naiads are creatures born from water and are not fond of being under the heat of the sun for too long.

As long as you don't walk too fast, it's probably fine to take a few steps.

Noticing you looking around to find support, Jake winces, fearing your injuries might worsen, before realizing you are trying to get to the water. He scoops you up, completely disregarding your insistence that you can walk, and carries you to where you want to be. Even when he understands your protest, the centaur is not going to let your wounded feet touch the ground.

You are lowered into the water, body tingling with excitement as the coolness envelops your toes, your ankles, then your calves and thighs. Although the water is quite shallow, it's adequate. You decide to shed the fur cloak before soaking yourself. Besides, you have never been used to covering your body.

Bending your knees, you submerge yourself to the waist and allow the chill to ease your sores and weariness. Your hands glide through the water, breaking the stillness and sending ripples across the surface. The twinkling droplets splashing on your face and chest not only stir the tranquility of the creek but also the heart of someone busy tightening his bowstring.

The centaur's weapon nearly falls from his grasp as his eyes catch you, mesmerized by your playful gesture and the rivulets rolling down your bare skin.

He indeed had you in his arms during the night before. But the urgency of your predicament and the darkness suppressed most indecent thoughts. And before that, he has only seen you from far away, stealing fleeting glances of you by the river.

His eyes open wide, unable to escape your uncovered breasts glistening in the morning light. The protrusion in his throat moves up and down as he focuses on the tiny buds peeking through the stray strands of hair clinging to your damp skin.

His blood rages and growls, urging his beastly nature to take hold of you, kneading and pinching your breasts until you weep.

Or maybe he would gently kiss them with utmost devotion, cherishing them like a zealot would worship their gods, begging you to bestow your blessing on him over and over.

The centaur traces his gaze down your belly, as if your body hypnotizes him to do so. His eyes are drawn to the place between your thighs, barely obscured by the crystal-clear water. His mind is flooded with unspeakable images, all of which you writhe and moan under him.

A voice is telling him he can take you right here and, once the deed is done, bring you back to his den, never letting you go. His, forever.

As you turn to look at him, a look of terror washes over his face. As if it was the Goddess of the Hunt, Artemis herself caught him staring and was about to dole out punishment for his insolence.

The centaur, terrified by his own thoughts and afraid he might harm you, abruptly turns his back, leaving you bewildered by his sudden surge of panic. His face twists like he has just swallowed a fly as he prances away to hide behind a large tree.

Worried, you leave the water and take small steps toward the centaur to see if something is troubling him.

He peeks from behind the barrier, grimacing as he doesn't want to let your feet exhaust themselves. But in his current state, the centaur only wants the ground to open and bury him alive. He'd rather allow Hades to take him to the underworld than let you see him in his disgraced state. Let him be condemned for eternity in the abyss of Tartarus for his perversion.

Come here.

You beckon as you close the distance between you and Jake.

The stubborn centaur keeps circling the tree trunk as you walk around, trying to catch up to him. Seeing that he is not injured, you are relieved. The little silly chase almost reminds you of the lighthearted game you often played with your sisters.

Your injured feet hampered your steps and you keep finding yourself lagging behind him. Though, you suspect even if you are not hurt, your two limbs probably couldn't match his four, in terms of speed.

Eventually, he relents as he cannot bear seeing your wound worsen because of this foolish antics. He comes out from behind the tree, towering before you.

You stand opposite the centaur. His head hung low, avoiding your eyes, his impressive form stiff as his chest rises and falls with each ragged breath.

"Please don't look."

As you approach the centaur, the tremor in his voice, a low, anxious rumble.

The moment you spot his rigid manhood, jutting out between his hind legs, it's quite clear he's in a state of arousal. Jake shuffles backward, his eyes darting nervously, desperately trying to keep it hidden from you.

"It's unsightly. You should not dirty your eyes."

More words you can't understand. But he sounds unease.

It would be a lie to say you weren't startled by the sight of his erection. It's large and beastly. And as innocent and naïve as you are, the answer slowly dawns on you.

The deep longing in his eyes, the yearning in his voice drip out even when your skin is not in contact.

You are the object of his desire.

Your kind is no stranger to the lust of both gods and men. It can be a blessing or a curse, more often than not the latter.

You have heard frightening stories from your sisters about nymphs snatched away by those driven by the lust for them. Even you had the misfortune of almost being kidnapped by humans. You should be scared and disgusted, but oddly enough, you do not find him or his display of virility revolting. On the contrary, a strange but not unpleasant thrill swirls in the pit of your stomach.

The centaur's hooves are glued in place as he curses Eros in his head a thousand times. He's convinced that you'd be furious with him. Countless thoughts are racing through his head, but no word comes out. Jake wants to run away, but he is still wise enough to know he cannot leave you here by yourself. He wishes to explain, but what can he possibly say? The centaur looms over you, yet he feels as though he was an ant beneath the sole of your feet.

I do not hate you.

A warm touch skims the fur on his side. His muscles tense under your touch as your hand moves in circles over his sleek, dark brown coat. You would have stroked his flushed cheeks, but his face is too far out of reach.

Your eyes meet. He cannot find any hatred or fear. Your eyes are just a serene lake that his pitiful soul drowns in.

Only instead of dousing his fire, the water fuels it to burn even hotter.

"Forgive me."

He only manages to muster those words before picking you up by the waist with both of his powerful arms. Your chest presses into his, and now you at his eyes' level. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his throat dry as he feels your damp skin on his.

When you tilt your head quizzically, your lips feel the warm brush of his thumb. He looks you straight in the eyes with a newfound resolute.

"May I?" His tone lifts, expressing a question. Or, perhaps, an attempt to seek for permission.

Instinctively, you nod and smile shyly. Jake responds by closing the gap between you and him. He presses his cool, dry lips into yours, memorizing your softness and warmth. The scratchy stubble on his face tickles you, making you giggle around his mouth.

Your reciprocation emboldens him. He begins sucking on your lips with enthusiasm, feeling your breathing become messy and your body squirming.

So lost in the passionate kiss, you do not realize he has brought you to a large rock near the stream. Centuries of wind and rain have filed the rock's face into a smooth surface. Whatever nooks left are filled with dark green moss that is cool and soft against your skin.

He pulls away, his lips lingering just above yours as he watches you catching your breath.

Jake carefully lowers himself and lets you lie comfortably on the boulder. He wastes no time before covering your lips with his once more, sending a rush of excitement through your body. The centaur's kisses grew more intense, coaxing you to part your lips for him. His calloused hands gently cradle your face as his warm, wet tongue slowly explores every crevice of your mouth.

His sudden hunger makes your thighs quiver, and you involuntarily let out a soft moan. Your keen voice rouses something deep within the centaur. He utters a quiet curse under his breath before parting from you.

"My heart." He whispers, loathing the language barrier between you more than ever.

The surge of joy and despair bubbling at the tips of your fingers as they rest on his chest. His raw emotions overwhelm you, making you recoil. The centaur falters, unable to ignore your wide-eyed stare and your withdrawn hand which you have brought close to your chest. Were it your intention or not, in his eyes, it appears as though he has frightened you.

At that moment, he looks… hurt.

Reaching out, you cup his face in your hand, trying to soothe him, and he returns your gesture by burying his nose in your palm, planting little kisses.

"No, I shall not defile you like this." He leans down, his breath warm against your ear as his eyelashes flutter. He sounds almost breathless. "I can't lay with you, not until I have the gods' blessing."

The warmth of his steadfast hands fades from your sides, leaving an empty feeling in their absence and a yearning you can't quite name.

The centaur stands up and gallops��his way to the stream, submerging his head into the water in an awkward bend and showing you his back. You sit there, dumbfounded, staring at his round and firm backside, which you suddenly have the urge to slap.

He takes what feels like hours until the chill of the water helps him calm down.

After that, Jake acts like nothing happened for the rest of the day. He continues carrying you on his back, traveling the hillside path, straining his ears to for any signs of the humans, moving as fast as mortally possible to bring you back home.

His exterior appears calm and collected, and yet, the turmoil beneath his skin never fades.

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #centaur!jake x nymph!reader #cw: rpf #nat writes #fic: naiad #fics

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minty-mythos · 2 months ago

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Bull Horns and Webbed Hands (Ch. 2)

Summary: Since Percy became an instructor at camp, he knew first hand how stressful is was to be in charge of the health and safety of over a hundred demigods. Which was why he offered to travel to Olympus in Chiron's place to give the Olympians the monthly camp status report. All he had wanted to do was give Chiron the day off.

He hadn't planned for anything exciting happening. He certainly hadn't planned on accidentally adopting the Ophiotaurus while he was there. As usual, nothing ever goes as planned for Percy Jackson.

(Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Read on AO3)

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The doors of the throne room swung shut firmly behind Percy, cutting off all sound from within. He was left with only the distant sounds of the city below and the excited sounds Bessie was making.

The throne room’s doors were placed at the tops of a wide step for marble stairs that led down to a wide road paved in gleaming white and gold. The road led to the main part of the main part of the city, where all the shops, parks, and homes for minor godlings and nature spirits were located, but the throne room of the Olympians was isolated, with only buildings near it being the Olympians’ main temples. The temples functioned as the Olympians’ main places of worship on the mountain, as well as their personal living quarters for when they were in Olympus. Each temple was as grand as the last, which always made Percy roll his eyes slightly at the grandeur.

The effect was stunning, if a bit dramatic. The throne room and temples shone like a beacon of light above the rest of the city. They loomed, ever-present, reminding all inhabitants who the rulers of this city truly were.

Percy had always thought it was a bit overkill, but Bessie was looking around in awe at the gigantic buildings. Percy realized that the kid must not have seen Olympus before, or had only gotten a very brief glimpse of it. The whole time the kid had been on the mountain, he’d been locked away in the throne room. If Percy had been the one in that situation, he knew he’d have gone stir-crazy within the first day.

His heart panged with sadness for the kid. Hephestus and Poseidon had collaborated to make him a large tank that sat off to the side of the throne room, which was nicely decorated with underwater plants and small structures for the Ophiotuarus to hide in, but It still must have been cramped.

A small part of Percy wanted to take Bessie to see everything Olympus had to offer. There were many lakes, rivers, and streams on the mountain that were beautifully maintained by the nymphs and naiads living in the city. Percy loved to explore them when he had spare time on the mountain, and he would bet Bessie would love them too. The gills on his neck told Percy he would be just as comfortable underwater as he was above, after all.

But Percy would never forgive himself if Bessie was harmed, even accidentally. (Also, the gods had made it clear they expected him to look after and protect Bessie until they called for the two of them to return to the throne room. If anything happened to the boy, he knew he would be blamed for it.)

The safest place for them to go now would be his father’s main temple. Even if the council decided to destroy Bessie, they would be unable to enter Poseidon’s temple without his permission. (It was a rare day when Percy was actually thankful for the ancient laws. This was one of them.) They’d be safest there.

Thankfully, his dad’s temple wasn’t very far from the throne room. Percy hurried past the looming white marble of Zeus’ and Hera’s grand temples, down to where his father’s was situated, facing Hestia’s across the way.

The building was just as grand as the king and queen’s, but something about it felt far more welcoming to Percy. From what he’d heard from other demigods, it was normal to feel that sort of draw to your godly parent’s shrines. The buildings were shrouded in an aura of sorts, radiating the god’s energy so strongly it drew their children in, not dissimilar to their respective cabins at camp did.

Poseidon’s temple was made of rough gray and black stone, perpetually wet as if it were sitting on the shoreline and being drenched in the sea’s spray. Colorful coral in greens and golds grew out of the stone, and little fish swam through the air, weaving through the towering pillars that lined the front of the building.

Bessie was still wiggling- Percy was getting the impression it would be hard to get the boy to ever stop moving- and it only seemed to intensify when he caught sight of the fish’s scales flashing in the sunlight.

“I wanna see!”

Percy tightened his grip just a little bit more to ensure Bessie couldn't escape his arms. “There’s more fish inside. A whole room with fish in it, it’s awesome.” He grinned at Bessie, because it was awesome. The fact that he was also trying to distract Bessie and avoid the pout that the kid was sending his way was irrelevant. His promises of more and better fish worked, and Bessie was now laser-focused on getting inside the building.

As they started up the steps to the temple, Percy felt his father’s presence. Poseidon’s attention was like an unrelenting wave as it swirled around them. It felt affectionate as it always was when aimed at Percy, but the god was also clearly distracted like he was focusing intently on something else. Most likely the debate no doubt raging inside the throne room. The presence was gone a split second later.

Even without his dad’s direct attention, the feeling of the ocean’s embrace made Percy relax as he stepped over the open threshold to the temple’s interior.

The main public room of the temple was grand, with towering marble pillars, statues of Poseidon and his godly family, and murals depicting his father’s myths. Fountains of both fresh and saltwater spouted from the walls, gathering in small pools set into the floor.

A ginormous waterfall covered the back wall of the room, appearing from nowhere as if spouting directly from the solid rock ceiling, and disappearing the second it hit the floor. The spray from the water filled the entire temple with a heavy mist of water and the pure scent of ocean brine.

The entire room was dim, with the only light coming from softly glowing pearls the size of basketballs mounted on the walls, and a large hearth directly in front of the temple’s entrance.

Any other mortal would’ve barely been able to see in the gloom, but Percy had never had any trouble seeing in the dark. It was a perk of being a child of the sea god. Percy was perfectly adapted to surviving in the depths of the ocean, and since no sunlight reached that far he had no difficulty seeing in the dark. Bessie didn’t seem concerned by the dark either, which also made sense as he had originally been a sea creature too.

This was where the citizens of the mountain came to worship Poseidon. It was probably the largest of his father’s temples that was still actively used. (Unless there was an even bigger one in Atlantis, which wouldn’t surprise Percy.)

Percy had been here before a few times, during solstice celebrations when demigods were officially welcomed onto the mountain, and then once after the battle of Manhattan. He’d never been here without his dad though, and anyone who’d been in the temple before Poseidon entered always fled before the pair got inside, so Percy had never seen anyone else there.

This time, Percy didn’t have the presence of one of the most powerful gods in the pantheon to scare off the worshippers.

Percy stopped in his tracks momentarily at the sight of a small group of nymphs who were all holding water jugs, with the last of them filing their jug at one of the freshwater fountains. His presence immediately drew the group’s attention. They giggled amongst themselves at the sight of him, gathering closer together to whisper.

The sound of the waterfall drowned out what they were saying, but it was clear they were talking about him. Percy sighed internally. He was used to drawing attention to Olympus by now. The very first time he’d visited the mountain, people had bowed to him in the streets in thanks for stopping a war. People’s reactions to him hadn’t gotten better after that.

He’d been hoping the temple would be empty, but wasn't surprised he wasn't that lucky. Thankfully, Percy knew he was allowed to enter his father’s private rooms which were tucked away at the back of the temple. That area was strictly off-limits to everyone except those Poseidon had personally invited. Though Percy had never been there without his father, the god had made it clear Percy would be welcome any time he wished to visit. They’d be able to find some privacy there.

“Hello!”

Percy twitched at Bessie’s greeting to the nymphs that rang through the temple, not having expected the child to speak. The sound broke the respectful quiet. The nature spirits looked equally shocked, all of them whipping around to stare at him, apparently only now noticing the small child he held in his arms.

There was a moment of silence as the nymphs took in the sight, until one of them set down her water jug and stepped forward to the front of the group.

She looked middle-aged by mortal standards, with smile lines creasing the corners of her eyes. It made her the oldest of the group based on appearance, though that meant very little for nature spirits. Her skin was tinted slightly green, and her moss-green hair was bound up in a delicate silver hairnet. Her long skirts rustled as she offered a bow in his direction.

She looked slightly familiar, and Percy was fairly sure he’d seen her around camp occasionally. What was her name? Otonia? That sounded right.

“Forgive us, our prince,” she said softly, head still bowed. Percy bit his tongue to hold back his objection to the title. He was, unfortunately, used to his father’s subjects calling him a prince after his time spent in Atlantis. He couldn’t get too upset, since they weren’t technically wrong. He was the son of a king, a bastard though he was.

“We did not know you were coming. We will leave you now.”

“It’s alright, Otonia, there’s no need for that,” Percy said. Her head shot up and she looked at him with wide eyes. One of the nymphs behind her covered her mouth to muffle a soft involuntary gasp, as if they were shocked he remembered her name.

At least that’s what he hoped. There was always the possibility he’d just confidently called her by the wrong name, but that fear was quickly assuaged, as Otonia relaxed and her wide-eyed look melted into a small smile. She straightened up and moved to pick up the jug she had set on the floor.

“It’s no trouble, my prince, we were just finishing up anyways.”

Percy didn’t protest that, since from what he could see they had nearly finished collecting the purifying water from the wells when he’d entered. The rest of the nymphs followed Otonia’s lead, scooping up their jugs and following her out of the temple.

Percy stepped out of their way as they drew near, and they inclined their heads respectfully as they passed. Bessie waved at them, still safely tucked into Percy’s arms, eliciting several coos of delight as the nymphs waved back. Soon they were out the door, leaving Percy and Bessie alone in the temple.

There was a moment of silence before the nymphs incorrectly decided they were far enough away to be out of Percy’s hearing range and broke out into excited chatter.

“Did you see-”

“-cute little thing-”

“He knew your name-!”

Then a single voice rose above the rest of them in an excited squeal. “Our lord has a new godling?”

That… wasn’t at all what was happening, but in retrospect, it was an understandable conclusion to draw if you didn’t know what was going on.

Honestly, if Percy hadn't been there when Bessie had first shifted, he might’ve also thought his father had sired another demigod. The confusion was understandable; Bessie looked a lot like Percy, which meant he looked a lot like Poseidon, and as a sea creature, his magic would also feel more similar to Poseidon's than any other god. And though it was rare, it wasn’t unheard of for demigods to have nonhuman traits, so Bessie's horns wouldn’t have raised any questions. (Nico was one such example, with his black ram horns. The Stoll brothers were another, with small white feathered wings that fluttered at their ankles.)

“But they look so much like Perseus! Are we sure the child isn’t his?”

There was a pause as the other nymphs considered this before he heard Otonia speak. Her tone wasn’t exactly sharp, but it was reproachful. “No, of course not, we would have heard about it before if the little prince had sired a child. This isn’t the place for this discussion, anyway.” The group erupted into more giggles which faded as they moved further away from the temple, until they were too far away to hear.

Percy heaved a sigh.

This was just great. Even more confirmation that even though it had been years since the wars, his life was still a hot topic of gossip on Olympus. He wondered how quickly news of this would sweep through the mountain and beyond.

“Where’s the fish?” Bessie’s curious inquiry split the quiet of the temple. Percy forcefully pushed the thought of the gossiping nymphs from his mind, and walked toward the waterfall in the back of the temple.

“Just over here.” Percy offered him a grin, nodding in the direction of the waterfall. Bessie gave the wall of water a suspicious look, clearly dubious when met with the sight of no fish.

Percy stepped right up to the falling water, unbothered by the saltwater spray. He reached his hand through the water, pressing it firmly against the stone wall hidden behind it. As soon as his hand touched the stone, his father’s presence returned. It was slightly more forceful than before, carrying a warning for those who shouldn’t be meddling where they weren’t welcome. Bessie whimpered slightly, pressing tighter against Percy’s chest. He could clearly feel the sea gods’ displeasure as well.

But as soon as Poseidon’s attention brushed over Percy and Bessie, recognition sparked, and the feeling gentled once again. Up at the top of the waterfall, the flow of water split. The gap in the water opened further, slowly revealing a pair of large double doors set into the dark stone of the back wall. Apparently distracted from his fear, Bessie let out a small awed noise, reaching out to touch the shifting water.

The hidden doors were god-sized, easily thirty feet tall. They were too large for any mortal to open, and Percy knew he wouldn’t be able to move them, no matter how hard he shoved them.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to open them. The doors swing open under his touch as easily as he would open any normal door.

“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured as he entered the god’s private rooms. There was a sensation like his hair was being ruffled by an invisible hand as Percy stepped through the doors. They swung shut behind him and then his father’s presence was gone once more.

The area they had entered was the most public-facing of Poseidon’s living quarters. It was a family room, so to speak, where Poseidon could entertain any guests he chose to allow entrance. There were several doorways leading off into separate rooms on each wall, some of which Percy knew led to the private chambers for Poseidon and his wife, and some of which led to guest rooms.

Percy himself had spent the night after the battle of Manhattan in one of them. After the mess with Rachel becoming the oracle had been sorted out, his father had rather forcefully insisted that Percy spend the night where Poseidon could keep an eye on him. Percy hadn’t complained, still being too exhausted from his fight against Luke and Kronos to protest too much at the time. In the end, he was glad he hadn’t refused, as the night spent sleeping in his father’s temple had ended up being one of the most peaceful nights of rest he’d ever had in his life. The knowledge that his father was looking over him had been a new feeling, but it had led to him getting a deeper sleep than he could have managed anywhere else that night.

Now though, Percy didn’t head toward any of those doorways. Instead, he headed towards the main focal point of the room, a large pool set into the floor of the room. It was probably larger than an Olympic-sized swimming pool and took up most of the floor space.

There was also a small seating area with lounges and chairs off to the side in case Poseidon needed to entertain anyone who wasn’t comfortable with being underwater, but it was clearly an afterthought. Percy knew from experience that the most comfortable seating area was in the pool.

Bessie pointed at the water, giving him a curious look. “Fish?”

“Yeah, buddy.” Percy grinned. “Fish!”

With confident strides, Percy walked straight over the surface of the pool. Once he was a few feet away from the ledge, he let himself drop down, submerging both of them in an instant.

Immediately, Percy’s senses expanded. He could feel every inch of the pool and every minute temperature change and tiny current that ran through it.

Because there were currents, even though there were no jets or anything that should have been needed to form a current in a stagnant pool like this, the water felt fresh and alive. It swirled around him as his senses reached out to meet it.

The pool was deep. So deep that they sank for a good minute before they finally stopped, touching down on the soft sand lining the bottom of the pool. It was even darker here, all ambient light from the upper room depleted before it could reach them. The only hint of light came from a nearby jellyfish, which was the size of a small horse and glowed a soft pink. The glow wasn’t even enough to light up the group a few feet below it, but still, neither of them had any difficulty seeing.

If Percy didn’t know any better, he would have thought he’d been transported to the sea floor. It looked like they were truly at the bottom of the ocean, with soft sand beneath their feet and rocky outcroppings popping up irregularly. Corals of all shades and shapes surrounded them, forming a beautiful riot of colors. A shoal of fish swam by, and a few crabs scuttled away from where they had landed, surprised by their sudden appearance.

Most of the animals ignored them, but a few came up to greet Percy, bumping into him happily.

Little snippets of their thoughts entered his mind. Fish as small as these didn’t have the same level of sentience as hippocampi, whales, dolphins, or other large animals did, so Percy couldn’t pick up any complete thoughts, but they still filled his mind with a small chorus of “little-lord-hello-prince-hello-hello!”

Bessie made a soft mooing noise in excitement- which tugged on Percy’s heartstrings way too effectively in his opinion, who gave him the right to sound so cute- and wiggled out of Percy's arms. Percy finally let the boy go, knowing he wouldn't come to any harm or get lost here.

Then, there came an unexpected flash of light, and Bessie was no more. Or rather, Bessie the human was no more, and in his place now swam a bull calf with a serpent's tail instead of hindlimbs.

Percy’s immediate reaction was panic. Was Bessie going to turn back into animal form every time he was in the water? Was he only able to stay human for a short amount of time? Had this been a one-off fluke, and Bessie was now forever going to be stuck in his creature form, unable to turn back again?

Percy’s noise of panic must have alerted Bessie something was wrong, because the small creature swam back around to his side, nudging against his shoulder with a soft black nose.

Percy sighed shakily, trying his best to push away his panic and all the horrible scenarios that had flooded his mind. Bessie didn’t seem in distress, so Percy tried to reel in his emotions before he scared the boy. Creature. Whatever Bessie was.

“Bessie-” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Bessie, can you turn back into a human?”

Bessie mooed, then in another golden flash, there was a human boy floating next to him, big brown eyes looking at him curiously from a thankfully human face.

“Why?” the boy asked, not noticing Percy’s relieved slump.

“Nothing!“ Percy said, trying his best to ignore the fading anxiety the scare had given him. ”It just startled me, that's all. Why did you change back?”

Bessie looked at Percy and cocked his head slightly with furrowed brows.

“It’s easier to swim with a tail.” Bessie finally answered, with an exasperated inflection, as if to ask ‘Are you stupid?’ It was a scarily familiar tone of voice, one Percy himself made semi-regularly.

Internally, Percy wasn’t sure if he should be proud that Bessie was mastering such sass so early, or feel a dawning horror at the fact that he was now in charge of a boy who seemed to mirror him in so many ways. He knew he wasn’t easy to deal with as a child for several reasons, not least because he was so sarcastic and blunt. He knew he was still a pain for anyone who claimed to hold authority over him, as he wasn’t afraid to point out when they were acting like idiots. (At this point in his life most of the people who claimed to hold any authority over him were mainly gods, but…)

“Oh.” Well, it made sense, Percy supposed. There was a reason the Merpeople of his father’s kingdom had tails instead of legs. “Is it difficult to hold on to your human shape at all?”

“Not really,” Bessie answered, but then paused and sheepishly admitted, “Maybe it does make me a little tired.”

”Alright, thank you for letting me know.” Percy said, which made Bessie perk up and beam at the praise.

“One more question, then you can go back to the fish, okay?” Bessie nodded seriously.

“Your human form, did you choose what you looked like, or was that… automatic? Because it looks a lot like me.” Percy blushed a bit at having finally asked the question that had been lurking quietly in the back of his mind since he’d first seen Bessie.

Bessie shrank back a little and started to play shyly with one of his curls, which were floating freely in the water.

“I’m not upset by it,” Percy assured him. “I’m just curious.”

“It’s mostly just what I looked like,” Bessie mumbled, not making eye contact. Percy raised an eyebrow at him, and Bessie continued after a pause, clearly reluctant. “But… I knew I already looked a lot like you. And I like you!” That part was said eagerly, as if to reassure him. “So… I decided to change it. Just a little bit so I would look even more like you.”

He was mumbling so quietly by the time he finished that Percy could only barely make out what he was saying. His small voice melted Percy’s heart even further, and he really wasn’t sure what to do with all the new emotions that were swirling through him.

After a moment, Bessie peeked out from behind his bangs to check Percy’s reaction to what he had just said. Percy, who could barely contain the swell of affection at the sight of Bessie’s shy expression, ruffled the boy’s curly hair until it was floating unruly in the water.

“Alright, kid, you can go back to playing with the fish now.“ he smiled as Bessie perked up, clearly forgetting his momentary shyness, and rushed off towards the nearby shoal of fish, which scattered at his approach.

Percy nodded wordlessly, letting Bessie swim off. As Percy half expected, there was another flash of light, and Bessie was once again back in his calf form.

The Ophiotaurus did a twirl in the water, flipping around as if to regain familiarity with his fins and hooves, before shooting off to explore.

Percy followed Bessie around the pool dutifully for at least an hour, watching as the boy explored every corner and crevasse, and examined every creature. He seemed to have a fondness for the giant bioluminescent jellyfish and kept herding the creatures over towards Percy as if to allow him to enjoy the glow too. It brought a smile to Percy’s face every time the calf did it, and he half suspected that was why Bessie kept doing it.

Eventually, the pair of them ended up in the center of the pool, where the main sitting area was. The chairs were a bit different from the ones on the surface, being made in common Atlantian styles. Bessie ended up landing on a large fluffy white sphere that slightly deflated under his weight, which honestly reminded Percy of mortal bean bag chairs. There was another flash of light, and Bessie reappeared as a human boy, lying face down in the puff.

Percy heard a yawn as the kid relaxed even further into puff before he stopped moving. He was clearly still awake, but his breathing was already starting to slow. Percy remembered what Bessie had said about holding his human form making him feel tired, and also that this was, for all intents and purposes, a four-year-old, and four-year-olds need naps.

The puff was large enough for a god to sit comfortably, so there was more than enough room for the human-sized Percy to lay down next to the kid with room in between them. Bessie looked up when he felt the movement of the puff.

“Tired?” Percy asked, suppressing a grin.

Bessie only blinked slowly at him, before wordlessly rolling over, ending up pressed against Percy’s side. Percy tucked Bessie closer to him on instinct, taking up a position all too familiar thanks to Estelle’s habit of making him her favorite napping spot every time he visited his mom’s apartment. The only difference he found was that Bessie was a good deal smaller than Estelle was now, and he had to be careful that Bessie’s horns didn't knock him in the chin for all that they were still small nubs.

Percy ran his hands through Bessie’s wild curl, eventually starting to mindlessly braid it back into a crown style to keep the curls from floating into his face thanks to the underwater currents.

It only took a few more minutes of snuggling before Bessie dropped off to sleep. Percy, a little tired from the day's events and not daring to move less he disturb Bessie, inevitably followed him into Hypnos’ realm.

#mint's fanfiction #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #rrverse #bessie the ophiotaurus #pjo bessie #pjo poseidon #pjo fanfic #fluff #accidental baby acquisition #cuddling #rr verse #good dad poseidon

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paperanddice · 2 months ago

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Eleinomae

Known as marsh nymphs, eleinomae are quite cruel fey. Despite their moniker, they are often found in rivers and similar bodies of water as well as marshes. They are quite a bit more dangerous than the naiads that they share an environment type with, able to bond with larger bodies of water than naiads, and will bully their weaker sisters when they have the opportunity. They will also use the reputation of naiads as more benevolent and friendly to prey on further victims, luring in those who don't recognize the different kinds of fey. Using illusions and charms, they seduce travellers and lead them to their death, working with natural creatures, drawing the victim into water deeper and rougher than they can handle, or using their knives if they must to ensure that their new toy is added to their collection.

Most eleinomae have a graveyard of sorts, a place where the many bodies they've collected float among fields of water lilies. These bodies are the eleinomae's favorites, those who were an entertaining capture, or were particularly beautiful. If you follow the sound of mysterious singing in the marshes, you may find an eleinomae's graveyard as she sings to the dead, though doing so may be the last thing you ever do. These graveyards are often guarded by charmed allies or beasts the eleinomae has persuaded, and she will fight furiously to kill anyone who intrudes upon this territory.

Inspired by the Tome of Beasts 1, another of its murderous, beautiful women. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Eleinomae Creature 5 Medium, Amphibious, Fey, Nymph, Water Perception +11 Languages Common, Elven, Fey, Thalassic Skills Acrobatics +13, Deception +15, Diplomacy +13, Intimidation +13, Performance +15 Str +1, Dex +4, Con +3, Int +2, Wis +2, Cha +4 Aquatic Empathy The eleinomae can ask questions of, receive answers from, and use the Diplomacy skill with animals and plants that have the amphibious or aquatic trait. Items dagger, reed net (×3) AC 23; Fort +14, Ref +15, Will +15 HP 65; Weaknesses cold iron 5 River Dependent An eleinomae is bonded to a river or a section of marshland. If she is more than 300 feet away from it for 24 hours or more, she gains the weak adjustments until she returns. She can perform a 24-hour ritual to bond herself to a new body of water. Speed 25 feet, swim 25 feet Melee dagger +13 (agile, finesse, poison), Damage 1d4+5 piercing plus 1d6 poison Primal Innate Spells DC 23 ; 5th illusory scene; 4th mirage, suggestion (×3); 1st charm (×3); cantrips (3rd) figment, light Reed Net [1 action] Requirements The eleinomae is holding a reed net in two hands; Effect The eleinomae hurls her net to hamper a foe. She makes a ranged Strike (with a +13 modifier) against a Medium or smaller creature within 20 feet. On a hit, the target is flat-footed, takes a –10‑foot circumstance penalty to its Speeds, and is stupified 1. On a critical hit, the creature is instead restrained and stupified 3. The DC to Escape the net is 19. A creature adjacent to the target can Interact with the net to remove it from the target. Reed Walk The eleinomae isn't impeded by difficult terrain caused by undergrowth and water.

13th Age

Eleinomae 3rd level spoiler [humanoid] Initiative: +9 Poisoned Dagger Slice +8 vs. AC – 7 damage. Natural Even Hit: 6 poison damage. R: Reed Net +8 vs. PD (one nearby enemy) – 4 damage and the target takes a -1 penalty to MD (save ends). Natural 14+: The target is stuck and takes a -2 penalty to MD (save ends both). R: Charming Words +8 vs. MD (one nearby enemy) – The target can’t attack the eleinomae (save ends). This effect ends if the eleinomae attacks the target. Natural 14+: The target makes a single basic attack against a target within its range of the eleinomae’s choice. Natural 18+: The save to end the charming words effect is now hard (16+). Limited Use: 2/battle, can’t be used if an enemy is under the effects of this attack. Swimmer. Unfortunate End: If at any point there is only one player remaining in the battle, and they are under the effect of the eleinomae’s charming words, the encounter ends with a campaign failure as that character is brought under the eleinomae’s sway and can’t fight anymore. AC 18 PD 14 MD 17 HP 42

#pathfinder 2e #13th age #homebrew #my homebrew #monster #fey #humanoid #pathfinder level 5 #13th age level 3 #long post #tome of beasts

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rozeliyawashereyall · 7 months ago

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Liya rant let's fucking go

Again! Little reminder Liya is a separate character from me, Roze! I've just been using her a pfp because I didn't have one for ME y'know?— also, there's lot of Greek mythology references but I don't care let me make my OCs in peace goddamit

Basics first—

Her full name is Liya "Minthe" Noor! Hehe

Birthday is on the 29th of October

She/They pronouns

A genderfluid lad :3

She isn't human per se... but a nymph! An underworld water one ^_^ (a Naiad basically–)

Ethnicity is greek-egyptian! Can speak Arabic, English, and Demotic Greek :3 (and just a lil bit of Armenian)

Just a silly gal looking for a home after being cast out by her father

Mbti is INFP-T

Now, Liya Noor.. I have so much lore on them i might need to make a separate post!

Let's get straight to the point~

Minthe can exist anywhere she wants. Whether it be in a different universe, an audio RP (hehe), or in a game. With just a ring of her bell, she'll be teleported there to lurk from the shadows.

The underworld is surrounded by a series of rivers: The Acheron, river of woe. The Cocytus, river of lamentation. The Phlegethon, river of fire. The Styx, river of unbreakable oath. and The Lethe, river of forgetfulness. <- Liya was created by Cocytus, along with her sisters.

Year is 1683

After being assigned to go collect a human soul for the first time, she accidentally fell in love with the mortal land, getting distracted by it. So instead of collecting the soul of the dead human so they could properly pass, they instead started touring around, watching the markets, stage shows, etc. completely forgetting about her mission.

Unfortunately for Minthe, her forgetting to collect the soul caused a..slight troublesome event for the mortals. Since the soul wasn't harvested, the body was still alive despite the heart no longer beating, causing quite a freakout in the city, which led to a lot of crazy theorists rioting and semi still sane people leaving the land.

After her father found out about Minthe's terrible mistake, he cast her out of their home, with a quest on her hands.

"prove you're still worthy to call yourself a child of mine, and you shall return. Fail, and you'll be drowned in the river of Lethe, forever to forget."

The problem was...he never told her what her quest was. He basically just told her to "fuck around, find out, and pray I agree."

A year later. Minthe was travelling along the mortal land in the late 16th century of Scotland, searching for a clue to what her quest was, when she met a woman in her early 20s, her name was Liya.

They befriended each other quite fast! Uh, before Liya was hanged and then burned at the stake for the accusation of being a witch. Yeah, that messed up Minthe up quite a bit.

After that sad event, she named herself Liya, as a little momentum to her friend, and an almost rebellious act towards her father.

Year is 1832

After almost 200 years of pointless searching, Liya finally relented and went back down to the underworld to ask what her quest even was

On her way to the underworld. Liya meets a kitten! A cute, slightly injured one. She takes the feline under her wing, planning to soak the cat in the river of Styx so it'll live an immortal life with her! Just like how Thetis did to her son, Achilles.

Now, walking from the mortal realm to the underworld is a long, long way, taking almost 5 years by just walking. So instead Liya decides to find a shrine of Hermes, to ask him to guide her into the realm of the undead. But after searching and searching, she found all the shrines...but the ones dedicated to Hermes.

In a fit of frustration, she destroyed a shrine dedicated to the goddess of Spring, angering her badly.

In punishment, she cursed them. Killing her feline companion, and making a mint plant grow inside of her stomach. Forcing Liya to endure a century of suffocation from the plant, but never dying of it.

Ah- that's all for now, I'll probably make a part 2 of this one day.

But for now you get this!!

#my art #Liya Noor #oc #lore #my sad loser of a girl #i have no idea where the dividers are from btw #randomly found them deep in my gallery #backstory #OC: Liya Noor

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peachdues · 1 year ago

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Hi peachyyy!!

I do have a bit of questions about netherwood and I was wondewondering if u could take the time to answer!

1-I know that the reader is currently going through it after being attacked by Sanemi,but I found it really hard to read in the part where u described what had happened and how she got injured (mostly bc I’m kind of dyslexic)but could u explain what exactly happened to her?Did he like make a hole in her face?

2-I know u mentioned mitsuri as being not a wolf but something else,I forgot the name lol but can u tell me about if she may play a role in maybe healing the reader a bit?Shinobu is a medic I believe and since that is her mate,will she have any contribution to getting to meet the reader in general?

3-GYOMEIII MY LOVE!!!! anyways..u said that he..raised the boys?Or well atleast some of the pack members,is he one of the older wolves,or is he just like a shapeshifter,I’m not sure if I read a part where u mentioned if he was related to the boys at all,or he just raised them.

Hi my love! Sure, no problem!

✨SPOILERS✨

1. Sanemi clawed reader right down the left side of her face when he burst into werewolf form. He was not aware she was there or what was going on. Genya warned her about getting too close (and it was also hinted at back in part 1), but when she tried to stop Sanemi from shifting and he reflexively shoved her away, it wasn’t back far enough. He shifted and his claw caught her. As a result, she lost an eye. She has four, deep claw marks extending down the left side of her face — so it’s currently half ripped open. This is in addition to the other injuries she sustained from Douma, as well as her two broken hands.

2. Shinobu says Mitsuri is a Naiad — a river nymph, and that’s she’s royalty. That’s all I’m revealing for now! Mitsuri will have a larger role in Part IV.

3. When Sanemi explains what happened to him and Genya when they were cursed, he says Gyomei is the one who found them after their family had been slaughtered. He then took them to the mysterious Master (Mage), who helped seal their curses. Gyomei then raised the boys at least until Sanemi was old enough to take care of himself and Genya on his own.

Only, once Genya hit puberty, he became a bit of a hot head like many teen boys, and Sanemi thought it would be better for Genya to spend more time with Gyomei/live with him until he mellowed out a bit 😂 genya agreed after the shifting-in-the-den incident when he tried to bite Sanemi 😂

Shinobu in Part III refers to both herself and Gyomei as Shifters.

🤍🤍🤍

#🍑’s asks #in the netherwood

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build-a-headmate · 7 months ago

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Name(s): dealer’s choice

Gender(s): ocean / water themed preferably

Orientation(s): dealer’s choice

Pronoun(s): again ocean / water themed if possible

Species(s): dealer’s choice

Age(s): ageless / eternal

Source(s): dealer’s choice

Role(s): host / cohost + some form of holder

thanks for the request!

Name(s) ; Coral , Cattail , Naiad , Wisteria , Lotus , Nymph Gender(s) ; Lilypadic , Swimling , Lexeunderwater , Tropin Orientation(s) ; Sapphic Bisexual Pronoun(s) ; Riv/River , Sea/Seas , Coral/Corals , Wave/Waves , Shore/Shores , Pearl/Pearls Species(s) ; Mermaid / Siren Age(s) ; Ageless Source(s) ; Brainmade Role(s) ; Host , Co-Host , Trauma Holder (water-related trauma) , Delusion Holder (believes sea can breathe under water)

⟡　⌣⌣⌣　**𓄼**　🐺　**𓄹**　⌣⌣⌣　⟡

feel free to take inspo, directly copy, or add on as you see fit! <3

#build a headmate #build a system #pro rq 🌈🍓#build an alter #rq 🌈🍓#rqc🌈🍓#pro radqueer #rq safe #rq please interact #transid #transplural #transsystem

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alatismeni-theitsa · 2 years ago

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Friendly reminder that Apollo hunted Daphne because of Eros. Apollo claimed that his bows were better so Eros punished him by shooting his arrow on Apollo. And unfortunately the first person he witnessed was Daphne.

So yeah it's more complicated that claiming Apollo as r*pist based on one story alone without seeing other sources because for some reason no one mentions how Eros was involved in this.

I searched different passages and only Ovid (never trust this guy xD) tells us specifically that Eros and Apollo's fight was the beginning of this. The rest of the passages for Apollo and Daphne say he just fell in love with her and chased her.

However, for argument's sake, let's see Ovid's case. (But also don't trust Ovid cause he embellished Greek stuff with extra elements for no reason other than spite) I am doing this to clear some stuff about how "eros" worked.

1) All the times Apollo fell in love, including Daphne's case, it was his usual type of love. Eros was always involved when anyone fell in love, and Apollo felt eros (was hit by Eros) many times, judging from how many people he coupled with. All the times he and other figures and all humans fell in love, it was because of Eros. That was the feeling for everyone who fell in love. As you know eros in ancient Greece was considered to be a very powerful force that drove people to do radical things. (and there is the underlying ancient misogyny of "the poor man just couldn't control himself and raped her!") Hence, there is nothing different in how Apollo fell in love with Daphne than the average person and god. And in the context of ancient Greek culture it was expected of him to do radical things because of love.

2) The arrows weren't even "special" arrows. The one that hit Apollo "rouses love" as usual.

Then winging through the air his eager way he stood upon Parnasos' shady peak, and from his quiver's laden armoury he drew two arrows of opposing power, one shaft that rouses love and one that routs it. The first gleams bright with piercing point of gold; the other, cull and blunt is tipped with lead. This one he lodged in Nympha Peneis' [Daphne's] heart; the first he shot to pierce Apollo to the marrow.

3) What about the other woman he chased off a cliff, Bolina? That was also eros. It was eros every time, for all the gods and humans that ever fell in love.

For that reason, I wouldn't compare Apollo's condition to being drugged. I would say that he got out of control, but as much as one was expected to get out of control when in love. The passages speak of average eros and lust. Eros is not a special guy who only hit Apollo and that's it. That's literally how love happened for everyone. Apollo's case is not special here.

I searched the passages here. If you have extra passages for the arrows, let me know!

#answered #apollo #greek mythology #apollo and daphne

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hanjeongrp · 2 years ago

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Welcome to the Nymph’s Spring Revelry!

The Spring Revelry is a week-long celebration held annually in the Mistwood Grove, deep in the heart of the forest. The event is a joyous celebration of the coming of spring and the renewal of life, and is a time when locals and visitors alike come together to revel in the beauty of nature.

As the revelry takes place in the forest, please make sure to follow the rules of the nymphs. Hanjeong Main has no power there.

In-Game Dates: May 6th - May 12th Event Length: May 6th 12:00 PM CST - May 21st 11:59 PM CST

Feel free to participate in as many or as few of the activities as you’d like or create one of your own in honor of the event!

Tag: han.springrevelry

The festival features a variety of events and activities, including music and dance performances, storytelling, arts and crafts workshops, and guided nature walks. Though many can commute to the Mistwood Grove for each event, there is a campsite set up especially for this event for the entire week.

Visitors are encouraged to take part in the celebrations and immerse themselves in the wonder of the forest, whether it's by joining in a lively dance or simply enjoying the sights and sounds of nature around them.

Day 1: Opening Ceremonies

The week-long festival kicks off with an opening ceremony in the Nymph’s Lair, the central meeting place for the nymphs. Visitors will be welcomed by the nymphs and given a tour of the Mistwood Grove, where they will learn about the various flora and fauna of the forest. The highlight of the ceremony will be a dance performance by the naiads under the shimmering Naiad Falls.

Day 2: Forest Exploration Day

Visitors can explore the Mistwood Grove at their leisure. The Sapling Sanctuary will be open for visitors to see the young dryads, and they can even help to plant a sapling (be careful though; don’t want to end up accidentally having a child). There will be guided hikes through the forest led by experienced rangers. Visitors can try to find their way through a maze made of shrubs.

Day 3: Spring Celebration

The spring equinox has just passed, and the Mistwood Grove is bursting with new life. Visitors can take part in rituals celebrating the arrival of spring, such as creating flower crowns, dancing around a maypole, and lighting a bonfire. In the evening, there will be a feast with local cuisine, including honey cakes and flower-infused beverages.

Day 4: Nature Conservation Day

This day is dedicated to nature conservation and education. Visitors can learn about the importance of protecting the Mistwood Grove and its inhabitants. There will be workshops on how to minimize human impact on the environment, such as reducing waste and using eco-friendly products. Visitors can also participate in a litter clean-up of the Mistwood Grove.

Day 5: Naiad Appreciation Day

This day is dedicated to the naiads, the water nymphs who reside in the Mistwood Grove. Visitors can take part in activities such as swimming in the river. There will also be a fishing competition, with prizes for the largest catch. Visitors can learn about the naiads' connection to the water and their role in maintaining the balance of the ecosystem.

Day 6: Dryad Day

This day is dedicated to the dryads, the tree nymphs who reside in the Mistwood Grove. Visitors can learn about the different types of trees and their symbolism in mythology. There will be a tree-planting ceremony, where the new royal family will plant a new sapling. There will also be a craft fair where visitors can purchase handmade items made from natural materials, such as jewelry and figurines. Don’t worry, no dryads were harmed in the making of them.

Day 7: Closing Ceremonies

The week-long festival ends with a closing ceremony at the Nymph’s Lair. The highlight of the ceremony will be a performance by the nymphs, showcasing their unique talents. Visitors can say farewell to the inhabitants of the Mistwood Grove and pledge to return in the future to continue supporting nature conservation.

#han.springfestival #hanevent #krp #kpop rp #krpg

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kore-eleusis · 2 months ago

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In Roman mythology, Dea Tacita ("the silent goddess") also known as Dea Muta or Muta Tacita, was a goddess of the dead.[1][2][3] Ovid's Fasti includes a passage describing a rite propitiating Dea Tacita in order to "seal up hostile mouths / and unfriendly tongue" at Feralia on 21 February.[4][5] Dea Tacita is the same as the naiad Larunda.[6][7] According to Ovid this occurred because Dea Tacita had her tongue ripped off by Jupiter. Jupiter was angry with her because she told the nymph Juturna to flee from him because he planned to rape her.[8] In this guise, Dea Tacita was worshipped at a festival called Larentalia on 23 December.[9] Goddesses Mutae Tacitae were invoked to destroy a hated person: in an inscription from Cambodunum in Raetia, someone asks "ut mutus sit Quartus" and "erret fugiens ut mus"[10] ("that Quartus be mute" and that he "wander, fleeing, like a mouse").[11]Plutarch, who described Tacita as a Muse, states that Numa Pompilius credited Tacita for his oracular insight and taught the Romans to worship her.[12]

Larunda (also Larunde, Laranda, Lara) was a naiad nymph, daughter of the river Almo and mother of the Lares Compitalici, guardians of the crossroads and the city of Rome. In Ovid's Fasti she is named Lara.[1]

Myth

See also: Mother of the Lares

The only known mythography attached to Larunda is little, late and poetic, in Ovid's Fasti. Ovid names her Lara, an excessively loquacious river-nymph, daughter of the river-god Almo. Ignoring parental advice to curb her tongue, she betrays Jupiter's secret, adulterous affair with the nymph Juturna, wife of Janus, to his own wife, Juno. Jupiter wrenches out Lara's tongue and orders Mercury, psychopomp and god of boundaries and transitions, to conduct her to the "infernal marshes" of Avernus, the gateway to the Underworld, the dismal realm of Pluto. Along the way, Mercury rapes her, despite her pleading glances. Mute (Latin muta) and silent (Latin tacita), she thus conceives the divine Lares, twin guardians of crossroads and the city of Rome.[1]

Larunda's original name, according to Ovid, was "Lala", imitative of her garulous speech. Robbed of the power of speech, she is likely identical with Muta "the mute one" and Tacita "the silent one": nymphs, minor goddesses or aspects of a single deity with semantic connections to the Lares and perhaps the Lemures as darker forms of Lares.[2][3]

Cult

Ovid expounds this myth of Lara and Mercury in the context the festival of Feralia on February 21,[1] and an informal, secretive women's folk-cult at the same festival, invoking Tacita ("the silent goddess"). The rite is led by "an old hag" who holds seven black beans in her mouth; it has similarities to the exorcism of hostile, vagrant spirits at the Lemuria festival, but is completed when a fish-head is sewn up to "bind hostile tongues to silence". Lara/Larunda is also sometimes associated with Acca Larentia whose feast day was the Larentalia on December 23.[4]

The Mother of the Lares (Latin Mater Larum) has been identified with any of several minor Roman deities. She appears twice in the records of the Arval Brethren as Mater Larum, elsewhere as Mania and Larunda. Ovid calls her Lara, Muta (the speechless one) and Tacita (the silent one).

Lares (/ˈlɛəriːz, ˈleɪriːz/ LAIR-eez, LAY-reez,[1] Latin: [ˈlareːs]; archaic lasēs, singular lar) were guardian deities in ancient Roman religion. Their origin is uncertain; they may have been hero-ancestors, guardians of the hearth, fields, boundaries, or fruitfulness, or an amalgam of these.

Lares were believed to observe, protect, and influence all that happened within the boundaries of their location or function. The statues of domestic Lares were placed at the table during family meals; their presence, cult, and blessing seem to have been required at all important family events.

Roman writers sometimes identify or conflate them with ancestor-deities, domestic Penates, and the hearth.

Because of these associations, Lares are sometimes categorised as household gods, but some had much broader domains. Roadways, seaways, agriculture, livestock, towns, cities, the state, and its military were all under the protection of their particular Lar or Lares. Those who protected local neighbourhoods (vici) were housed in the crossroad shrines (Compitalia), which served as a focus for the religious, social, and political lives of their local, overwhelmingly plebeian communities. Their cult officials included freedmen and slaves, otherwise excluded by status or property qualifications from most administrative and religious offices.

Compared to Rome's major deities, Lares had limited scope and potency, but archaeological and literary evidence attests to their central role in Roman identity and religious life. By analogy, a homeward-bound Roman could be described as returning ad Larem (to the Lar). Despite official bans on non-Christian cults from the late fourth century AD onwards, unofficial cults to Lares persisted until at least the early fifth century AD.

#chthonic #dea tacita #tacita #muta tacita #larunda #lares #ancestor #household gods

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wyrmfedgrave · 9 months ago

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Pics: Nymphs¹ Galore!!

1 thru 3. Ancient Greek Nymphs had a variety of nature based tasks.

They handled wild animals & plants, for holiday worship & sacrifices.

Held rites & religious experiences, like being 'entombed' as part of a rebirth rite.

And prepared herbal medicines for the sick & old.

Basically, ancient wise women - what we now call wiccans.

But, were there real women behind these tasks or, is it just a story?

4. Oread (mountain Nymph)? Or, is she a Hamadryad (tree Nymph)?

5. Is this a Naiad (river Nymph)? A Nereid (sea Nymph)?! Or, Oceanid (ocean Nymph)?!!

6 & 7. Certain trees had Dryads (oak) & Meliae (ash) to attend to them.

But, most known types of tree had its own Nymph, from Aegeirus (poplar) to Suke (fig)...

These were seen as the children of Hamadryas (oak bonded), the Dryad of Mt. Othrys (of the mountain?) in central Greece.

1914: The Work, Part 3.

The 1st paragraphs of this Lovecraft poem is a rerun, in verse, of his introduction.

"Frightful griffins (legends tell), Amid the far Rhipaean dwell. Perched on high peaks, (to) watch the moon, (while) guard(ing) hoards of Hyper- borean gold."

"In vain (do) 1-eyed Arimaspians tr(y) with... might to seize the glittering prize: (Yet) griffins are made from (such) monstrous things, A lion's trunk; (with) eagle's head & wings: What thief can oppose, (Or) in greed face such ferocious foes?"

Now, Howard focuses on a particular, "silly" griffin - who's not thinking about guarding any prized metals!

"Yet 1 there was, who (from this) rugged race, Aspired to a softer, sweeter place."

"With liquid glance² the creature eyed, The... Nymphs that ranged the mountainside³."

"No thought of strengh nor martial deeds he took, And never (did) strive but for a melting look²."

So, he's a peeping creep that's lusting outside of his own race... Will it come back to bite him in the rump?

Notes:

1. Nymphs (young women, brides) are human-like personications of nature.

They are tied to particular fertile places (rivers, forests, etc) or to certain 'living' things (trees, water, etc).

Nymphs can alter their appearance into related natural forms.

They usually attend the Olympian gods & can have children with them.

2. A "liquid glance" is compared to a "melting look."

It's not a tearful eye but, a lustful one.

Yet, the griffin's not committing to any 1 being. It's Nymphs plural, not singular.

Nor is he following a group with a different agenda - his brothers's roughhousing.

The 2 eyes that allowed him to 'appreciate' other creatures - also conspired to blind him to his race's usual pursuits.

There's other doubles to be found here:

Such as the 2-eyed griffin vs the 1-eyed barbarians.

The mythic beast can look at the moon, while it also keeps a wary eye on its riches.

But, the Arimaspians are of a single eye & purpose - to get rich...

The griffin, itself, is an union of 2 bodies - while their enemies are only temporarily joined to their horses.

Yet, even with 2 eyes, the griffin soon errs...

Eyes led astray while he lingered in his rugged ease.

3. These mountainside Nymphs should be Oreades (hill/mountain goddesses).

All mountain Nymphs were children of Hamadryas, the 1st in this line of divinities.

Oreades were followers of Artemis (butcher? stainless maiden?), Greek goddess of the moon.

She loved hunting high up in the raw mountains & rocky cliffs.

Next: Part 4 - The Work Continues.

#hpl bio #hpl poesy #1914: output #history #greco roman myths #hyperborea #griffin

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jakegooglyeyes · 2 months ago

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Naiad - 1/3

This is a shorter series I've written for quite a while. I need a little fluff to help cope with stress. I came up with this solely because Jake is a Sagittarius. Prone to a lot of mistakes because I wrote and edited this sleep-deprived.

Pairing: Centaur!Jake x Nymph!reader (f)

Word count: 2300

Warning: mild violence/gore, butchering of Greek mythology, Jake's self-loathing and mild horny thoughts, repeating the word "gentle" about a thousand times

Tagged: @gyllenhaalstories (as promised)

Minor DNI

Your breath catches in your throat, a ragged gasp as you realize you cannot remember how long you have been running. Exhausted and thirsty, your legs are about to give out, and painful cuts cover your bare feet.

You try to call out to your mother for help, but you have strayed so far away from the river that your voice can no longer reach her. Looking behind, all you can see is towering trees and darkened sky. Crawling into a hollowed tree, you pray to the gods that the humans will not find you here. You are so frightened by the thought of what they will do if they capture you.

Just as the footsteps get closer, you hear a twangling sound of a released bowstring and something sharp piercing through the air. Whoever attacks them must have caught the humans off guard. They scream and curse in words you can not understand as bodies hit the ground one after another. The bowstring sings its song a few more times. The last human let out a pathetic grunt and then, deafening silence.

You cautiously peek out from behind the tree, the stench of blood and smoke hitting you instantly. A gruesome scene lays out in front of you: several bodies sprawl on the ground, arrows protruding from their chests, their faces twist in agony, illuminated by the flickering flames of fallen torches. Judging by their bloodstained clothes and scattered weapons, these dead men were your pursuers a few moments ago. Now they lie still without light in their eyes.

"Are you hurt?"

A rumbling voice calls out from the darkness between the trees and the tall grass.

Startled, you retreat into your hiding spot once more, eyes fixating on the shadow in front of you. You can only make out a tall figure moving through the bushes and hear the sounds of hooves treading on the ground. Your heart pounds with dread. Your legs feel like lead, aching with exhaustion, and even if they could still move, there was no way you could outrun a horse.

"Please, come out. I mean no harm."

The figure comes forward, emerging from the shadows, and into the flickering light of the torches. You realize the sounds were not from a horse. Instead, they belong to one of the centaurs guarding this part of the forest. The chase drove you far from your home, leading you into the dense forest of the beast-men.

You slowly crawl out from the hollow tree, the silence of the forest amplifying every creak and groan of the branches beneath you. You eye the centaur with every bit of caution. Even though he saved you, and there has never been enmity between your kind and his, you cannot trust a stranger, especially one that looks half a human male and half a savaged beast.

"You don't speak the tongue of man?"

You do not understand what the centaur is saying, but you can at least tell there is no hostility in his voice. So you remain still, waiting for his next move. Your eyes are glued to him as your heart thumps loudly in your chest.

He lowers his equine body into a kneeling posture, his muscular legs folding gracefully, to reassure you he is not a threat. Then, his hand reaches out, his fingers gently closing around your ankle in a reassuring squeeze. He carefully assesses your injuries, ensuring his fingers never brush against the open cuts.

"Thank the gods you didn't sprain your ankle, but your feet are still bleeding. Let's get you out of here before more humans come."

As soon as you feel his touch on your skin, thoughts flow into your mind. His genuine intention is apparent, and you can almost feel a sliver of his emotions. It's warm, like a mother's tender embrace, a comforting river enveloping you, yet with an untamed wildness that you have never experienced.

His powerful arms close around you, one supporting your trembling form, the other gently cradling your knees, as he effortlessly lifts you into his broad chest. Feeling safer in his grasp, you cling to him for support, letting the centaur carry you away into the dark.

You think to yourself as you watch his eyelashes flicker in the dim light; they are so long and beautiful, like that of a cow. The short, bristly hairs on his face catch your eye, sparking a bit of curiosity. Mother had said only men grow hair on their faces. His enigmatic charm held you spellbound, making it impossible to look away.

The centaur, unaware of your gaze, moved silently between the trees, the rustle of his hooves the only sound disturbing the forest's silence.

"If the humans purposely chased you away from the river, they might have set up traps in case you try to find your way back. So we must take the long path around the hills to avoid them."

Though his words are a jumble of unfamiliar sounds, his voice has a calming effect, easing your fear-struck mind.

The hands holding you are firm and secure, keeping the sharp branches away from you as he treads through the forest like tracing lines in the palm of his hand. The exhaustion washes over you as you nestle against his chest, his steady breathing comforting you.

The centaur knows that your kind can pick up on the emotions of others through touch, but he is unsure how much you can actually perceive. So he tries to focus on getting you to safety, hoping to suppress his deepest desire enough that it will not disturb you. Never in his life could he imagine being this close to you, let alone being allowed to touch you like this.

For the longest time, he was content with watching you from a distance. He often came by the river where you and your sisters bathe at the heat of noon, shielding himself behind the trees, for the nymphs would vanish at the sight of anything resembling a man. The centaur would spend hours gazing at your naked form as you rest on the mossy stones, eyes unable to tear away from the contour of your body.

He never asked for more, never dared. Seeing you every day was enough to soothe his aching heart.

The goddess' cry for her daughter stirred all the creatures in the forest this morning, including his herd. He raced down to the river bank, every instinct urging him to find out what was going on. He couldn't stand the thought of something terrible happening to you, his mind and soul reeling at the thought.

His heart sank as he scanned the faces of your sisters, unable to find the one he sought.

The human footprints in the dirt, still damp and fresh, guided him along the trail until he found you, fortunately, in the domain of the centaurs.

The gods knew how much he wanted to trample those despicable men, to pulverize their flesh and bones under his hooves, making them pay for thinking they could defile you with their filthy hands. He would have gouged out their eyes, ripped out their tongues, leaving them to suffer a slow, agonizing death, but he held back, wishing to spare you the gruesome sight.

He wouldn't want to frighten you anymore than you already are.

The gentle rocking with each step, the earthy scent of crushed grass, and the warmth of the centaur's embrace lull you into a deep sleep. His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can feel the steady thump of his heart against your ear. It reminds you of the sun's warmth on an afternoon you would spend with your sisters, coming to the shore to pick flowers and watch little creatures foraging.

After some time has passed, you are roused from your slumber by the feeling of the centaur lowering you down on a patch of soft moss. You open your eyes, blinking against whatever light the stars can provide, and see that he has carried you to a small cave, the scent of damp earth filling your nostrils.

The remnants of sleep linger for a moment, but your senses start to fully return.

The memory of being chased by the humans is still fresh in your mind and your body tenses in reaction. He notices your discomfort and kneels down to meet your eyes.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said, his voice low and gentle.

"Please do not be afraid. You need rest, and I need to find something to treat your wound. The humans will not be looking for you this deep into the forest."

You feel his gentle hand stroking your hair and your cheeks. As he drapes his fur cloak around you, the scent of wood smoke and wild musk settles over you, and you feel your fear melt away. He leaves the cave to confirm there are no predators nearby and to allow you some rest.

Time seems to slip away, and when the centaur finally returns, his hooves thudding lightly on the ground as he carries a handful of fragrant herbs with him.

He carefully cradles your feet in his hands, and you can feel the heat of his palms as he works meticulously to treat your wound. The centaur scoops cool water from a nearby creek, gently washing your wounds and soothing the pain. He then secures a clean cloth tightly around them, stopping the flow of blood.

You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, indicating that you are thankful for what he has done for you.

The centaur glances at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours, before he averts them with a hint of shyness. He is not used to being this close to you. He was in a hurry when he carried you here, so he only had enough time to take in a glimpse of you.

He is relieved to see you safe. And now, as his eyes scan your form, he can't help but notice the graceful curves of your body, the very same ones that has haunted his sleep for so many nights. He remembers the times you would appear in his dreams, bare and soft, lazing in his arms, humming your alluring songs.

In those nightly delusions, you would allow him to kiss and caress you, to worship you like his own goddess. Mouth would taste your burning skin, and hands would knead your yielding flesh.

Yet as you sit in front of him now, in person, he feels filthy and unworthy.

His kind has always been wild and violent. Sure, he has shamelessly begged for a favor from Aphrodite. But he was sure the Goddess of Beauty shuns creatures like him.

A delicate touch on the centaur's cheek, soft as a butterfly's wing, pulled him from the depths of his self-loathing. He looks up to see your captivating eyes filled with concern. You must have felt his anguish even though you do not understand what or why.

"Are you trying to comfort me?"

A bitter laugh escapes the centaur's lips. He wants to avoid you, but he cannot. He becomes greedy for your touch, driven by the longing for your affection, even if you are just worried about him because he saved you.

The sorrow you felt begins to fade, replaced by a quiet peace. It's maddening, this inability to communicate with the centaur. You want to thank him and ask him about so many things. But alas, you can only "talk" through gestures and listen to his little thoughts whenever you touch him.

Thank you.

You tell the centaur, hoping he can understand. He seems shocked that you are willing to speak to him.

Your voice fills his head with the most beautiful melody he has ever heard in his life. He would gladly follow, even if you commanded him to plunge into the depths of the underworld or to slay a mighty god. He wants to tell you how much he adores you. His mouth opens and shuts, but no words come out.

"I… Don't worry about me. You must rest. We need to leave in the morning."

After a few words, he fixes the cloak that has slipped off your shoulders before guiding you onto the moss layer. You understand he wants you to sleep.

You shiver in the freezing cold of night, tapping the space next to you, signaling that he is invited to sleep beside you. It will be warmer that way. The centaur's mind wrestles with his heart, reason clashing with desire. The internal struggle is quite clear.

Eventually, he sighs and surrenders. His equine body lowers until he gets into a position where his human half can lie down.

You move your mouth to utter a word, hoping he will understand. Your name. He looks on with disbelief, then delights. He takes your hand and presses it against his chest, letting you feel the raw, beating pulse of his heart beneath his ribs.

"Jacob."

Jake.

"It's Jacob."

Jake.

"It's… Never mind. Jake it is."

You repeat his name, earning a wide grin from him. He does not seem to mind that you decide to shorten his name. Actually, he looks a little too eager, practically bursting with excitement.

He pauses to indulge in the way you look at him before whispering in a hushed voice, not worrying that you do not comprehend his words.

"I swear on my own flesh and blood, I'll let nothing harm you."

The centaur wraps you in his arms. His initial reluctant fades away. When your steady breathing and a slight smile reassure him he did not repulse you, he pulls you into a tight embrace, silently praising Aphrodite and her miracle.

While he knows he is asking for too much, he wishes Eros would spare him from the coarse and unsavory thoughts that were forming in his mind. The golden arrow was painful enough.

The night goes by as you rest snuggly against the centaur's broad chest. You drift off into a sweet dream, comforted by the gentle embrace.

His thoughts are so tender. Though there is something else, deeper, darker, and far more primal. But you are too exhausted to notice.

#jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #centaur!jake x nymph!reader #cw: rpf #nat writes #fic: naiad #fics

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crazycatsiren · 4 years ago

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30 Days of Artemis - Day 6

6. Other related deities and entities associated with Artemis

Artemis's retinue consists of the Amnisiades: 20 Naiad-nymph daughters of the river-god Amninos, along with 60 Okeanides (Oceanids), whose names suggest they were Nephelai (cloud-nymphs), and the Nymphai Hyperboreiai, 3 nymphs of the mythical, far northern realm of Hyperborea named Oupis, Loxo and Hekaerge.

Artemis's twin brother Apollo is perhaps her closest companion.

Persephone is a close companion of Artemis. The two are often together during the months when Persephone is not residing in the Underworld with Hades.

Artemis is very close to her mother, Leto.

Athena was raised alongside Artemis, Persephone, and the maiden Okeanides.

The nine Muses occasionally accompany Artemis in her dance and song (especially during the feasts of Olympos).

The Roman equivalent of Artemis is Diana.

#30 days of artemis #30 days of deity devotion #30 days of devotion #hellenic polytheism #hellenismos #hellenism #hellenic paganism #hellenic pagan #artemis devotee

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alexandreaiteiaabronia · 3 years ago

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Mythology

Early life

According to Apollodorus and a fragment of Pindar, Orpheus' father was Oeagrus, a Thracian king, or, according to another version of the story, the god Apollo. His mother was (1) the muse Calliope, (2) her sister Polymnia, (3) a daughter of Pierus, son of Makednos or (4) lastly of Menippe, daughter of Thamyris. According to Tzetzes, he was from Bisaltia. His birthplace and place of residence was Pimpleia close to the Olympus. Strabo mentions that he lived in Pimpleia. According to the epic poem Argonautica, Pimpleia was the location of Oeagrus' and Calliope's wedding. While living with his mother and her eight beautiful sisters in Parnassus, he met Apollo, who was courting the laughing muse Thalia. Apollo, as the god of music, gave Orpheus a golden lyre and taught him to play it. Orpheus' mother taught him to make verses for singing. He is also said to have studied in Egypt.

Orpheus is said to have established the worship of Hecate in Aegina. In Laconia Orpheus is said to have brought the worship of Demeter Chthonia and that of the Κόρες Σωτείρας (Kóres Sōteíras; 'Saviour Maidens'). Also in Taygetos a wooden image of Orpheus was said to have been kept by Pelasgians in the sanctuary of the Eleusinian Demeter.

According to Diodorus Siculus, Musaeus of Athens was the son of Orpheus.

Adventure as an Argonaut

Main article: Argonautica

The Argonautica (Ἀργοναυτικά) is a Greek epic poem written by Apollonius Rhodius in the 3rd century BC. Orpheus took part in this adventure and used his skills to aid his companions. Chiron told Jason that without the aid of Orpheus, the Argonauts would never be able to pass the Sirens—the same Sirens encountered by Odysseus in Homer's epic poem the Odyssey. The Sirens lived on three small, rocky islands called Sirenum scopuli and sang beautiful songs that enticed sailors to come to them, which resulted in the crashing of their ships into the islands. When Orpheus heard their voices, he drew his lyre and played music that was louder and more beautiful, drowning out the Sirens' bewitching songs. According to 3rd century BC Hellenistic elegiac poet Phanocles, Orpheus loved the young Argonaut Calais, "the son of Boreas, with all his heart, and went often in shaded groves still singing of his desire, nor was his heart at rest. But always, sleepless cares wasted his spirits as he looked at fresh Calais."

Death of Eurydice

The most famous story in which Orpheus figures is that of his wife Eurydice (sometimes referred to as Euridice and also known as Argiope). While walking among her people, the Cicones, in tall grass at her wedding, Eurydice was set upon by a satyr. In her efforts to escape the satyr, Eurydice fell into a nest of vipers and suffered a fatal bite on her heel. Her body was discovered by Orpheus who, overcome with grief, played such sad and mournful songs that all the nymphs and gods wept. On their advice, Orpheus traveled to the underworld. His music softened the hearts of Hades and Persephone, who agreed to allow Eurydice to return with him to earth on one condition: he should walk in front of her and not look back until they both had reached the upper world. Orpheus set off with Eurydice following; however, as soon as he had reached the upper world, he immediately turned to look at her, forgetting in his eagerness that both of them needed to be in the upper world for the condition to be met. As Eurydice had not yet crossed into the upper world, she vanished for the second time, this time forever.

The story in this form belongs to the time of Virgil, who first introduces the name of Aristaeus (by the time of Virgil's Georgics, the myth has Aristaeus chasing Eurydice when she was bitten by a serpent) and the tragic outcome. Other ancient writers, however, speak of Orpheus' visit to the underworld in a more negative light; according to Phaedrus in Plato's Symposium, the infernal gods only "presented an apparition" of Eurydice to him. In fact, Plato's representation of Orpheus is that of a coward, as instead of choosing to die in order to be with the one he loved, he instead mocked the gods by trying to go to Hades to bring her back alive. Since his love was not "true"—he did not want to die for love—he was actually punished by the gods, first by giving him only the apparition of his former wife in the underworld, and then by being killed by women. In Ovid's account, however, Eurydice's death by a snake bite is incurred while she was dancing with naiads on her wedding day.

Virgil wrote in his poem that Dryads wept from Epirus and Hebrus up to the land of the Getae (north east Danube valley) and even describes him wandering into Hyperborea and Tanais (ancient Greek city in the Don river delta) due to his grief.

The story of Eurydice may actually be a late addition to the Orpheus myths. In particular, the name Eurudike ("she whose justice extends widely") recalls cult-titles attached to Persephone. According to the theories of poet Robert Graves, the myth may have been derived from another Orpheus legend, in which he travels to Tartarus and charms the goddess Hecate.

The myth theme of not looking back, an essential precaution in Jason's raising of chthonic Brimo Hekate under Medea's guidance, is reflected in the Biblical story of Lot's wife when escaping from Sodom. More directly, the story of Orpheus is similar to the ancient Greek tales of Persephone captured by Hades and similar stories of Adonis captive in the underworld. However, the developed form of the Orpheus myth was entwined with the Orphic mystery cults and, later in Rome, with the development of Mithraism and the cult of Sol Invictus.

Death

According to a Late Antique summary of Aeschylus' lost play Bassarids, Orpheus, towards the end of his life, disdained the worship of all gods except the sun, whom he called Apollo. One early morning he went to the oracle of Dionysus at Mount Pangaion to salute his god at dawn, but was ripped to shreds by Thracian Maenads for not honoring his previous patron (Dionysus) and was buried in Pieria. Here his death is analogous with that of Pentheus, who was also torn to pieces by Maenads; and it has been speculated that the Orphic mystery cult regarded Orpheus as a parallel figure to or even an incarnation of Dionysus. Both made similar journeys into Hades, and Dionysus-Zagreus suffered an identical death. Pausanias writes that Orpheus was buried in Dion and that he met his death there. He writes that the river Helicon sank underground when the women that killed Orpheus tried to wash off their blood-stained hands in its waters. Other legends claim that Orpheus became a follower of Dionysus and spread his cult across the land. In this version of the legend, it is said that Orpheus was torn to shreds by the women of Thrace for his inattention.

Ovid recounts that Orpheus ...

had abstained from the love of women, either because things ended badly for him, or because he had sworn to do so. Yet, many felt a desire to be joined with the poet, and many grieved at rejection. Indeed, he was the first of the Thracian people to transfer his affection to young boys and enjoy their brief springtime, and early flowering this side of manhood.

— Ovid. trans. A. S. Kline, Ovid: The Metamorphoses, Book X

Feeling spurned by Orpheus for taking only male lovers (eromenoi), the Ciconian women, followers of Dionysus, first threw sticks and stones at him as he played, but his music was so beautiful even the rocks and branches refused to hit him. Enraged, the women tore him to pieces during the frenzy of their Bacchic orgies. In Albrecht Dürer's drawing of Orpheus' death, based on an original, now lost, by Andrea Mantegna, a ribbon high in the tree above him is lettered Orfeus der erst puseran ("Orpheus, the first pederast").

His head and lyre, still singing mournful songs, floated down the River Hebrus into the sea, after which the winds and waves carried them to the island of Lesbos, at the city of Methymna; there, the inhabitants buried his head and a shrine was built in his honour near Antissa; there his oracle prophesied, until it was silenced by Apollo. In addition to the people of Lesbos, Greeks from Ionia and Aetolia consulted the oracle, and his reputation spread as far as Babylon.

Cave of Orpheus' oracle in Antissa, Lesbos

Orpheus' lyre was carried to heaven by the Muses, and was placed among the stars. The Muses also gathered up the fragments of his body and buried them at Leibethra below Mount Olympus, where the nightingales sang over his grave. After the river Sys flooded

Leibethra, the Macedonians took his bones to Dion. Orpheus' soul returned to the underworld, to the fields of the Blessed, where he was reunited at last with his beloved Eurydice.

Another legend places his tomb at Dion, near Pydna in Macedon. In another version of the myth, Orpheus travels to Aornum in Thesprotia, Epirus to an old oracle for the dead. In the end Orpheus commits suicide from his grief unable to find Eurydice.

"Others said that he was the victim of a thunderbolt."

From Wikipedia

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Orpheus the musician & beast tamer.

Art by Brittany Beverung @artistfuly

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