#Blood donation myths | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

https-mi1zu · 16 days ago

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The Peacock and The Crow

(Chapters 7 & 8)

CO WRITERS, SPELL CHECKERS, AND HONESTLY THE PEOPLE WHO HELPED ME WRITE THIS: @cha0sdumpster AND @charliestories

Word count: 8,314

TAGS:

Reyno - @radkatzzstuff

Sage, Eros, and Elio - @erosjournal

Lydia - @prmoise

WARNINGS: ginger descriptions (keith wallis)

CHAPTER SEVEN: I taught myself how to sword fight.

So apparently, Nico was a demigod, like the ones I've read in myths in Greek mythology. Nico explained to me in the taxi about what and why I was kidnapped. The monster back there was my teacher, but she wasn't a person. mortal? thing?? He explained what she was, which was a fury. Not the furry type, though. She was very demonic and feathery, nothing like Ive seen in my books and pictures.

Nico then explained that I was special, not academically but special in another way. I was a demigod.

”demi..god?” I said, looking right at him with a look of amazement and bewilderment “So you're saying my mom fell in love with a god? like Jesus?” Nico looked at me, confused. “No, like Greek gods.” he explained nonchalantly.

”Oh…so like Hera...Hades? Apollo and Athena?” I said, eyebrows raised in amazement. Did I finally find my purpose in life? Did I finally find another reason other than to be a child therapist?

Was this everything I wished for?

”Yes, exactly that.” Nico crossed his arms, facing his side of the taxi to look out the window. I did the same but I looked down at my palm, still holding the necklace that Miss Fiore threw at me. “She would probably want this back. I’ll hold onto it for her” I thought, putting on the necklace.

It only took a few hours until we reached land. I accidentally fell asleep in the taxi, which passed time. My eyes flickered open, only to be met with the blinding sunlight streaming in through the window. I squinted and winced, turning away. In the other window, I saw a big sign, something in Greek. Camp half-blood? Was that a blood donation site for kids with cancer? “Here we are. I’ll take you to the big house.” Nico said, opening the car door and shutting it behind him. I caught up quickly, a little out of breath. We walked, passing campers of various heights, ethnicities, and ages. Most of the campers were sixteen or even higher, for the rest, they looked my age.

As me and Nico reached this place he called the big house, there was a short stubby man wearing a leopard pattern button up shirt. He had brown shorts on, and he had a can of diet coke. He was lounging on a lawn chair, with a diet coke can in hand. Despite

He looked at me and Nico, before he yelled “NICOLAS D’ANDERSON AND THE NEW CAMPERS HERE!”, was Nicolas D’Anderson, Nico’s real name?

I stood next to nico, although he was my kidnapper, he was the only person I knew so far.

“Kid, this is Mr, D. He’s the director for Camp Half Blood.”

“Mr D? What does the D stand for?” I asked Nico, still staring at this Mr D. Did it stand for Mr Diet Coke? I watched him take a sip from the can he was holding “Dionysus.” I heard Nico say, then another person came. Or a centaur, to be more accurate. He looked like a reverse-tikbalang (horse creature in filipino myths), where the top was human and the bottom was a horse. My eyes widened, and my attention suddenly reverted to him.

The centaur was wearing a dark brown vest with a white button-up underneath, he had a red tie and a short beard that wrapped around his jawline. The centaur had kind weathered eyes, like he’d been around for more than a few decades. His hair was medium length, he looked like Jesus if he had short hair, to be honest. His lower half was chestnut brown, like the type of horse you’d think of when the word “horse” is mentioned. It made him tower over us but in a non-threatening way. “Ah, you must be June.” I nodded, my eyes still glued on him. Nico just turned around and walked away.

He was tall, very tall. I must look like a midget compared to him. “…yes, that's me,” I mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. The short stubby man who called Nico by the wrong name got up and walked back inside the big light-blue house. “You must be tired after your trip here, no?” the centaur gestured for me to come inside. I hesitated but stepped onto the deck and through the door. He followed, his hooves clip-clopping as he stepped onto the wooden floor. Outside were a couple of lawn chairs and tables, making it seem like a vacation home.

The inside of the place was quite big. It was mostly made of wood, and the entrance led into a living room. It consisted of a brown couch. A brick fireplace was against the wall, a leopard head over the mantle. Unlike normal taxidermied leopard heads, it appeared to be sleeping rather than having its eyes wide open and eternally awake. He gestured for me to sit down on the couch, and I did. I sat down as I normally would whenever a teacher asked me to go chat with them outside the classroom. My eyes still explored the room, before focusing on the centaur. I folded my hands on my lap and looked up at him as he cleared his throat to speak. “You may call me Chiron.” I nodded, my voice almost a whisper, but loud enough for Chiron to hear. “Yes, sir.” He smiled in acknowledgement. “Well, this camp is for children like you. Demigods.” Oh, so not a blood donation site. I nodded with interest, with the same amazement I had when Nico told me what I was in the car.

“You do understand what a demigod is, correct? I hope Nico told you on the way here.” I nodded again, not daring to say another word to this stranger. He may have told me his name, but I still didn't fully understand and trust him. His horse tail flicked behind him as he continued,

But before he could continue, he noticed the little scar on my lip. Chiron’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. I bit my lip, the sharp metallic taste pricking the tip of my tongue.

“It might be best if you head to the infirmary.” He noted. He made his way back outside, to the door. Then he led me from there to the infirmary, which was quite far from the big house. We passed a big river, where lots of girls lounged on the riverbank, chatting and gossiping. (well, not really girls, but they seemed to dissolve into the water whenever they slipped in.) They must be nymphs. We walked past multiple campers, some of whom were handling and holding weapons like giving sharp objects to minors was normal. Is this camp okay? What was even more concerning was that a majority of them seemed pretty good at dealing with weapons.

I wanted to ask Chiron if handing kids weapons was okay and legal around here, but I couldn't. I just stayed silent as I followed the centaur to the infirmary. I looked around while we were at it, seeing all the campers in orange shirts, some dirty, and some bloodied. We walked into this place, it looked like a rectangle from my point of view.

When I first entered, I saw this big campfire in the middle. Why were they starting a fire in midday? There was a young girl attending to it, she looked to be nine, nine years old. Chiron and I turned left, now we were standing in front of cabin 7. The sunlight beamed down on it, and boom! It looked like gold, glittering like the cabin was made of solid light.

There were three campers in front of the cabin, talking. The one on the left had soft-looking blonde hair, she was wearing a simple outfit, something I’d probably wear.

The girl was wearing a long plaid skirt that reached below her knees, she was wearing soft green boots and mismatched socks. On Top of the skirt was a light sage green coat, all buttons, buttoned up. She also had a gray scarf and a green satchel. Next to her was a boy, they didn’t look to be dating but more like best friends. He looked to be sixteen and had a baggy shirt on with baggy pants to match. His hair was short, fluffy even. But the

In the middle of them was a satyr, and I couldn’t tell what gender they were, so I’m just gonna call them they/them. They had the same orange shirt most of the other campers were wearing, and they had on brown jorts, which complemented their shaggy hindquarters.

The trio stopped talking abruptly once they noticed us standing there. “New blood?” The boy spoke up, I froze. Now their attention was on me, I didn't like that. The satyr walked in and gestured for me to follow, chiron patted my back gently, as if telling me to go in and follow.

I did, I followed for I still had an injury. “so, are you new here?” they asked me. I nodded and followed them to a room. They knocked on the door and someone opened it

He was tall, but not taller than chiron. He had a wavy mop of bright blonde hair, he wore a surgical mask and a white coat. Underneath it, he wore brown cargo shorts and a sage green plain shirt. He wore a bead necklace, the same one everyone wore. On the lapel of his coat, the sticker tag read “Hi, my name’s Will!”. Will looked tired, like a sleep-deprived surfer boy. His eye bags weren’t too deep, though. They were overlapped by his freckles, “Oh, hey come in. sit down on the bed” He stifled a yawn, removing his mask and rubbing his eyes. His smile was calm and sleepy, like the type of smile you would see at a picnic during the summer.

”You can leave them to me, Elio.” The satyr left while will closed the door. “Your new right?” He had a slight texan accent as he brought out his check board. “My name’s Will, nice to meet you!” He introduced himself, sitting down on his chair.

“Oh, Im June,” I replied, looking around the small room. He started to write something on his check board. “nice to meet you, june. How did you get this injury?” He pointed to the small scratch on the corner of my lip. “A fury apparently. Nico told me on the way here.” “Ohh, yeah they suck. A lot more of these things will happen to you while you’re in and out of camp, but you’d get used to it.” Will got up, and grabbed a small cup of yellow liquid.

“Here, drink this” he gave me the cup, I drank it all. It tasted like mango pudding cubes? My dad used to buy these for me when he'd travel to cebu or bohol. “what’d taste like?” Will started to dab lightly the piece of cotton on the scar of my lip.

”Mango pudding cubes.” I replied.

“Ooh, mango pudding cubes, what’s that?” Will asked, tilting his head.

”Its a type of candy you can get in the Philippines. Mostly in Tagaytay or Coron.” He put the bandaid on the scar, before patting head. “I’ll try them sometime, June! That sounds pretty good.” I got off the bed and walked out, “Oh, and welcome to camp.” Will added, remaining in the room.

It was already getting late, the sun was setting by the time I got out. Chiron was still there, he was talking with Mr D about something. “Oh june, eros over here will be showing you were you’ll be sleeping tonight, somethings have come up and I wont be able to take you there myself, welcome to camp, by the way...” it was the last thing chiron told to me before he walked off with Mr D, to be in a hurry…

”Hey, you're June right?” A guy came up from behind me, strolling up in front and holding out his hand, “Im eros, this is Sage and the guy who showed you in was Elios.” He gestured as I shook his hand, looking at the three of them. “I’m June.”

We all walked, the trio in front of me talking about stuff. “so june, where are you from?” Elio asked, now walking beside me. “…the philippines.” I replied, shoving my hands in my jacket’s pockets since I was still in my uniform. “the philippines? I heard its hot there" "It is.” I kept my answers short.

Eros and his friends showed me where I’ll be staying the night, cabin 11. They gave me a sleeping bag and a fresh set of clothes for the night, it was an oversized CHB shirt with plaid pants, it looked big. Sage said it was the last one they had that was for kids like me.

The trio showed me to a place where I could shower and change clothes. I stepped into the place, it looked like a prison. It was empty, and cold. The stall doors made from wood, and the floor was made up of tiles. I walked to the last stall to take a shower. Putting the clothes eros and friends gave me onto a nearby stool to take off my shoes. I had to crouch down on the ground as I unlaced my shoes. After my shoes were off and placed to the side, I stepped into the stall, to finally take a nice warm shower-

Except, when I turned it on, the water came out freezing cold. I let out a yelp, no one seemed to hear or to notice. I guess eros and his friends had to leave. It was quiet, a little too quiet for my liking. I showered quickly and changed into the clothes the trio gave me and quickly left the place, gave me the creeps.

When I walked out, it looked peaceful. The light of the moon illuminating the place. I walked to cabin 11, quickly, I was tired after the day I had.

When I entered the cabin, there were a lot of people sleeping in the bunks and others sleeping on the floor with a sleeping bag. I couldn't find an open space, except for one near the entrance. Opening my sleeping bag, I just laid in it and stared into the roof of the cabin. My glasses were placed right next to my head as I just wondered.

Was this the life I wanted? Did I finally escape the pain and suffering i've been through since I was born?

maybe.

CHAPTER EIGHT: This is why I don't socialize.

I woke up the next day, my back sore after sleeping in the Hermes cabin. I didn’t like it there, it was slightly cramped. I had to sleep on the floor near the entrance since there was no space for new campers. The actual Hermes kids or the ones that arrived earlier than I did occupied the bunks. It was hotter here, and I’m pretty sure I saw someone sneak in here. They came out with toilet paper and a sweater they weren’t wearing when they slipped through the door. In the moonlight, their appearance looked slightly dishevelled, their face hard to make out as the harpies swooped upon them in a flurry of feathers and screeching.

This reminded me of home, when my mother would come home late with a bottle of wine and a missing shoe. She’d always ask me for her pyjamas and water as if she were the child in this scenario. I’d always lay them out neatly on the couch, with a glass of water on the coffee table like the good child-mother I was.

I flinched, as a loud sound interrupted my thoughts and the atmosphere the sunrise was setting, waking up everyone else from their bunks. I even saw two guys get up from the same bunk. I rubbed my eyes, as a small sliver of sunlight peered through the crack of the door. Sitting up as the hood of the sleeping bag fell to my waist. I stretched. That was not as bad as the nights I’d spent back at home. I watched as everyone else got ready, going to the bathroom, and fixing their hair and beds. The person I slept with even fixed the order of their plushies, aligning them against their pillow. I followed and did the same, rolling up my sleeping bag and putting it in a corner so that it wouldn't get trampled on. A lot of people weren't there and didn’t take notice of me as I put on my shoes.

I followed everyone, staying behind like a black sheep from its flock.

Staying behind everyone, I noticed that there was another guy in the back. He looked like a satyr but if they were more wolf-like. The guy was wearing a green flannel, a CHB shirt like mine and jeans? not really jeans though. His hair looked fluffy, soft, and silky even. He was chatting with some people, joking around with them as the group walked.

He soon spotted me, just walking there, in silence since I didn't have anyone to talk to. The boy excused himself, and the two other people continued walking without him. He bounded over to where I was, smiling as he spoke. “Hey you! you're the kid who Nico brought in, right?” I nodded, his tone was silly, to say the least. “I could show you around half blood if you’d like? oh I’m reyno by the way!” ”june.” He blinked, a little confused. “june?”

“That's uh, my name.” I responded, keeping it short and simple since I didn't want him to think I was weird. We walked and talked the entire time, he reminded me of mars, in a way. Maybe it was because of how similar they were, when they talked about their interest while fidgeting or shaking their hands. He was cool. Reyno talked about competitions he’s competed in, making small jokes about it too. “Have you been in any competitions, june?” He looked at me all excited. “…I've been in a few drawing competitions?”

“You gotta show me your drawings sometime!” Reyno exclaimed, his tail wagging excitedly behind him. Jeez he really did remind me of Mars. I wanted to say more, keep the conversation going. I fidgeted in place, eyes darting around. “...I’ve left my stuff back at school. Like, that includes my notebook…yeah.” Reyno nodded in understanding, still beaming. He was smiling so wide that his canines were showing. “That’s cool, Maybe you can make more drawings here.” I nodded, didn't really know what to do.

The group of campers that came out of the hermes cabin started to disperse as we reached a circular building. It had pillars and a rope of cabin flags to the left side. There were picnic tables that surrounded the middle, which had a fire pit, with a live fire. It was quite cold, but no one was shivering even though most were wearing shorts or CHB tank tops. I just followed Reyno to a table with some of the Hermes campers.

“uhm…do we get our food or?” I asked Reyno, a little confused because I didn't see a buffet or a place to ask for food. I usually see those types of things in hotels or my school.

“Oh, the nymphs usually serve our food!” he exclaimed. Then a green boy came by our table, he was holding a lot of plates, with varying foods. One on his left hand, holding pancakes, the other holding eggs and bacon. On his shoulders was a plate with toast with a bowl, his right shoulder had another plate with waffles.

“see?” Reyno said as the guy placed the plate of waffles “Thank you sir”, the guy looked to me and asked “what do you want for breakfast, new camper?” He smiled as he said this. I inhaled, feeling my cheeks flush. Damn, he was cute.

”I-I’ll take the toast” I said, he placed the plate with the toast and the bowl right in front of me “Thank you”. It was a simple breakfast, toast and cereal. Another green person came by as well, giving me a cup of orange juice and Reyno a cup too, before leaving to give the others drinks.

”Those are the nymphs! they give us breakfast, lunch, and dinner” Reyno started to cut his waffles into bite-sized pieces as I just picked up a spoon and started to eat my cereal.

”nymphs?” I ate a piece of my toast, a sip of orange juice following after.

“They’re minor deities” He responded, voice muffled by the amount of waffles he shoveled in his mouth. “Then why are they serving us food if they are deities?” I asked, feeling baffled by the information he just dropped on me. Deities in Filipino mythology are usually worshiped or not doing much work. But here they are, serving us breakfast. “Well yeah, but they live at camp like us and they need work to do!” He explained it in a way that I understood, which was nice. I nodded, intrigued.

”Oh, then what do the demigods do?” Reyno then went on a rant on what we as demigods do, we go on quests and help others. He explained that we train and do classes to do better for the mythological world. He was cut off as we saw everyone from our table get up to scrape our food into the fire.

“Is the food here that bad?” I stood next to Reyno as we put in bits of our breakfasts. He put a small piece of his waffle, and I put my toast. “We’re offering to the gods!”He exclaimed, taking a bite out of the lone waffle on his plate. “The gods? aren't they all high and mighty? Why would they want our breakfast?” I questioned, looking down at my empty plate. Its golden surface reflected my face back, like a small mirror with a few crumbs sticking on it. We walked back to our table to set down our plates for the nymphs to collect. “They’re the gods, we always have to offer to them” He laughed, but his tone didn’t seem to match his usual demeanor. “Come one, come all!! Lend me your ears, for I’m the child this prophecy is talking about!” A boy yelled out, suddenly climbing onto the Hermes picnic table holding his head high as if he was on a stage. He was wearing a big oversized jacket, which looked like a stereotypical wizard’s cloak with the white and purple star pattern on it. His eyes gleamed with the confidence of a magician hosting a show. He flourished his hands dramatically, as if he was A wave of “ooo”s and “ahhs” rose up from the small crowd that was starting to gather around him. I thought they gathered around him because he wasn’t wearing any pants, but he turned out to just be wearing really short jean shorts. If he went to my school, he’d be suspended for 3 weeks just for wearing that.

“Who's he?” I asked, the same nymph was picking up and cleaning the place after everyone was done eating, along with a bunch of other nymphs. They moved around like they were floating, graceful and light on their feet. Reyno let out a small grunt before he spoke. “Oh, that's Keaton, he’s the son of Hermes. He came in last night, making a big show like the one he’s doing right now.” His eyebrows furrowed. I could tell Reyno didn't like this guy. Was Keaton the guy Chiron was talking about, when he had to leave me to eros, sage, and elio? “I saw him this morning, bragging to the other campers on how he’s the new prophecy child” he rolled his eyes at keaton, his long ears tilting down slightly. We both watched keaton as he continued his weird speech about being the kid who's gonna save us all. I saw some people, looking like they believed it, the others not as much. “Anyways! c’mon, I promised to show you around camp right?” We walked some more, setting down the plates on the Hermes picnic table, Keaton narrowly kicking them off as he flaunted loudly about his “backstory leading up to this fated moment.” Reyno lead the way, tail wagging with even more enthusiasm the further we got from the mess hall.

We walked through the strawberry fields, coming across a few satyrs and nymphs using their magic on it to make the vines grow. There were other campers milling about, basking in the sunlight and picking strawberries. Reyno explained that Camp Half-Blood was also running a strawberry business as a font. Apparently, if a mortal were to look at Camp-Half blood properly, they’d think that it was a strawberry farm instead of a camp for really dangerous weapon-handling teenagers. In the distance, Nico was swinging interlocked hands with Will Solace, talking to two other campers I recognized from the gold cabin. I think they told me their names, but I forgot.

Reyno continued on, and he walked ahead of me, tail wagging excitedly and a bigger bounce in his step. I think he cheered up after we took some time away from Keaton and his boasting.

“Oh my gods! Are you the new camper? Hi!! Nice to meet you!!” A girl with long curly brown hair went up to me with a wide smile of her face. She brushed her hair from her shoulders, and it swept behind her back. Her outfit looked like something you’d thrift at a store to wear for the summer. “My name’s Lydia! What’s yours?” She asked, leaning forwards with her hands behind her back.“...June-” “June? that's such a pretty name! nice to meet you june!” She was smiling so bright that I swear, I was standing in front of the sun itself. Literally. A sheen of light surrounded her like a filter, making her smile stand out even more. I leaned back, squinting against her glow. It was almost blinding, but Reyno somehow matched her energy.

”Oh hey Lydia! I'm showing june around camp, whatcha up to?” Reyno exclaimed, moving to stand in front of me by a centimeter. I stayed silent while I watched them interact.

”Just picking strawberries!” She pointed to a basket, not to far from where we are. It was filled with a lot of strawberries, almost to the brim of the woven basket. “why?” Mumbling under my breath, they stopped talking for a moment, looking to me while I stood behind Reyno. Together, their energy was too bright. It was bright enough to light an entire room. “Its for our strawberry business! Cant have the mortals knowing that this is a camp for demigods!” Lydia explained to me, seeming to notice my confusion. “I mean, its not like they’ll ever know! With the mist covering us and all that.” She gestured as she spoke, waving around at the sky to indicate the presence of some kind of shield made of mist being around us. While reyno and lydia continued their conversation after explaining to me why we pick strawberries, from the corner of my eye I saw a ginger.

He had a book in his hand, wearing a soft shade of green button up with brown baggy pants. The boy was sitting under a tree, face speckled with shadows cast down by the tree branches. He had a basket of strawberries next to him. His hair was a shade of ginger, not too bright, not too dark, but it was just the right shade. It looked soft, like a sheep's wool or a small mouse. He looked almost godly, having olive colored skin and a face card that looked like a sculpture you’d find in a museum. He looked like an otherworldly prince, descended down from the heavens. He tucked an orange lock behind his ear before turning the page to his book. “whatcha lookin at, june?” I heard Reyno ask me. I flushed and turned back to the two, their conversation concluded and their eyes on me. “Uh, who’s that guy?” I gestured with my hands to the guy sitting under the tree, and next to the strawberry basket.

”him? thats keith wallis! child of hera, kinda just came into camp after his mom dropped him off!” Reyno exclaimed. “never really got good vibes with that kid, he’s always seen reading something or helping around camp!” Soon lydia walked away from me and reyno, going to help some other camper with strawberry picking.

I listened intently, this keith guy seemed so mysterious and ethereal in a way. Both me and Reyno walked away from the fields of strawberries. He showed me where the pegasus stables were, all the neighs from the horses startled me a bit but we were only there for a couple of minutes (reyno explained what half bloods did for the pegasus’)

Next, we went to an old shed which was apparently called the armoury. “and this is where we keep all our weapons! in case monsters break through the barrier of course.” He opened the door to the shed looking like a building. Inside there were racks of spears, bronze armor mounted on the wall along with shields and swords. Other items and dust were scattered around, “do you know how to fight, june?” Rey turned around, hands on his hips as he asked me that question.

“no.” I said. ‘I’m a thirteen year old girl with ADHD, why would you give me a weapon .’ I wanted to say, my thoughts told me to shut up while Rey explained some other stuff.

Next, we headed to the place that looked like a roman colosseum, Rey said its called the arena. As we walked in the place, there were already people training with dummies or with each other. My attention soon caught a girl who was going hard on a training dummy, treating it like a war criminal who just had killed her whole family. She didn't look older then 16, but damn she was menacing.

”this is were we train and sometimes hold events, like chariot racing, or the gladiator games!” We just walked around, watching everyone train as if their life depended on it. After the arena, was the forge. The white marble columns covered in soot. Chimneys on the roof, already letting out smoke. “and this is were the hephaestus kids make armor, weapons, and inventions to help around camp!” I coughed a bit as we walked in, the place felt hot as I watched campers covered in soot work. Rey lead me over to still an open space but there was a drawing board and a guy sitting on one of those spinny chairs. He fidgeted and tapped on the wood, eyes most likely never leaving the blueprint spread out in front of him.

He wore a white baggy tank top, something that you’d see often in the philippines since it was always too hot. The guy was covered in burn marks, some smudging his tank top. Worn out goggles hung around his neck as he sketched something on the drawing board. He had impish features, making him look like the type of person to make a bomb and casually difuse it before it would explode. The guy mumbled something in spanish as he erased and redrew something. “Hey Leo!” Rey exclaimed, waving his hand in a friendly manner as leo spun around in a dramatic manner, “Reyno,” he said, the way he said it almost like a challenge. Without missing a beat, Leo hopped to his feet, and the two of them exchanged a high-five that was just a little too loud to be casual.

I stood off to the side, awkwardly observing their interactions. It was clear they had some kind of rivalry—each move they made felt like a subtle contest, like they were trying to one-up each other in the smallest ways. I got a better look of leo. the square glasses that laid on his face didn't look to be his. Leo didnt really give me a type of guy who’d wear glasses since he has those googles.

Leo glanced at me, and I could feel his eyes scanning me, sizing me up. “So, what’s up, Wolfie? Something break?” he teased, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. Reyno shot him a look that could’ve frozen fire. “Nah, I’m just showing the new camper around. Meet June.”

I froze at the introduction. I waved nervously, trying to force a smile, but Leo’s reaction wasn’t what I expected. His gaze flicked over my face—scrutinizing, assessing—and for a second, it felt like he was trying to figure me out, like I was some kind of puzzle. He raised his eyebrows at me, squinting.

Finally, Leo blinked, his smirk faltering slightly before he held out his hand. “Welcome to camp. I’m Leo Valdez...” he said, his voice a bit too cool for someone giving a warm welcome. His grin made him look even more dangerous, like he was about to put a bomb in my hand and run away giggling.

I shook his hand, a bit thrown off by the strange vibe. “June,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Reyno leaned in. “Don’t mind Leo,” he said, almost too sweetly. “He only acts like this around people he’s competing with.”

Leo’s eyes shot Reyno a glare that could’ve burned through metal. His grin remained intact. “Oh, please. You wish you were competition, Reyno,” he shot back, his tone sounding slightly annoyed and condescending. “But hey, nice to meet you, June. If you need any real advice around here, I’m your guy.” His fingers flamed menacingly, as if they were aching to blast a fireball at Reyno’s face. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. Reyno and Leo exchanged another one of those looks—part challenge, part exasperation—and I couldn’t help but feel like I was in the middle of something far bigger than a simple camp tour. They exchanged glances and words while I wondered off and outside, it was far too hot for me there.

But a certain someone caught my eye in the far distance…It was keith. He was holding his book to his side, his middle finger acting as a bookmark as he held it. He was walking and talking with chiron, I wonder where Mr D went. Mr D seemed to mostly be with Chiron, talking about whatever camp directors talked about or playing card games. Maybe he was off doing what gods did when they weren't attending to demigod camps or playing pinochle.

I watched them from the forge, hearing little bits of conversation between Reyno and Leo. Soon Reyno rushed me out of the forge, Leo was shouting something in spanish while we were walking away.

“uh…what was that about?” I looked to Rey who just ruffled my hair in a friendly manner “oh just a friendly rivalry you know”

After what ever Leo and Rey went through, the sun was already setting. ”So, how do campers know which cabins to go to” I asked Rey, his tail still wagging as he scratched the back of his ear like how dogs scratch theirs with their hind legs. “Oh you get claimed!”

”claimed?” “yeah! its where your godly parent claims you as their child! But sometimes, some kids are left unclaimed, thats why theres a lot of kids staying at the hermes cabin. Percy Jackson brought that issue up with the gods last time, so it's getting fixed.” I nodded, listening intently to rey’s explanation of how things work around half blood.

“How do you get claimed? Do they just happen randomly or-“ Rey cut me off before I could finish. “You just have to make them notice you! like, do some camp activities!”

“Camp activities? Is it like…canoeing, arts and crafts, hiking, fishing…and star gazing?” I've always wanted to go to a summer camp, but the only ones in the Philippines that I know of are religious ones where they make you pray half the time you're there.“Not quite, i've pretty much shown you the activities but we do have arts and crafts! think of it like a summer camp but 10x cooler!” We reached the pavilion, people already sat at the table while the guy keaton was still continuing on with his stories or whatever, me and rey weren’t really listening. Rey then went to explain how at half blood, they do more things like sword fighting or archery. It reminded me of a military camp, but this time there's children wielding dangerous weapons.

“Any more questions, Junie?” Junie, no one really gave me a nickname other than my mom…. “No more questions” I said, a satyr came by our table and placed down some food. Lots of satyrs and nymphs wizzed around this time, serving the campers like how they did this morning. How come the satyrs weren't here this morning? I asked Reyno this, and he answered: “Oh, they were at a meeting with Dionysus.” And he went on to explain that the satyrs also managed matters concerning the woods and nature around camp and that Dionysus managed them. Something about a Council of the Elders, I think..

I stared down at the food that appeared in front of me, my stomach growling in protest as the smell of grilled meat and freshly baked bread filled the air. It was a mix of something hearty and comforting, just what I needed after a long day of being shown around camp. I realized I hadn’t even eaten much since breakfast. Maybe it was the strange newness of everything, or maybe I was just too nervous. But now, sitting at this table, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and the steady buzz of camp life, I felt both out of place and strangely at home.

Reyno gave me a grin, clearly sensing my hesitation. “You gonna stare at that food all night, or are you gonna eat it, Junie?”

I blinked at him, a little embarrassed, and grabbed my fork. "Sorry, guess I'm still getting used to everything."

He shrugged, casually digging into his own plate. "Don’t worry about it. Happens to everyone. You’ll get the hang of it." His tail flicked behind him, as he swiped some mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Besides, it’s better to eat now while it’s warm. Later, Keaton’ll probably start another one of his ‘prophecy speeches,’ and the food will go cold.” He rolled his eyes dramatically as he continued.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. "Yeah, he seems... intense." My eyes flickered over to where Keaton was still talking animatedly, flailing his arms around as he gestured like a madman. The crowd around him had grown, but I could tell that half of them were just there for the entertainment. He was definitely the type to make a spectacle of himself. It doesn't take more than one glance to tell that he’s been doing this type of thing for a long time, by the way he moved boldly and extravagantly, with exaggerated actions to match it all.

Reyno noticed where I was looking and snorted. “Trust me, he’s all talk. Just wait until the next big monster attack. He’ll probably faint at the sight of it.” He took a bite of his food, not even bothering to look back at Keaton, whose loud voice was starting to grate on my nerves, too.

I shifted my attention back to my own plate, feeling the weight of the day settling on my shoulders. I had learned so much in the past few hours, and yet it still felt like I had barely scratched the surface. The camp, the gods, the monsters—it was all so overwhelming. How was I supposed to fit in here? How was I supposed to know what to do? I had always been the quiet, invisible kid back home. Would I even be able to find my place here?

“Something on your mind?” Reyno’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, fork halfway to his mouth.

I hesitated. "I guess... I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do here. I mean, what if I’m not... good enough?”

Reyno blinked at me for a moment, then put his fork down. His tail stopped wagging, and for the first time since I met him, I saw a bit of seriousness in his expression. “June,” he said slowly, leaning in a little, “No one’s perfect. You don’t need to be ‘good enough’ for anything here. You just need to be yourself. Camp Half-Blood isn’t about being the best at everything. It’s about surviving, growing, and figuring out who you are. And honestly? No one really knows what they’re doing until they figure it out.” He flashed me a reassuring toothy grin, his tail starting to wag again. “You’ll find your place. It’s just a matter of time.” He went back to eating, but slowly this time, as if he realized the maturity of his dialogue.

I wasn’t sure if I felt better, but hearing those words did take some of the weight off my chest. Reyno was right. I didn’t need to have everything figured out immediately.

I took a deep breath and continued eating, feeling a little more at ease as the camp continued to buzz around me. As much as I didn’t understand it all yet, I could at least take one day at a time. After all, I was a demigod. I could do this.

Keaton, still standing on the stone bench suddenly yelled, “Mark my words, I am the one the prophecy spoke of! I will—”

I immediately tuned him out, shoving another bite of food into my mouth. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here after all.

Reyno gave me a sideways glance, clearly amused by my reaction. “Yeah, he’s... something else.” He chuckled before taking a sip of his drink. “Don’t let him get to you. You’ll do fine.” I smiled back at him, feeling a little less out of place in this strange, sunlit world of demigods and myth. So, maybe I didn’t have all the answers yet. But I was starting to feel like I could find them.

Soon it was already somewhere early in the night and a bunch of campers started to get up and move after putting a small bit of their food into the fire. “wh- where are we going?” I asked rey, putting down our plates at the table we ate at. “oh! hestia’s fire” “hestia…? as in the goddess if the hearth?” Hestia was always an overlooked goddess, many people forget that she is also a child of kronos and the eldest daughter. “yeah! sometimes, almost every night we’d go to hestia’s fire and mostly just sit there or sing songs!”

We eventually reached the center of cabins, where a large fire pit stood, nestled between the cabins. The fire was always burning, a welcoming blaze meant to represent Hestia, the goddess of the hearth. The flames crackled cheerfully, casting flickering shadows across the stone circle surrounding it. But despite the warmth of the fire, the air around it was cold, the night creeping in fast.

Reyno plopped down on a nearby stone bench, stretching his arms out and letting out a deep sigh. “Whew, long day, huh?” He smiled over at me, clearly content to just relax for a moment.

I nodded but didn’t sit. I was still processing everything I’d seen today, and the quiet hum of conversation around the fire didn’t make it any easier. It felt like the whole camp was in the middle of some unspoken rhythm that I hadn’t quite figured out yet. I wasn’t sure where I fit into it.

The cold was starting to nip at my fingers, and without thinking, I shuffled closer to the fire, hoping to warm up. As I neared the flames, I stretched my hands toward them, feeling the heat wash over my skin. It was such a simple thing to do, but something about standing there in front of the fire felt... oddly isolating. I could hear the laughter and chatter behind me, but it was distant. Like I wasn’t part of it.

For a moment, I stood there, staring into the dancing flames, my thoughts drifting. The crackle of the fire was hypnotic. The way the fire swayed, like it was alive, dancing in its own rhythm, made me forget for a second that I wasn’t alone in this camp. That I wasn’t alone anywhere. I hadn’t realized how quiet it had become around me until I snapped out of my thoughts.

I turned around and found everyone at the fire pit had stopped what they were doing. A whole cluster of campers were now sitting in a loose circle, their eyes trained on me.

The silence hit me like a cold wave. The fire’s warmth couldn’t reach me now.

I felt every gaze on me, sharp and questioning, as if I was an outsider. The campers looked at me with curiosity, but also with something else—something colder. I had barely interacted with most of them, and yet, in this moment, it felt like they were all waiting for something. Some kind of sign, some kind of performance. Maybe they were all silently judging, trying to figure out who I was, why I was here.

It was stupid, but the weight of their eyes made my chest tighten. My hands, which had been so relaxed in the fire’s warmth, now felt stiff, the cool air biting into my skin. I quickly withdrew them, trying to look casual, but it was impossible to ignore the uncomfortable tension settling in my stomach.

After that, I just sat with Reyno the entire time we were there. I hadn't noticed how much time had passed when everyone started to get up and leave…Reyno said that he had his own cabin, that I could come with him but I declined. Reyno did so much for me today, didn't want to ask for more from him. “do you know where I could find a spare pair of clothes to change into, rey?” I probably smelt bad since the forge was really hot, and I sweat easily. “Oh! I’ll show you to the lost and found, you can try and find some clothes there!” Rey got up, gesturing for me to follow him. After he showed me to lost and found, he gave me a pair of plaid pyjama pants and some random big t-shirt with a band on it. “Welp, I’ll see you tomorrow junie!” He waved goodbye to me, walking in a random direction. I waved goodbye to him too, walking towards the showers.

I kept my head down, not wanting to make conversation with anyone while going to the bathrooms to take a quick shower. Maybe this was for me, maybe being half blood was life for me. I didn't have to worry about what to make for dinner tonight, or when my mother will come home so I could prepare her pyjamas. It felt…relieving to say the least, not having to worry about my grades or if there was a quiz the next day. My thoughts of finally being free were quickly interrupted by a certain someone. I had accidently bumped into someone, please kill me.

“oh sorry.” My voice sounded a bit to shrill as I looked up to see nico. He looked tired, with his hands in his pockets.

Nico didn't seem to react at first, his eyes shadowed under his mess of dark hair. There was always something a little eerie about him, like he was constantly at odds with the world around him. But this time, his gaze softened when he saw the look on my face.

"It's fine," Nico said, his voice low, almost like he was reluctant to break the silence of the scene around us. His tone was always that way—distant, as if every word cost him a little more effort than it should. He looked me over quickly, then seemed to realize something. "You okay?" I nodded, standing up quickly and brushing off the dirt off the clothes Reyno gave me. I walked hastily to the bathrooms, leaving nico there standing. I took a deep breath as I entered the showers, mentally telling myself how embarrassing that was. Taking a shower as quickly as I could. I took off my glasses and placed them on top of the lost and found clothes rey gave me. The water was now a little warmer then yesterday, it felt nice.

The warmth of the water contrasted to the cold nights and mornings at half blood. How do americans live like this, how do they wear shorts in the early mornings when it was as cold as baguio on a good day. Questioned swirled my head as I got out to dry off, there was no one there, thank god. I changed into my new clothes and placed my old ones where I left my other clothes yesterday.

Going back to cabin 11, keaton was still going on and on and on about his story, I rolled my eyes at him. He CLEARLY didn't know when to shut up, half the people who were listening to him earlier left already. There was about, maybe 3 campers left listening to his dumb stories. He only and finally shut up when someone shouted at him. I unraveled my sleeping bag, putting my glasses to the side of my head as I entered my bed, getting tired.

#tpatc #rrverse #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #riordanverse #pjo series #nico di angelo pjo #will solace #pjo hoo toa tsats #nico di angelo #hoo

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citrineandrosmarin · 2 days ago

Text

🦉Athena Masterpost: Offerings🦉

🐍 Masterpost Link 🐍

Last updated: Date of Publishing

A mix of UPG, SPG and Historical associations, please share your own in the comments or let me know if you share a UPG!

Gemstones & Metals:

H: Gold, Bronze, Silver, Iron

SPG: Lapis Lazuli, Onyx, Iolite

UPG: Rainbow Fluorite, Sodalite, Obsidian, Smoky Quartz, Kyanite, Bronzite, Tiger’s Eye (Any color), Tiger Iron, Blue Aventurine, Blue Calcite, Red Jasper, Flame Jasper, Lepidolite, Moonstones, Zoisite

Plants:

H: Olive, Ivy, Thyme

SPG: Rosemary, Cypress, Peppermint, Orange

UPG: Oak, Pine, Oregano, Peppers, Basil, Marigold, Dandelion, Yarrow, Geranium, Tiger Lily, Mint, Rose, Hellebore, Bay Laurel

Incense and Fragrances:

H: Frankincense, Thyme, Bay Laurel, Amber, Myrrh, Dragon’s Blood

SPG: Orange/Orange Blossom/Blood Orange, Citrus, Cedarwood, Cinnamon, Cypress, Bergamot & Sage

UPG: Pine, Musk, Oakmoss & Amber, Clove, Nutmeg, Pomegranate, French Vanilla, Sandalwood, Mint, Patchouli, Mint, The incenses “Pagan Spell,” “Celestial Bliss,” and “Tree of Life”

Food & Drink:

H: Olives and Olive Oil, Honey, Milk, Cheese, Cereal Grains, Diluted Wine, Bread, Baked Goods, Fish, Meat, Fruit (e.g. pomegranates, grapes, raspberries, pears)

SPG: Water, Fruit juice

UPG: Mint Icecream or tea, Rooibos (Redbush) Tea, Black Tea, Chocolate, Apple Cider, Coffee

Items & Miscellaneous (Almost all SPG and UPG):

Historical:

Miniature votive shields, helmets, swords, spears, or arrowheads, Pottery, Hymns, Poems, Jewelry, Animal figurines, Glass beads, Libation bowls, Terracotta figurines, Statues, Coins

SPG and UPG:

Music playlist, Mood boards, Perfumes, Candles, Books, Acorns, Bay leaves, Snake skin, Animal figurines, Owl feathers, Gull feathers, Horse Hair, Any helmet, spear, shield or sword imagery, Gorgoneions, Depictions of her favorite heroes.

Trophies, Medals, Diplomas, Good grades, Essays or other academic writing you’ve written, Study Tools, Graduation Caps

Any kind of handmade craft, Craft tools, Pottery, Yarn, Knitting or crochet needles, Polymer clay sculptures, Art, Origami, Wool

Devotional Acts (All SPG and UPG):

Using olive oil, Reading her myths, Donating to charity or doing some volunteering, Learning Ancient Greek, Learning about the history and culture of Ancient Greece

Playing strategy or puzzle games, Playing Escape Rooms, Any exercise that combines logic and creativity, World-building, Using your skills and learning new ones, taking classes to learn a skill.

Developing your intellect, Reading non-fiction, Doing research, Learning to think critically, Studying, Tutoring, Learning to code or any computer skills, Reading up on current science, Watching TEDtalks, Listening to educational podcasts or videos.

Doing any kind of hands-on craft like knitting, crochet, sculpting, etc. or learning a new crafty skill.

Exercise, Learning/Practicing self-defense or a martial art

Donating to charities for military veterans, Donating to those suffering from war, Learning about the Geneva Conventions, Staying educated on current wars and past wars

Being politically aware/active, Activism, Playing colony sims e.g. Civilization series, Getting involved in your community.

#athena masterpost #athena #athena deity #athena devotion #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #athena offerings #athena devotionals

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gardenerian · 4 days ago

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actually i have been meaning to ask you... if you would tell me all your thoughts about Dracula and Landlordism 🙂

well!!! okay! whew yeah alright! let's do thissssss 🧛🏻‍♂️ i wrote an actual paper about this in grad school but... alas... i can'T FIND IT !! so here are some insane and incoherent thoughts i have cobbled together. it's, uh, long:

so. here's a bunch of stuff:

we know bram stoker was irish (anglo-irish, technically, but he was born and spent his first 30 years in dublin). his mother was from sligo - she herself was a writer/activist, and she published a record of the 1830s cholera outbreak in western ireland (it's argued by some that even this piece of writing + theories of public health partly inspired dracula... more on that later!).

but also! bram stoker was a sickly kid and spent a lot of his early childhood bedridden. during those long days stuck in bed, his mother told him irish folk stories and other tales. he later said that his illness "gave opportunity for many thoughts which were fruitful according to their kind in later years."

some theorists have written that he would have heard stories like this:

from an early irish legend, abhartach was said to be a demonic tyrant who terrorized parts of derry. the locals tried to kill him with the help of a chieftan - but he kept returning night after night with increasing violence (later versions of the myth say that he demanded blood from villagers to sustain him, but this is a more modern addition). a druid said that abhartach had to be killed and buried in a very specific way (upside-down, for one) in order to stay dead. and this worked! the people were free! yay! spooky!

charlotte stoker also lived through the famine (she moved to dublin after marrying in 1844, bram was born in 47), a pretty bleak fucking period in history. while she was in the city, her family remained in the stricken west. there are folk tales from that time that involve menacing undead who would drink the blood of the poor and dying as they slept - this is likely inspired by the actual famine practice of mixing animal blood with oatmeal to supplement starving diets.

then you have ACTUAL family history! bram stoker's great uncle, george blake, took part in the 1798 rebellion of the united irishmen (wolfe tone, etc.) and was executed for his part in leading 1500 irishmen against the crown. another branch of his family, the o'donnells, were involved in the gaelic revival movement. charlotte's cousin richard o'donnell facilitated the donation of gaelic artifacts (the psalter of st. columbcille) to the royal irish academy.

some of these influences hold more weight than others, and so far this has little to do with landlordism BUT i do think it sets a precedent for stoker to be influenced by and concerned with irish matters. stoker was always interested in irish affairs, even if he didn't always come to the conclusions i wanted him to 😂 still, combined with his early career in the irish civil service and as a critic of irish theatre.... despite the fact that the novel was written in london, with obvious influences of the empire, i really do think there are some elements of the novel that are quite irish.

so! landlordism. what's going on in ireland in the latter half of the 19th century? this is a period of major agitation in the lead up to the revolutionary decade in the early 20th century. the main conversation here is about LAND. ireland is hugely rural and agrarian at this time:

in 1841, 4/5 of the irish population lived in villages with fewer than 20 houses

meanwhile, by 1870, 50% of the land on the island was owned by just 700 families - many of whom did not live in ireland

between 1850 and 1870, landlords collected 340 million pounds in rent, and reinvested just 5% back into the irish economy

so in the late 1870s, the irish land league is formed. the land league's goal was land reform - they wanted irish people to have the right to own the land they worked on. they used rent stikes and boycotts - and sometimes intimidation and violence - to achieve reform (1881 land act did restrict rights of landlords). under charles stewart parnell, they also succeeded in extending the right to vote to many agrarian workers. the land league soon became the national league, which pushed for home rule and other economic reforms beyond the land.

what's funny is that the land/national league agitators were themselves depicted as vampires in contemporary criticism - in order to paint the league as a secretive, sinister force that could disrupt imperial stability and suck the life of the irish colony. look at that poor damsel:

that bat even has the face of parnell 😭

so!!! the land!!!! is a constant thread in irish revolutionary activity. the 1916 proclamation declared "the right of the people of ireland to the ownership of ireland and to the unfettered control of irish destinies, to be sovereign and indefeasible." the irish revolution was in many ways a socialist revolution, and the right to LAND was a huge part of their goals. this is also seen in literature of the period, no matter the perspective - there are constant references to soil, earth, environment, and land.

so....... dracula. here is an aristocrat who not only drinks and lives off the lifeblood of people, but also literally removes soil from the land and brings it to england with him so he can live. the ultimate absentee landlord - and a poor one, too. like the ascendency class he may well be based on, dracula continues to drain people of life and resources while his ability to retain his fortune grows weaker (perhaps a nod to reform?). this has been read by some scholars as a depiction of a class that is losing its grip on power, unable to adapt to a changing social and economic landscape. there's also van helsing's constant reference to their plan of campaign/attack, etc. in describing their hunt of dracula... this is curious in that even though it was certainly a commonly used phrase, it's also a direct reference to a specific strategy by the land/national league against landlords in the late 1880s.

then you have the similarities between the eastern question and the irish question.... basically two anxiety-ridden issues from the imperialist point of view on "what to do" with the ottoman empire and the ireland as a colony. as these regions are beset by economic decline... war..... nationalist rebellion.... the question becomes "how do we fix this AND maintain power over people and land?"

we do have to remember that while stoker grew up hearing distinctly irish stories of folklore, rebellion, and famine, he was still a member of the anglo-irish class: he was not writing from an anti-colonial perspective, nor did he hold much anglo-irish guilt for his status. stoker was concerned with irish affairs, but he was never a nationalist. he was instead known to write off both militant fenianism and british landlordism as damaging.

stoker labeled himself as a "philosophical home ruler," meaning he, in theory, supported irish home rule if achieved through peaceful means. he supported irish self-government as internal autonomy - as a monarchist, he believed that ireland should remain in the british empire. stoker was a protestant, even if a liberal one, which also put him at odds with a largely catholic ireland.

so while we can (and i do!!) read the irish political influences here, what stoker himself was more concerned with was the idea of modernity, and he felt like both national and capitalist allegiances held people back from progress.

stoker was hugely interested in medicine as a way to advance progress. there is an anxiety here about infection. back up to charlotte stoker's record of the cholera outbreak in sligo - 10% of the town's population died. it was bram stoker who suggested that his mother write her history of the outbreak - where she noted that the illness came from ships and then infected people as it moved over the land... just like dracula. many cholera victims, nearly dead but still undead, loaded up with morphine and waiting to pass, were burned or buried alive. stoker was said to be morbidly interested in this... the idea of being buried in the earth before being truly dead. the original title of the novel was the undead, before stoker settled on dracula.

i had a whole thing about medicine written out here but i have veered so far away from landlordism that i am going to shut up. i just think that what stoker is messing around with here is a massively changing world, with conflict and advancement alike. landlordism is an obvious influence, but i think it goes hand in hand with an overall sense of: the order as we know it is crumbling.

this pairs well with contemporary anxieties about race, sexuality, and gender.... but that's another post altogether. there are also obvious influences of eastern european history at play here as well, and if i had another post in me i would get into that too!

this is all to say that there is nO WAY stoker didn't have at least some thought of land and empire - mixed with anxiety about the future as modernity and a new century rapidly approaches... a very victorian concern! what makes societal progress - power, knowledge, capital??? everyone at this time seemed to have a different answer!

shut up mel!

#i am...... so sorry #i basically rewrote that paper in here #there are tons of footnotes and disclaimers to be had here #but i don't think i am getting graded on this asdfhj #if you would like sources i will send you the PDFs lmao #mel answers

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a-god-in-ruins-rises · 2 months ago

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Hello. I'm not American, but I followed the last election pretty closely, and it raised a lot of questions for me. I was hoping you could share your perspective on a few things. For example, why does American politics seem so focused on personality and spectacle rather than actual policy? Is this because of a broken system that can't foster meaningful dialogue, or does the focus on "character" reflect a deeper cultural preference for spectacle over substance?

lmaooooo. i assume you are a european? because this ask reeks of european smugness. but it's fine. it's an interesting question and i'm happy to share my thoughts. and boy, do i have a lot of thoughts.

tl;dr: why? because americans are based.

"keep reading" at your own risk (it's gonna be long)....

first of all, i don't know how other countries run their democracies. so it seems like you're suggesting that your country is different from america. that y'all focus more on policy rather than "spectacle". i am skeptical of this claim but for the sake of this discussion, i'll grant it and assume it's accurate. so you come from a policy-heavy democracy. okay. this just further confirms to me that you're a european.

okay. so you live in a country full of nerds and policy wonks. good for you.

here in america? we are men. we are loved by the gods. and we are alive. we like to kill and we like to fuck. there is still red-hot blood in our veins! it's called the political arena for a reason. like the colosseum. arena means "place of sand," because gladiatorial arenas were covered in sand to soak up blood. american democracy isn't some mundane policy debate. boring, lame, and soulless.

no, american democracy is spirited and mythic. it is a place where men do (political) combat. a test of wills and destiny as much as skill. where not just survival is at stake, but everlasting glory too. the (political) arena is a sacred stage. a hallowed ground upon which the fates of men and nations are decided. you cannot even begin to comprehend the power of the american people. count yourself lucky to be able to bear witness to the divine struggle.

yes, yes. it's spectacle. it's theater. it's performance. so what? this is all to say that it is an art form. american politics is politics as art. fuck your spreadsheets. we're mythmaking here! and here, in the land of heroes, the lines between myth and reality are blurred. american politicians aren't policy wonks here to give the people policy briefs. no, they are larger-than-life symbols that represent the very complex and tangled psyche of the american people. they are vessels through which the people's hopes and fears can be expressed. they are an embodiment of the collective soul of the nation at a particular time.

and this is why i take some issue with the idea of it being "spectacle" because the term implies that the people are just passive observers but i don't agree. the people are active participants and co-creators in this mythmaking. casting votes, doing activism, attending town hall meetings, writing legislators, donating, volunteering, etc. these are all deeply engrained in the american psyche. and when they vote they're not just doing some rationalistic cost-benefit analysis of the policies. they are curating a particular national character, an emblem of their vision of what america is or should be. in this way it is literally collaborative mythmaking.

and a great people (like we americans) admire greatness. and so it's not enough for a person to have good policy. they need to be great and inspiring. policy isn't going to get people fired up. but a great leader will. he will ignite, move, and seduce the people's imagination. and truly, i think this is part of what makes america so great.

yes, policy is important. but it's not the most important thing. policy doesn’t make the hair on your arms stand up, doesn’t fill a stadium, doesn’t pull people out of their beds and into the fire. americans understand this. we the people are the directors casting the symbolic figures who will stand at the heart of america’s ever-unfolding story, in a way that is raw and passionately human. american democracy is a never-ending collaborative ritual of becoming.

you want to paint it as something shallow but it's actually the opposite. it's as deep as you can get. it's primal. it's reaching into the depths of the human soul. you call it a spectacle; i call it a mystery play. a dramatic unfolding of archetypes and primal forces, a cosmic pageant where the ideals of freedom, justice, fear, and power are constantly manifesting, clashing, and transforming.

and this isn't to say that every american politician is great, obviously. or that every election will present us with great politicians. it is a sliding scale and there are obviously lulls and low points. but honestly, even at its "worst" it still manages to be very sacral. i mean, just look at kamala. she was a deeply unpopular nobody, painfully banal and unimpressive, and yet she was still elevated to some kind of notability by the dems' party apparatus (again, pageantry and theater is a key part of this) and you had ordinary citizens who really loved and believed in her. i've seen videos of young women approaching her and sobbing with a mix of fear and hope. kamala, like many politicians, was a mask. a ceremonial persona that channels a force larger than themselves. each political figure is a vehicle for the expression of the archetypes lurking within the public psyche.

the "spectacle" of american democracy, then, is not shallow or trivial but profoundly alchemical: a process through which the invisible forces and latent desires of society become visible, embodied, personal. every campaign, every rally, every soundbite is an incantation in this larger ritual, a symbolic offering that speaks to the fears, the aspirations, and the boundless imagination of the public.

and even the controversies and scandals should be thought of in this context. not as distractions from governance but as necessary rites of purification and trial. the political arena is where these figures are tested; subjected to ritual humiliation or exaltation, challenged to expose themselves and submit to judgment by the people.

ours isn't a democracy of facts and figures but myth and memory. like i said earlier, it's politics as art. and art is about redemption. american democracy is about the peoples' need to see itself reflected and redeemed. like in any play.

our leaders aren’t simply decision-makers (though they are certainly that too)—they’re dream-bearers, keepers of the national spirit, actors summoned to embody what is essential, unspoken, even taboo. they’re the protagonists of a public dreamscape where american ideals aren’t just principles but living gods, bending and twisting to reflect the collective will of the people in real-time.

and so this isn’t just a political process. it’s a public initiation, a ritual that binds the people not through rational calculation but through shared mythmaking. policy might structure society, but it’s this ritual of personality, this living myth, that keeps the american spirit alive, forever restless, forever reinventing itself on the sacred stage.

and i think this captures the original, ancient, most authentic sense of democracy. i can't imagine ancient greek, roman, or even germanic leaders going around giving policy briefs. no. they were men of charisma and vision, capable of inspiring and igniting the people. they made promises, sure. "i promise i'll get you, my soldiers, land." but this is different to having a strict policy regime. a promise is so much nobler and sacred. maybe they didn't have all the details of how they'd achieve it figured out. but they made the promise. and there's the expectation they'd keep it. if they didn't, they were doomed. and even their rhetoric was more like a magical spell than rationalistic discourse. i think that's what y'all are missing. the art of rhetoric. appealing to reason is important, but it's only one part.

i think you policy wonk types are too logos-brained. not enough ethos or pathos. and i think america has all three in spades. indeed, i kinda take umbrage with this idea that americans somehow don't care about policy just because it isn't the only thing we're preoccupied with. because if you look at the world, america seems to have a pretty excellent track record. our policies and our institutions have turned our country from a colonial backwater into a global hegemon in a couple centuries.

and that's the other thing. our leaders aren't obsessed with policy, sure. but they do make promises. and yeah many promises are broken. but others are not. but that's all part of the drama. promises made, promises kept, promises broken. it isn't some empty spectacle like you're suggesting. just because americans aren't obsessed with policy like you doesn't mean we don't care about policy at all. we just approach it from a different angle. these promises are sacred to us. the "spectacle" can't just be empty. it has to be meaningful. there has to be something tangible/substantial.

american's aren't just tuning in for the show. they expect very real transformation and change, obviously. it's not always presented in some rigid policy brief, but still. the expectation is there. the promises represent a broader vision. the details are less important. and the execution of this vision is dependent on the greatness of the leader. a great leader will make these promises and present a vision to the people and then carry it out. and they'll make whatever policy changes they need to do so, most of the time. in this way, great leaders are like alchemists who can turn abstract policy into something material, translating the mythic into the real. it gives weight and purpose to the "spectacle".

so yeah i reject this idea that americans don't care about policy. i think we do just in a different, more holistic way than you do.

yes we americans elect our president in a fashion similar to my ancient german ancestors elected their kings; in roaring assemblies of freemen possessed by frenzy joined together through a moment of communion and electing our leader by acclamation; bestowing upon him the responsibility of guarding and guiding the wyrd (fate) of our people. i feel no shame about embracing this ancient spirit of democracy, when our leaders were more than mere soulless administrative policy-makers.

last thing i'll say. american democracy, as mentioned earlier, is a ritual of becoming. because america itself is a nation of becoming. it is not a calculation. it is a movement. from the very moment of our birth america has been defined by dreaming and yearning and creating. a nation of possibility and boundless potential. always asking "what if?" and achieving the impossible. the american ideal of freedom, of freedom of expression, is so deeply romantic. it cannot be understood rationally. we americans have a promethean fire in us. insert "you wouldn't get it" meme.

america is a land of new beginnings, where reason, society, and even government are bent and shaped by human passion, a place where history can be remade because the people are driven by ideals rather than chains of tradition.

i mean, look at our founding document. the declaration of independence. it's a poetic manifesto more than anything else. a titanic declaration of defiance and the promise of a new vision of a new world. and my great-spirited ancestors were willing to die for this. and you're really surprised that americans today are a people driven by passion and heroic ideals and myths?

we are americans. we are men. we still have red-hot blood in our veins and fire in our hearts and i won't apologize for it!

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stalkerofthegods · 7 months ago

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Odin deep dive

Odin is a wisdom god and a war god, given up his eye for sight in wisdom, may he send blessings upon all of his worshipers.

Herbs •mugwort (oldest of all herbs), plaintain (mother of herbs), stonem, root (drives away evil), wormwood (venom-loather), chamomile, wergulu (maybe chicory), apple, chervil, fennel, chamomile, crab-apple, stinging nettle, mugwort, sweet cicely, corn salad/rampion, monkshood, Amanita muscara, yew, mistletoe, Ivy, juniper, rye, poppy, clover,

Animals• raven, crows, horses, eagle, bear

Zodiac • He was born at the beginning of the time so he doesn't have a birthday... sorry...

Colors • Grey, deep cobalt blue, black, blue

Crystal• gold, amber, and jasper

Symbols• his staff, his horse, raven, hats, runes, tree of Yggdrasil

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• necklaces that remind you of him and rings

Diety of• war, half of the death, heroes, magic, runes, poets, wisdom, rulers, sovereignty, shamanism, the dead, ecstasy (the reasoning in patron), prophecy, healing, royalty, the gallows, battle, victory, frenzy,

Patron of• war, half of death, heroes, magic, runes, poets, wisdom, rulers, sovereignty, shamanism, the dead, ecstasy (the reasoning behind this is that he has epithets calling him this, and also because he holds the item of the magical mead, and he ventures around the world, simply for his own "pleasure", and his historical mentions of fertility around this god, I may be wrong but I do think he is also a fertility god, and since ecstasy is also believed to be caused to be from desire, and since he inspires the desire for poetry that could also be a point, and also his ecstasy for war, also contributing for his desire for knowledge.), prophecy, healing, royalty, the gallows, battle, victory, frenzy, intoxication,

Offerings• Your blood (not from your wrists or any heat points because that could mean ur livelihood ur offering to him, and he had human sacrifices to him back then, but please be careful, and please sterilize the tools before and don't do this as self-harm get away, he will get pissed!), apples, arizona tea (UPG), books, stuffed animals of his animals, tree imagery, toys of thrones, imagery of thrones, wine (he does not drink or eat food, for wine is both water and food for him, so his dogs eat his food, so make sure to keep in mind wolf/dog-friendly food, like spices/etc.), dog treats, meat, rye, thorns (from a myth when he put a valkyrie to sleep as a consequence for sabotaging a battle), mead, beer, ale, fruit, berries, vegetables, Spearlike vegetables (ex- leeks, asparagus, garlic)

Devotional• Learn runes, write runes on flashcards and bottle caps or play cards or coins to learn them, study, do your homework, research things you are interested in his honor, take care of yourself, think out of the box, learn new skills, set boundrys, donate to war veterans and animal shelters in his name, drink alcohol or something you love to him (raise a glass to him ), eat 3 meals a day, work on communication skills, learn cartomancy/pyromancy/shufflomancy, honor your ancestor, write down and interpret your dreams, work with veterans, do community service in his honor, learn basic med, face your fears, create things that remind you of him (art, tapestry, baked goods, etc)

Ephithets• “Master of Ecstasy”, "all father, "raven-god", "army-god", “Father of Men”. “Gautr of Men”, “The Ancient Gaut, “Delight of Frigg”, “Eagle-headed One”, “Attacking Rider” or “Attacker by Horse", “Wealth Friend”, “Enemy of the Wolf ”, “Father of Balder”, “Feeble Eye/Flame Eyed”, “Shield Shaker/Spear Shaker”, “Feeble Eye/

One Eyed”, “Bear”, “Blind One”, “Bale-worker”, “Battle Enhancer”, “Chieftain”, “Brother of Vili”, “Brown One”, “Son of Borr”, “Spearman”, “Lord of Ghosts”, "Sole Creator of Magical Song", “One with a Straight Forehead”, “Ever-Booming”, “Dweller in Frigg’s Embrace", “First Husband of Frigg”,

“Father of Magical Songs”, “Cargo God”, “Journey-Empowerer”, “Burden of Gunnlöð’s Arms”, “Gallows’ Burden”, “Snatch” or “Gain”, “Mighty God”, “Mighty Thule (Poet)”, “Very-Wise/Concealer”, “Much Wise”, “Lord of the Earth”, "One Who Rides Forth”, “The Found”, “Contrary Advisor/Gainful Council”, “Father of Galdor (Magical Songs)”, "Gallow’s Lord", “Wanderer", "Journey Advisor”, “One in a Gaping Frenzy”, “One from Gotland”, “Gautr” (Latinized Langobardic version), “Dangler”, “Spear Inviter”, “Spear God”, “Spear Master”, “Spear Charger”, “Guest”, “Blind Guest”, “Deceiver, “Riddler”, “Seducer”, “Goði (priest) of the Raven-offering”, “God Protector”, “Yeller", “Wand Bearer”, " King of Hliðskjalf", “The Masked One/The Hooded One”, "Gunnlod’s Embracer", “Warrior", “Battle Blind", “Master of Fury” (Romanised Langobardic ), “Master of Fury” (Westphalian), "Skillful Worker”, “Hanged God”, "God of the Hanged", “Hanged One”, “Ruler of Gods”, “God of Gods”, “Teacher of gods”, “Fetter Loosener”, “High One”, “Grey Beard", “One Eyed”, “Lord of Hliðskjalf”, “High One”, “Visitor of the Hanged”, “Blinder With Death/Host Blinder”, “Hang Jaw”, “Host Father”, “Host Gautr”, ” Host Lord”, “Host Glad/Glad of War/Glad in Battle”, “Host God”, “Battle Wolf”, “God of battle”, “Engager of Battle”, “Helm Bearer”, “Screamer” (that's very ominous..), “Famous Lord/Mound Lord”, “Inciter/Thruster/Shaker”, “One Eyed”, “Hatter", “High One”, “Raven-tester”, “Raven God", “Fetterer/Ripper", “Blusterer”, “Roarer”, “Lord of Gods”, “God”

Hrossharsgrani – “Horse-hair Mustache”, “Whet Courage (Mood)”, “Roarer”, “Splendid Ruler”, “Just As High”, “Yellow-brown Back”, “Gelding”, “Iron Grim”, “Horse-wolf/Bear”, “Yule-father”, ”Yule", “Mighty One”, “Old Man”, “Nourisher”, “Long Beard”, “Shaggy Cloak Wearer”, "Lord of Light"

"Lord of the Wild Hunt", “Son of Borr”, “User/Enjoyer”, “Frenzied One” (Old Norse), “Frenzy”, “Divine Inspiration”, “Breath", “Opener”, “Boomer/One Whose Voice Resounds”, “Wished For/Fulfiller of Desire”, “Master of Fury”, “Red Moustache”, “Wagon God”, “Chief”, “God of Runes”, “Mover of Constellations”, “Truth Getter/He Who Guesses Right”, “Truth”, “The Truthful”, “Longbeard”, “Slouch Hat” or “Broad Brim” or “Deep Hood”, ”Long Beard,” “Broad Beard”, “Victory Bringer”, “Father of Victory”, “Victory Gautr”, “Victory Protection”, “Victory Author”, “Victory Tree”, “Victory Successful", “Victory Sure”, “Victory God”, “King/Trembler”, “Treachery Ruler”, “Son of Bestla”, “Friend of the Goths” "Speedy One", “Luller to Sleep/Dream", “Fleeting/Changeable”, “Wise One”, “Wise One”, ”Sweller", “Welcome One”, “Quarreler/Raging, Furious”, "Third”, “Triple”, “Burgeoning/Inciter to Strife”, “Strength”, “Sweller”, “Lean/Pale”, “Double”, “Twice Blind”, “Beloved”, “Foe of the Wolf ”, “Dangler", “Wayfarer”, “Swinger of Gungnir”, “Awakener/Vigilant”, “Ruler of Gallows”, “Ruler of Heaven”, “Father of the Slain”, “Slain Gautr/Gautr of the Slain”, “Chooser of the Slain”, “Slain Tame/The Warrior”, “Slain God”, “Slain Receiver”, “Wayfarer/Waytamer”, “God of Men/God of Being”, “Stormer/Ruler of Weather”, “Contrary Screamer”, “Killer”, “Swinger”, “Friend of Loptr”, “Friend of Lóðurr”, “Friend of Mímir”, “Friend of Altars", “Master of Fury” (Gothic), “Dangler”, “Phallus”, “Smith of Battle”, “Master of Fury” (Allemanic, Burgundian)", “Master of Fury” (Frisian), "Wise Victory Tree", “Wolf”, "Wolf’s Danger", “Wish”, “Terrible One”, “Stormy”

Equivalents• Mercury (Roman), Indra (Hindu), Thoth (egyptation)

Signs they reaching out• seeing his signs, seeing him in a dream, seeing his family and him in dreams, seeing his animals, seeing imagery of him.

Vows/omans• seeing his animals, his blood pact of brothership with loki, and his marriage vows.

Number• 9

Morals• questionably lawfully chaotic

Courting• Frigg

Past lovers/crushes• Jord, some say Freyja, and some say he's married to Freyja and Frigg.

Personality• trickster, his deminer can change easily, one saga describes Odin, “when he sat with his friends, he gladdened the spirits of all of them, but when he was at war, his demeanor was terrifyingly grim.” this shows that he can be a very kind and accepting deity, but he also has another side, so when worshiping his war epithets be aware of this, he is quite competitive. He is also serious and demands respect.

Home• Vahalha

Mortal or immortal • mortal

Fact• He often changed genders just to get passed obstacles

Curses• no knowledge, not being able to go home or know who you are.

Blessings• knowledge, someone coming out of a battle as the victor

Roots• Germanic paganism, perhaps rooted from the Anglo- Saxon gods

Friends• Mimir, loki used to be his friend, Frigg (his wife), Lóðurr, loptr

Parentage• Bestla, and Borr

Siblings• Ve and Vili, loki

Pet• 2 talking ravens called Huginn and Muninn, a magical horse called, Sleipnir, two wolves called Geri and Freki,

Children • Thor, Balder, Hod, Hermod, Heimdall, Vidar, and Vali.

Appearance in astral or gen• Odin is frequently portrayed as one-eyed and white long-bearded, long-haired, wielding a spear named Gungnir or appearing in disguise wearing a cloak and a broad hat and a golden ring, and in the 'astral' he can be seen as anything, but mostly in a human-like form (never seen him in a dream or astral personally.)

Festivals • Yule.

Day • Wednesday.

Status• Ruler of Asier, the father of the gods, has an army of the dead, powerful.

What angers them• disrespect, betraying oaths, and ignoring him.

The music they like• I take it Viking and hunting and gothic/metal music.

Planet• Murcery

Tarot cards• hanging man, the magician, the priestess, the chariot, the

hermit, death, suit of swords.

Reminds me of• goth, bikers (motorcycles), yelling

Scents/Inscene • sandalwood, sage, cedar, mugwort, basically all his herbs except the dangerous ones.

Prayers• Prayer for Wisdom in Teaching

Allfather, Ancient One Eye-plucked Wanderer Teacher of Runes and Mead-stealer Bless me, keep me As I wander and in gift-for-gift, Teach others from Your path

https://sarenth.wordpress.com/2011/02/24/prayers-to-odin/

The Ninefold Blessing of the Allfather

Grace me, Father, with the blessings of the breath of life, and, with the lips that shape the ond into forms beautiful and terrible Grace me, Father, with the blessings of the Runes, with the markings that break fetters and heal the sick Grace me, Father, with the blessings of wisdom, with the discernment and care it brings, with the faculties to use it properly Grace me, Father, with the blessings of pain, with the forging and strength it bestows, with the edge it sharpens Grace me, Father, with the blessings of inspiration, with the knowledge and comprehension it gives, with the ways it opens Grace me, Father, with the blessings of joy, with the openness of receptivity and growth, its seeds, with the way it enlivens life Grace me, Father, with the blessings of power, with the ability to choose and stand firm, with the ability to change the world around me Grace me, Father, with the blessings of intelligence, with the ability to comprehend and deduce the meaning of things, to understand the world in all its complexities Grace me, Father, with the blessings of faith, with the trust and determination to embrace it, to always reach to understand You and the World better, in all the ways I can

https://sarenth.wordpress.com/2011/02/24/prayers-to-odin/

Links/websites/sources • https://www.britannica.com/topic/Odin-Norse-deity https://norse-mythology.org/gods-and-creatures/the-aesir-gods-and-goddesses/odin/#:~:text=As%20mentioned%20above%2C%20Odin's%20name,can%20take%20countless%20different%20forms. https://www.worldhistory.org/odin/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odin https://wytchofthenorth.wordpress.com/2013/04/16/odin-and-herbs-ask-me-about-odin/ https://wanderingwomanwondering.wordpress.com/2017/06/22/deity-offerings-series-for-odin/ https://www.norseshamanism.online/blog-norse-shamanism/offerings-to-odin-and-how-to-make-offerings-to-odin https://www.northernpaganism.org/shrines/odin/writing/altars-and-offerings-for-odin.html https://odindevoted.wordpress.com/2013/07/26/offerings/https://study.com/academy/lesson/yggdrasil-the-tree-of-life-norse-mythology-symbol.html#:~:text=Yggdrasil%20is%20a%20tree%20in,god%20in%20the%20Norse%20pantheon. https://www.tumblr.com/alder-bos/669862051714318336/deities-and-their-tarot-cards-long-post

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

ODIN DOES NOT SUPPORT NAZIS

#hellenic polytheism #the gods #hellenic devotion #hellenic worship #doing the research for you #hellenic #norse heathenry #heathers #heathenry #norse polytheism #norse pagan #norse heathen #heathenism #odin #odin allfather

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ralvezfanatic · 9 months ago

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Currently thinking about older Vampire!Rossi and newer Vampire!Reid (platonic)

Btw, thinking of Spencer turning around season 2 even though the timeline wouldn't match with Rossi joining the BAU.. but let's ignore that bc its my au so !!

Like imagine Rossi teaching Spencer all about being a vampire bc he js got turned and Rossi is like hundreds of years old so he obviously knows much more. Also he doesn't want Spencer to struggle as much as he did when he was just turned.

Rossi telling Spencer all about the myths there are about vampires and how they aren't true or how it actually is.

Ex. Not being able to go inside someones home without permission. You can just walk in, but its impolite, vampire or not..

Or garlic being deathly to vampires. It really isn't. Its either a non deadly allergy or it just makes them sick ! Depends on something that Rossi doesn't remember (I can't decide)

Rossi gets sick when he eats it, which really pisses him off, but it doesn't stop him! He will eat garlic cuz fuck that! (me with my lactose intolerance)

Oh and to keep his fangs in check, they tend to peak out in certain situations. Either when he smells blood he likes or feels threatened. Also when he he's around someone he's attracted to, but he learns to control that more.

Also telling him the best places to get blood, what to avoid in a blood place (shop?), or blood in general. Not that it matters, Spencer would rather die than drink someones random blood, no matter how many tests they had to go through in order to donate.

Which is why he doesn't usually feed much and instead rather starve for weeks until either hes forced to drink a blood pouch or someone close offers him their own !

Rossi teaching Spencer how to transform into a bat, which takes ages because Spencer just can't seem to transform. At one point they thought maybe he couldn't, until one day something just click and he transformed!

Except Spencer got too excited and transformed back.. its okay eventually he learns to transform quickly.

Then Rossi having to teach him to fly as a bat. And since Spencer loves physical activity, and is great at all that stuff, it was easy! (it took even longer to teach him how to fly well, and he still struggles)

Still, Rossi has patience with him. After all Spencer has always been like a son to him, and even more now that they're both vampires.

Sometimes Rossi tells Spencer how easy he has it being a vampire because "back in his day, they were chased around with stakes and shit" (Based on this post!!)

yea idk what else this is all i thought of so far..

idk if this counts as a Spencer imagine so no tags

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galaxyedging · 2 years ago

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Vampire Javier Peña x F!reader

WC:1.8k

Warnings: Smut, swearing, the usual vampire stuff.

Following on from this.

Summary: Javier finds out that his new condition doesn't change his work life as much as he thought it would. It does, however, have massive repercussions in his home life.

Vampiros en Colombia

After Javier's 'sick leave' ended, with Claudia paying him a visit and being completely unsurprised by his condition. ("Honestly Peña, that way you whore around these streets I'm just surprised it didn't happen sooner.") he was sent back to work.

It turns out coke had some competition for the best selling drug in Colombia. Blood, human or vampire, sold pretty damn well too. Vampire blood gave humans temporary vampire-like qualities. It heightened the senses and reflexes. It gave the user increased strength and stamina. We all know the one thing that sells best in all the world so it was instantly marketed as a sex drug.

The taste of human blood was as varied as humans themselves. Everything from blood type, where they grew up, vaccinations, smoker/non-smoker, everything, affect the taste of it. Blood brokers kept a register of all the humans that donated. Javier had been surprised at how little blood it took to keep him going. A small vial a day could keep a vampire alive. Of course, some people just love to over indulge. They could order more vials or pay more to drink straight from the source.

As with any highly sought after commodity, there were unethical practices. Some people were snatched off the streets, mainly women, to work in the many places that offered blood from the source, usually along with sexual services too. Unofficially, each Casa de Sangre had to have a record of all their active donors, including a photograph and if they consented to sexual activity or not. This was only unofficial because no one wanted to go on record about the growing vampire population of Colombia. Least of all the vampires themselves. Who had spent centuries happily living in the shadows. Contrary to the myth vampires weren't complete animals.

Javier had been assigned to search a Casa de Sangre. Armed with the pictures of all consenting members and a, honest to goodness, wooden stake. The air was thick and humid. The smell of blood and sex hung heavy as he made his way up the dark, narrow stairs. The team was small, three men, well, two men, one vampire. They entered quietly so as to not show their hand. Javier listened intently for any sounds of distress. There were none that he could hear. The sounds he did hear went straight to his cock. He was half hard before he even entered the first room. Behind the door to his right he could hear a man grunting and begging for more. The sight that met him had him straining in his jeans. A beautiful full figured woman was riding a man. Her heavy tits and pillowly thighs jiggled pleasant as she bounced on his cock. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy as the man beneath her alternated between begging and licking the blood from her wrist. His free hand squeezing a handful of her breast, the ample flesh spilling out from between his fingers. Once Javier was satisfied that the woman was registered he left. The couple barely acknowledged him the whole time he was there.

Standing in the hallway he adjusted himself, hissing at the temporary relief he felt at his own touch. Taking a breath he tried to calm himself. He always did have a healthy sex drive but since the change it had gone through the roof. Just the lingering scent of you on his clothes was enough to get him going. The older vampires he has spoken to assure him that it would settle down. Right now he wished it would. He was miles away from your wet heat and craving it.

The next room didn't help either. A beautiful vampire stood naked next to the bed. He was younger than Javier, his skin was darker, his hair was shinier and curlier, his body was more muscular, it shimmered with sweat. His deep brown eyes locked with Javier's as his tongue ran up the arm of the man who was on his knees in front of him currently sucking his dick. In a blur of movement he had the man up and bent over the bed. His eyes never seemed to leave Javier's as he fucked the human underneath him like a rag doll. The man came hard yet the vampire seemed unaffected. He carried on pounding him, eyes locked with Javier as if the show was an invitation.

Knowing his current predicament, you had given him permission to seek his release with others if you couldn't keep up. Even with the heat creeping up his spine at the thought of the young vampire relieving the ache in the cock, he couldn't bring himself to step further in the room. He only wanted you.

Ticking off the human on his register, he made his way to the rest of his team. The couple of minutes he spent handing over his info felt like a lifetime. Eventually he got into his car and with a spin of the wheel he pointed it in your direction. His watch showed three AM as he approached your door. Maybe he should just go to his own apartment, not that he spends much time there nowadays. He hovers outside your door, listening to your deep, settled breathing.

Since the change some of his darker thoughts have become a little louder. All perfectly normal, he had been told. An animal instinct had been awoken. Vampires are essential humans just higher on the food chain. Even if most of them choose to, and can, live happily with humans, that predatory instinct is still there. He thought about you asleep. Your body spread out soft and pliant. He wondered if he could sheath himself inside you before you woke. Would your body be as welcoming asleep as it was awake? Would your pussy greedily pull him in deeper? Before he could think his actions through the tip of his cock was nestled at your entrance. You were still leaking cum from his earlier attention. He moaned as breached you ever so slightly.

"Javi?" Your voice was thick with sleep.

"Need it." Was all he could reply as he slowly pushed in deeper. "Please let me."

In response your shuffled down the bed to move your head from the headboard. Sinking onto his cock in the process. "Fuck, Baby. Best pussy I've ever had. You open up so well for me every damn time." A deep moan that trails off into a growl emanates from his chest as he bottoms out.

"Even when you were asleep it was so welcoming." His fingers began to dig into your hips as he lifted them to thrust into you as the angle that makes your eyelashes flutter.

"Or maybe that's what you want. For your body to be pliant for me to use. Would you like that? For me to use your pussy to relieve the ache in my balls. Huh?" The way you clenched around him made his knees quake.

To his shame, Javier didn't really know what you liked in the bedroom beyond him eating you out. He always got you across the finish line before he spilled inside you but he was well practised in that. He didn't take note of anything that particularly got you excited. After drinking from you and having you gush on his tongue, he was so worked up all he could only focus on his own release.

"Is that what you want for me to use you like a whore?" He spat as his pace picked up.

"Yes, Javi!" Your hands were wrapped around the spindles of your headboard at this point. Holding on for dear life as Javi lifted you even higher. He was now on his knees with your legs around his hips pounding into you relentlessly.

A selfish need to drag the moment out hit him. Pulling out he flipped you on to all fours before spearing you on his length again.

"At least the whores I usually fuck like this do it for money. You're even worse. You only do it to be filled with my big cock. You're just a cockwhore."

Out of nowhere he brought his hand down on your ass cheek. The action even surprised him.

Even more surprising was when you moaned. "More, Javi. Please!"

He landed two more blows before he felt you getting close. He suddenly felt the urge to drink from you as you came. Post orgasm blood tasted fucking amazing. He could only imagine how good you'd taste hitting your peak. Looking at your exposed neck in the tiny nightgown you wore to bed he swears he can see your pulse pounding. He'd never drank from anywhere apart from your thigh. He thought about the other places he should drink from. Lapping at your nipples as blood trickles over them. Sinking his teeth into the meat of your ass, the one he couldn't take his eyes off as you moved around the office. Fuck, he loved it. He loved everything about you. Not that he'd said it over the last couple of months that you had been practically living together.

"Javi, I'm close. Don't stop." At this point you were practically fucking yourself on his cock. This side of you was turning him on like crazy. He could feel himself hurtling towards the edge. Being rough with you stirred something inside him that he was afraid to look too closely at. It rose to the surface but he kept it in his peripheral.

"Use me Javi. Cum inside me…..bite me." You tilted your head to expose your neck for him. He knew he had to be careful, it was easier to drink too much from the neck. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you but the darker side of him pushed him on. One of his large hands spread over your neglected tits as the other came up to hold your head in place.

"Yes, Javi. Oh, god, Javi!" Your release dripped over his cock as your blood dripped onto his tongue.

Moaning, he tightened his grip on you as he painted your walls. Thanks to his new state Javi had been able to cum multiple times and still stay hard. This time it felt like he was cumming multiple times all at once. His cum dripped out of you onto the sheets below. His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the taste of you. He couldn't get enough. The blood that he couldn't catch in his mouth ran down your breasts. He couldn't wait to clean you with his tongue. He was so caught up in how you made him feel the words just slipped out. "I love you."

He wasn't sure what response he was expecting, it wasn't the silence he was currently receiving. It took him a beat to realise why you were so silent as you went limp in his arms.

Tags @kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #vampire!javier peña #vampire!javier peña x f!reader #javier peña #narcos au

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