#Mythic Soul Link

[xxmythicravenxx]

A Gift for my Friend!

[steve-s-slut]

👅

[casperghosty]

Am I the only one feeling empty now that GME is over?? All that anticipation and speculation of what might happen the planning the getting up early to watch it, all of it....just over, gone, now all we have is just regular GMM 😔

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: A Love letter for an Introvert.[Pick a mythical aesthetic]

Pile 1-Fairy core, Pile 2-Water Nymph core, Pile 3- Witch core. Left->Right

Introduction

These are love letters to each one of you that picks a pile and if you happen to be an introverted soul walking on this earthly realm of existence give this reading a glance. I hope this works as a perfect- pick me up- for anytime of your day, whether you are stuck with massive amounts of boredom, back home from a tough work day or school day or even if you happen to be trying to find that quiet corner that you feel the most comfortable in, in this loud bustling world. Hope this gives you a sense of reassurance and peace.

The Music to help you today is in the link below:

Aurora- Your Blood

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Pile 1

Dearest Gentle Soul,

I write to you today with a heart full of admiration, for I have watched you navigate the winding paths of life with such grace and quiet determination. You have some qualities that you may not always see in yourself, but that shine brightly to those who take the time to look closely.

You have accomplished so much, my fren. The battles you’ve fought, though often silent and unseen by others, have shaped you into the remarkable person you are today. The world may not always recognize the quiet victories, but I see them in every step you take. Each obstacle you’ve overcome has been a testament to your resilience, a reminder of the power that lies within you.

Be proud, for you have come so far. You have faced challenges that others may never understand, and you’ve emerged stronger, wiser, and more compassionate and determined. Your journey is one of quiet triumphs, and though the road ahead may still hold its share of trials, remember that you are more than capable of continuing to rise above them.

With every achievement, no matter how small, you are crafting a life that is uniquely yours—a life built on the foundations of strength, courage, and self-belief. So take a moment, to bask in the glory of all you have done. Let pride fill your heart, for you have earned it a thousand times over.

With all my love,

Your Fairy Companion [wink wink]

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Pile 2

Beloved Introverted Heart,

Today, I find myself compelled to remind you of the extraordinary beauty that lies within you. Your soul tells a tale of someone with a soul as deep and vast as the ocean, filled with nuances and subtleties that are rare and precious.

Your uniqueness is a gift, a treasure that sets you apart in a world that often celebrates the loudest voices. It is your quiet nature, your introspection, that allows you to see the world in ways that others might miss. You notice the details, the small moments of magic that others overlook. You bring thoughtfulness, understanding, and a calm presence that is a balm to those around you.

There is a power in your stillness, a wisdom in your reflection. You are not meant to conform to the expectations of others, for you are a rare gem, one that sparkles brightest in its own light. Appreciate these qualities, for they are what make you so incredibly special.

Do not seek to change or mold yourself into something you are not. Instead, embrace the beauty of your introverted nature. It is in your quiet strength that you find your true power, in your gentle spirit that you touch the lives of others in profound ways. It is okay to retreat from this loud world from time to time. The world needs your unique light, and it shines most brilliantly when you allow yourself to simply be.

With appreciation,

Your Friend from Seas Apart

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Pile 3

Dearest Kindred Spirit,

I see the path you walk, and I am here to tell you that you are doing incredibly well. The cards reveal a journey that is not always easy, but one that you continue to face with unwavering dedication. You work hard, often without the recognition you deserve, yet you keep moving forward with quiet determination.

I want you to know that your efforts are not in vain. Every step you take, every task you complete, brings you closer to the life you are striving to create. It is in these small, consistent efforts that great achievements are born. You may not always see the progress, but it is there, building with each passing day.

Take heart, darling, for you are on the right path. Your hard work is a testament to your strength of character, your commitment to your goals. Even on the days when it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, know that you have the power to carry it. You are stronger than you realize, more capable than you give yourself credit for.

Do not lose faith in yourself, for the journey ahead is bright with possibility. Keep pushing forward, even when the road seems long. Your dreams are within reach, and your hard work is the key that will unlock them. Remember, you are not alone on this path—your angels walk with you, cheering you on every step of the way.

With unwavering encouragement,

Your Witchy Companion.

[steviebbboi]

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge!

Howdy lads~ exciting news to share:

I just reached a 200 follower count on Tumblr 🎉🎉🎉

I kinda can't believe it? Writing is indeed good for my soul. Interacting with y'all on here has helped me with my mental and emotional wellness due to just finding such great community on here. Thank you for giving me the space to write and for following along/supporting in my writing journey 💖

With that spiel spoken, I wanted to host a writing challenge in celebration of this milestone! *squealing because i'm so excited to host*

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist

*you'll find all writing submissions and writing requests (answered) at the link above*

You could participate by sending in either:

✨ writing request via my Asks (💙)

and/or

✨ writing submissions (💥).

General Rules:

the challenge will start October 1st until the end of November (flexible on late entries for submissions only💥; let's say till mid-December or so).

I'll read/write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill Characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters [and Bucky Barnes specifically lol] (these are my preferences but if there are other characters that you'd like to bring in, just ask me)!

for writing requests 💙, i will only be accepting requests (2 max/person; pls do not send more than 2 asks!) until the end of November.

for writing submissions 💥, go wild! submit as many as you like!

you can do both (send in a writing request 💙 AND send in a writing submission(s)💥) if you want to; rules still apply for the requests though.

use at least one prompt within your request 💙/submissions💥 from the lists below (but def. go crazy if you wanna use more than one! you don't have to claim any prompts).

works can be inclusive! poc, gender neutral, neurodivergencies, mid size/plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

No word limits but please use a 'read more' after 200 words

Works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

tag me @steviebbboi and use the tags #bbboi200celebration and #steviebbboiwritingchallenge in your entry so i can read/reblog your work! (If I somehow lose sight of your submission, please remind me and I'll take a look at it right away ☺️)

Most important one: Have fun!

How To Play:

✨ You must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

✨ Choose one (or multiple 😏) BB's:

Chris Evans Characters

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Curtis Everett

Andy Barber

Hayden/Harvard Hottie

Nick Gant

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Henry Cavill Characters

Clark Kent

Napoleon Solo

Geralt of Rivia

August Walker

Charlie Hunnam Characters

Jax Teller

Raymond Smith *extra brownie pts if you write about him omg*

King Arthur

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes [he's all by himself im so sorry lmfao 🥹]

✨ Choose one (or more) of the following prompts:

*if you don't want to write smut, you don't have to choose anything from the kinks prompt! feel free to only use the following two prompts :)

soft dom!BB

clothes/naked ratio

size kink

slow and deep 👀

breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)

somnophilia

free use

cockwarming

belly bulge

Squirting

consensual non-con

consensual dub-con

cumeating

creampie

anal/or dp

possessive/or protective manhandling!BB

oral sex

orgasm delay

dumbification

daddy/princess kink

overstimulation

sex pollen

prone bone

cockdrunk

threesome (BB/Reader/BB)

ass/pussy spanking

mild degradation

body worshipping

quickie/don't get caught (public sex, threats of exhibitionism, etc.) 😏

Grouchybb! who is only soft with you

Married and loyal!spouse

A/B/O

lumberjack!bb who is a teddy bear on the inside tho

mob AU

biker AU

soulmate AU

mutual pining/idiots in love

childhood besties to lovers

reformed playboy

professor AU

supernatural/mythical (gods, sirens, werewolves, witches, vampires, ghosts, oh my!)

frenemies to lovers

fwb to lovers

locked in AU/forced proximity

medieval AU

fake dating/relationship

sharing one bed

polar opposites attract

break up and make up

spy AU

meet cute

cowboy AU

gentle recluse!BB

brothers best friend!BB

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes, take it, slut"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"God, why do you always do this"

"You're impossible."

"Then I guess we gotta be quiet, huh?"

"We're trapped."

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, or do you?"

"You're taking me so well, baby"

"Good girl" *for fem readers; adjust accordingly!*

"Tsk, uh-uh, c'mere, honey"

"You always feel so good around me, baby"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Here, let me help you."

"Yeah, are you a cockhungry slut, now?"

"I hardly think that that's necessary."

"Don't be a brat, baby."

"Aw, does it feel good right there?"

"I'm sorry!"

"What do you want from me?!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Nope. Again."

"Don't worry, I got you."

"Just stay still, there you go."

"Just one more, I promise."

"C'mon, don't you wanna be good?"

"Stay over there!"

"You better hurry up, baby."

"Thaaaat's it, you're doing so well, honey."

"Uhm, I'm not sure that's going to work."

"Please, I'll beg, please!"

"Be honest."

"Be careful there, darlin'."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you sure you wanna go there?"

Scenarios? Any! Go. Wild.

✨ I love reading/writing angst w/HEA, soft dark (nothing too dark though), fluff and SMUT (as you can see w/the many many kinks).

no incest (stepcest is ok if tasteful lol), no infidelity, no watersports, no murder, no gore. if you're unsure if a trope is appropriate, ask me!

if im ever uncomfy with writing something, i will lyk and we can talk more about it to see if we could work with it!

feel free to ask any questions!

i think i got everything!

Have the best time, laddies~ thanks for celebrating with me!

All are welcome to join in the fun! ❣️

Tagging a few mutuals who may be interested but no pressure bbs:

@bigtreefest @mercurial-chuckles @stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork @buckets-and-trees @hotdamnhunnam @laurfilijames

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @misscherry-26 @stellar-solar-flare

@darsynia @navybrat817

[shallyouobeyme]

Castle

Platonic!Yandere Vampire ErasterMic!Family x Toddler!Reader (GN)

Summary: Upon a hill over a small town stands a castle. It's vampiric inhabitants get a sacrifice every generation, but one year, they find a little child bundled up in a blanket at their door.

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Sacrificing a child (you), mention of mugging, fighting, attacks, murder + torture (not descriptive and not towards reader), vampires, being turned into a vampire, illness, dark content, I do not condone this - this is all just fantasy

There was a custom in a small town lying in the valley under a hill which adorned the horizon along with the great castle standing on top of it unshakable, permanent, unaging - just like its inhabitants. There were legends going through generations of people living in the castle's shadow. According to them, the castle housed four very specific, mythical creatures. A man of shadows who could only be seen in the night and whose sight was said to be linked with an imminent death. A banshee who could act like a siren and lure you in, only to them scream with the voices of all the souls who have lost their lives because of him. An undead boy who could make you see things, hear things, do things, which would shake any living thing to their core. And at the last, a girl pale as a sheet, with hair white as snow - a ghost, said to be one of their former victims (according to some even their first), who was hunting the castle to warn others who'd share her fate and remind the creatures who had caused her death of their rotten soul.

Along with the legends and myths, the custom developed as well - it came from a place of fear and dread, from a time when deaths rid the town of most of its people and the only cause they could discern was that they had attracted the anger of their mythical watchers - and now it was common practice for every generation to chose a sacrifice to bring to the gates of the castle to gratify the rage of it's owners. Usually, it would be one of the elderly who volunteered themselves, knowing that they had not long to live and wanting to see what all the legends were about at least once in their life. Because except for the sacrificial rite no one was allowed to climb the hill to the castle.

By the time the most unusual and determinative sacrifice happened, the medics of the town had realized that the deaths they had in the past blamed on the creatures were caused by natural reasons - most crucial, the plague. But still, the custom stayed, because why would they change the habit that had kept the townspeople safe for all these years? There was just one thing that was different by that time - it had probably been the result of more health and people having fewer children - but for the first time in generations, there were no elderly who were close to dying, all the elderly who were around were still healthy and fit. And so, one family offered to make the ultimate sacrifice, as they had a young child of only a few years of age who they'd be bringing to the gates. The child was old enough to walk and talk, but not old enough to understand what was happening. And furthermore, the child was ill and sickly. They had been born with their ailment and the doctors saw no possibility of betterment, giving them only a few more years of life before the ailment would take them.

And so it was decided for the best all to lose their child in exchange for the happiness of all the other children they would have and that were living around them. On the night of the summer solstice, their parents put the child into warm clothes and carry their sleeping form up the hill. They knew that the least they needed to do was bring them away together and spend their last moments on this earth as a family. When they arrived at the gate, they rolled their child in a blanket and laid her down in front of it, before the father took the mother's hand and used the knocker that would never work from that distance at any other house. The parents gave their child one last kiss and then solemnly made their way back down the hill to their lives.

On the opposite side of the gate were a family at dinner - or at least as similar to dinner as it was possible for this family. They were sitting around a table with chalices before them, filled with dark, red, liquid that some might assume to be wine. It was not. The family had been living in the castle for centuries. And it was not the fathers and mothers of the people living in it now, no, it had been the exact same people as were sitting around the table now, unchanged like the building they were living in. Unlike what the townspeople assumed, the family of vampires had no interest in ending the lives of the people below them, they had long since switched to an animal-based diet. Still, they also had no interest in stopping their little habit of sacrifices, because it kept them unbothered, and kept the people of the town just afraid enough to not dare enter their homes. And since the sacrificial humans were usually already smelling of death, they had no issue putting them out of their misery - giving the old humans the happiness of letting them know what they had been wondering about for their entire lives.

As the family was talking about the latest news and interests that had been going on in their very exclusive, very secretive society of vampiric creatures spread around the entire world, Aizawa looked out of the window and sighed. He wondered about how fast the last 25 years had passed, but stood up and went out to the gate nonetheless. He wondered a little bit about the unusual breathing and heartbeat pattern heard coming from the human. It had been centuries since he had bothered with visiting or listening to other humans so while his ears were as good as ever, he had some difficulties distinguishing between the differences in them just based on their sounds and smells. So he assumed that this human was just weaker than usual.

All this led to all the more of a surprise when he opened the gate and found not an elderly human looking to find their end for the greater good, but instead a little bundled-up child. You - looking slightly younger than their own daughter had been when she was turned by a nefarious vampire looking to extend their clan - looked so weak, so frail, and as Aizawa looked at you, for the first time in centuries he was reminded of his own time as a mortal. Back then he and Yamada had to hide their love, their romance forbidden for multiple reasons. Not only were they both men, no they were also part of opposite sides of a war, though on the nights when they both sneaked away to spend their time embraced without having to worry about the rest of the world, they spent their time dreaming of having a life together, living without fear and most importantly, taking care of a little life of their own. A child. And when they had been turned, that dream had been mostly fulfilled.

Now they were powerful enough to live without fear together and a few decades later they stumbled upon a dying boy - a mugger who had stolen from them earlier, but as they hunted him down to get their stuff back they found him giving away the stolen goods to the children living in the street without a way to make their own way of survival. When he had also thrown himself in the way of a fight that had escalated and an attack meant for Yamada, it had been clear to them they could not leave him to die. And so they turned him and gained their son. And while they loved him as if he was their own - he was in a sense, the bond forged by turning someone almost as strong as the bond of blood mortals had - he had still already been a young adult when they had 'adopted' him.

Their gaining Eri for their family had been similar. She had already been a vampire for years when they had saved her and while she still looked the part of a young child, she had already been mindful and conscious of things a child would never be, she was a teenager or even an adult trapped in the body of a child.

So when Aizawa looked down at you, he saw this dream of theirs, the dream of raising a child of their own, and he saw the possibility of that now happening. When he brought you back in it was safe to say that his idea was taken in with a lot of enthusiasm, Yamada taking you out of Aizawa's arms and cuddling you close to him - so very happy to have a little you like you so close to him. Oh, how adorable you were, how precious - it was like he finally found what he was waiting for all of his immortal life. Eri was over the moon as well, stating that she had always wanted to be a big sister, that she'd do her best to make sure you'd grow up safe and surrounded by love, and that she wouldn't let anything harm you.

Shinsou was the one who stated something that the rest of the family had forgotten to think about through their joy. Someone had sacrificed you to them, had left you to what they thought to be a soon and possibly painful death. Shinsou's eyes were filled with rage, infectious rage and bloodlust that he hadn't felt since he'd been turned first, as he thought about how someone could leave such a little, weak thing as you to your death knowingly. And so, you were left with Yamada who was not quite ready to let go of you yet, and Eri who insisted on you getting a room near hers (even though you'd spent your next years sleeping in your new parent's bed) and to be there when you awoke to keep you calm in your new surrounded.

While they were already planning your new life, Aizawa and Shinsou made their way down that hill for the first time in a long while, with fire and fury in their steps, knowing that they'd leave no one alive - all of the townspeople at fault for letting you be sacrificed in their eyes. They had only had you with them for less than a day, but one look at you cuddling into Aizawa and Yamadas was enough to have them put you into their hearts and they'd bring hell before letting you go again. So no matter if young or old, male or female or in between, sick or healthy, every single mortal in that town paid their due that day, most of all your own parents whom they recognized by their smell and made suffer for as long as they could before they felt like they needed to see you again to make sure you were doing okay and ended your families misery.

It was clear that your life would be very different from now on, you would be coddled and loved, spoiled and protected. You were still so young that you didn't really worry about the fact that there were these strange people calling themselves your daddies and siblings for longer than a month or two, after that, you accepted your new situation. You enjoyed the attention, loved playing with Eri, dressing up with Yamada, taking naps with Aizawa and getting told stories by Shinsou. Your new life was happy and joyful and you didn't even notice how protective and obsessive your new family was. Leaving the castle wasn't an option anymore - which you didn't worry about too much given how big the castle felt to you - and neither was being alone. There was always one of them with you unless you were sleeping, and even then someone was close to you, close enough to race to you when they heard the difference in breathing patterns of you waking up.

Upon multiple protective measures, it was Shinsou who took it into his hands to tell you stories that made you scared of being alone and leaving the safety of your home - it hurt him to see you so scared, but the feeling of having you run into his arms for comfort when you were afraid of a shadow outside of the window, made it all worth it. Only once you started seeing evil in anything outside and started fearing things around you once you were alone did he tone it down a bit, knowing that he would not have to worry about you leaving them for the time being. His parents had claimed that it wasn't necessary since someone was with you at all times, but they didn't intervene when he started so he assumed they were fine with it.

Aizawa and Yamada loved having your young innocent around them, it reminded them that there was still goodness left in the world, but they still decided that they would not turn you until you were old enough to agree to it. They couldn't promise that they'd listen to you even if you didn't agree - already knowing that they could never let you go - but they at least wanted you to have the opportunity to feel like you made the choice on your own.

Of course, there was still your illness. Your family had many connections in the world thanks to their community of vampiric friends so they had access to the top medication and the best doctors and you got all of that. Everything to make sure you were as healthy as possible and relieved of any pain. The only thing that might change the way they had decided your turning would go would be if your condition worsened if there was no chance of healing anymore. Then, turning you would be an immediate reaction. And who knows, maybe them having you being their little toddler for the rest of eternity - never growing and being coddled by them to make sure you stay as innocent as you are now - was the best thing that could happen to you since they had found you at their gate.

N/A: Thank you to @dumpster-dive-reading for the inspiration behind this and thank you all for reading this. If you enjoyed it I'd love to read your thoughts. Tomorrow's entry for Yandere Writetober is going to be 'dagger' and let's just say while I'm not sure yet, I have a very mischievous character in mind for this. See you then ❤️

[bethelighthalazia]

Chapter 1 - A journey´s beginning

Summary:  Y/n witnesses a fight on the village´s market and things start to get stirred up in her life. Who are these strangers and why does she feel that something about them will decide her fate?

Genre: adventure, fluff

Pairing:  ?? x fem!half-siren!reader

Additional Characters: ATEEZ, Stray Kids

Word Count:  2014

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of weapons, fighting

Networks: @mirohs-aurora-society

Notes: There might be an explanation ‘chapter’ for some things, only if you all want/need it. As for now, ‘mother rain’ is just a name that y/n has given her parent. The being itself does use any pronouns, but is feminine appearance wise, which is why y/n calls them mother.

additional links: << PrevCh Masterpost Next Ch >>

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

“When the red moon rises, And paints the land in its fiery shade. A child shall be born to land and sea, Its’ heart's voice with the power to unite. The path will be torn,  But a heart's melody will lead. Clawed embraces like a thorn, The one eyed’s Illusion offers a home. When the child gains powers,  Land and sea their witness and friend. Deep ocean's bell calling home all sirens, To gather under one heart's voice. A new queen will be raised to her throne,  Her call heard far and near. Friends won't shy, fighting for her to rise, When blood is against her, seeking demise.”

It had been eons since the last red moon hung in the night sky, so the excitement rose high when the birth of y/n fell on the day of this very rare lunar event. Highly anticipated amongst the sirens of this clan, since the child born on this day would become the ruler of their entire species, even though y/n was only the outcome of her mother being bedded by a human pirate. Excitement was replaced with disappointment the moment y/n took the first breath of air and water, because even though she looked as if screaming from the depths of her lungs, no sound was heard. The girl was born without a voice. How could this thing become their queen one day? This had to be kept a secret, the child disposed of very quickly. So, in the dead of night, one chosen of the clan's warriors was sent to bring the child to the highest mountain of the nearest island, so it would not be able to touch the sea and soon starve and dry out. 

Fate had different plans for this half siren though, and even if left for its death, the child survived thirteen days without food or water before she was found by none other than the soul of the sea itself. Disguised as a human being, they took her in and raised y/n, naming her after a mythical remedy that had long been forgotten. The child's youth was filled with warmth, wonders and love, protected and sheltered by the incarnation of the sea itself, yet living in a small hut on land.

Years went by and the little rainbow scaled half-siren rose into a beautiful young woman, her white hair shimmering in all the colors of the light when swimming in the water. While growing older, she learnt to hide her scales from human eyes, so she could walk through the nearby village, sirens have always been feared and often hunted. Every time she'd leave home to visit the market, y/n had been told to be careful. “Remember, my child. The wolves control these lands, do not cross the crescent moon pack.” The sea always told her and, once again, the young woman nodded with a smile. Y/n had heard these words often enough that they have carved itself into her mind by now. The basket for goods from the market in hand, her flute and a bag with some coin attached to her belt, the young half siren walked over to her parent, kissing their forehead.

‘Do not worry, mother rain. I will not stray from my path. My friend will accompany me again.’ Y/n communicates, using her hands and a language without words for this. Not many people understand her, nor do they want to, most of them call her way of communicating a work of magic and don't want anything to do with it. At the name y/n had given them, the sea let out a melodic laugh, shaking his head. “You have yet to explain to me why you call me that, my little tadpole,” they hum, cupping the girl's cheek for a moment before sending her off to the market. 

Why does y/n call them mother rain? She doesn't quite know herself. Mother, because they always have been there for her as far as she could remember. They're her mother, it's that easy. Rain, because - well, why? Walking down the dirt path to the village, y/n kept thinking about an explanation and before entering the market, she found it. The falling rain always has been soothing for y/n, the feeling on her scales, the sound it makes when hitting the ground, it just made her feel safe and calm. Mother rain had the same effect for the young woman. And she never learned her parent’s real name, nor is she aware that they are the sea itself.

“Y/n! Over here,” a familiar voice called out when y/n neared the village, drawing her attention to the young male, who's crouched on a boulder. His ashen brown hair falling into his face didn't hide a new scar under his eye. Her eyes wide and brows furrowed in worry, y/n pointed at the scar when she came closer, causing the young man to chuckle. “This? Oh, it's fine, don't worry.” He hummed, jumped off the boulder and stepped closer to y/n, so she could inspect the scar. “Wolves do cry sometimes. I just had to be reminded of it.” Now that y/n was able to see it up close, the scar reminded her of tears trailing down the man's face, causing her to huff out some air. “Don't be upset, please. It didn't hurt…well, not badly at least-” His words drew another huff from y/n, who shook her head. Her best friend often misjudged the gravity of some of his actions, so he got into trouble a lot and therefore got punished by - well, she's not sure by whom. Although, now that she thought about it - he usually referred to himself as one of the wolves. Y/n always downplayed this as him joking around, but what if he really is one of the feared pack controlling these lands?

A tap on her nose pulled her out of her thoughts, causing her to look up at the face of her friend. Jeongin never judged her, nor did he ever harm her or get her into dangerous situations, so why should she judge him? Even if he was one of the pack, she would never want to lose him as her best friend, one of the only people in this village who liked her and talked to her. “Did Rain send you to the market again?” The young man asked, gesturing towards the empty basket and when y/n nodded, he took her hand to walk with her to the village. Jeongin never cared or minded that she was mute, he didn't need to hear her talk to understand her. Being dragged after the young male, y/n gave a silent chuckle, but then stopped, holding Jeongin back from walking further. She could sense something familiar, something that sent a shudder down her spine; she felt the presence of another siren. 

“Huh? What's wrong, y/n? Are you not feeling well? I can bring you back to Rain, if you like-” Jeongin stopped, his head snapped towards the market, because sudden shouting and other noises came from there. Both of them looked at each other before the young male started running towards the commotion, y/n stumbling after her best friend. It only took them a few moments to reach the market and both could see what caused the noises. People hurriedly put away their wares and tried to get their market stands out of the way, while others were standing around the entry to the tavern.

Eyes wide, y/n let go of Jeongin's hand when the young male hurried towards the commotion to talk to one of the people around. The young half siren also stepped forward, freezing in place when she saw what's happening. A young man with dark hair and one eye covered by a bandage was fighting with someone else. 

“Hyung! What happened?” y/n could hear Jeongin's voice and she walked over to him, grasping the young man's arm with a frightened expression. “Jisung, why is your mate fighting that man?” The one Jeongin spoke to was trembling slightly, looking worried to the fighting people before turning to the younger male. “This man shoved me, I- I accidentally bumped into that man's friend-” Y/n could sense that the man Jeongin called Jisung was nervous, maybe even scared, so she put a hand on his arm gently, trying to calm him down.

A collective gasp drew the young woman's attention, her hands going up to her mouth when she saw what happened to cause this. The black haired one, who was wearing the same clothes like Jisung, had managed to cut, or rather claw, the other's chest. However, the other didn't seem to give up, despite the begging of his friend, a white haired male. “Hongjoong, please! Stop it, or this wolf will kill you!” The man pleaded, causing y/n to freeze, her eyes widened in realization. That white haired person was the siren she sensed, another half siren! 

“Minho, stop!” Another man walked onto the marketplace, but he didn't seem in a hurry. He looked intimidating, a scar across his face and the fur vest not covering much of his torso, which also was scattered with old and some seemingly newer scars. His voice actually made the fighting male stop, it had something like an echo to it, as if he wasn't the only one speaking, yet no one else had opened his mouth. What seemed off to her, was that Jeongin and Jisung also cowered at this voice. “Chan, he attacked Ji-” “Stop! We do not start fights with guests of the village, Minho!” The man, Chan, hushed the other quickly, none of them noticing the movement from the one eyed one called Hongjoong.

Y/n did notice though and before he could attack the others again, she rushed between them, stomping on the ground hard once, which sent a little shockwave of water across the area, a faint ring of a bell sounding through the water. This not only calmed the people in the area, but also revealed the rainbow scales on her legs for a split second. Despite that, Jeongin and his friends, as well as the white-haired one and Hongjoong saw it before y/n was able to hide them from view. “Seonghwa, she’s-” Hongjoong gasped and looked at his friend, the white haired guy, but the friend just shook his head. When the young woman looked at Jeongin, she got a glimpse of his shocked expression, but even though he was surprised about this revelation, he spoke up quickly, approaching the injured Hongjoong with y/n. 

“We have to bring him to Rain, they can help.” Jeongin spoke calmly and helped the white haired guy to pick up Hongjoong and support him. Chan watched the scene cautiously, gesturing to Minho to follow their youngest. “You go with him and make sure he comes home in one piece. I'll clean up your mess here, Minho,” the oldest of the wolves hissed, wondering how none of them had noticed a siren living close by. Minho already wanted to protest, but one look from Chan silenced him. 

Leading them down the path to Rain's hut, y/n was thinking about what happened, how shocked the ones who saw her scales were. “Y/nie, Stop worrying-” Jeongin's voice got cut by Seonghwa, who sounded curious rather than upset or scared. “You're a half siren, aren't you?” He asked in a calm manner, still supporting his friend while walking. Y/n merely nodded, her head hanging low. She remembered her parent's words, that most people despise sirens and are afraid of them. The group stayed silent the rest of the way, only when they reached the small hut, y/n got more lively again, hurrying inside and dragging the others with her. The only one who stayed outside the hut was Minho, who was very suspicious of the whole situation around this young woman.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperso, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[theworldofotps]

The Lore of The Demon King

Description: The story of how Finn Bálor came to be Bálor. Word Count: 1,067

Wanted to get a few Halloween type stories out! Massive thank you to my beloved Kay for her help with this. ________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose @99hook @madhatterbri @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @rebellious-desires @surdelcielo @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @terrortwinunicorn @alyyaanna @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456 @mcreignsera @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars @thatnerdwriter​ @sjwrites22​

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _______ In the dead of night, when the veil between worlds thins, the legend of Bálor the Demon King awakens in whispers. Many believe Finn Bálor, the enigmatic Irish wrestler, harbors within him a power darker than the ring has ever known. But very few know the true story of how he became to be the demon king. How a mere mortal came to hold some of most powerful ancient abilities at his fingertips. The most common story tells of Finn stumbling upon these powers by accident.

It was Halloween night, years ago, when Finn found himself lost on an old country road in Ireland. Mist blanketed the ground as a chill settled over him, the crisp autumn air turning stale with every breath he took. His headlights barely cut through the thick fog that seemed to be everywhere, his phone had long since lost signal. He was searching for a way back to Bray when he stumbled upon an ancient stone. One marked by symbols that twisted like snakes, old and weathered by centuries of rain and ruin.  

Ever the curious man and not one to pay much attention to the stories of his childhood Finn climbed out of the car. Taking careful even steps towards the large stone, the moon barely peeking out from the clouds seemed to draw a signal to it. The stone whispered to him, low and relentless, in a language he didn’t understand. Drawn by an unseen force, he traced his fingers over its jagged edges. The stone was hot to the touch, in that moment, the ground opened, and Finn fell, spiraling down into darkness.

When he finally woke up Finn realized that he was no longer in Ireland. He was in a world of shadows, in the forgotten lair of Bálor, the mythical demon of Irish folklore or the original Demon King. Red eyes glowed from every corner of the darkness, watching, waiting. A heavy, suffocating pressure filled the air as Bálor's voice, cold and ancient, drifted toward him. Seeming to come from every direction around him filling his head.

“You’ve called me, haven’t you, Finn?”

Bálor’s voice was a deep, echoing growl that sent shivers through Finn’s body and his heart racing as he tried to gather his thoughts.

“You want to be a king. But to be a king, you must face the darkness within and believe when I tell you the darkness is more than a mere mortal can handle.

Finn tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat as his eyes quickly flicked around the room before stopping in a corner where there was movement. Bálor’s form emerged from the shadows one that made Finn’s blood run cold. He was a towering figure with a single, massive eye in the middle of his forehead, flickering with a hellish light. His skin was a tapestry of ancient scars and painted symbols, his hands ending in claws. The tips seeming to drip black from what Finn could only assume was the essence of lost souls. Without warning, Bálor lunged forward, binding Finn in chains of shadow that tightened around him.

“Feel it, let the darkness consume you, become one with it.”

Each link of the chain sank into Finn’s skin, burning, twisting him from the inside out. The pain was unbearable, the sound of his own screams echoed in his head. But as it took hold, Finn felt something inside him awaken. Something feral, powerful. His body grew heavier, his skin darker, and strange markings appeared all over him, searing into his flesh. His mind teetered on the edge of sanity, but he could sense the power flooding through him, a dark gift from Bálor himself.

“Now you are one of us.”

Bálor hissed, his monstrous smile spreading wide as he watched Finn fall to his knees the power pulsing around him.

“Take this gift back to your world but remember that the darkness will follow you. It will consume you, piece by piece. Until you are nothing… but the Demon.” 

In a flash of blinding pain, Finn was thrown back to the surface, gasping on the cold, misty road. He was alone, but the symbols, the darkness, the feeling inside of him, they all lingered. When he glanced in the side mirror of his car, his face was his own, but in his eyes, instead of the normal blue he saw it. Bálor, lurking in the depths, watching, waiting for his next emergence.

And each time Finn dons the paint, each time he calls himself The Demon King, and wields those ancient powers. The darkness slips a little further into his soul, threatening to take him once and for all.

So, this Halloween, if you hear the echo of chains in the shadows or see a flicker of red eyes staring from the dark corners of the ring. Remember, it’s not just Finn Bálor no it’s the Demon King, the cursed soul of Bálor himself, still lurking, still hungry for a new host.    

[mtchee]

adilla kia akia syulapoe - [Performance Unit] | SPELL SERIES NAVIGATION | FEM

blurb:

A short series of events wherein you meet the guardians of the tides: protectors of their people and humans alike, you're engulfed by a world of mythics, beauty, and fate.

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, fantasy au, mythical guardians! performance unit, merfolk jun, jiaolong (water dragon) minghao, selkie soonyoung, water nymph chan, fluff, intertwined souls, short stories, polyamory, divine intervention, love in its purest form

[0.2k]

Perhaps your dreams weren't so far fetched at all.

This beach view is ethereal, as though you've stumbled upon a hidden oasis.

The waters are crystal clear, twinkling in empyrean blue along the line of the horizon. Soft white sand acts as its canvas, shells shimmering as gentle waves sift over them. Healthy tufts of sea grass sway elegantly in motion with the ginger currents, and you can spot tiny silver fish swimming in and out on occasion, their scales glinting in the sunlight.

You've seen this place in your sleep.

You thought it was a hoax when you saw it advertised in an online ad while you were mindlessly scrolling through your socials: participate in this quick survey for a chance to win a vacation to an elysian paradise!

You had snorted when you first read it, ha! As if. Your thumb clicked on the image link of a much too pretty to not be photoshopped beach, which then led you to a three minute survey where all you had to do was choose which pictures resonated with you the most. It was actually quite entertaining, kind of like those buzzfeed personality tests.

Afterwards, all you had to do was input your email and phone number to be eligible for a chance to win that vaction. You thought why not and did so anyway.

And look where you are now...

stories are released in no particular order unless mentioned otherwise

chapter i | chapter ii | chapter iii | chapter iv | chapter v | chapter vi | tbc~

[robsheridan]

Sisters of the Solstice, part 2 (start with part 1 here). In June of 1975, photographer Sera Clairmont captured the only known documentation of Sweden's mythical “coven of eternal witches,” (as some local folklore refers to them), and published them in Spectagoria magazine issue 11. These are the last of the pages that have been recovered from that issue.

From Clairmont’s text: “The Sisters are women of ritual. Complex layers of rituals for every occasion have collected upon the Sisters’ insular culture over re-generations like stamps on a well-traveled passport. At no time are the rituals more significant than in the weeks surrounding Midsommar, for that is the time of renewal.

“Each Midsommar season, the Sisters chosen for renewal give their physical shells back to the earth. Some depart in rituals of soil, and their remains are used to decorate the land, often raised to decompose as markers of the Sisters’ territory to scare away any men who dare come near. But some of the women - old souls who require stronger magick to transfer - must give themselves to rituals of flame, and [text illegible due to paper damage] reborn in flame. It is in the flame rituals where one understands the depth of the sacrifices the Sisters have endured to survive for so long without men. At dusk, the [illegible] dangerous ancient dark magick, taking a heavy toll on [illegible]… If any mistakes are made, or [illegible] too weak, [illegible] the soul will never return, [illegible] the wrong soul [illegible] …something else comes back.” [the rest is illegible]

---------

NOTE: Spectagoria is an ongoing work of fiction created by me. This alternate reality horror story is part of my NightmAIres narrative art series (visit that link for a lot more). NightmAIres are windows into other worlds and interconnected alternate histories, conceived/written by me and visualized with synthography and Photoshop.

If you enjoy my work, consider supporting me on Patreon for frequent exclusive hi-res wallpaper packs, behind-the-scenes features, downloads, events, contests, and an awesome fan community. Direct fan support is what keeps me going as an independent creator, and it means the world to me.

[drakyns]

I saw that youre writing hiccup+jack but you also claim you want to take a more """historical""" interpretation with your rps? so which one is it?? you have to pick one or the other :/

hello, happy new year! yes, you’re right; i ship and write one of our beloved 2010s dreamworks nostalgic ship hijack with my wonderful best friend and creative soul-mate, @frystsnow. i’ve been having such a fun time! and yes, you’re right again; i am taking a more historical approach and interpretation with my portrayal of hiccup. but no, you’re wrong; i don’t have to choose one or another. my hiccup (håkan) has a more historical take and is queer (demiromantic and bisexual). one does not interfere with another whatsoever.

first of all, thank you for your question! though i don’t know if it stems from genuine ignorance or a hint of homophobia or hypernationalism. either way, i want to extend the benefit of the doubt and commend you for taking the time and energy to send in your inquiry, even as an anon. as someone who specialises in medieval queerness in my current master’s degree and as a licensed history teacher, it’s incredibly heartwarming to see people questioning things (even when it comes to literal fictional ships). i shall not, therefore, take your question as an attempt at an insult. instead, i will respond to you as i would to one of my students and/or the public at a conference. please let me know if you’d like any clarifications, and i’d be more than happy to oblige. should you need such access, i’m excited to send you pdfs of the following scientific articles, too.

i am assuming, by the tone and content of your comment, that you take vikings to be these white-centric, heteronormative, misogynistic and savage-like people, correct? the good old supreme white and straight men propaganda. they were barbarians, blindly bloodthirsty, and god knows how virile they were! they wanted to conquer the world, behead their enemies, muscles and brawl everywhere, grrrrr grrrr! etc etc. the whole spiel of supreme predators/conquerors. this mythical belief has roots in the hyper-nationalism and romanticism ingrained in 18th century northern europe: to prove themselves as worthy, old societies, germany, sweden, denmark, england, scotland and many others utilised their ties with these old tribes and reshaped (rewrote) narratives to fit into their then-current ideals of power, masculinity and politics. an excellent book on historical representation and its rewritings across geographies and due to political influences was written by f. r. ankersmit and a 38-page preview can be found at this link.

it isn’t far off to claim, then, that the use of symbols, narratives and imagery from old norse cultures have been continuously used to represent politics of hate in various countries with the rise of patriotism and alt-right extremism. just look at how john toll’s braveheart (1995) is a hymn to white supremacists in the usa or how european incels love robert zemeckis’ beowulf (2007). i highly recommend reading verena höfig’s article about old norse myths being used as tools for radical nationalist groups and andrew b. r. elliott’s book on medievalism, politics and mass media. “viking men are straight, hyper-masculine and obey this white fantasy of pure dominance.” this way of thinking, shouted and supported by reactionaries, reinforces whiteness, androcentricity, and authoritarianism. medieval scandinavian societies were highly intelligent: being a viking was a profession, not an identity in itself. diplomacy was important for commerce and cultural trade. battle-crazed lunatics were frowned upon, if not straight up removed from tribal settings, as they represented danger to the whole society. a conscious and perfected balance of violence, peace-keeping, trade, conscious pillaging and sea-voyaging made vikings who they were. how else do you think that they kept in contact with asian and african societies? even indigenous ones in americas, too! they were not interested in expanding and conquering more than they could keep and they valued communal efforts. so when contemporary media (tv, books, comics, games) represent our oh-so-beloved macho vikings as being queer or even not all that violent or intolerant, people tend to frown upon such a notion, thinking they’re ludicrous. this, as i’ve continuously expressed up until now, is political propaganda—an old, outdated and incorrect one.

you might here be thinking: “okay balu, i get it, vikings weren’t all that masculine, nor that savage, nor anything, but were there really queer vikings?” and the answer to that is: YES! first of all, queer people didn’t suddenly sprout from the ground all of a sudden. we’ve always existed from the very beginning of times—queerness is humanity itself. have you ever wondered why loki, a literal mythological norse god, is genderfluid and pansexual? he’s also described as one of the oldest of the bunch, alongside odin himself. if a deity exists in mythology, it’s because they represent societal beliefs and practices. or do you think people made up whatever they thought was cool, and everyone just agreed on their ideas, canonising said things in their literal tribal history just because, hey, it sounds neat? it’s more logical to deduce that, since loki existed, people like him existed, too, no? and not only loki—jess nevins has a superb paper on how most of the old norse pantheon are queer gods and goddesses, from gender to sexuality (it’s the first one of the list, though the others are super interesting, too). contemporary religious practitioners of heathenism and ásatrú also heavily embrace and welcome these queer readings. this is further endorsed by critical analysis of old poems such as the poetic edda, lokasenna and others, which contain concepts such as hvatr and blauðr, which are used interchangeably between men and women and their partners, not to refer to their binary genders per se, but about their role as either more submissive or dominating in a relationship.

if you need more “concrete” evidence other than theological, linguistics and culture studies, do not fret—archaeologists and anthropologists also agree that the “viking” (read: medieval pre-christian scandinavian) societies were more queer than most people think. for example, marianne moen studied graves in norway and, with the little samples she had, she concluded something fascinating: the biological sex of individuals (read by the use of double x chromosomes detections or the absence thereof) did not always correlate with their masculine/feminine social roles, i.e by their clothes and materials they were buried! a woman could be dressed highly masculine, and a man completely feminine. unlike our modern societies (that claim to be o so progressive and freeing), they were not bound by fixed societal norms. they were fluid. moen’s study is also a further contribution to hedenstierna‐jonson’s research team findings: in 2017, they found the body of an elite viking-age warrior in sweden, which many historians and anthropologists hyped. at first, they thought the individual was sexed male due to the “maleness” of the objects found in the grave site. however, upon further investigation, they were biologically sexed female (two x chromosomes, bone structures, as well as ritualistic objects for young womanhood). a lot of people wanted to contest such a finding because the belief that women can be powerful rulers and warriors just like men are is something detested by traditionalists, as we all know. however, what was more interesting is that said warrior individual seemed to socially fluctuate between masculine and feminine roles throughout their life (being accepted and honoured by their tribe, by the way), and had a partner that also fluctuated between masculinity and femininity. they were, therefore, both queer in gender and sexuality. as well, ever since the start of the 2000s, studies have shown that queer expressions of sexuality and gender can be found being supported by religious practices and objects—a book called “queering norway”, edited by pal bjorby and anka ryall is fairly popular on that front. it has the contribution of many historians, anthropologists and more on old norse traditions.

lastly, in case you wonder if we can read dreamwork’s “how to train your dragon”’s characters as being queer, the answer is, of course, yes. i will not enter into art studies discussions or literature queerness appropriation theories because otherwise this post would be much longer than it already is, but i will say these points: hiccup is literally described, from the first movie alone, as not being like the other kids. this could be read as him being autistic, as him having adhd, as him being queer. as well, the presence of monsters (especially dragons) in media tends to represent queerness/clash with heteronormative ideals (i recommend checking out jeffrey cohen’s seven theses chapter). it’s a queer series by its very theoretical premises and execution.

[xxmythicravenxx]

I really like the colors I did for this one!

[a-dragons-journal]

I am Very frusted and confused and hope that maybe ive just misunderstood something and that you could clarify ... ive started seeing posts asserting that therian = kinning non-human/humanoid animals that exist in meat space (regardless of extinction status) and otherkin = everything other than that. That's not true afaik. As long as ive been in the community Therian has meant either a synonymon for otherkin, a loosely defined portion of the otherkin community that experices mental/spiritual shifts, or a cluster of loosely connected spiritual beliefs surrounding reincarnation, animism, and non-100%-human souls inhabiting human bodies...iirc the first therians to write abt their experiences were elves

I am a fairy but not kin but i like to look in the various blank - kin tags sometimes and like a good chunk of the top posts in fairy kin tags are by non - fairies with large portions of the posts asserting ( supportively not malicously mind you !! ) that fairy kin are some how not therians by Virtue of being capable of being bipedal and superficially Humanoid in shape OR are not therians in some different unique way **other than that a fairy may or may not self identify as a therian**

Have I been wrong abt this for over a decade somehow?

I am however a mushroom kin (Clathrus ruber) to assure you I am not infact some stranger stumbling into things I don't understand

"your mushroom kin but you being a fairy isnt kin ?? how ??" It's a complicated mix of "our brain interprets fairy as too broad of a category/is a loose affiliation of non-human cultures not a single specific species" and irl adoption trauma

Sorry for the delay in answering this!

So... I really hate to say this, but while the thing you're complaining about is inaccurate, the definitions you've presented are also not really historically accurate. ^^;

People saying that therians are earthen animals and otherkin are mythical creatures are wrong on both points. Otherkin has historically been dominantly mythical creatures, yes, but it has always been an umbrella term for all nonhumans, including earthen animals. And while the "earthen animal" myth became popular for a time, therian historically has not been restricted to earthen animals (one of the earliest therians, before the word therian was even popularized when the term was still were, was a werePontiac!).

That being said, therian and otherkin aren't synonymous either. The two aren't defined by shifts - there are therians who don't shift, and many otherkin who do - and there's no inherent spirituality to therianthropy. (And the elves you're thinking of are the Silver Elves, who were the source of the otherkin community, not the therian one. The therian community came out of alt.horror.werewolves (AHWW), a werewolf fangroup, and was dominantly, well, wolves and werewolves from the start.)

The actual distinction, as per community history, is classically that therians are animals, animalistic, whereas otherkin includes sapient, human-like beings as well. An animalistic dragon fits the term therian; a 100% sapient dragon who lived in a city probably doesn't. The same would apply to fae - many faeries are animalistic in some capacity, many are not.

Daski of the River System @indornaga did an excellent project researching, writing up, and presenting the history of the term therian - that would probably be very helpful to you here. Here's the link to that for more details and also sources on most of the things I've said here.

[mascamaiorum]

The theme of reincarnation in The Legend of Zelda franchise, as it pertains to Link and Zelda, can be examined through the lens of gendered notions of renewal and continuity. These notions shape the significance of reincarnation for both characters, reflecting deeper implications for identity, personhood, and their intertwined destinies.

Zelda: Reincarnation as Lineage and Continuity

For Zelda, reincarnation often ties into the bloodline of the Hylian royal family. Her connection to the goddess Hylia underscores a continuity rooted in the body—each Zelda is a direct descendant, inheriting not just her role but the burden of divine heritage. This aligns with traditional gendered conceptions where a woman’s renewal is tied to natural cycles—birth, lineage, and the perpetuation of bloodlines.

Zelda’s reincarnation represents a renewal of responsibility and trauma across generations. Each iteration of Zelda carries the memory, whether explicit or symbolic, of her predecessors’ sacrifices, struggles, and victories. This inheritance is embodied—Zelda’s identity is as much conditioned by her body (a vessel for Hylia’s power) as it is by her upbringing and circumstances. The physicality of this cycle also aligns with a feminine archetype of natural regeneration, where each Zelda is not a wholly new person but rather a manifestation of an eternal role.

Implications for Personhood:

• Zelda’s identity is tied to obligation and inheritance. She is less an individual and more a part of a larger, unbroken line.

• Her reincarnation emphasizes continuity over change, reflecting the idea that her personhood is shaped by what she carries forward—be it power, wisdom, or trauma—rather than personal reinvention.

Link: Reincarnation as Initiation and Cultural Renewal

Link’s reincarnation takes on a more artificial and cultural dimension, reflecting a masculine conception of renewal. Unlike Zelda’s embodied inheritance, Link is not tied to a bloodline but instead to the role of the Hero, which is bestowed upon him through destiny and initiation. Each reincarnation of Link undergoes a process of awakening, often tied to mastery of skills, acquisition of items, and acceptance of his fate.

Link’s identity is therefore shaped by circumstantial conditioning—he becomes the Hero not because of who he is intrinsically, but because he fulfills an external cultural role. This reflects a broader notion of masculinity as something achieved rather than inherited. His reincarnations emphasize transformation rather than continuity, with each Link being shaped anew by the trials he faces and the world he inhabits.

Implications for Personhood:

• Link’s identity is more fluid and contingent, shaped by external forces like quests, companions, and enemies.

• His personhood is defined by his actions and achievements, rather than by an inherited essence or lineage.

Reincarnation, Metempsychosis, and the Truth of Identity

For the common people of Hyrule, reincarnation might be understood in a simplistic, mythical sense as metempsychosis: the literal rebirth of souls, a fantastic phenomenon where the same individuals return time and again. This perspective aligns with a symbolic and moralistic worldview, emphasizing cycles of good and evil. The truth, as known to the Hylian royal family, is more complex and grounded in the intertwining of destiny, divine will, and cultural roles.

For Zelda, this truth highlights her as a focal point of divine continuity—a symbolic bridge between goddess and people, whose personhood is subsumed by her role. For Link, the truth underscores the constructed nature of his heroism: he is less a person and more a vessel for the cultural ideal of the Hero, an identity imposed by circumstances rather than inherited naturally.

Sharing of Trauma and Legacy

Both Link and Zelda experience reincarnation as a sharing of trauma and legacy:

• Zelda inherits the collective memory and burden of her predecessors, which can restrict her individuality. She is both herself and every Zelda before her, embodying the accumulated weight of the royal line.

• Link, by contrast, inherits the responsibility to act, but his individuality is less tethered to a shared memory. Each Link is a blank slate, conditioned by the era he is born into, which allows him to adapt but also means he lacks a consistent personal continuity.

Symbolic Gender Dynamics

The contrast between Zelda’s and Link’s reincarnations reflects symbolic gender dynamics:

• Woman as natural renewal: Zelda’s identity is rooted in the physical, the inherited, and the cyclical. Her reincarnation ties her to the earth, the bloodline, and the past.

• Man as cultural renewal: Link’s identity is constructed through actions, choices, and initiations. His reincarnation ties him to the ideals and demands of the present.

Together, their roles symbolize the balance of nature and culture, continuity and transformation, in the eternal struggle to preserve Hyrule.

[ausetkmt]

Why did they set up Ta-nehisi Coates ?

the set him up cause he explained their Fuckery - Right Here

Click the Title Link for a FREE DOWNLOAD

THE MESSAGE - TA-NEHISI COATES

THEY KNOW HE KNOWS AND HE'S TELLING EVERYONE

#1 NATIONAL BESTSELLER • NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • The renowned author of Between the World and Me journeys to three resonant sites of conflict to explore how the stories we tell—and the ones we don’t—shape our realities. “Ta-Nehisi Coates always writes with a purpose. . . . These pilgrimages, for him, help ground his powerful writing about race.”—Associated Press “Coates exhorts readers, including students, parents, educators, and journalists, to challenge conventional narratives that can be used to justify ethnic cleansing or camouflage racist policing. Brilliant and timely.”—Booklist (starred review) Ta-Nehisi Coates originally set out to write a book about writing, in the tradition of Orwell’s classic “Politics and the English Language,”but found himself grappling with deeper questions about how our stories—our reporting and imaginative narratives and mythmaking—expose and distort our realities. In the first of the book’s three intertwining essays, Coates, on his first trip to Africa, finds himself in two places at once: in Dakar, a modern city in Senegal, and in a mythic kingdom in his mind.

Then he takes readers along with him to Columbia, South Carolina, where he reports on his own book’s banning, but also explores the larger backlash to the nation’s recent reckoning with history and the deeply rooted American mythology so visible in that city—a capital of the Confederacy with statues of segregationists looming over its public squares.

Finally, in the book’s longest section, Coates travels to Palestine, where he sees with devastating clarity how easily we are misled by nationalist narratives, and the tragedy that lies in the clash between the stories we tell and the reality of life on the ground.  Written at a dramatic moment in American and global life, this work from one of the country’s most important writers is about the urgent need to untangle ourselves from the destructive myths that shape our world—and our own souls—and embrace the liberating power of even the most difficult truths.

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[rubyeyes-rubyscales]

"Is something the matter dear..~?"

At the mouth of cave, a creature with the upper half of a gorgeous man with perfect, milky white skin, snowy-colored hair that reached past his midriff, and alluring ruby-red eyes, and the lower half of a serpent with reddish-black scales rested on a large flat rock, basking in the sun.

Hearing the rustling of leaves nearby, he opened his eyes slowly and demurely and looked up, a lazy smile spreading across soft and rosy lips.

"Ah, is my meal here..?" He chuckled low, pulling himself up to coil on the rock, looking down at the little trespasser who was oh-so brave enough to cross into his part of the wilderness.

"Only kidding, please calm yourself." He sighed, lying back down and leaning over the edge of the rock with a look of complete boredom with perhaps a hint of amusement.

"Well? Is there something you need?" He hissed out between sharp fangs, equally sharp eyes narrowing on the cute prey who stepped into his home.

He blinked with confusion at the newcomers answer, amusement becoming more prominent in those usually dull ruby eyes.

"You want to know about me? Well, I suppose I'll indulge since you seem to have just.. no idea of this place.."

He smiled as though he were planning some kind of plot in the back of his mind.

"My name is Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, darling. I protect all who live in my territory, which is where you are right now. I am.. What you could call a protector. I keep the humans away. Did that satisfy your curiosity?"

Okay so, Shibusawa in @tainted-mutt 's AU is a Naga and somewhat protects the hybrids who stumble upon him. He's a bit shifty, but it's from many years of being isolated and far from any social interactions. His snake half is a sort of russet color with lighter brownish-red belly scales.

In this AU he's around twenty-four, so he's aged down. He's also venomous, just to make this a bit more fun. He genuinely doesn't understand social cues so if anyone tries flirting with him, have fun because he is oblivious!

He's honestly sort of creepy in an unsettling way, which makes sense since snakes are predators. He sees smaller hybrids as "prey" but means in a slightly endearing way. He doesn't eat other hybrids. Not often, at least.

Links:

MORE TO BE ADDED

Angst Posts:

Lore Posts:

Tags:

The snake speaks.. 🐍 (IC posts and interactions)

The soul sends a sign 💀 (OOC posts)

Hello little prey~ 🐭 (Answering anons)

A precious human.. ❤ (Interactions with @mythical-enthusiast )

MORE TO BE ADDED

OOC blog is @asillyprettything hope you like this silly