#ancient greek religion and lore

[cerseimikaelson]

The Way to the Heart (Isn't Through the Stomach, Shut Up) - Chapter 6/7

Everyone in Mythos Incorporated knows Hera Juno and Zeus Jupiter absolutely can't stand each other. Strong-willed, argumentative and not used to being challenged, sparks fly whenever the Head of HR and the Senior Executive cross paths (and not how Taylor Swift meant it, no matter what the office betting pool would have you believe). When Hera receives an anonymous delivery of her favorite dessert just two days before Christmas, she dismisses the idea of a secret admirer. After all, such things only happen in movies, and workplace romances in real life are a recipe for disaster. But when the mysterious deliveries continue year after year and her benefactor refuses to reveal themselves, Hera has to face facts: someone in the office is behind this. And she's determined to find out who. The third Modern Myths Saga installment, featuring Zeus and Hera as office rivals, with a dash of sugar and cream.

You can read Chapter Six "The Nutcracker One" HERE

[cerseimikaelson]

I am obsessed with this, here are some of mine:

Hestia expresses her care through food. Whether it's shrimp or cake or roast, she will take one look at the baby gods who are sullen or sad and FEED THEM. She cooks manually, because "food doesn't taste the same when created by magic" which Zeus and Poseidon can't even pretend to understand even as Hera, Demeter and Hades nod in agreement. She is a genius cook though, so they just gorge themselves and let her do her thing.

Poseidon is a stress smoker and sometimes only comes up on land to share a cigarette with his siblings (he knows where Demeter keeps hers and it irritates her to no end when he steals them, but she keeps extra for him every time anyway)

The first one about the information fits sooo well with my WVCS headcanon that Hera did intelligence and recon during the Second Titan War, so I'll leave it at that. Her compartmentalization skills are insane, but also wildly unhealthy.

Hades, despite what people think of him, has high emotional intelligence, which makes his job unbearable sometimes because he is the king, he is death and he isn't supposed to be approachable or understanding, but he is, and he buries it so deep until Persephone or his siblings coax it out of him.

a collection of headcanons abt the big six because i'm emotional and in need of an outlet:

if you need information about anything, hades n hera are your best bet. she is exceptionally talented at manipulating (terrifying) information out of anyone, and hades is incredibly sneaky / observant. you need it, they're on it. (thinks abt a spy / superhero / heist au...)

the way the other five have all called hestia mom at one point or another... sometimes on purpose (zeus), sometimes by accident (hera)

poseidon is exceptionally loyal to those he cares about most, so the fact that he turned on zeus says a lot about how much he had lost faith in his brother. modern zeus and poseidon have reconciled though, and i think that's a testament to how much zeus has changed. poseidon would genuinely ride or die for his family and it shows in everything he does for them or with them -- and that includes zeus again ;-;

similarily, demeter loves so fully, but her trust has been shattered too many times, and for a long, long while she struggled to connect with her family. regardless, she is fiercely protective of them, even if at times its a little begrudging. like she'll save their ass from danger but she's going to make fun of them the whole time

genuinely don't get the idea that just because they insult each other ruthlessly that anyone else is allowed to do the same. like yeah, poseidon is allowed to call zeus a paranoid asshole but if anyone else does he gets weirdly defensive? like no, that's his paranoid asshole not yours. and hera will cut anyone who even looks at hades a little too long or makes a snide comment about hestia's behaviour, even if thirty seconds ago she was tearing hades apart and telling hestia to get it together-

genuinely can't beat hestia at mario kart, i don't make the rules... mario party though? that's demeter's game. it infuriates poseidon to no end

they all know that they have their specialties. like, if you want gentle love and correction for your dumb decisions you go to hestia but if you need someone to get results, you go to hera. if you need someone to get results but its messy, you go to poseidon. if you need advice you go to zeus or hades or dem but that is totally dependent on what KIND of advice you want and how productive you want to feel

i just think that baby brother zeus is something they refuse to let go no matter how kingly and regal he acts. sometimes demeter pinches his cheeks but she's the only one who could survive that

thinks abt weird godly powers n joint nightmares...

[jewishdainix]

They love me for my never crosstagging fanfiction on ao3

[tracey-cauchemar]

Do you think the Lackadaisy characters’ names provides insight into their roles at all

Cus like. Atlas is such an interesting name choice

Atlas who held all the heavens on his shoulders? Atlas the titan? Atlas, like a collection of maps, without which one could be lost?

Tell me that’s not cool symbolism for Atlas May

(And I feel like someone a little more familiar with the myths and who’s a little better at literary analysis could make an interesting analysis with like. The Hesperides and Hercules stealing the apples and Atlas’s role in that but anyway)

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Additional Tags: Sirens, Sirens eating people, Goddess Eos Summary:

A short story based on the prompt: a cursed colony

A cursed siren finds herself talking to a rather foolish sailor; a sailor that who has curiosity greater than his own self-preservation instinct.

[excelsiorfics]

Icarus

Date: May 3 2023 Author: adelesbian Rating: General Word Count/Status: 8,316, complete Dynamic: Johnny Storm/Wyatt Wingfoot Characters: Johnny Storm, Wyatt Wingfoot, Reed Richards, Wynona Wingfoot, Rain Falling West Tags: Alternate Universe, Angel Wings, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Mutual Pining, Powers

Summary: Johnny drew closer and his hands felt like fire against Wyatt. He felt like he was falling like he was Icarus and Johnny was the sun. Johnny’s fingers weaved their way into his feathers. Maybe Johnny’s hands would burn away the wax and his wings would be gone when he pulled his hands away.

[summerontatooine]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: Immortals After Dark - Kresley Cole Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Original Character/Original Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, OC/OC Characters: Lachlain MacRieve, Bowen Macrieve, The Lykae, Nix the Ever-Knowing, Rodrigo Gamboa, Other Loreans will appear later Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Smut, Content Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, They're In Love Your Honor, Inaccurate Ancient Celtic Religions & Lore, References to Ancient Celtic Religions & Lore, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Summary:

Ewan Grant has been a spy for the Lykae Council of Elders for what feels like ages. With the Accession approaching, important puzzle pieces for each faction are falling into place. He has been given the task to find and convince the members of a predominately female Lykae group called the Camann Gealach to join their ranks. His biggest obstacle will be finding the elusive group. But what if fate stepped in?

Read on as Ewan begins his own journey of healing while he attempts to fulfill his assignment. His greatest obstacle will be convincing an intimidating high priestess that an alliance between the Camann Gealach and the Lykae is worth the risk. How will his task fair when he realizes just how important the priestess is to the group- and to himself?

[ao3org]

Updates to AO3 "Mythology" Fandoms

Hi AO3 users! You may have noticed that recently, fandoms previously canonized as "Mythology" are being updated to "Religion & Lore". This renaming project is part of a wider ongoing process on AO3 about respectful treatment and naming of various religions, spiritual beliefs, faiths, and collections of folklores belonging to a particular religious or cultural tradition. This includes both major and minor religions, as well as reconstructionist, ancient, and modern religions.

In the coming months, the term "Mythology" is being phased out of canonical fandom names. This is because of its potential for use as a disparaging term, and the way in which it is used primarily for religions which are already under-represented. Since "mythology" has connotations of being fictional or inferior to the religious beliefs of the speaker or writer, and is unfortunately used in this way by some, the decision has been made to replace this term with something that the Wrangling Committee believes is more inclusive and less derogatory.

After extensive discussion between individuals from varying religious backgrounds and beliefs, including wranglers representing the various fandoms which were being covered, it was felt that "Religion & Lore" was an appropriate and neutral way to describe the bodies of faith, belief, knowledge, and tradition associated with many of these religions which were ancestrally imparted and regional in nature. It is also hoped that this will decrease ambiguous or confused use, allowing people to more accurately describe their works and find works in which they are interested moving forward.

The use of "Ancient" in many of these fandoms' names reflects that these countries still exist but now have different predominant religions or spiritual beliefs. For example, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore (as Greece is now a predominantly Christian country) or Ancient Egyptian Religion (as Egypt is now a predominantly Muslim country). Because "Norse" does not refer to an extant country, region, or culture, it is not necessary to specify that it is historical or ancient in nature.

The names of these fandoms will also have the native language piped, if the English-language demonym is significantly different from the native-language demonym or if there is a culturally specific term based on consultation with individuals who speak these languages as a first language. We hope to give representation to the language of the source culture by doing so.

Each of these changes has been and will continue to be carefully researched and discussed with traditional knowledge keepers and researchers from the cultures represented in the fandoms under discussion.

Many religions face the issue of texts being written long after their events occurred. Unfortunately this is something which is shared across many religious fandoms; AO3 seeks to treat these religious fandoms equally. Care has been taken in researching characters relating to these fandoms, and character tags will be canonized or made a synonym on a case-by-case basis. Fandom tags that are currently synned to the Ancient religious fandoms have been checked as thoroughly as possible to ensure that they are not referring to modern folk tales, and where possible such relatively modern folk tales are canonized as their own fandoms.

(From time to time, ao3org posts announcements of recent or upcoming wrangling changes on behalf of the Tag Wrangling Committee.)

[anniflamma]

I had to look it up... I went to AO3 to see what kind of fics you guys have been writing lately. Last time I checked for Odysseus/Poseidon, there were only like five fics, and three of them weren't in English. That was just in the 'Ancient Greek Religion & Lore' fandom. If I remember right, it was completely empty in the Epic The Musical. I don't know if there were any Odysseus/Zeus fics last time I checked at AO3, but I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't that many.

Now... there are 21 fics of Odysseus/Poseidon!! And 10 of them are explicit?!! And 10 fics of Odysseus/Zeus?!! What is going on?!!

...

AND ONE ZEUS/ODYSSEUS/POSEIDON?!!

...Wait.

...........

I also found this other fic too! The rating is Mature but is pretty fun read. XD

If you want me to make some ship art, you're gonna have to bribe me for that! Though, I'm currently working on another sandwich, so I need to finish that one first.

Hehe... I love you guys! 💙

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

EDIT: PART 2 HERE

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts. 

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle... 

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”  

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 

Why would you say that? 

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts. 

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.” 

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 

He wants you to guide him to his father. 

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely. 

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

[cerseimikaelson]

You're my only wish this year - Chapter 5/6

"I am not seeing anyone." he said slowly, wondering where the hell that had come from. "Not anymore you aren't." Mrs Peabody literally clapped. "It was just my luck I saw you two as I was watering my plants on the balcony." She put a wrinkled hand on his shoulder, touch light as a mouse. "Congratulations, dear. Marriage is a wonderful thing." Remember when Ares thought he was aware of how this looked? Turns out he wasn't. He really, really, really wasn't. With a couple hundred synapses snapping simultaneously, his jaw dropped open in blank horror as he tried to come up with something, anything, to dig himself out of this hole. He was seen carrying a woman in a wedding dress over his threshold. He was seen carrying a woman in a wedding dress over his threshold and didn't realize his neighbors were watching. Of course his neighbors thought he had gotten married. The second Modern Myths installment featuring Aphrodite as a Runaway Bride that accidentally gets invited to Ares' family Christmas.

You can read Chapter 5 "Blame it on the Mistletoe" HERE

[eintausendschoen]

"The man, the sea, his queen, and the sea herself by the light of a single oillight."

— for @ruthlessness69, because you make me want to make spleepy Poseidon cry of happiness. (scene not in the fic, (yet, (but what do I know)))

This is the long, long, long, long overdue fic rec for "The man and the sea" over on AO3. Of course, with art. Let me just say, if you need a soft(er) Poseidon with a heart full of pining for a certain king, a lot of romcom-ish meddling, and two badass queens, look no further... you'll, laugh, you'll sigh, you'll most definitely cry!

The Man and The Sea by ruthlessness Rating: Mature Relationships: Odysseus/Poseidon (EPIC: The Musical), Amphitrite & Poseidon (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Odysseus/Penelope (EPIC: The Musical) Summary: The sea is different everyday, but it always remains to be the sea. At times the water is sparkly and shiny, going from light turquoise to deep ocean blue, sometimes nearly black, and at times it's muddy and brown because of the dirt and mud being raised up from the bottom. The sea never hides it's secrets, they are just lurking down below. They are always ready to come up to the surface and be a shocking surprise to anybody. The sea was hiding lots of skeletons of the past and also lots of treasures. And it was completely ruthless.

✨I remember seeing your header for the first chapter just after Vengeance Saga aired, and beneath it you mentioned wanting to post on AO3 but lacking an account. To this day I am happy you didn't delete my slightly creepy message (I thought it was a bit creepy, we didn't know each other), and over time made me laugh and sob so hard with this fic and all your wonderful art for the pairing. I just want to give a little something back as a new years gift, bc your story and art make me feel like Poseidon here. Hope your character designs are recognizable enough (Amphi does her own thing, though), playing with your colorsets for the characters was real fun.

🍑 Okay, hear me out, this time there is a reason for the lack of draperies, really! No... stop it right there, just because I don't draw clothes doesn't mean I can't draw clothes...! 😭😭

[estcaligo]

Nobody: Me at 3 AM: Glorious Masquerade represents the confrontation between polytheistic and monotheistic worldviews

Or "The Big Three of Olympus vs One Christian God" in the Glorious Masquerade event

Content Warning: Greek Mythology, religion, Christianity, Glorious Masquerade event spoilers

Note: I talk about things in this post from a researcher's point of view, in a descriptive and comparative manner mostly. Just some observations.

I've already discussed a similar concept before - Idia, Jade, and Sebek representing Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus, the "Big Three" in Greek mythology, the most powerful and important gods of Olympus - during the Harveston event. See the post here.

However, in the Glorious Masquerade, the situation becomes even more peculiar because the SSR characters are dorm leaders - those who are in charge. And then there's Rollo, who is twisted from Frollo.

Note: I will consider all sources of inspiration for Rollo, including the book and the musical, which were confirmed by Yana herself to be inspirations for Rollo.

What? Why? Who?

3 vs 1. The Big Three of Greek Pantheon vs The One God, who embodies 3 in 1 - the Father, the Son and the Spirit.

The Big Three are the three most powerful gods among the Olympians - Zeus, Poseidon and Hades.

Zeus commands the sky, lightning, kingship and summon any weather conditions.

Poseidon manipulates water, storms and earthquakes.

Hades has dominion over the dead and undead, darkness, earth-related disasters, and metals and jewels.

*By the way, lightning was considered just Zeus throwing a temper tantrum, and what happened when Malleus got angry? Right, he started throwing  lightnings left and right.

And now we have Rollo. Twisted from Frollo, who, as we know was a religious man (especially in the book where he is a priest, not a minister).

And despite there being other characters, such as vice-president and the assistant, they aren't "real" or “important” characters like Rollo.

So we can say there is only one (1) main character in this event.

2. 7 Dorm Leaders vs 1 Head of the Council

As is well known, Ancient Greek mythology features many major gods, each controlling different aspects of life (or representing them, or serving as patrons). This makes Ancient Greek religion a polytheistic system - meaning it has multiple gods - akin to the Great Seven and the dorm system at NRC.

The Dorm Leader Council functions much like a small pantheon. Not to mention NRC is located on upper hills, which resembles a mountain (Olympus) if we look at the landscape of the Sage Island.

On the other hand, Christianity only has one God, making it monotheistic religion. There are multiple saints in Christianity, who are patrons of different aspects of life, however it is important to note that these saints do not control - they are more like the intercessors between man and God.

Even the NBC itself is focused on one Villain and has one statue in the yard, not the 7 (the "pantheon" of NRC). And NBC itself doesn't have Dorm system like NRC.

3. Oral vs Written

Greek religious tradition is primarily oral, with legends and stories passed down through generations by word of mouth.

In contrast, Christianity is predominantly a written religion, where the written canon holds great importance.

How is it important here?

Well, in this event specifically the NRC guys spend their time walking around and commenting on things. We learn some of their lore and thoughts on various topics through dialogue. Even Professor Trein reveals his past verbally telling about it. Naturally, it’s a game mechanism. But since we’re talking about such details….

On the other hand, the most important part of Rollo lore is found by the Big Three in written form - Rollo’s diary.  It's also noted how Rollo prefers writing above all else. He writes in his diary, sends letters, and drafts invitations. While this may not apply to the NBC in general, since we're focusing on Rollo, this detail is worth considering as well.

4. Our guys vs That One

Another difference between the two religions is that the Greek gods had flaws that made them more similar to humans. They had tempers and they often held grudges. This made the followers of the religion not want to be like them but, instead learn from them and their shortcomings, frequently through fear. 

In contrast to the flawed gods of Greek mythology, Jesus is portrayed as a man who is to be aspired to, more so than the Greek portrayal of a god; who the audience learns from (imitating in a way), rather than obeys.

Our NRC boys are someone we know and who we’re familiar with. We know their struggles and fears, their dark past. Even the guys in charge of each dorm - the Dorm Leaders - are not so distant from the regular students. Well, more of less.

Whereas Rollo is described by all the characters we’ve met at NBC (and even from his vignette) as someone who is amazing, excellent, wonderful and so…exemplementry. Rollo, at the same time, distances himself from everyone.

5. Vertical vs Horizontal

A small but interesting observation is that many monotheistic religions, including Christianity, often have a “vertical mindset” - symbolizing a relationship between the human and God.

In Christian cosmology, we often imagine a vertical world structure: Hell at the bottom, the human realm in the middle, and Heaven above.

In this event, we also experience vertical movement when things get serious. Initially, when it's peaceful and fun, we mostly walk around the town (mostly horizontal, not including the lower parts).

However, when the action begins, Rollo first sends us downward into the sewers. From there, we start moving upward. The ascent of the tower is highly symbolic, as we are literally ascending towards the sky where Rollo awaits us (with his “judgment”)

 6. Masks

The whole masquerade theme is, of course, a nod to the cartoon and part of the game feature to get the characters to dress up.

But let’s remember that in Ancient Greece, masks played a significant role in theater, particularly in tragedies and comedies (twst features elements of both). In general, it is known that masks represent hidden nature, transformation, and more. 

Interestingly, only our NRC squad wears masks and costumes. We even encountered some Royal Sword Academy students, but they were not given costumes (again, a game feature, but still noteworthy).

On the other hand, there's Rollo, who isn't wearing a mask or even a costume. He doesn’t need to. He is who he is, with no need to transform into something else, as he represents the One, in our comparison here. 

What's even more interesting is that, despite not wearing a physical mask, Rollo is the one with ulterior motives in this event, and we only learn his true face later on. He metaphorically takes the mask off, even though he never wore one in the literal sense.

7. Catholic Guilt

The last but not least - Rollo's punishment, which, perhaps is the most fitting and cruel outcome for him. Rollo, after being defeated, expects harsh punishment because he is ruthless with himself and assumes others will treat him the same way. He failed and he expects to be punished. However our Big Three surprise him by concealing the truth and allowing others (the NBC mobs were the first to thank him for his bravery at the tower) to believe that Rollo was a hero. This situation forces Rollo into a state of internal torment, where he must live with the guilt of his actions while being praised for something he didn't truly do.

Rollo's punishment is psychological, forcing him to confront his guilt and shame in isolation. They choose leave him one on one with his Sin.

On the contrast, in Ancient Greek mythology punishments were often cruel and involved physical pain. One of the most popular example would be of course the myth about Prometheus, which, by the way involved Zeus.

And the way Big Three dealt with Rollo was truly cruel in its own way.

(from an interesting article about Greek Gods and punishment - here)

Fin

I left out some obvious notes like Malleus having horns, Rollo hating on magic etc.

Naturally, there may be other details I haven’t mentioned, so feel free to add any additional insights!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Mystical Items & Objects

Examples in Mythology and Literature

Pandora's Box

The god Prometheus stole fire from heaven to give to the human race, which originally consisted only of men

To punish humanity, the other gods created the first woman, the beautiful Pandora

As a gift, Zeus gave her a box, which she was told never to open

However, as soon as he was out of sight she took off the lid, and out swarmed all the troubles of the world, never to be recaptured

Only Hope was left in the box, stuck under the lid

Anything that looks ordinary but may produce unpredictable harmful results can thus be called a Pandora's box

Hermes' Winged Sandals

Also called the Talaria of Mercury

Are winged sandals, a symbol of the Greek messenger god Hermes (Mercury)

They were said to be made by the god Hephaestus of imperishable gold and they flew the god as swift as any bird

Cintamani Stone

Also referred to as the Chintamani

A wish-fulfilling stone that features across both Hindu and Buddhist religions

The stone features as one of many Mani Jewel (i.e., several gems that are mentioned prominently in Buddhist literature) images that can be found in the scripture of Buddhism

In Hinduism, the stone is connected to the gods Ganesha and Vishnu

Usually, it is depicted as a jewel in Vishnu’s possession known as the Kaustubha

The Kaustubha acts as a sign of divine authority

Arcane Artifacts & Objects

Offer a gateway between time past and time present, bringing layers of ancient history and new-world intrigue to a narrative

Such items are typically represented in fiction as works of long-lost knowledge, primordial features or landmarks, and curious objects of mysterious origin

Often lying dormant until the pivotal moment of discovery, these items invite characters and readers alike into a dance with the unknown

Examples: Necronomicon, Genie's Bottle

Necronomicon

Also referred to as the Book of the Dead

It appears in stories by H.P. Lovecraft

A dark grimoire (i.e., a magician's manual for invoking demons and the spirits of the dead) of forbidden knowledge

Used to open gateways of unearthly powers and cosmic horrors

Genie's Bottle

The classic magical item from mythology, also featured in Aladdin

A vessel of wish fulfillment that often leads to dramatic and unexpected consequences

Doorways & Portals

Doorways in fiction serve as gateways between worlds, dimensions, or states of reality, providing characters with universe-hopping capabilities and genre-defying journeys

These portals, whether physical structures or fantastical mechanisms, open up limitless storytelling possibilities, allowing for sudden shifts in setting and introducing elements of surprise and surrealism

Examples:

C.S. Lewis' wardrobe in The Chronicles of Narnia serves as a secret portal to a fantasy world, bridging the mundane with the fantastical

The eponymous board game in Jumanji transports its players into a wild and perilous jungle adventure, wrenching them from the safety of their living room

Jewelry, Gems, and Garments

Along with other various accessories, these serve several narrative functions, from symbolizing power and status to bestowing unique abilities upon their wearers

These items can act as plot catalysts (i.e. MacGuffins), embody character traits, or hold deep cultural or magical significance within a story’s world

Example: The Amulet of Mara in Skyrim not only reduces the cost of Restoration spells but also unlocks marriage options for the player, integrating gameplay with the narrative

Legendary Objects of Power

Carry with them stories of grandeur and lore, passed down through generations and intertwined with the fates of those who wield them

These are the objects that make or break worlds, bestow immense strength, and are frequently considered among the most powerful items in fiction

Example: Though it's never actually been seen, the Kusanagi Sword from Japanese folklore is a fabled sword that represents valor, said to be endowed with divine powers

Machinery and Technologies

Stretch the boundaries of physics and logic to offer a glimpse into what could be possible in alternate or future universes

These innovations, whether grounded in current science or verging on the fantastical, propel narratives forward and deepen the complexity of the story’s world

Writers can leverage these technological wonders to enhance their storytelling, using them to explore themes of power, ethics, and the human relationship with technology

Example: The body shields in Dune generate a protective forcefield around the wearer—advanced technology that current militaries can only dream of

Mundane Everyday Items

Possess extraordinary storytelling potential to transform the unassuming into the unforgettable

Seemingly ordinary, these objects can surprise both characters and readers, unveiling hidden depths and abilities when least expected

These seemingly mundane objects could fall into unsuspecting hands and create chaos or catalyze a hero’s journey

Additionally, they might only reveal their true nature to those worthy or capable of wielding their power, which can set the stage for narratives that are centered around discovery and mastery

Example: Oscar Wilde’s Portrait of Dorian Grey presents art as a vessel for dark magic, encapsulating the protagonist’s sins while he remains untouched by time

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[samwisethewitch]

What Non-Pagans Need to Know About Fiction Featuring Pagan Gods

In light of Marvel's Loki show dropping a second season and a new Percy Jackson series on the horizon, I want to say some things about how fandom spaces can be respectful of real-life pagan religion.

Let's get one thing out of the way: literally no one is saying you can't enjoy fiction that uses pagan gods and heroes as characters. No one is saying, "Stop writing stories about our gods." In fact, many ancient cultures wrote fiction about their gods -- look at Greek theater or the Norse Eddas. The act of writing fiction about the gods is not offensive in itself.

But please remember that this is someone's religion.

The gods are not "just archetypes." Their myths are not "just stories." Their personalities are not a matter of artistic interpretation. For many pagans, the gods are very much real in a literal sense. I don't think Thor is a metaphor or a symbol -- for me, Thor is a real, autonomous spiritual being who exists outside of human perceptions of him, and who I have chosen to build a relationship with. Even if you are a hardcore atheist, I would hope you could at least be respectful of the fact that, to many modern pagans, the gods are both very real and very important.

When authors are not respectful of this fact, they reduce the gods, these very real objects of worship, to fictional characters. And here's the thing about fictional characters: they are fundamentally tools for authors to use to draw a desired emotional response from an audience.

Dracula's personality and behavior is wildly different depending on who is writing him, because different authors use Dracula to create different reactions in their audiences. In the 1931 film starring Bela Lugosi, he's equal parts alluring and disturbing, a symbol of America's mixed desire and disdain for foreigners. In Nosferatu, he's more strictly frightening and disgusting. In Francis Ford Coppola's movie, he's a tragic, romantic figure clinging to the last scraps of his humanity. In Netflix's Castlevania, he's an incredibly powerful being who has grown bitter and apathetic in his immortality. All of this is Dracula, and all of it is fine, because Dracula is not and never has been a central figure in anyone's religion.

Let's take a look at what happens when authors give this same treatment to real gods:

In Hellenic polytheism, Apollo is one of the most beloved gods, both historically and today. Apollo loves humanity, and humanity loves him back. He is the god of sunlight and of medicine, but also of poetry and song. He is one of humanity's most consistent defenders when one of the other gods gets wrathful. And while he does have dangerous or wrathful aspects of his own (he's also the god of disease, after all), he's also kind and soft with humanity in a way other gods often aren't, at least in some historic sources.

In the Lore Olympus comic series, Apollo is a villain. He's characterized as an abuser, a manipulator, and a violent man child. LO!Apollo is downright hateful, because the author wants us to hate him. Lore Olympus is a retelling of a myth about an abduction and forced marriage. Lore Olympus is also a romance. In order to get the audience to sympathize with Hades and root for his relationship with Persephone, Rachel Smythe needed to make someone else the villain. Apollo is the most obvious and extreme character assassination in Smythe's work, but several other gods (notably Demeter) also get the asshole makeover to tell the story Smythe wants to tell.

Here's where this becomes a problem: Hellenic polytheism is a fairly small religious community, while Lore Olympus is a massively popular webtoon with 1.3 billion views as of August 2023, print books available from major retailers, a TV adaptation in the works, and a very active online fandom. Rachel Smythe currently has a MUCH bigger platform than any Hellenic polytheism practitioner. Smythe and other authors are shaping how modern culture views the Hellenic gods, and that has a very real impact on their worshipers.

This means "Apollo is an abusive asshole" is becoming a popular take online, and is even creeping into pagan communities. I've personally seen people be harassed for worshiping Apollo because of it. I've seen new pagans and pagan-curious folks who totally misunderstand the roles Apollo, Hades, and Persephone play in the Hellenic pantheon because of Lore Olympus and other modern works of fiction.

There are tons of other examples of this in modern pop culture, but I'll just rattle off a few of the ones that annoy me most: Rick Riordan depicting Ares/Mars as a brutish asshole hyped up on toxic masculinity; Rick Riordan depicting Athena as a mother goddess; Marvel depicting Thor as a dumb jock; Marvel depicting Odin as a cold, uncaring father; DC depicting Ares as purely evil; whatever the fuck the Vikings TV show was trying to do with seidr; the list goes on.

All of these are examples of religious appropriation. Religious appropriation is when sacred symbols are taken out of their original religious context by outsiders, so that the original meaning is lost or changed. It requires a power imbalance -- the person taking the symbols is usually part of a dominant religious culture. In many cases, the person doing the appropriation has a much bigger platform than anyone who has the knowledge to correct them.

When Rick Rioridan or Rachel Smythe totally mischaracterizes a Greek god to tell a story, and then actual Hellenic pagans get harassed for worshiping that god, that's religious appropriation.

Religious appropriation is a real issue. This isn't just pagans being sensitive. To use an extreme example: Richard Wagner and other German Romantic authors in the 19th century used the Norse gods and other Germanic deities as symbols in their work, which was a major influence on Nazi philosophy. Without Wagner, the Nazis would not have latched onto the Norse gods as symbols of their white supremacist agenda. To this day, there are white supremacist groups who claim to worship our gods or who use our religious imagery in their hate movement. We are still reckoning with the misinterpretation of our gods popularized by Wagner and other German Romantics almost 200 years ago.

Again, no one is saying you can't enjoy fiction based on pagan mythology. But there are a few things you can do to help prevent religious appropriation in fandom spaces:

Above all else, be mindful that while this may just be a story to you, it is someone's religion.

Recognize that enjoying fiction based on our gods does not mean you know our gods. You know fictional characters with the same names as our gods, who may or may not be accurate to real-life worship.

Do not argue with or try to correct pagans when we talk about our experience of our gods.

Don't invalidate or belittle pagan worship. Again, this mostly comes down to recognizing that our religion is totally separate from your fandom. We aren't LARPing or playing pretend. Our sacred traditions are real and valid.

If you see other people in your fandom engaging in religious appropriation, point out what they are doing and why it isn't okay.

Please tag your fandom content appropriately on social media. Always tag the show, movie, book, etc. that a post is about in addition to other relevant tags. This allows pagans to block these fandom tags if we don't want to see them and prevents fandom content showing up in religious tags.

For example, if I'm posting about Athena from the Percy Jackson books, I would tag the post #athena #athenapjo #percyjackson #pjo. You get the idea.

And if fiction sparks your interest and you want to learn more about the actual worship of the gods, you can always ask! Most pagans love talking about our gods and trading book recs.

If you are writing fiction based on real mythology, talk to people who worship those gods. Ask them what a respectful portrayal would look like. If possible, include a note in your finished work reminding audiences that it is a work of fiction and not meant to accurately portray these gods.

[wangxianficfinder]

Secret Relationship / Relationship Reveal

~*~

💖 demons run when a good man goes to war by Miranda_Aurelia (T, 20k, wangxian, LWJ & NHS, JYL/JZX, canon divergence, angst w happy ending, NHS & LWJ friendship, not JGY friendly, dark LWJ, revenge, (presumed) major character death, not LXC friendly)

dirty politics by sarahyyy (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern, Politics, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Love Confessions)

🔒 A heated Livestream. by satans_dolly_boy666 (G, 1k, WangXian, WWX & OCs, JC & WWX, WWX & NHS, Modern, livestream, gamer, Established WangXian, Possessive LWJ, Supportive LXC, Jealous LWJ, Internally screaming WWX, Internet Famous, Sugar Daddy, OK no but still-, College/University, College Student WWX, LWJ is fucking rich, Gossip, Surprises, Surprise Kissing, Secret Relationship, Idiots in Love, Dorks in Love, Showing Off, LWJ is a little shit, Identity Reveal, Relationship Reveal, Gay Panic)

🔒To Make Him a Perfect Bride by Hinu (E, 139k, WangXian, Modern, Feminization, Crossdressing, Marriage Proposal, Romantic Comedy, Meet the Family, Homophobia, Cultural Differences, Discrimination, Wealth kink, Potentially Unhealthy Beauty Standards, Rich LWJ, Power Bottom WWX, Sugar Daddy LWJ, Plot With Porn, Mild Kink, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Coming Out, Implied Canon-Typical Child Abuse, Phone Sex in Public, Sexual Harassment, competent wwx, Financial Domination, Sexual Roleplay, Light BDSM, WWX’s dog phobia, Submissive LWJ, Blood, Smoking, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, WWX’s dissociative panic attacks in later chapters, Gay LWJ, Protective LWJ, Weddings, Wedding Planning, Secret Relationship, Genderqueer WWX, BAMF NHS, Gay WWX, LWJ and WWX Have a Breeding Kink, fem! WWX is A-Jingyi’s and A-Yuan’s sexual awakening, Office Sex, Airplane Sex, Happy Ending, Class Differences, Crazy Rich Asians Fusion)

Flowers Blooming in the Dark by TheLegendOfChel (T, 64k, WangXian, Gods & Goddesses, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, but it's still in a xianxia/wuxia setting, Pining, Mutual Pining, Courtship, Forbidden Love, Hades and Persephone AU, Kidnapping, Kind Of, Smitten LWJ, Smitten WWX, Fluff, Courting Rituals, Secret Relationship, Minor XuanLi, Minor ChengSang, references to wwx's canonical kinks, Child LSZ, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)

Shine Brightly, That I May Glow by TheLegendOfChel (M, 62k, WIP, WangXian, sun/moon au, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, except maybe some bad guys, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, only wangxian are soulmates though, Secret Relationship, Secret Identity, Mutual Pining, Protective LWJ, BAMF LWJ, Protective WWX, BAMF WWX, Light Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, Minor ChengSang, On Hiatus)

After the Final Rose by azurewaxwing (E, 55k, wangxian, modern, reality show au, secret relationship, fluff & angst, happy ending, bachelor LWJ, cameraman WWX, smut)

Gold Blood Eyes by Loveable_Psychopath (T, 72k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Except the bad people, Dark LWJ, i guess?, Established WangXian, Secret Relationship, Sentient Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, Found Family, LWJ is Whipped, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mental Health Issues, Communication, but also miscommunication, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, YZY Bashing, JFM Bashing)

🔒Step by step by apathyinreverie (T, 12k, WangXian, JFM and YZY Bashing, not particularly Jiang family friendly, Guilt, Fluff, past angst, Flashbacks, Protective LWJ, Soft WWX, adorable a-yuan, Friendship, Family, Getting Together, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, basically organ donation as the modern day equivalent of the core transfer, and wwx not having entirely recovered, Modern AU, Domestic WangXian, Domestic Fluff) - which isn't tagged as such but I believe qualifies.

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