#god of flies

[ericsfanfictions]

New Demigod Cabin: Myiagros

Myiagros, also called Myiodes or Myiakores, is a minor god of flies that was worshipped in parts of ancient Greece. He is invoked to keep flies away from animal corpses that are being offered as sacrifices to the gods. Sometimes his name or a similar one were used as epithets for Zeus, Apollo, or Heracles.

While some civilizations like Egypt and Mesopotamia viewed flies positively as messengers of the death god or the souls of the departed, the Greeks had a more negative view. They were associated with disease and impurity in addition to being annoying. There are stories of Zeus and Hera sending flies to torment individuals they don't like, and Selene once turned her rival for the love of Endymion into a fly.

Myiagros' cabin is simple on the outside, made of dark grey stone and circled by a stone walkway with fly mosaics. To the left of the cabin is a Bradford Pear Tree, which is a type of tree that smells bad and is pollinated by flies instead of bees or butterflies. Outsiders assume the cabin to be dirty and smelly inside with tons of the bugs flying around. In actuality the cabin is quite clean there are usually no more flies than an average household. As a god of purification, Myiagros' cabin is also protected by strong religious magic and sacred spells, making its inhabitants safe from ghosts, demons, and bad dreams or visions. The walls inside the cabin are decorated with various 15th-16th century portraits and still lifes featuring a musca depicta ("painted fly"). There's also a special tropical greenhouse attached to the cabin that contains a corpse flower (titan arum) affectionately nicknamed Beelzebub as well as other carrion flowers. As repayment to Myiagros for a past favor, Demeter blessed the titan arum with special vitality, making it grow bigger and more colorful than usual. It normally takes these giant flowers 7-10 years to bloom, but Demeter's gift enables it to bloom every three years.

Myiagros' demigod children tend to be smaller/shorter than average. They have a "super fly" sense of fashion and often rival Aphrodite's kids when it comes to outfits and accessories. All demigod children children of Myiagros own at least one piece of jewelry featuring a fly encased in amber. They're also very spiritual and have a strong respect for the gods and the dead. They understand the disdain people have for flies while recognizing their importance as pollinators. Myiagros' children tend to befriend demigod children of Hades and other death and decay-related deities, with whom they enjoy watching zombie movies and TV shows.

Demigod children of Myiagros are immune to diseases transmitted through insects, and horrible smells don't bother them. They can mentally communicate with flies and use them as messengers to each other, as well as summon clouds of flies to help in battle. They're very quiet and observant of their surroundings and can blend in easily when in large crowds, moving around unnoticed. For these reasons Myiagros' children make good spies and watchers. They're also more resistant to enchantments and better at sensing danger, making them good opponents of enemies who rely mostly on magic. Myiagros' powers of purification can be channeled by his children to shoot an aura from themselves that blasts back monsters and demons that are nearby. They're also fast, but otherwise don't have much advantage in physical, hand-to-hand combat. Snow, ice, and cold temperatures are their greatest weakness.

Historical Demigods/Legacies: C. F. M. Swynnerton, John Merton Aldrich, Michael Crichton, Brian Roy Stuckenberg

Cabin Members: Devika Nyaua, Carrie and Maggie Klein, Pavel "Paul" Maly, Regulus and Amber Bradford Head Counselor: Carrie Klein

[tricksterfly]

one of my favorite things about Loki Laufeyjarson is that he respects my lifelong fear of spiders (and my inability to breach that right now). he was like, “you know what? then i’ll send you flies instead.”

after trying for weeks on end to get a photo, i finally got one :) i think i’ve been seeing even more lately in light of Mabon 🖤

[egophiliac]

(almost) four years in, and I finally had time to draw something for the anniversary! woo! 🎉🎉🎉

[daughter-s-of-cain]

[queenincrimson]

JOSEPH QUINN as EDDIE MUNSON    ⮑ STRANGER THINGS 4 - Part 1 (5.27.2022)

[daughterofcainnnn]

[mythwoven]

"GOD LOVES YOU BUT NOT ENOUGH TO SAVE YOU."

Jean d'arc by GIIH / Sheryl Lee as Laura Palmer, Fire Walk with Me (1992)

[ange111diary]

[mad-girlslove-song]

ethel cain literally suffered more than jesus christ

[spearxwind]

Happy 10th birthday to Cercerion!

OUGHHH UR RIGHT CERCIE IS 10 YEARS OLD NOW !!!!!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY BOY BELOVEDEST DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HIS WHOLE LIFE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bitesonmyneck]

i believe ♡

[shortnotsweet]

[ “SOMEBODY TOLD ME”]:

BREAKING MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME. SEVENTEEN TRACKS AND I’VE HAD IT WITH THIS GAME. A BREAKIN’ MY BACK JUST TO KNOW YOUR NAME—BUT HEAVEN AIN’T CLOSE IN A PLACE LIKE THIS.

— The Killers, Hot Fuss (2004)

Princess Rhaenyra’s insolence is wearing her stepmother’s patience thin. Queen Alicent is not ten years her senior, but even during her own sixteenth year, she cannot recall herself behaving so brazenly. She would never burst into courtly discussions in nothing but gilded armor and the underskirts of her riding leathers, awash in blood. (She would never be spotted in blood that was not her own, anyway. Alicent has never picked up a sword, not one that belonged to her.) Nevermind that Rhaenyra is attending to diplomatic affairs with bared teeth and scales, no—the crux of the matter is just that, her affairs. Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight, a beauty incomparable to any fair maiden, Alicent included. She indulges herself with appetite of a spoiled child, the confidence of man, and the pickings befitting only to her royal blood. Criston Cole. Daemon Targaryen. Harwin Strong. Laena Velaryon. She’s full of love, isn’t she? That selfish, foolish girl. What does Rhaenyra Targaryen know of love, of duty? She is a child in so many ways—she thinks killing makes her a man, thinks the throne is hers despite being a woman, thinks she can have her knight and her uncle and her protector and Laena Velaryon in one fail swoop. She’s wrong. She doesn’t know herself half as well as Alicent does. Alicent, who sees her for what she truly is, who wants to see all of her and more of her and none of her. Alicent has been stolen into the Keep by her own father—both of their fathers—but Rhaenyra is the key to this place, is the window to everything barred. Rhaenyra Targaryen has a dragon. Rhaenyra can fly.

That’s what Rhaenyra had promised her once, with her lips pulled back in a grin, exposing the white of her teeth like the violently radiant creature she was. “Perhaps when you grow tired of plotting against me, we shall ride on dragonback together,” she had said. The tease.

Alicent had yanked her into an empty corridor by the silk of her sleeve, ready to chastise her for her ill behavior. Conversing with the lords and ladies of the court at a feast was one thing, but chattering about her bloody encounters in battle over the pudding tureen were another. The lord at her elbow was going green. Alicent’s own face was likely red; her heart raced whenever Rhaenyra got like this. Alicent had never seen the battlefield—only seen battered men in dented armor and the slumps of corpses lined along dirt roads in the aftermath of war—but her own imagination terrified her like nothing else.

(Rhaenyra is better with a sword than half of the knights in Westeros, and more lovely than the lot. Her reign has not yet begun, but already the commoners flock to her—lured in by tales of her beauty and fine hair—and soldiers would follow her into battle. Alicent would not follow, but she would watch and bite her nails down to the quick.

She thinks of the figure Rhaenyra cuts in full armor, the heat in her gaze underneath the slots of her helmet. Alicent remembers the weight of her own hand in Rhaenyra’s—which was gloved—when the princess rode up to the spectators box and grasped it in her own, bringing Alicent’s knuckles to her lips. She thinks of Rhaenyra murdered in the sky, skewered with another man’s sword, plummeting to the ground, torn in half, streaking crimson across the clouds. Alicent would scream, or cry. She might laugh. She would throw herself from the window of her tower. Rhaenyra’s bloody exploits terrified Alicent for reasons she could not identify, and excited her for reasons she refused to.)

“I’d sooner be confined to the castle for the rest of my days than get on the back of that bloody lizard,” Alicent scoffed. Rhaenyra only tucked her hand over Alicent’s, where it was resting on her forearm. She flexed her fingers, moving to release her grip on the dark fabric, but Rhaenyra intertwined their fingers and held them fast.

“You’re confined already. You are already accustomed to such a thing. I know you. But—”

“But you forget yourself. You think you’re invulnerable, Rhaenyra. You don’t know who you are.” Alicent intends for it to be a sneer, but instead it comes out quietly, and too gentle for disdain. She can’t know. Rhaenyra is as trapped as she is, but they’re trapped together. They belong together. She belongs with Alicent.

“I am Rhaenyra Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne and all of Westeros. I am a dragonrider. I am—I am your daughter. In a way. Your sister, too. Your enemy. Your sword, your shield.”

“And what am I?” What else is left for me? Alicent wonders.

“My Queen. For now.” Rhaenyra cocks her head, and the gleam in her eyes burns like fire raining down. “When I am Queen, you will be my lady.”

[italyveneziano]

Old redraw of an even older drawing ☺️ They are the father and son ever. To me (please don't tag as ship!)

[roune]

whoops caught red handed + extra

[leninisms]

lorde, “buzzcut season” // phoebe bridgers, “chinese satellite” // ethel cain, “sun bleached flies” // julien baker, “go home” // taylor swift, “my tears ricochet”

[daughterofcainnnn]