#achilles temple

[winter-rossie]

Look, I'm Tired of Keeping my Silence, Jason and Reyna are, In Fact, Not in Slytherin. Jason is a Ravenclaw Reyna is a Gryffindor

[gingermintpepper]

hey I hope you’re doing ok!! For the ask game, 🌈? Also perhaps ☔️?💧, even?

Hello hello, thank you for participating ☆ Once again, I can't comment on whether or not this extract is particularly fluffy but I do think it's rather sweet and it's definitely romantic so I think it's good for filling out both 🌈 and 💧!! It's an extract from what I've tentatively dubbed my 'Women and Apollo' doc which is essentially just a big running document I have dedicated to exploring themes and dynamics between Apollo and the women he's been entangled with! This extract in particular is from my Melia section 🥰

The night is a cold sheet spread across her shoulders. She wakes in pieces; first, her flesh, bracketed between the raw heat of Phoebus' bare chest and the sharp sting of the night air's fangs, then her mind, pleasure's fleeting haze quickly swept aside by panic then worry then guilt. What would Kaanthos say if he could see her now, bare breasted and stained in a male-god's desire? What would Father? No doubt she would have to cede the seat of the temple to Kaanthos. How could a carnal woman serve the people after all? And her river - oh, her sweet river! Would his waters even deign to soothe her scales when she was so completely drenched in the scent of a sky-god?

How foolish she's been, throwing everything away just because of some sweet words and a pretty face. Maybe Kaanthos truly did deserve the temple after all. Maybe Melia didn't deserve such a treasure if she was so easily seduced.

She sniffles softly, slipping gently from Phoebus' loose grip. His heat wafts off his skin like the warmth of a well-tended hearth, it lingers in her bones as she kneels in the grass of this unfamiliar field. It makes the sear of shame dig that much deeper into her heart. Phoebus had listened well to her warnings. He'd carried her someplace far away from flowing water, somewhere distant where her brother's scrying eyes could not reach. The tears welling in her eyes finally fall as she turns this way and that, utterly and completely lost without a source of water to follow. How could she return now? Even she was not bold enough to have the man she planned to reject take her back to her father's house.

Stupid girl. Foolish. How could she have been so short sighted?

"Melia?"

His voice is laden with sleep's husk, his arm makes little grabs at the grass searching for her shape. She swallows her tears and bids her voice to not betray her, "Here I am, my lord. You may go back to sleep."

The mildest furrow of his brow. When he turns his head, his hair flows like rich golden oil over the dark grass, "Come here," his hand keeps searching for hers, patting the ground, dragging long fingers over the dirt and frowning when he does not find her. "It is not yet morning, why have you fled so far from my side?"

Melia cannot help but laugh at his visage, clumsy and squinty-eyed, less the graceful gentleman who promised her a taste of change and more a bumbling kitten desperate for its mother's teat. She wipes her tears as quickly as she can muster, "If you but open your eyes, I'm certain you would find me."

He makes a grumbling noise, some cross between a boar's grunt and the crow's deep bellow, "Is this another of your games? I'm much too tired for games Melia." Finally, his finger grazes the edge of her ankle and like a child, he lights up, eyes still stubbornly closed but smile positively radiant, "Ah, there you are!" Diligently, he traces the shape of her leg with his open palm, measuring the smoothness of her calf, the swell of her knee, the broadness of her thigh, then he lays his head upon her, cheek pressed close to her stomach, heated back like warm coals against her skin. "So cool," he murmurs and kisses her stomach, throws his arm around her waist and nuzzles further into her skin, "Tell me when you've need of the water -" a dreadfully wide yawn interrupts him. "- I'll fetch it for you."

Melia finds herself laughing again, just a tiny thing as she runs her fingers through the thick waves of his hair. What is she to do now?

As for a fic idea I'd like to talk about since I don't know if I'll ever write it: Among the many, many, many things I'd like to write but probably never will, I really wish I could just sit down and write a story about Tenes and Hemithea. There's a lot of reasons why I have no plans to ever properly tackle anything regarding the Iliad - chief of which being that there's just too much information and the amount of research would be insane - but a lot of what I would potentially focus on have to deal with people and places Apollo loves and his inability to protect those things throughout the conflict starting with Tenes. I absolutely adore exploring Apollo's paternity in my writing and considering how fiersome Tenes was and how both he and Troilus would die protecting their sisters, I've just always wanted to dig into an exploration of their lives and connection with their father and how Tenes' death specifically would've affected Apollo. Like yeah, I know Troilus is usually the point of focus for such works especially because of the manner in which he was killed, but Tenes was also beloved! Also considering he was originally punished for being falsely accused of sexually assaulting his stepmother, I can't help but want to write his wrath when he realises what it is Achilles intends to do to Hemithea. Alas though, I don't think I'l ever get to do more than think longingly about it, at least right now lmao.

[avionvadion]

New headcanon: Link eventually ends up having really weak ankles after the amount of times he’s broken them falling through holes and floors, and from jumping off really high ledges.

Because ow. Fall damage.

[universalambients]

Acropolis (1924)

[rainbowplussome]

(and i’m saying this moreso because it’s a pretty common misconception and less because it has to do with )

I was struck with the worst brainrot over this one idea so onto the blog it goes.

(Disclaimer: This is all based off of my interpretation of Greek Mythology and is NOT AT ALL meant to be accurate to the original myths or disrespectful in any way. This is just a thought experiment.)

Anyways I'm going to infodump about Apollo and Metis' nonexistent son

Ok so basically, I think when reading the original greek myths, it would not be too much of a stretch to assume that Apollo is the living incarnation of Metis' unborn son. For those of you who don't know, Metis was Zeus' lover before Hera, and the mother of Athena. When she became pregnant with Athena, a prophecy foretold that her second child, a son, would eventually overthrow Zeus. To prevent this, Zeus ate Metis, and that's why Athena pops out of Zeus' head a couple of years later.

What does this have to do with Apollo? Well, for one thing, Apollo is the only second son Zeus has ever had. We know he was born second since Artemis literally helps Leto give birth to him. He's also considered to be one of the most talented gods on Olympus (this is not just me being biased I swear guys-) He's the god of the most things out of all the Olympians, and was also just a considerably popular deity throughout Greece. It wouldn't be the wildest guess to connect him with the prophecized revolutionary son of Metis.

He also has a lot of connections to Athena. Apollo and Athena are often seen as Zeus' left and right hands, and they're both gods of knowledge. In a few ways, Apollo and Athena seem like two sides of the same coin. Athena is a virgin goddess, while Apollo is known for his lovers. Athena specializes in war and strategy, while Apollo focuses on the arts. Despite this, both of them dabble a bit in the other's domains: Apollo with his archery and Athena with her handicraft. This isn't to prove that Apollo is super close to Athena or anything, he has a lot more connections with Artemis. It just shows that there is something there, if you really squint at it.

I will say that this only works best in certain timelines. Greek mythology doesn't have a specific canon as much as it has multiple different beliefs that coalesce into the basic story we know now. Because of this, we don't really know if Athena came before or after the twins? It's actually really funny because we have these two truths:

In Apollo's birth myth (I tried to find the specific version but I couldn't ;-;) It is said that he declared all versions of prophecy inferior to his own. Athena, who had been divinating with pebbles at the time, was so upset that she cast away her stones. This obviously implies that Athena was alive for a bit before Apollo was born.

On one of the pediments of the Parthenon in Athens, the birth of Athena is depicted. Apollo and Artemis can both be seen in the crowd of gods watching the birth. This obviously implies that Apollo was alive for a bit before Athena was born.

There are historical reasons for this discrepancy, but from a myth stance it's just really funny.

(It also means we don't know who the true Olympian middle child is. It's either Artemis or Apollo, depending on where Athena falls. I guess they can just share lol.)

I bring all this up because if Apollo was born AFTER Athena, things start falling into place. Zeus eats Metis, certain that in doing so he circumvented the prophecy. Athena is "born" and all seems well. But we all know that prophecy is not something that anyone can truly prevent. So, the next time Zeus has children, they're twins, with the second born being a son who will eventually overthrow him. A classic Greek tragedy, honestly.

It's also very interesting because technically, Apollo DID overthrow Zeus. Or at least, he did in a historical sense. Around 275 A.D., The Romans would start celebrating the birth Sol Invictus (The Unconquered Sun). This elevated the god of the sun, who at this point was an Apollo very transformed from his original depiction, above every other god in the Roman pantheon. This continued for a while, and a bit later Constantine I declared Dies Solis (Sunday) to be the day of rest, in dedication to this version of the god of the sun. By the end of the Roman empire, Apollo was definitely more popular than his father.

Btw, if Sunday being the day of rest sounded familiar, that's because this is actually where Christianity starts to co-opt pagan religions a bit, like always. Jesus' birthday actually also comes from this time period, as both Christmas and the birth of Sol Invictus fall on December 25th. So yes, technically, if you really stretch it, Apollo turns into Jesus.

ALL OF THIS is simply to say that Apollo could very much be the foreseen killer of Zeus, and I think that's very girlboss of him.

As a reward for reading this far, have this piece I did of Apollo if he got less time in the sun, was Athena's full brother, and also maybe committed some patricide.

I really need to learn how to do good backgrounds

[floatyflowers]

Fathers Of Olympus[Dark Platonic Greek gods x Reader]

Apollo

You are the first daughter he has with a human so you hold a special place in his heart.

Tries to be the best father for you since day one in your life.

But not in the way you think.

Apollo would murder your mother, and as years go by, he will either curse your suitors until they die or kill them directly.

He even sided with the Trojans just because you fall in love with Achilles.

Apollo isn't only possessive in his romantic life but also in his platonic life.

He would punish you but he will surely destroy anyone who comes near you.

Hermes

He isn't a good father to begin with.

Like he discovered that you were his daughter when he tried to flirt with you, that was until your mother came and he recognized her.

Hermes then tried to fix his mistake, but it's too late as you were creeped out by him.

Not having the patience to deal with your stubborn attitude, he curses you.

And to break the curse you have to obey him and come with him to Olympus.

But when you still refuse, Hermes kidnaps you and locks you up in his temple.

He has decided to rehabilitate you to obey him.

Hades

Hades loves Persephone.

And you are his first child with Persephone, so of course he adores you.

You know that evil personality he is usually shown with? Well, he is actually a big softie towards you.

Hades only shows that evil personality to anyone who he sees as a threat to his family.

He gets jealous when Persephone spends time with you.

However despite Hades spoiling you, he never allows you to leave the underworld even when Persephone goes to visit her mother and wishes to take you with her.

As long as Zeus is alive, Hades is sure you will never be safe.

[amiti-art]

Troilus design! (ft best dad Apollo) He's around 12 years old here.

Researching Troilus' story is not an easy task because unfortunately most of the ancient texts focused on him didn't survive and others only survived in fragments.

This story is brutal even for greek mythology standards so please keep that in mind if you want to continue reading this or do more research on your own.

Something that all of the versions seems to agree on is that he was a Trojan prince, son of queen Hecuba and was killed by Achilles. His father was either Apollo or Priam (Apollo fits more with the context of the story though).

Most of the versions also focus on Troilus' young age and he's often shown to be visibly shorter than Achilles on the vase paintings depicting his death.

The most popular version of the myth (which is also supported by ancient vase paintings) states that Troilus and his sister Polyxena (she's not preset in every version though) went outside of Troy on their horses and while they were at a fountain Achilles ambushed them.

Achilles then chased Troilus who tried to hide inside of Apollo's temple (possibly seeking his father's protection) but Achilles caught up to him and murdered Troilus either inside or in front of the temple and then brutally mutilated his body.

There 2 alternative reasons given for the murder:

1. There was a prophecy which said that if Troilus reached 21 years of age Troy would never fall.

2. Achilles fell in love with Troilus, tried to force himself on him and was enraged when the boy refused his advances. (This version seems to have more surviving evidence)

It could also be that the only reason that Achilles killed Troilus was the fact that he was a Trojan prince and therefore an enemy but this does not seem to fit with the brutality of the act.

Here are some vase paintings that show Troilus' death at the hands of Achilles

[tylermileslockett]

Hey folks, this image of Apollo was done for a private commission. Xoxo

The following text is reposted from my previous Apollo Olympians image.

“Phoebus, of you even the swan sings with clear voice to the beating of his wings, as he alights upon the bank by the eddying river Peneus; and of you the sweet-tongued minstrel, holding his high-pitched lyre, always sings both first and last…And so hail to you, lord! I seek your favor with my song.”  (-Homeric Hymn, translated by H.G. Evelyn white)

APOLLO (uh-PAH-low), God of prophecy, oracles, music, art, protector of and disease of boys and men, and archery. Just as his twin sister Artemis is patron to women and girls, Apollo is both protector, and killer from disease of boys and men. In my Illustration the god holds his bow and arrows behind, while he strums the lyre gifted to him by trickster Hermes. Near the sun flies his ally and divine messenger, a white raven. The column on the right is capped with a cow, representing his sacred animal as a god of herds. The serpent Python sits dead at his feet, killed by Apollo’s arrow so that the god could take over the Delphi temple location. The temple complex sits beneath the god, while on the far right, the Pythia (Apollo’s oracle priestess) sits upon a tripod, breathing the hallucinatory gasses seeping up from the earth to get her prophecies which she bestows upon visitors.

The laurel tree has associations with Apollo because the god, chasing a Naiad (water nymph) named Daphne call out to Gaia (mother earth) for help, who transformed the nymph into a laurel tree, which the god adopted as his sacred tree. In book 1 of the Iliad, Apollo supports the Trojans by raining down a plague on the Greeks, and later helping Paris to kill Achilles. Apollo’s cruelty is shown in Ovid’s mythical lyre contest with the inventor of the flute; a satyr named Marsyas. When Apollo suggested they play their instruments upside down, the satyr lost, and was flayed (skinned) alive as punishment for his hubris. 

[streets-in-paradise]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, YOU ARE AWESOME!!!!

( I can't find much merch where i live, currently awaiting for the mail to bring me an Achilles 3D printed figure. )

THIS, THIS, EXACTLY!!!

" Wooow, you know so much about the Iliad, you must be some classicist or something. "

Me: Thanks, but actually I got an insane attachment to Troy (2004) at a developmental age and that's what led me to endlessly read and overanalize the Iliad. You know the way it happened to some kids with Percy Jackson?

That's the feeling, what got me here is not being normal about that silly movie lol. I point at the scene Brad Pitt fucked up his heel the way average lotr fan points at Viggo's toe in Two Towers. ( I'm also a lotr fan, but you get the use of the example)

The change of the score in the director's cut ruins a few things, but doing that to Hector's Death was criminal.

Last time i rewatched director's cut my sister literally cackled because when Hector goes to fight Achilles the Troy motif is sounding, then abrutly stops once he sees Achilles, giving a very " pov: you are about to die" vibe.

Felt a bit meme-like:

(Angry Achilles seen through the pov of Hector)

*troy music stops*

🤣🤣

A less harmfull change I dislike is the switch of the Sparta party music. I liked Horner 's better and, in fact, now you can't find his version anywhere ( at least in YouTube). For some reason the rest of the Horner score is there, but everytime i try to search the full song of the Sparta scene I only find the other version.

As an adaptation it may have failed in many aspects, but it's my precious trash. Like " excuse me? that's my emotional support universally hated film. "

btw, I don't know if you are into fic, but a few years ago I fully embraced my love for the movie and started writing for it.

the movies mentioned in the Wikipedia article of “movies considered the worst” are far more interesting than the movies in the Wikipedia article “movies considered the best”

[nostalgicacademia]

Hands in art

Psyche in the Temple of Love, by Edward John Poynter,

The Anger of Achilles, by Jacques-Louis David.

Young woman with daisies by Émile Vernon.

[my-name-is-apollo]

I saw a Troilus post and that made me have Feels™ all over again. Something that particularly upsets me is the image of Troilus being dragged by his hair to Apollo's altar:

Like even putting aside the fact that Troilus, apart from being Apollo's son, is also a suppliant to Apollo here and to harm anyone in a god's temple is already an unforgivable violation of the sacredness of the place-

Troilus was a little boy or a youth at the most. His hair was most definitely sacred to him. It would have been cut and dedicated to Apollo, the protector of boys, if he had reached his adulthood. But he got dragged by his hair to his death, as if he was an animal being sacrificed to the god. Achilles didn't simply kill Troilus, he deliberately violated everything Troilus would have held sacred to him - his hair, his body, his god's temple...

Achilles had previously killed Tenes as well, another son of Apollo, despite Thetis very clearly warning him not to do so. So all of this was him knowingly spitting in Apollo's face, if you think about it.

[pain-is-too-tired]

So real though-

Also 100% Lee will take every chance to remind people there's more to Achilles story than Patroclus' death fdhdf

"Oh you two are so in love, like Achilles and Patroclus!"

"If he acts anything like Achilles I'll shoot him in the heel myself."

"Oh."

And yeah. Luke's checking him out most of the time- the fact Lee's mainly in tanks during the summer does not help. It's a miracle that man gets anything done vgdgd

I think if Luke had to actually see Lee in active battle during the Titan War he be too focused on queer panic to focus on the fight dgdfd

He hears about the Apollo cabin having chased off the Drakon and he's in his room or whatever like-

Lee gaining a huge crush on Luke but keeping himself together about it.

Only a few people(mainly his siblings and maybe Connor) really figure it out.

Luke on the other hand doesn't even realize he's been crushing on Lee since they met and he's still a mess. Of course people still don't really realize cause of how Luke usually holds himself, but he's still a mess.

Lee's able to be normal about their relationship and despite his crush doesn't get too flustered around Luke. He enjoys their time together even if he doesn't think Luke likes them back that much.

Luke is usually the one always trying to get where they're doing duties together and always standing next to Lee during meetings. And he's 100% staring at Lee half the time. Especially after Lee gets a sun tattoo on their forearm.

Lee's one of the only ones that could best Luke in a fight during capture the flag. And Luke might be a bit too into getting his ass kicked by Lee.

Luke's love for Lee it's bit more... encompassing? Like everything else in his life he has tunnel vision to it. Especially after he leaves camp and it becomes more obsessive.

Lee's love for Luke is steady, taking things by stride and not letting it take him over. They're calm to it, letting him just enjoy Luke's company casually without his feelings getting in the way. When Luke leaves he's able to stay as put together as possible. Hurt, but not letting it effect his duties and how he views the world. Not to say it doesn't effect him. He spends nights awake, cried plenty of times,gotten angry. But it doesn't take him over, they refuse to drown in it.

Luke continues to try and get Lee back again, especially with the realization of "damn- I like him."

Lee's able to refuse every time. Being open on how hurt he is.

How they love is a by project of their childhood. One hardly getting close to anyone and If he does he's desperate to hold onto them.

The other refusing the let their love be taken for granted. Making it clear that the other will have to work just as hard in the relationship.

[pansen1802]

The mural of Achilles, and the temple of Amun.

Private commissions, please don't use for yourself.

[yandere-wishes]

‧ ₊˚✧ Do Not Weep Hydro Dragon ‧ ₊˚✧

Summary: There's a crack in Neuvillette's heart that bares your name. He sheds a tear for you each day. Yet once you return to Fontaine with your fiance. The cracks and tears begin to grow. 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, stalking, arranged marriages, affairs. 

Author's note: I'm sorry 😭💔😭💔

There've been rumors circling around Fontaine. Ghostly whispers floating between coral-tainted lips and fervid ears. The rumors spoke a bittersweet name. One Neuvillate had long since buried. At first, the notion of your return had felt like a bad dream. like the roar of a tsunami before it crashes on shore. Terrifying yet, ultimately unreal. He'd summed the rumors up to some traveler who bore your mien. To an erroneous article by the steam bird. Anything. anything at all. 

Anything that wasn't you.

It wasn't until after a particularly grueling trial that he'd witnessed the truth behind these rumors. There you were in all you're glory. Gleaming akin to the finest pearls laying dormant in the primordial sea. Your expression, when he could catch it, was gleeful, delighted, A drastic contrast to his last unfortunate memory of you. His eyes follow the delicate movement of your gloved hand as it stifles a cheery giggle pouring from your cherry lips. It's only after noting your delight that he becomes conscious of the gentleman accompanying you. A ginger with bloodthirsty eyes and a soul that reeks of carnage.

A splash of heat rolls down Neuvillet's cheek. Right before a splash of cold splatters across his temples. his attention narrows on the sky, as the

clouds begin to weep. What once was a peaceful sunny day shatters like a wine glass on porcelain tiles. Humidity threads through the air robbing him of his breath. 

It's raining.

How fitting, Neuvillette thinks as he watches you and your companion run to find shelter. 

Neuvillette recalls your smile almost as clearly as he recalls your pulse under his teeth. The taste of your flesh as his teeth left bloody love bites in every wrong place. He remembers saying I love you, albeit there was more to it than that. It had started with I love you and ended with every truth he'd forgotten how to tell. He had shed his human masquerade, in the hope of finding true love. You had screamed that night. You had screamed every night since. 

Neuvillette thumbs through his memories. As the rain outside grows more ferocious. He remembers you standing by the sea, he remembers you telling him the phobias that ran deeper than blood. 

You hadn't been from Fontaine, not originally. A fallen gear from an ancient automaton whose kin resided across the sea.

You'd been raised in the ways of the hydro court. Even if 'raised; was too generous a word. Morphed or sculpted may have been more appropriate synonyms. You grew up clawing at your own skin, trying to find who was underneath the layers of mindless expectations. You'd been raised as a lady and grew into a harrowing beast that feasted on the stars. 

Yet even creatures of unparalleled strength had their weaknesses. Even ever-blessed vision wielders bore a certain Achilles heal. 

Yours so happened to be your incompatibility with your foster nation. Or rather with the water itself. 

When people asked, as some had tended to do. You'd weaved them tales about serrated Pisces and dorsal-finned leviathans with open maws awaiting their prey. You don't tell them about the vastness, the dark blue landscape that feels all too wide and all too endless. You don't tell them about the things you swore you've seen lurking beneath the infinite waters of Fontaine. And you most certainly leave out the parts about the creature who engraved fear upon your bones many moons ago before you even knew how to walk.  

Neuvillette remembers your eagerness to leave. That had, ultimately, been your bonding point. He'd been an outcast. The supreme justice was ever only relevant when he upheld the law. And whilst Supreme Justice Neuvillette was revered and adored by all. Plain Neuvillette was nothing more than a shadow of evaporated water that hunted the streets of Fontaine. You had never wanted to mingle with the people. Keeping everyone at arm's length. Maybe it was fate that had brought two lonely souls together all those moons ago. Maybe it was something else. 

He had loved you. He swears it on the Hydro archon ( or any other Archon who lacks Furina's fickleness) He'd tried to show you that the waters of Fontaine meant you no harm. He'd even shown you his true form, the utmost assurance. Maybe that's why you fled. Maybe that's why you'd left him heartbroken one morning when the sun didn't rise. 

It had rained that day. As well as the following days. Until the surrounding islands ceased to exist. 

You'd left him hollow and alone.

Yet your return made the cracks in his heart fester. 

 Neuvillette had taken it upon himself to cloak you in his watchful gaze.

He'd come to notice how you and that dreadful Fatui Harbinger you'd come to associate yourself with. Rather liked taking long walks

 where the sea kissed the shore. He'd also noticed a ring of Snezhnaya Alexandrite perpetually wrapped around your finger. 

Neuvillette's footsteps are heavy as they collide with the concrete. He's closer today. So close he can practically smell the scent of citrus and eucalyptus. If he reached out with his powers he could surely touch you, feel the warmth of your body bleeding into him, just like old times. He misses you, yet a part of him pities your return. Neuvillette's grey eyes follow your desolate gaze. It rips open one too many wistful wounds. 

"So then Teucer said...Hey darling are you listening?"

Childe's eyes follow your frozen glare, tracing your line of sight straight to the menacing waters that refuse to part from your side. You hear your lover mumble a faint 'right'. Before you feel his silk-clad fingers dance across the back of your neck. Flirting with the chilling fear that rolls off you in waves. You pin your body to him, finding comfort in the familiar scent of his cologne as you bury your head in his neck. 

"I'm truly sorry for this darling" Sincerity rolls off his tongue, percolating into the tender kiss he presses to your temple. "I've just been feeling...down lately. Like this inexhaustible sadness is going to swallow me whole. Fontaine was the only place I could convince the Tsaritsa to transfer me for a short while. I just, I need a break from it all." You answer him in a low melodic hum. You get it, truly you do. Sadness is a poison, acidic in nature. It engulfs one's soul. Melting away their purpose, their resolve. Eating away until it reaches their hearts, their desires. It leaves behind empty shells and broken pieces too fragile to ever fully mend. 

Who better than you to understand the pains of being soulless, bereft? A mere shell awaiting a miracle that had died long ago. 

There's a voice, carved from velvet and silk. It rolls across you like a tidal wave. Potent yet soft. It whispers your name and calls out in hopes of mending broken hearts. You turn to look behind you. All you see is the endless sea. 

It's only on the fourth day of your visit that Neuvillette permits you to see him. Actually, see him. It's no longer his ghost that haunts you nor the empty waves that he commands beckoning you by name. It's him, really him. His glare is relentless as he leaves a prolonged kiss on your knuckles. You're in the middle of a conversation with that dreaded harbinger. Something about his older sister wishing to take to shopping upon your return to Snezhnaya.

"My darling it's been all too long, how fare thee my-"

He's cut short, how rude. Yet far be it from him to expect proper mannerisms from the Fatui.

"Hey, I'm having a conversation with my betrothed. Don't interrupt." Childe's eyes morph into his own glare. One which promises blood and violence. The fates of those caught on the other end of said glare are never pleasant. 

"As the chief justice of Fontaine, I have to right to interrupt any conversation I see fit."

Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. Choke the fear down with a cup of Fonta and ask Neuvillette to join the two of you. It's the nostalgia talking really. Some remnants of the past collide with the present causing your heart to adopt an unsteady rhythm. 

It's after that event that Neuvillet permits his presence to be seen by you and your "lover". He's always a mere breath away, following under the guise of being a gracious "tour guide". But tour guides do not wrap their arms around a lady's waist when her fiance isn't looking. Nor do they sneak kisses behind open parasols. You haven't protested about any of this. Maybe your fear of the hydro dragon has perished, replaced with a yearning for your former lover. He prays to every star in Tyvat for this to be true. 

It's on the day of your departure that you receive the bad news in the form of an army of Gardemeks. Childe is being arrested, something about a serial disappearance case. Something about a trial. It's a ruse you feel it in your bones. Neuvillette personally appears at the docks and holds you in his arms as you weep. He assures you this will all be cleared up soon. That you have nothing to fear. 

But you do, you have all so much to fear. Neuvillette permits you to stay at his house whilst the trial takes place. He traces the shimmering blue of your veins with his lips. He says he loves you, that he refuses to let you slip from between his fingers ever again. He'll keep you here. Keep you safe. Away from the Fatui. 

Away from Ajax. 

How he wishes he could tear the universe apart with his teeth. Part the oceans and bury the two of you under it. He dreams of keeping you by his side away from everyone else. Neuvillette is the chief justice of Fontaine, it's a prestigious role, one that demands trust. Yet maybe, just this once. He'll have to find the accused guilty regardless of the evidence. 

Tag list: @rebeccawinters @fangirl-katwithclaws @starshiningsirius

[gingermintpepper]

In my Zeus bag today so I'm just gonna put it out there that exactly none of the great Ancient Greek warrior-heroes stayed loyal and faithful and completely monogamous and yet none of them have their greatness questioned nor do we question why they had the cultural prominence that they did and still do.

Jason, the brilliant leader of the Argo, got cold feet when it came to Medea - already put off by some of her magic and then exiled from his birthland because of her political ploys, he took Creusa to bed and fully intended on marrying her despite not properly dissolving things with Medea.

Theseus was a fierce warrior and an incredibly talented king but he had a horrible temper and was almost fatally weak to women. This is the man who got imprisoned in the Underworld for trying to get a friend laid, the man who started the whole Attic War because he couldn't keep his legs closed.

And we cannot at all forget Heracles for whom a not inconsiderable amount of his joy in life was loving people then losing the people around him that he loved. Wives, children, serving boys, mentors, Heracles had a list of lovers - male and female - long enough to rival some gods and even after completing his labours and coming down to the end of his life, he did not have one wife but three.

And y'know what, just because he's a cultural darling, I'll put Achilles up here too because that man was a Theseus type where he was fantastic at the thing he was born to do (that is, fight whereas Theseus' was to rule) but that was not enough to eclipse his horrid temper and his weakness to young pretty things. This is the man that killed two of Apollo's sons because they wouldn't let him hit - Tenes because he refused to let Achilles have his sister and Troilus who refused Achilles so vehemently that he ran into Apollo's temple to avoid him and still couldn't escape.

All four of these men are still celebrated as great heroes and men. All four of these men are given the dignity of nuance, of having their flaws treated as just that, flaws which enrich their character and can be used to discuss the wider cultural point of what truly makes a hero heroic. All four of these men still have their legacies respected.

Why can that same mindset not be applied to Zeus? Zeus, who was a warrior-king raised in seclusion apart from his family. Zeus who must have learned to embrace the violence of thunder for every time he cried as a babe, the Corybantes would bang their shields to hide the sound. Zeus learned to be great because being good would not see the universe's affairs in its order.

The wonderful thing about sympathy is that we never run out of it. There's no rule stopping us from being sympathetic to multiple plights at once, there's no law that necessitate things always exist on the good-evil binary. Yes, Zeus sentenced Prometheus to sufferation in Tartarus for what (to us) seems like a cruel reason. Prometheus only wanted to help humans! But when you think about Prometheus' actions from a king's perspective, the narrative is completely different: Prometheus stole divine knowledge and gifted it to humans after Zeus explicitly told him not to. And this was after Prometheus cheated all the gods out of a huge portion of wealth by having humans keep the best part of a sacrifice's meat while the gods must delight themselves with bones, fat and skin. Yes, Zeus gave Persephone away to Hades without consulting Demeter but what king consults a woman who is not his wife about the arrangement of his daughter's marriage to another king? Yes, Zeus breaks the marriage vows he set with Hera despite his love of her but what is the Master of Fate if not its staunchest slave?

The nuance is there. Even in his most bizarre actions, the nuance and logic and reason is there. The Ancient Greeks weren't a daft people, they worshipped Zeus as their primary god for a reason and they did not associate him with half the vices modern audiences take issue with. Zeus was a father, a visitor, a protector, a fair judge of character, a guide for the lost, the arbiter of revenge for those that had been wronged, a pillar of strength for those who needed it and a shield to protect those who made their home among the biting snakes. His children were reflections of him, extensions of his will who acted both as his mercy and as his retribution, his brothers and sisters deferred to him because he was wise as well as powerful. Zeus didn't become king by accident and it is a damn shame he does not get more respect.

[marichild]

satosugu fics i entreat everyone to read

these are just some of the amazing fics I’ve read! I highly recommend every single one to my fellow satosugu lovers. you won’t regret it, I promise.

Carry Me Home by @valleykey [58.4k, completed, T]

The boy shifts on his feet. “The year is two thousand and eighteen? Common Era?” Slowly, smile still plastic on his face, Suguru faces Satoru. This fucking dumbass. “Satoru,” he says, dangerous edge to his voice, “what did you do?” Satoru makes some bastardization of a sound, half between a laugh and a cough.  “...Whoops?”  “I,” Suguru grits, pinching two fingers together, “am this close to mass murder.” He’s joking.  Probably.  ///OR: Shortly before Geto would have massacred a village, he and Gojo are thrust eleven years forward into a would-have-been future that Geto is conspicuously absent from.

愛のある場所; river of light (that brings me to you) by @yuzudetergent [66.8k, completed, T]

A lesson in love is a lesson in swimming. Except for Suguru, it's getting dropped into the deep end with the tide licking at his neck, no kickboard or life preserver keeping him afloat. (Or: This is how Satoru finds the ocean.)

achilles, only the dead stay seventeen forever by getou_suguru (dheiress) [7.9k, ongoing, T]

He looks like a little kid, insouciant and irreverent, smiling at you like that. This is how you want to remember him. “Winter snow melts into Spring, of course!” You open your mouth to laugh and laugh and laugh and— His breath tastes, inexplicably, like spun sugar and honey on your tongue.  (Gojou Satoru is not a God, not yet. But He will be and you think (you know) that you will be  the first to kneel in worship and offer Him your blood, your flesh. Build Him a temple inside the circle of your arms until He sinks inside your ribcage, there to dwell safe and sound and beating just for you.)  ((Pay attention, now. This is a story about how a boy—the Hallowed one, the enlightenment of all, the one who rose high above others, the one and only—fell.))

Always an Angel (Never a God) by 0atmlk [44.6k, ongoing, M]

"The first time I saw the sunset here, I wanted to send you a picture."  Suguru looked at him, surprised. "Why didn't you?"  "Because I knew you’d been here before on your own, it was probably something you'd seen plenty of times." Satoru paused. "But I almost did. Opened it and everything to send to you. Then I saw the date of the last message you sent. We were pushing year three. So I didn't." . . .  Suguru finds Satoru at fifteen. Satoru finds him at twenty-eight.

I’m Sorry: In Various Translations by @koifishscribbles [45.9k, ongoing, M]

The coffee in Satoru’s stomach curdles. He feels the weight of every one if those eight years roll through his entire body like an earthquake. All the missed sleep clings to his eyes, and the unsent texts threaten to erupt from his mouth. Getou Suguru. It is not that his stitches unravel. Those took years to craft, cinched with vitriol, and won’t be undone in a single moment. It’s his very being that unspools onto the dirty linoleum floor. He wants Suguru to pick him up and untangle the length of him. His fingers once again becoming familiar as they expertly craft him into something new, better.  —— Gojo Satoru has not seen his ex, Getou Suguru, since college. Until he shows up one day teaching in the classroom across the hall from him.

an anthology of bad ideas by ilovegetosuguru [9.5k, completed, gen]

Gojo panics and asks a very attractive stranger to be his fake boyfriend for a wedding.  Here’s the problem — there’s no wedding.  (Fake Dating AU)

april pink by @valleykey [3k, completed, gen]

“Dude,” Satoru says, first thing off the train, glasses sliding down, wide eyes peering over the rim, “you have, like, flowers. In your lungs.” “Oh really,” Suguru says, dry, “I hadn't noticed.”

Puppet On A String by @killjoyproductions [6.8k, completed, E]

“Huh,” he muses. “Are you… saving yourself for marriage?”  “Nope.”  “Are you asexual?”  Satoru shakes his head. “I’m not asexual, just a virgin.”

Autonomic Breath by finalproject [10.9k, completed, E]

She turns to Satoru and asks, "When did you know?"

Lies That Bind by Anonymous [48.1k, ongoing, E]

“Really now,” Gakuganji snorted, doubtful. “How convenient. Who is this alpha, then?” And of course, Satoru had seen that question coming as soon as his claim of having a mate was halfway out of his mouth, but by that point he was already talking and it was too late to stop. “So nosy.” He wagged his finger in a tut-tut motion in the geezer’s face, watching him turn a horrible shade of angry red. “It’s Geto Suguru, of course.” Satoru's sick and tired of all the higher-ups insisting he needs to find an alpha and settle down just because he's an omega, and the simple lie that Suguru is his mate seems like the easiest way to get some peace and quiet. What could go wrong?

like the tides, never standing still. by antepuer [1.1k, completed, T]

“I fucking hate it sometimes.” Suguru taps the ash off and looks at him. Puppy-dog eyes, has no idea what Satoru refers to, but it would be far from the first time. “What do you mean?” “Being queer.” He finally admits. “It fucking sucks.”

once we have sufficiently tortured one another by irrevenance [4.6k, completed, E]

Suguru’s throat goes dry. “You’re no longer a sorcerer,” he realizes, a hysterical laugh bubbling in his throat in response to the sick joke that has laid itself before him. “And you came to me?” “Yes,” Satoru says pleasantly. “What will you do about it,” and here he lowers both his eyelashes and his tone, a mockery of seduction, “Getou-sama?”

the dream house by irrevenance [6.1k, completed, E]

Suguru adopts two little girls, marries Satoru, and becomes a teacher. It’s not enough.

where shall we go tomorrow? by elivellichor [15k, ongoing, T]

“Who the hell are you, and what the fuck do you want from me?” a raspy voice hisses, breath on the shell of his ear, knocking Suguru out of his daze. Suguru tilts his chin up to better meet his pursuit face to face and goes breathless. Enraged and fiery cerulean eyes stare down at him with a twisted expression. This child is undeniably Gojo Satoru. He can’t imagine any other with a disposition so fiery and confrontational.  Or: an indulgent age-regression fic featuring One (1) Baby Gojo Satoru and One (1) Very Tired Geto Suguru feat. healing <3

Caesura by @cielelyse [85.5k, completed, M]

The first time they meet, Suguru and Satoru do not like each other. Arrogant, cocky, insufferable, they think. Despite the smirks Shoko gives Suguru, or the sighs Yaga gives Satoru, they do not like each other. Until a mission changes that.

it's not gay unless the domains touch by @hollow-lime-green [40.2k, completed, E]

Funny thing is, when you put up walls made of infinity, you don’t expect people to start slipping in. And you certainly don’t expect to start wanting them to. Gojo Satoru never had a chance to get used to people touching him. Suguru gets that, and he’s happy to help. That’s what good friends do, right? Alternatively: Geto Suguru is the most oblivious man alive.

two sorcerers chillin' in a hot tub (five feet apart cause they’re not gay) by @hollow-lime-green

Geto Suguru has almost two decades of practice pretending not to see things that are clearly there, and Gojo Satoru has a well-documented history of being the most socially-stunted motherfucker alive. That’s how they got here. That’s also why neither of them know where the hell they’re going with this.

BONUS! Baby Mine by @seaemberthesecond

There was something just slightly off in every interaction between Gojo-sensei and Fushiguro and once Yuji’d begun to notice it, he couldn’t unsee it. It wasn’t a bad kind of off – at least he didn’t think so – but it was just different from the way either of them acted around everyone else. * Or, Yuji's journey to discovering that Megumi is Gojo's baby boy, featuring: an insane amount of simping, the mundane indignities of being a parent, and a lot of Yuji snooping in places he really shouldn't be.

(aka, that fic I go back to all the time. gojo being megumi’s dad will never not be one of my favorite things ever.) (clearly)