#gods whose followers make sacrifices

[continuousmeowing]

i started the silt verses yesterday and OHHH MY. I’m not going to be normal about this.

[yuujispinkhair]

Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons

After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."

Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.

Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

There is art now for this fic by the lovely @sweetlandspos! Thank you so much Émilie, for bringing Viking!Sukuna to life! He's so beautiful!

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock. 

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."

+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.

AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!

Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[gabichanwrites]

I think that way too many people gloss over the reason why exactly those 6 men were such a big deal and a last straw for the crew and Eurylychous. Up to this point Odysseus made mistakes, yes, and people died because of them but never before has Odysseus made such a deliberate sacrifice.

Before this, he was still their Capitan - a bit arrogant, too prone to playing into Gods' Games and with a damnation right on his heels - but still on their side. Not to mention that this saga happens SO soon after Circe Saga, where he CAME BACK for them, put himself in grave danger and risked his return home to save THEM. Since the wind bag fuck up, this crew must have regained so much trust in him, Eurylychous must have felt so indebted and plagued by his own guilt because of his actions in Ocean Saga and Circe Saga. Because despite their doubts and question of How Much Longer Till His Luck Runs Out, their Capitan still came and saved them.

And then the Different Beast happens and it's ruthless and cruel but it's against their enemies, it feels like protection, no doubt. It's their Capitan making sure that they can make it home, that no other monster will follow them and make it impossible.

But then the Scylla happens and it never has been more clearer than there. Eurylychous would not be that furious if he didn't realize and he IS a second-in-command, he is not stupid. Six men who held the torches died and it was by Odysseus' order. This is no longer slaying every foe on the way home, this is Odysseus willing to sacrifice even them. Is it the same capitan who came back for them on Circe's island, is the same who always did everything he could to make sure they all made it back? How Are They Supposed To Trust Him Now?

This situation is so fucked and both sides have their point, I'm so sick of seeing posts putting the full blame on either side. They are all human and stressed and they don't know what to trust, what to do to come back home - and the worst part of it all, they probably never stood a chance.

After all, Zeus has already said they The Blood On Your Hands Is Something You Can't Lose, All You Can Choose Is Whose.

[atheneum-of-you]

Libations

As a Hellenic polytheist, one of our most important duties to our gods would be to give libations. Libations are liquid offerings to our gods, not only in recognition of them and their importance but as an invitation into our lives for them.

When it comes to giving libations, it can be difficult for those of us practicing and worshipping in secret. So in this post I'll go over typical libations and how they're given, and then some methods I believe would be helpful for those that can't give openly! Please keep in mind that the suggested methods (for those practicing in secret) come from someone who is still navigating and learning her own religion. As always, do your own research where needed and do methods that make you most comfortable in your practices.

Typical Libations

Wine (typically red)

Symbolic of the divine ether, and Zeus's influence on the soul. Additionally, dark red wine represents the blood of Dionysus/Zagreus. We drink his blood as reflectance for his sacrifice by the titans and the eating of his flesh. It represents his metamorphosis, and in turn, our own cycle of birth.

Milk

Representative of Hera and Ira, whose breast milk formed the galaxies and cosmos. Milk also represents the earth.

Honey

Honey is golden which is incredibly symbolic of the gods, particularly their ichor (the blood of the gods). Honey is also a powerful preservative representing the immortality of the gods.

Fine oil (typically olive)

Oil historically symbolizes life, prosperity, and the divine spirit.

Milk and honey together are also a considerable libations but is particularly good for death related gods and the honoring of the dead. Milk and honey libations for them should NOT be consumed.

Giving Libations

To give libations, you would first pick up the offering bowl full of whatever you are giving with your right hand, then hold it with both and recite a dedication. The dedication itself is up to you but the example I saw is as follows:

"We dedicate this libation to khrismôdós Apóllôn and aithǽrios Diónysos and to all the happy, deathless Gods!"

Libations can be made to a singular god or multiple at once. Just ensure you have enough for them equally. Dedications can also be to a singular god or you can name the ones you are dedicating to.

Once you've made your dedication, you'll transfer the bowl to your left hand and pour your offering on the ground or into whatever reservoir you have dedicated to it on your altar. This is your libation, and the offering now belongs to them. Once you've made your libations, you may sip from the remaining contents of the bowl as communion. Before doing so, you may recite a prayer. Here is an example:

"We drink the blood of Diónysos! May the Aithír of Zefs intoxicate our souls and transform us!"

Please be aware that you should NOT drink libations to the dead or to death gods.

When sipping from the remainder of your libations, do NOT sip from the part where you poured. You should drink from the opposite end of the bowl.

Libations in Secret

When you're practicing in secret, this method of libations can be incredibly difficult. So with that, here are a few ways that I think could be helpful!

Can't access or drink wine/milk/honey? Substitute them for water or better yet, flavored juices!

Pomegranate juice can make a good libation for Underworld gods and goddesses, apple juice would be good for Zeus, etc. Research your deity's associations and try working with them. Water is also life-giving and integral to life.

Can't pour your libations outside or in a dedicated offering bowl? Use cups!

Pour your libations directly from the bottle to a cup and sit it on a shelf or desk or wherever you've dedicated to your god. You can recite your prayers and dedications in your head as well.

Worried about wasting drinks? Offer a smaller amount!

Typically what you give should be more than you keep, but your gods understand your struggles and would be understanding of your intentions. Offer a small amount of your drink, honey, etc and inform them of your reasonings and intentions. Your gods love you, they'll be happy with your efforts regardless.

Can't do your libations during the day? Do them at night!

Give your libations while everyone is asleep. You can even hide it under your bed or behind something to keep it for the time you want. (Please be careful of doing this with honey and be mindful of possible insects, pets, pests, spills, etc)

A minor? Do your libations at school!

You can do your libations while at school by making them during a PE class, during lunch, or any period of time where you can take a moment to do so! (I'm not condoning using your bathroom breaks to sneak off and do them, I'm just saying you definitely could do that)

Regardless of how you do your libations and with what, your practice is your own as is your relationship with your god(s). Do what feels right for you ♡

[smallgodseries]

If she could make people understand one thing and one thing only, it would be this: that food has no moral value, and that anyone whose pantry can be considered “full” is a virtuous person in her eyes, regardless of whether that fullness is kale chips and quinoa or Girl Scout cookies and pre-mixed buttercream frosting.  She cares about the quality of the shelves, their fullness and fineness, not their contents or what the latest diet craze has to say about those contents.

If she could make people understand two things, it would be that a well-stocked, well-indexed pantry is a palace beyond price, a lofty cathedral filled with miracles waiting to be mixed.  Cakes to be baked, potatoes to be peeled, spices and seasonings over which people have so very often gone to war, ready to be sprinkled over meat or folded into casseroles.  Holes in the shelves are not to be borne; a regularly updated shopping list is worth a thousand impulse buys or once-a-year stocking runs.  Every household should, in her eyes, be able to shut its doors and sustain itself for as long as plausible.  She understands all too well that not everyone can afford the luxury of a proper pantry, and she weeps for those outside the warmth and light of her hearth, whose stomachs are too often empty, whose soups, when they exist at all, are too often unseasoned.

She would feed the world, given rice enough and time.

If she could make people understand three things, it would be that another cup of water can always be added to the pot, that one more potato can always be diced into the hash, that one more egg is not so great a sacrifice, for look, the poorest among her following understand these things, make their offerings both wise and wide, fill the bellies of those around them.  For even the fullest shelf will be empty in a moment if placed before the starving, and so she will accept no hunger among her faithful that could be filled, will believe no table full when a single plate more could be placed upon it.  There is always room to feed your fellows.

She was a god of harvest once, and plenty.  She still is.

But seriously, replace your spices every four years, or they won’t be anything but faintly scented powder, and that is a blasphemy in her sight.

[dark-dragon-8]

A Supernatural × Batman crossover where the Batfam are actual cryptids and the brothers are sent to hunt them, only to find out that these guys are pretty much immortal, god like beings whose only weaknesses are each other, the sun and some weird sentient manifestation of their home city that they seem to care about, and most of them already grew out of the second one, since, apparently, the sun only affects them when they're newborns/newly transformed/changed.

The whole reason they ended up in Gotham in the first place was because of some online rumors saying that there is a demon cult in the city, as well as Blüdhaven [it's true, partially, the Bat clan has had several cults and/or religions painting them as godly beings/saviours of Gotham throughout the years, still do (imagine the colonies from F'ing Demon Bats, only this time the cryptid part of them is actually real)] along with shrines for human sacrifices.

At first they thought the locals sold themselves to a Pagan God in exchange for their safety, that the shrines and "holy grounds" spread throughout the city were for blood and human sacrifices and the creatures were feeding on the souls of their followers or something.

Turns out, that couldn't be further from the truth. Yes there were bloody sacrifices at the shrines, but most of the time those were just grieving kids bringing their dead pets to silence's holy grounds for them to be healed, or taken care of, by the spirit and have their souls at peace. But, again, that was rare, and only occurred at the holy grounds themselves rather than the shrines people attended to daily.

Majority of those shrines were filled with books, art supplies, music boxes with ballerinas and, sometimes, you could even find a few trinkets and computer parts, as well as the occasional plates and plastic boxes filled with home cooked meals, sometimes they even put pots and kettles filled to the brim with savory goods and nice tea. Nobody ever touched the food, not even the poor and desperate, when asked why all the brothers received were looks of horror and hushed whispers about how "The bats don't like thieves" and "They'll stop coming by the shrine, maybe even destroy it if we do that"

Dean didn't like it, neither did Sam, they didn't like how the locals, people who barely even bat an eye when they see a dead body on their way to work, get so scared and terrified as soon as they hear of something that might displease the Bats. They tried asking around, trying to figure out what is it that makes them so scared of their dearly beloved deities, after all, they talk about them like such a wonder, like they're the best thing that ever happened to them. Hell, one of them is named Mercy and was revered for its compassion and understanding of those around them.

They only got their answer when investigating a place called Crime Alley. They locals were all the same, if not even more reserved than their city's counterparts, but there was one person, a young girl who couldn't be older than ten that said she'll be willing to answer their questions in return for some money and stories from their time as hunters. They were reluctant at first, but seeing as they haven't had much of an option, they agreed.

"So, Masey" Dean started

"Missy" she corrected

"Right, sorry, Missy, you said that you could tell us what's up regarding those demons"

"Deities" she said sternly, the man simply nodded "And yes, I can do that, but you'll have to do something for me first"

"And what would that be?"

"You said you were a hunter, right?" He nodded "And you also said you have some money. So I want you to give me two hundred dollars, cash, and a written story containing at least three of your adventures with your partner. You can't use big fonts, lie or omit any details from the story, it needs to be one hundred percent real and legible and needs to be at least fifty pages, understood?"

Dean was confused, confused and worried. Why would this child need a story about them hunting monsters? And why did she need it to be so long and accurate? Was she trying to sell them out to the Bats or something? Why was this so important?

A million questions flooded his head and looking at Sammy, he could tell the feeling was very much mutual.

"Um Missy" it was Sam talking to her this time "Why would you want a story of us hunting like that? We could tell you about our time together on the field, if you want, but why do you need that written so meticulously?"

The little girl shook her head before he even finished speaking "No, no, I need it written"

"How so?"

"For Passion, of course"

"Passion?"

"Yeah, Passion, the component watching over Crime Alley, it loves reading stories but only when they're worth it. It doesn't like when people give them stories only to please it or for it to give them undeserved attention. It needs to be good and interesting, a story about two hunters will definitely do that"

The two hunters met each other's eyes, both their expressions filled with worry, apprehension and suspicion.

"And why all the other rules? Why does have to be so long and accurate?"

The girl tilted her head, looking at them as though they've said something stupid "Because you're introducing yourself, maybe"

"I can't just tell you guys all there is to know about the Bat without at least one of the components acknowledging you guys and giving me permission to share that information with outsiders"

"And what makes you think it won't just kill us as soon as it realizes what we do for a living?" They might've been desperate, but that doesn't mean they're going to give an essay about their weaknesses and hunting methods to a freaky, probably homicidal spirit on a silver platter

"Because they like people like you, people who put their lives on the line in order to help those around them. Also" she leveled her gaze with Dean's, which was pretty impressive considering she barely reached his hip "Had it wanted you dead, you wouldn't have been able to take two steps inside Crime Alley without having a heart attack, or your head magically disappearing"

The two brothers tensed, the taller's eyes rapidly scanning their surroundings, hands fishing out a weird cellular device, probably an EMF reader or maybe a bottle of holy water, as the shorter failed to keep up his confident facade in front of the (probably) ten year old (because Dean isn't going to be spooked by a kid that hasn't even reached the double digits yet, he's 𝘯𝘰𝘵)

The little girl laughed, completely ignoring their - very justified!!! - panic "Relax, would ya? Passion doesn't kill people unless they feel like it's necessary"

They didn't seem to be very relaxed, she didn't care, she just told them to meet her again on the border of Crime Alley and its neighbor city in a week, before leaving.

Two hours later, Carrie Kelley was skipping into the main living room of Wayne Manor, where several of her siblings played video games and with their father reading the newspaper on the side, the perfect illusion of a normal, happy, completely human family.

She walked up to Bruce, sitting on the arm of his sofa as the last of her illusion magic slipped away

"Did you do it?"

"I offered them the deal, still not sure if they'll end up actually agreeing to it"

"Mn. You did well"

The young teen preened under the praise, thanking her father before going off to boast and scheme with the rest of her siblings, they were up planning contingencies and devising plans until Sundown.

[gentlemean]

I present to you: The Whitegull River Symphony.

A classical symphony in four movements, inspired by @thesiltverses! The most recent episode swept me away in a river of creative inspiration, and I couldn't help but follow this stream to whatever murky depths it wanted to take me.

Creative thoughts and details beneath the cut.

The Whitegull River Symphony is written in f-Minor for a full symphonic orchestra. My rendition was created in FLStudio, using Spitfire's BBC-Symphonic-Orchestra plugin, as I am just one mediocre violinist without an entire orchestra at hand.

First Movement: River Angels, Allegro Assai

The first movement is dominated by the steady rhythm of the celli and violae, who act as the slow waves of our murky river. Among these waves, the faithful have prepared a sacrifice. Their hopeful prayers flick aross the water in the first half of the movement, and are answered by the scutteling, chittering spawn of the river in the second half.

Second Movement: Pilgrimage of the Prophet, Adagio

In the second movement, we focus entirely on our favorite little prophet (whose brilliant performance inspired me to make this. The existence of this symphony is your fault, @sassylich). He marches on through the silt with slow steps, while the clarinet plays his theme. His little schemes behind the scenes are played by the string section, the obvious warning signs are announced by the horns. Nevertheless: In the end, everyone is playing his tune.

Third Movement: The Withermark, Andante

And here we go, the river's might is unleashed. The angels of the river god approach unstoppably, drawn here by the prophet: His clarinet is setting the tune for the overwhelming wrath of the trawlerman. Nothing can stand in its way, but after the tides have calmed, new life can grow in their wake.

Fourth Movement: Katabasis, Allegro Assai

Katabasis, the descent into the depths. Nothing escapes the greedy maw of the Trawlerman, nobody can float above, untouched. All the instruments we've hear so far return, desceding into the roiling depths of the bassline. This is not a comforting or hopeful ending, this is an apocalypse.

[xkiralix]

The Divine Creator

Part 1 part 2

Everyone knew who their creator was. Ethan, the divine creator of Teyvat, the one who even Celestia prayed to and so did the seven archons. There was no beast, no animal, no human, no god, no being that didn’t hold him in the highest pedestal of all.

They celebrated in his name, killed in his name, fought on his name, drank on his name, and died on his name. He was the poet, the knight, and the king, he was all, is all.

From the warm summers of Liyue, to the cold winters of Snezhnaya. Their grace was praised.

The joy they all felt when the golden vessel came was unimaginable, joy that turned to jealousy. That vessel whose name was Aether wasn’t worthy of you, what could you see in this outsider? Was what every being wondered. Yet no one dared go against their divine god.

They knew you were watching them through those golden eyes, analyzing every movement and going through all the nations. Barbatos was ashamed of himself, he was unable to give you a proper welcome. Morax tried to stop his contract, he wanted to greet you personally, give you a tour and show you how well they were doing in comparison of Mindstadt. He couldn’t. He cursed himself for this, he should’ve waited more, he should’ve went after the Tsaritsa.

Ei was clueless and ashamed of her actions, how could she do this to you? She wanted to drop to her knees and beg for forgiveness but she couldn’t. Nahida was embarrassed, which is why she tried to be as helpful as she could. Furina and Neuvillette were both surprised and relieved at the same time, their nation wasn’t the worse one, surely you could understand that Celestia could be… difficult.

Aether took advantage of his title as the divine creator’s vessel to find his sister. He knew who you were, you were praised all throughout the stars and worlds yet he didn’t say a word to the archons. He quickly noticed that unlike his homeland, Teyvat was still a relatively young world. He marveled at the idea of being one of the first to know of your most recent work as the order still hadn’t added Teyvat into the system.

He forgot his sister for a moment.

He knew more of you than the others did. His mother had told him and his sister all about you in tales. While not much was known of your first life, they knew a lot of your second life, when you were introduced as (Name) of house Talix almost 6 billion years ago. The union between the goddess of knowledge and peace Bella and the god of life and nature. From that union was born a boy who held resemblance to the one who created life, Ethan.

He was told of how you overcame corruption and freed them all from the cruel world they built in your absence. How kind you were to go as far as reincarnating, breaking the rules you yourself had made, all to save them. They recognized their wrongdoings, they tainted the paradise you had built for them, it was only right for them to make it up for you. Aether was a bit… ashamed that Teyvat, a world that was still far too young and didn’t know all that history, acted do loyal since the start and followed your law.

Something this own homeland didn’t do… they had to see you be born again and suffer to free them for them to finally praise you as you deserved. They made you lose your life a second time.

Ethan, your grace, father, divine grace, your highness, prince, (Name)… who were you anymore? You didn’t know. From the start, you didn’t know. You were what everything else was, a mere atom floating around, well… many atoms that united like sticky balls to evolve. How long were you alone? Far enough to learn how to make others like you. You didn’t want worshippers or servants, you just wanted company. But of course, your wishes were always just dreams. So you kept yourself busy with building and making more life.

Fixing their problems, you learned to tolerate their “gifts” that consisted on human sacrifice. You accepted your deaths and rebirths, as if you hadn’t already tried to completely eliminate yourself from existence. Not like a knife of divine blood to the heart, a curse to your soul, a night of bleeding out or being burned alive could do anything to you.

When you awoke in Teyvat you felt the same way as in those other planets, numb. Yet the smell of a warm meal made the hunger in your human body awake. That was the only thing that encouraged you to rise from the ground.

Ik this is confusing, ik. You’ll see everything as the story goes on, I have no schedule. I’ll pretty much update when I feel like it’s enough so don’t wait for a weekly update. Bye! 😊

[ennas-aesthetic]

What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?

This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.

Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)

First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.

But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.

(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)

The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.

Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.

Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.

'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'

- (Good Omens, 1990)

That is NOT what happened to Jesus.

Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)

Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.

UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.

"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)

We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:

"JESUS

(muttering through the pain)

Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .

Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.

CROWLEY

You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?

AZIRAPHALE

Smirk? Me?

CROWLEY

Well, your lot put him on there.

AZIRAPHALE

I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."

- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)

SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."

Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.

(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)

Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.

In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.

And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.

Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.

[alicerosejensen]

Heyyyy hope you’re doing well!!

Please can you imagine Leon (re6) loosing his shit because they kidnapped his girlfriend and he’s like trying everything to get her back? Imagine him crying as soon as he gets to hug her again!😭

I'm fine as long as I have a laptop connected to the internet and food)

In fact, this is one of my favorite plot tropes, when someone is kidnapped, and the main character is ready to burn the whole world to the ground, but to find an expensive person.

Leon, despite his moral principles, I think he could have made many sacrifices. In particular, he would definitely lose his temper if he grabbed onto any thread to find his beloved. At least he didn't stand on ceremony with Patrizio.

Thus, there will be little left of the scoundrel who kidnapped his girlfriend.

Something constantly happens to the poor girl of Leon (either she runs away from him, or she is stolen from him). Sorry, I just love their relationship and Leon, who is ready to kill for his loved ones :D

I still know shit English, but enjoy it if you're interested.

Please read with extreme caution! There are mentions of physical violence, kidnapping and a maniac!Yandere

Leon is a little paranoid when it comes to protecting his loved ones, so most likely he will insert some tracking device into your phone or earrings to be sure that his beloved is safe.

He tries not to violate personal boundaries, but understands that his beloved is in potential danger in relation to him. Therefore, you are under additional invisible protection.

All you need to know is that Leon is not abusing his position as a federal agent. There is no surveillance on you, it's just that if something happens, he wants to have time to prevent it before the irreparable happens (or he goes on a binge again).

His heart sinks at the thought that he may lose you for some reason. Any encroachment into your personal space by outsiders who create discomfort for you make Leon enter the defender mode (aggressive if necessary). You should be safe.

Since Leon is known to a minimum of people about Leon's love interest, the risk is minimal that you will be harmed. At least Leon considered the threat from various corporations and bioterrorists. He didn't even think about the fact that there is some bastard stealing your things.

It was some little things: pencils, hair bands, a pocket mirror, lip gloss. Yes, you said something to him about it, but maybe you just dropped them out of your backpack?

He was calm exactly until you became too nervous. It seemed that you were afraid of something and called him a couple of times with a request to meet on the way home. Leon is not one of those who will refuse, but your behavior worries him.

And when you were walking home, Leon felt your painful grip on his arm.

His main priority is your well-being. "So tell me, pretty girl, what's going on with you?" Don't think I haven't noticed this nervousness.

He will be wary when he hears that someone is following you and dragging your things. Of course you could have lost them yourself, but the chiffon scarf that Leon gave you was the last straw. In addition, you showed him the abnormal love notes that someone constantly threw into your purse.

Outwardly, it did not affect him in any way, but the stingy "I'll deal with it" means a lot. The anxiety level has increased and Leon is worried that some kind of psycho might hurt you.

He often calls and asks if everything is in order and when you need to be picked up from college. However, when you don't answer the phone, everything dies inside him.

The moment he realizes that you have been taken away, a monster wakes up in him, which can bring down hell on your abductor.

His emotional state constantly fluctuates from constant fear for your lives bordering on panic to Ustanak whose task is to find you and finish off the son of a bitch who dared to take you away from him.

"No god will help this son of a bitch when I find him."

It's sad that you lost your phone on the day of the abduction and did not put on earrings. But a nice little bracelet will save you.

are a fucking goddess.

When you wake up, of course, you will be scared. However, you will try to intimidate the criminal by saying that he is so obsessed with you in vain. "Seriously, my boyfriend will come after me and gut you" You don't think Leon will kill anyone at all, so maybe your words don't sound too confident when the kidnapper's hand is stroking your head.

Do you panic when a fucking psycho says it's some kind of date? No one here hears your screams, you can't run away because you're handcuffed. You can't even go to the toilet on your own only under his control, and this causes you a deep psychological trauma. He brings you a fucking lilac, weaving thin twigs into your hair.

"Why me?" - This is the only question that is spinning in your head when you are hysterically pulling out purple flowers, throwing them away from you. - "Am I going to die here?"

You literally go crazy from the smell of dampness and lilac. Constantly shout Leon's name as if he can hear you and immediately breaking into a loud cry, banging on the walls and the locked door.

You're clearly getting claustrophobic.

While you're suffering, Leon is trying to track the fucking signal on one of your trinkets, but he's afraid that you left that day without any jewelry at all.

Claire is definitely one of those people who can talk some sense into Leon while he's looking for you. Considering that the bug gives a bad signal (or maybe your bracelet was damaged due to the fact that you constantly pull it from nerves) from the basement and your location is difficult to track, Leon has already yelled at Chris

You feel like a frog in formalin or even some kind of toy when your abductor brings you clean clothes, which you throw back to him. It's risky to make him angry like that and you really regret it when brute force is used to force you to change clothes.

Yes, then they "take care" of you, but you are already a cornered mouse. The purple marks on your skin and the marks from the handcuffs are now a reminder of who is in charge here.

And you hate that bastard more and more. Unfortunately, you have absolutely nothing to even hit him with. The food that he brings you in plastic dishes, as well as cutlery. You try not to eat, fearing that he might have mixed something in there, but you are forced by force.

It's been three days, and Leon hasn't found you. You feel like you're starting to go crazy until you hear a muffled noise from somewhere above.

All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants

All your belongings (including the bracelet) were seized and probably thrown away, leaving you in one long T-shirt, the smell that causes you to have a gag reflex. You literally have nothing on but this rag and underpants

Has anyone ever told you that you are not the luckiest person?

You tried to attack from behind when they stopped stroking you. It was risky and you failed because the kidnapper reacted before you swung to strike.

You were very painfully punished, left lying on the damp floor in a terrible state, all in tears and without an evening meal.

It's been four terrible days in your life. All because you fiddled with your bracelet too much, which turned out to be thrown away quite far from the place where you were, forcing Leon to go on a false trail.

You felt terrible. It didn't take long to break you. You no longer hoped to see daylight or your loved ones, so you crawled into the farthest corner curled up in a ball and cried.

Having lost track of time due to another fit of hysteria, you did not want to pay attention to the opening door and hurried steps in your direction.

Preferring not to pay attention to your enemy, you became even more hysterical when he tried to turn you around to face him, affectionately calling you "angel".

That's what infuriated you. But when you opened your eyes in another attempt to attack, you froze in disbelief at your own eyes. Have you already gone crazy in this place? So fast, or was Leon really in front of you?

His light blue eyes were dark. Not as bright as usual, but maybe it's because of the lighting… Strong hands carefully examined your body for the number of bruises.

You looked away in the direction of the open door - your freedom, but you felt Leon's fingers gently tracing over your split lips.

You've never seen such quiet hatred before. You were shivering from the cold, feeling that tears were still flowing down your cheeks, and tried to snuggle up to Leon in search of protection and warmth.

But Leon himself pressed you to him, slightly lifting up his T-shirt, checking for underwear. You flinched, and then you heard a single question when you grabbed his back with both hands, pressing your head against his chest.

"That son of a bitch…" - Leon gritted his teeth, still looking at your stolen things on the floor. - "I'll kill him"

The fuse clicked.

Leon took off his jacket, putting it on you (with great difficulty, because you did not want to interrupt close contact with him), and then easily picked up in his arms, like a small child, carrying out of this basement. You closed your eyes just to not see anything else. Leon's scent worked better than any strong sedative, and you wanted him not to let you go anymore.

So small. Defenseless. Bruised all over. He will kiss you on the temple, looking at the sprawled bastard with such a look that it will be clear how it will end. Leon will hand you over to Claire, despite your growing hysteria over the loss of hugs, and do what he has planned.

It's going to be pretty bloody. He expressed some regret about Patricio, but Leon will never forgive someone who hurt you, leaving a scar on your soul. So he'll empty the whole clip on him.

Because of this, he will have some problems, but you are the priority. You will undergo a full examination at the hospital, where Leon will be reassured (partially) that your violence ended with beatings. In general, there are no physical injuries, but both Leon and Claire understand what condition you will be in.

He will take care of you. Try to do everything so that you don't remember that four-day nightmare. He will find a good therapist, but if your brain decided to erase these memories on its own, a kind of protective reaction to stress, then it will even calm him down.

Leon understands the reason for your detached behavior. He is glad that you are not afraid to let him near you, thereby subconsciously making him your shield. he's ready to be one before you start trusting people again.

No one heard it, but Leon was really crying quietly when it was over. You were sleeping after taking a sedative dose, and he was sitting in the bathtub thinking only that he could not save you faster.

He won't touch you once again for fear of triggering some kind of trigger, but in your head it is Leon the hero savior. Therefore, if you are looking for protection in him, then it's even good, because this is how he hopes to redeem himself before you.

In the end, you are faced with dissociative amnesia. You realize that something terrible has happened, but you have a lapse in memory. Leon will be the one who will start distracting you from your memories by persuading you not to remember. He really considers it a gift of fate and will go out of his way so that you don't touch this moment of life at all, leaving him behind a black curtain.

And yet one day he burst into tears clutching to his chest. While you sleep next to him feeling completely safe, Leon will need to hug you tightly and come up with better ways to protect you. He feels guilty that he did not save you and this feeling of guilt will gnaw at him for a long time.

"I'm sorry… sweetheart, I'm so sorry… - what you hear in your sleep. - "Never again…no one will hurt you. Never."You don't remember a damn thing, but you're scared because Leon is crying kissing the top of your head.

He won't let anyone else take you away.

[crematedcow]

She couldn't simply surrender what had been the very essence of her life, the one thing that no one was supposed to have the power to take away from her. Her freedom? Nobody was acutally free. Her love? She could find a way to cope with it. Her child? A heart-wrenching sacrifice, but she could endure it. Yet, this vital part of her, this very core of her being – she would never allow anyone to snatch it away.

And that marked the tale of a parasite.

Of a Patron and Its Chains is a 18+ interactive fiction in a fantasy and steampunk setting inspired by the worlds of The Witcher Series and Fullmetal Alchemist. You are a seasoned hunter tasked with tracking and eliminating dangerous supernatural threats. However, your story takes a turn when you decide to become also a pactbearer.

In this realm where the intricate dance of magic and technology creates a canvas of possibilities, one could easily envision an idyllic existence.

The ability to traverse into other realities, though often at a steep cost, promised rapid advancement that could border on madness. Yet, amid these innovations and developments, lurking dangers remained ever-present. The very act of opening portals to other realms could inadvertently usher in creatures not meant for this world, seamlessly intertwining them with reality.

It was a world where the choice was to either be the hunter or the hunted, and most succumbed to the latter fate. However, your father instilled a different path in you. As a hunter of those creatures, he ensured you absorbed all the survival knowledge you needed before eventually got wrongfully accused and executed, a tragic turning point that reshaped your plans. Rather than simply following in his footsteps to become a hunter, you decided to become a pactbearer.

Summoning a Patron, a legend from diverse worlds and realities, your mission was to unite with fellow pactbearers. Together, you would confront an encroaching evil, all while seeking the fulfillment of a cherished wish granted by a god. Yet, even with the support of numerous companions and your trusted Patron, each victory over a monstrous foe revealed a looming threat waiting just beyond the horizon...

You are the hero... right?

This is an 18+ interactive fiction that is being written on Twine.

be a hunter that kills monsters or embroils into unwanted drama

fully customizable mc from appearance, pronouns and personality

several sidequests to develop your skills as a hunter (includes: Possession, Witches, Ancient Beasts and more)

a beastiarium with further information to every creature you meet on the way

the big world of Vestria & Co. with a lot of lore that you can all uncover - or not!

a cryptic voice inside your head that occasionally breaks the fourth wall

meet the other pactbearers and their patrons and decide what relationship you want to have with them

choose what animal-form your patron is going to have

a total of six companions (including your patron) who will be with you a majority of your journey

all of them are romancable, plus a hidden romance option for those who can be patient

lots of parental issues!

figure out the truth of your world, or fail to do so - there is no right or wrong

and a... cow?

CONTENT WARNINGS: depicitons of death, violence, mental illness, gore (in the territory of body horror), animal cruetly and death, abuse, pornographic content, strong language

More might follow

DEMO TBA

CURRENT WORD COUNT: 21000+

but nothing demo ready yet

The RO's include:

✸ Cú Chulainn (M/F)

In ancient tomes and tales, Chulainn stood as a formidable legend — an indomitable hero whose laughter echoed in the face of enemies and even death itself. They reveled in the thrill of combat, never yielding without a proper battle. Yet, such was the image you held dear until the moment you summoned them into your realm, making them your esteemed Patron. The being before you shattered the illusion you once cherished. No longer did they exude the vigor of a warrior; instead, bitterness clung to their spirit, entwined with a profound disdain for the world and all its inhabitants. Longing for the solace of death they once fervently evaded, Chulainn relinquished their ardor for combat, dismissing it as a hollow pursuit devoid of significance. As a consequence, their role as your Patron proved less than… helpful. Nevertheless, a flicker of optimism lingers within the depths of their desolate heart. Perhaps, against all odds, you possess the power to reignite the flames of purpose within them, offering a renewed sense of hope and the chance for a remarkable new beginning.

✸ Lysander/Lysandra (M/F)

Within the illustrious court of the High Queen, there exists a figure of great repute: Lys, a distinguished servant renowned for their unparalleled ability to fulfill any given task. Their name has become synonymous with perfectionism, as they consistently meet and surpass the lofty expectations placed upon them. The mere mention of their name evokes awe and respect throughout the courtly corridors. Alas, despite their esteemed standing, Lys remains a figure of divisive sentiment. Whispers and murmurs abound among their colleagues, swirling in a ceaseless cycle of gossip. Tales of their rigid and occasionally insolent demeanor dominate these conversations, yet there is another facet that elicits both awe and envy in equal measure. Lys possesses an unparalleled loyalty to the High Queen, a level of devotion that others find almost unattainable. Yet, the reality surpasses the worst of these rumors. Lys' nature transcends the bounds of mere unpleasantness, particularly in their interactions with you. Adding fuel to the fire, they perceive you as a sort of rival, amplifying the tensions between you. One can only wonder if it is merely a facade in an attempt to hide their weakness or the reality of their identity.

✸ Holographic Entity "Holly" (F)

Holly, the Patron of Lys, assumes the guise of a long-haired housecat, but her true essence hails as a revolutionary from a distant reality, a realm of unparalleled advancement far beyond the scope of Vestria. For Holly, her presence in this foreign world feels akin to embarking on an elaborate holiday excursion plucked from the very pages of historical books she once heard of. Her insatiable curiosity serves as the driving force behind her existence, propelling her to seek new experiences and infusing every interaction with a buoyant energy that suggests no challenge is insurmountable. Unafraid to vocalize her thoughts and opinions, Holly fearlessly shares her insights, even when they clash with those of her companion, Lys, particularly when the subject of her candid musings centers around you. Or at least, that is the impression you choose to hold. Her unabashed honesty may lead some to believe that she is a simple, unassuming creature. However, the more time spent with Holly reveals that there is much more to her than meets the eye. After all, one cannot lead a revolution based solely on a smile and an unfiltered mouth.

✸ Elli Agilulf (M)

The Blessed Ones, the esteemed right and left hand of the Night Church, are figures known to all who have ventured beyond the confines of ignorance. Cloaked in an aura of mystery, their veiled faces lend an air of both authority and enigma. Among their ranks is Elli, who strives to embody the idealized image of a Blessed One. He adheres to a code of silence, speaking only when necessary and responding with a detached aloofness. True to form, he carries himself with an air of subtle intimidation. However, beneath his carefully crafted facade, Elli is easily rattled by even the slightest inconvenience or a quick-witted remark, his frustration and anger palpable despite his hidden face. He is short-tempered and stubborn, a nature that clashes with the expectations of his position. As a Blessed One, he is expected to be a mindless automaton, devoid of thoughts or personal desires, but Elli's mind is a swirling vortex of thoughts and emotions, overflowing with complexity. Perhaps it is this contradiction, this clash between his true nature and the expectations placed upon him, that makes Elli an actual enigma. You do feel yourself challenged when he decides that you are a criminal to-become.

✸ Irydion (F)

Irydion holds a perspective that challenges the notion of victory being achieved simply through diplomatic agreements and signed papers. To her, a war is not truly won until she has exacted revenge to those she deems responsible for the suffering inflicted upon her country. As a member of the militia, she is fueled by a desire to fight, her hands trembling with the power of her magic, ready to unleash it upon her enemies on the frontline. While others may perceive an undisturbed silence on the battlefield as a sign of these so called peacetimes, Irydion remains vigilant, recognizing it as a deceptive tactic used by the enemy to lure her into dropping her guard. Too bad she is always a step ahead of those who seek to harm her people! Her selfless dedication to protecting and caring for her fellow countrymen is unwavering, even if it means being seen as misguided or paranoid by those who don't fully understand her. Irydion's allies may acknowledge her kind-hearted nature, but they also recognize her single-minded determination and unwavering belief in the necessity of fighting back against an enemy that is just a shadow. Irydion does not care for these rumors, knowing that regardless of how many may stand against her, they will eventually come to understand the truth of her cause. She remains steadfast, believing that time will prove her right in the end. After all, you believe her… right?

✸ "Junius" (M)

Even as Irydion's patron, the line between their roles blurs, with Junius' approach to her and other humans carrying an arrogantly nonchalant air. His actions, delivered with ease and naturalness, ridicule or charm one without noticing. With a mere lazy wink or a mockish bow, he effortlessly asserts a sense of superiority, deliberately refraining from putting genuine meaning or depth in his antics. Maintaining an elusive detachment, he keeps others at arm's length, preventing them from ever truly getting close to him. Despite his mysterious past, he carries himself as if the weight of secrets hold little significance to who he is. Junius' personality dances on the edge of daring, akin to playing with fire, drawing allure and enticement from the very act itself. He fearlessly indulges in flirting with married women and engaging in challenges with those of higher social standing, defying conventional norms and embracing a provocative existence. There lies a subtle irony in his guise — a wolf rather than a lion — his pride speaking for another form. And even in conversation, he adeptly maintains the facade, never allowing his act to waver, leaving you to question whether it is indeed a carefully crafted performance or indeed the reality of his character.

???

If it wasn't the work of gods, maybe it was fate that brought you together.

And several other characters you meet on your way across the country; other pactbearers and their patrons, tragic lovers, a noisy priest, ill-ridden villages (there is only two but it's weird it happened twice), two twin-rulers who don't seem to get along, a talking book, and more.

[tylermileslockett]

The Ballad of Mulan

an anonymous work of Chinese folklore, is dated from the Northern Wei dynasty (386-534 AD), a period marked by significant Silk Road cultural exchanges and the spread of Buddhism, influenced Chinese art, music, and literature, including Mulan's tale. It was first transcribed in the 6th-century "Musical Records of Old and New" by Guo Maoqian during the Song dynasty.

The ballad embodies key Confucian principles such as Xiao (family devotion) and loyalty (zhong). Confucius (551-479 BC) was a Chinese philosopher whose teachings on ethics and proper conduct, recorded in the "Analects," have profoundly shaped Chinese culture and emphasized social harmony through respect and integrity. These values emphasize respect for family and duty to the state, which are central themes in Mulan’s decision to enlist in the army to protect her aging father.

UNIVERSAL TRUTHS: Filial piety, a key Confucian value, highlights the deep respect and loyalty children owe to their parents and ancestors. Today, filial piety remains crucial in modern Chinese culture, often shown by caring for elderly parents and upholding family obligations. Within your own family, do you see filial piety as a core value? Are you prepared to make personal sacrifices to benefit your family members?

Overcoming Gender barriers: The ballad illustrates that personal empowerment and heroism are not confined by gender. Similar themes appear in historical figures like Joan of Arc, who led French troops, and Deborah Sampson, who fought in the American Revolutionary War disguised as a man. The ballad of Mulan ultimately recognizes Mulan’s merit and contributions based on her abilities rather than her gender, advocating for the value of personal achievement and character over rigid gender stereotypes.

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[tritoch]

one thing i like to do when i'm feeling too unbothered and chill and normal is read venat discourse on twitter. makes me insane every single time it comes up. "she placed herself as a god above the ancients and judged that they had no right to live" "she was taking the only path available to her to stop meteion and defeat the final days because it needed to be a race that could handle dynamis" wrong wrong wrong! learn to read!

venat was stopping a planned mass sacrifice of non-ancient life by the only means available to her. that is the primary motivation for the sundering. shadowbringers says this to you, very very clearly. hythlodaeus in "a greater purpose," 5.0 (this is when you're chilling at the DMV together):

The Convocation of Fourteen─well, it was Thirteen at the time─endeavored to create a will for our star. They would repair the fundamental laws of order and halt the spread of destruction. But creation on such a scale required an immense source of power... Of those of us who still lived, nearly half offered up their lives in the name of salvation. And from their sacrifice, Zodiark was born. Just as we had hoped, He reached forth and halted the march of oblivion. ...Yet oh how the star had suffered. So many species lost. The land was blighted, the waters poisoned, and even the wind had ceased to blow. Once more did our people give of themselves to Zodiark. Another half of our race sacrificed to cleanse the world; to ensure that trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives would sprout and grow and flourish. The cycle of life had begun anew, and we reconsidered the means by which we might protect it. The Convocation decided thus: we would nurture our world until it was bursting with vitality. Then, when the time was right, we would offer some portion of its living energy to Zodiark... In return, He would restore to us those brethren whose souls had fed His strength, and together we would resume our role as stewards. There were, however, those who disagreed with this plan. They argued that enough had been sacrificed to Zodiark─that this new world should belong to the lives newly born. These dissidents surrendered their life energies in the creation of Hydaelyn, an incarnation of their opposing belief. And for the first time in history, our people stood divided... Know you, then, how this conflict ended?

Hythlodaeus is very clear: Following the first 50% sacrifice to Zodiark, the land was dying and there had been a mass die-off. A second 50% sacrifice (so 25% of the pre-Zodiark Ancient population) resolved that, cleansing the world and restoring nature and non-Ancient life. Afterwards, the Convocation planned a third sacrifice: they would "nurture [the] world until it was bursting with vitality," the "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" he describes earlier, and then sacrifice some considerable amount of that life to restore the Ancients comprising Zodiark.

People pretend that there's a lot more ambiguity on this point than there is, but it's quite clear that when he says "myriad tiny lives," he is saying something that encompasses the modern peoples of Eorzea or their very near ancestors (it's only been about 12,000 years since the Sundering. For comparison early modern humans emerged about 300,000 years ago, and there's no suggestion I'm aware of that evolution even exists on Etheirys anyhow). There's a couple very strong pieces of evidence for this:

First, anything that exists on multiple shards must have existed pre-Sundering, since there's close to no multidimensional travel (barring Ascians and the Exarch). Thus, all the player races, which we know exist on each shard so far, as well as, say, the Amalj'aa, the Kobolds, the Sahagin, and the Qiqirn, all must have existed before the Sundering since we also see them on the First.

Second, the phrasing of "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" positions "lives" as a category that encompasses everything that isn't trees and grasses. We can surmise that when he describes the Hydaelyn faction standing for "lives newly born" he's again describing basically everything that isn't plants. this again includes the spoken races of the current game or their ancestors; they are a clear part of what was at stake in the sacrifice.

Third, if that doesn't persuade you that Hythlodaeus is talking about lives like yours, consider that you've just spent the last few quests exploring the city full of giant ancient magic people going "wow! you're so small and childlike! what a miniscule living being you are!" When Hythlodaeus gives this speech about "myriad tiny lives," he is a literal enormous giant sitting next to you, a very tiny living being from his perspective.

This sacrifice, which Hythlodaeus explains to you in the DMV, is the crux of the matter and the root of Venat's choice. The time loop, her knowledge of Meteion, the debate over the right solution to the final days—all of that is secondary. She explicitly is unsure up until you meet her in the Aitiascope whether the time loop is stable and real and applies to you.

The essential issue is the fact that the Ancients are supposed to be stewards of the star, and now they are going to engage in mass sacrifice of lives that Venat knows are people like her and her peers (mostly this is thanks to being a humanist who believes in the sanctity and dignity of life but she also has the confirmation of your post-sundering, totally humanlike existence). Just a quarter of the Ancients' original number remain, their society is in tatters, and what's left is in the process of actively betraying every ideal they ever claimed to hold by slaughtering the life they allegedly guide and care for (which they know to be ensouled!) to undo the great and noble sacrifice of their loved ones.

but venat's faction is weak. it's her and like 13 sorta-important people she knows plus maybe some unnamed others. they lack the numbers or the raw ability to make something that can defeat zodiark, and will need instead to lean on venat's abilities.

her morals do not allow her to stand by as the convocation plans a mass sacrifice of "lesser" life. her circumstances do not give her the time or ability to win them over through rhetoric or decisively defeat them with force. nor can she actually destroy zodiark, because then the final days would simply resume. nor, I assume, is she interested in straight up slaughtering what remains of the ancients until the convocation's plan becomes impractical, assuming she is even strong enough to do so with just the twelve and the watcher's ancient selves for backup. there is no longer an option on the table which does not involve great pain. left to choose between unacceptable options, she chooses the one route which seems able to protect the vitality of the world and uphold the ancients' mission of shepherding all life upon the star towards flourishing: the sundering.

[haravath0t]

zayne x female!reader

synopsis: when the birthday surprise hits you first, then hits the birthday boy harder 

𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤: a frustrated reader, fluff, a comforting zayne 

“Regardless of past, present, and future,I will be with you forever.”

September 5 cannot come fast enough!

That was what you said a week ago. 

It is now September 4, and you cannot be even more anxious. 

Everyone in Zayne’s unit in Akso Hospital are in high spirits, the group chat going crazy about the party you all were about to hold for Zayne.

The venue, the catering, and the decorations for the surprise party were all now taken care of. Everyone in the “Party Planning Pros” group chat had been raving with excitement, already excited to check into the villa for the surprise party.

Except for you.

You had tasked yourself with overseeing the planning party, every box checked except for the one job you had left: the cake. You had sworn the package with the cake should have arrived yesterday afternoon, having waited all day for any notification, any call, any text. However, you were met with absolutely nothing. Even after that dinner with Zayne, you returned to your apartment complex without a box, the most important box of the year, you’d wager. Once more, you decide to check your push notifications, your call history, your texts, all to get radio silence. Only in this hour of desperation did you recall checking your email. 

Order #017492048: Your delivery has been delayed due unforeseen circumstances. Your delivery is to arrive 09/06. Please contact the seller for policies. 

You were unable to well that night. The morning was full of stress and anxiety, Zayne and you having agreed to head over to the villa at 4 PM. By 8 AM this morning, you immediately ran for the grocery store, grabbing something, anything, to make that cake. You had vowed to yourself that this cake will be special, just as special as the one you had ordered for delivery. You even found it in you to sacrifice a lunch break, wanting to make sure Zayne would have a cake to see when September 5 comes along. 

While your suitcase was packed for the trip a grand mess was made on your kitchen island, the once shiny granite now dulled by flour residue, butter left open to the air, boxes and containers left open. You were clad in an apron too, basically squatting deeply as you nervously watched the cake as the minutes tick by. You had hoped that the YouTube video you followed would at least bring about a decent vanilla cake, but the longer you watched the oven, the more your heart sank. 

Taking the trays out of the oven only reaffirmed your worries, the cake looking sunken in the middle. “Shit, shit, shit,” You muttered to yourself, having had no choice but to rub salt into the wound. With shaky hands, you tried your darndest, using the spatula to spread the dollop of frosting onto the sunken cake. “Oh, god, was I supposed to chill the cake?” You muttered to yourself in panic, only to be disturbed by the soft knock on the door. Zayne. “Oh god, no.” 

With sticky fingers, you tapped your phone screen to check the time, your eyes widening as you say “3:15 PM” boldly appear on your screen. You were like a deer caught in headlights, knowing you were unable to cover up what you did. 

“Who is it?” You called out, an attempt to buy time as you washed the frosting off of your hands. 

“You know who.” 

“No, I don’t! State your name and purpose! I’m a hunter, you know!”

“I am Doctor Zayne from Akso Hospital. There. I did what you asked. May you open the door for me? Please?” 

You found yourself at a state of defeat, devastated by the terrible progress that had been made towards a homemade cake. You trudged towards the door, being greeted with a Zayne whose eyes immediately darted to your own. In typical Zayne fashion, he was quick to note your disheveled state, the flour on your apron already giving him hints of your shenanigans. 

“Alright. What are you up to?” Zayne questioned, his own eyes narrowing slightly as he took the seconds to gain more information. You were dissected, your eyes seeming to bear guilt. If you didn’t look so somber, Zayne would have broken into a smile. Your shoulders slumped, ushering the young doctor into your apartment. You don’t dare say anything, your head bowed down in shame like a dog with its tail between its legs. Zayne was right behind you, his eyes wandering now to the messy kitchen.

The mess was the first thing Zayne noted, the counter full of open ingredients, the utensils unplugged and in need of being washed. The oven was unoccupied but the lights were on, some bowls were stacked in the sink. Zayne knew immediately at the sight alone what you were up to, and the man couldn’t help but feel his heart grow warm at the thought. 

“Oh,” Zayne sighed, looking down at your embarrassed features. “Hey, no it’s okay. You did so much work,” He whispered, taking this time to immediately wrap your body into his embrace. It felt warm, heartbreaking even, knowing that this man had continued to show you patience and comfort despite the mess you had made. You let yourself melt into his embrace, feeling the press of his lips against the top of your head. 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Zayne muttered against your head.

“But I wanted to. It’s so rare that you get to celebrate. You always keep working and I thought,” You tried to reason, but you only stopped yourself. You simply sighed against his shirt, relishing in the warmth of his body and the cologne that seeped into your senses. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Zayne breathed, pulling himself away to look into your eyes. When your eyes met his, his lips curled up into a ghost of a smile, the man seeming much more relaxed knowing he can see your face. He was determined to make your spirits be uplifted, even by a little, by deciding to prove to you that your cake was edible, that it was not as bad as you strongly claimed it to be. 

Without a word, he strides to the island, seeing the cake that only had one thin layer of frosting. Needless to say it was cute, seeing the three layers of cake stacked on top of each other to make a cake stand at a decent height. No doubt you were going for a winter motif, seeing the decorations that were meant to adorn the pastry: snowflakes, edible silver glitter, a tiny paper snowman attached to a toothpick, even blue macarons. You watched nervously, but your eyes seemed to relax at the sight of his smile paired with a soft chuckle. No doubt he approved the effort at first glance, the positive first impression making you straighten yourself up. You looked with hope, watching as he dug for a fork to take a piece. His eyes met your own, bringing the piece of vanilla cake into his mouth. 

Zayne gently closed his lips around the fork before taking it out and setting it down, letting his sense of taste take over what type of compliments to send your way. However, the cake was moist, too moist. His mouth felt the supposed baked cake be a mix of crumbs and something that was more liquid than solid: the batter. His facial features fought to remain unchanged, yet the twitch of his right eye only gave him away better than his words possibly could. You couldn’t help but wince as Zayne swallowed that bite, wondering what he’d say next. If there was a man that could hurt with honesty, it was Dr. Zayne. 

“That was the best cake I’ve ever-” “You are a terrible liar, Doctor Zayne!” You countered back, not even letting the brunette finish that poor excuse of a compliment. You noted the way Zayne jumped slightly at the raising of your voice, almost looking unsure of how else to comfort you. 

“It’s vanilla.” “Oh, really? I thought it was red velvet.”

“I like the frosting.” 

“I bought the frosting.” 

“Oh.” 

Silence. 

“Well…”

You could see his insistence in giving you a compliment. Any compliment. However, it only becomes more harmful than beneficial. It’s enough to make you crack up, your shoulders shaking as you conceal your laughter. It was too funny to not laugh, seeing the tall doctor stand there uncharacteristically dumbfounded. Dr. Zayne, the very man who prides himself in research about congenital heart abnormalities, now stands there helplessly as he denied honesty in exchange for poor attempts at sympathy. 

“You’re laughing. I thought you’d be upset.” He blurted out, his hands laid awkwardly by his sides. 

“I don’t know how to feel,” You admitted between quiet chuckles, sighing as you took the steps to be in front of him once again. 

Zayne’s eyes softened at your honest answer, chuckling quietly along with you at the situation you both have found yourselves in. He couldn’t help but still marvel at the effort, knowing by the state of the apartment that you have rushed to put this together. You have been trying everything and anything to pry out answers from him about birthdays and gifts. No doubt that this was something you had looked forward to, that much was certain. Rather than feeling guilt about the labor you have subjected yourself to, he first felt gratitude. Gratitude from the very truth that was laid before his eyes, that there was in fact someone out there that cared for him deeply. So much that the very idea of celebrating him brought light to her eyes, brought about a sense of excitement that he was willing to be the source of. 

His hands gently come up to gently cup your cheeks, gently tilting your face up to you look up at him. The mere notion called you to provide him a better explanation of the underbaked cake. 

“I ordered you a cake. A good one, I will say,” You started, recalling the picture the seller sent you of the cake. “It had, like, winter motifs…and I just wanted to surprise you. It’s not coming on time so,” You paused, your shoulders slumping once again. “So I figured I could make a cake quick enough if I started early in the day. Before you picked me up, but now you’re here, so…” 

Zayne’s brows furrowed, his own attention focused on your words. They were laced with resignation in your tone, you frantic approach towards this underbaked cake something he was easily able to identify. Oh, if you knew he didn’t ask for much when it came to you. You had already done more than plenty when it came to his happiness, let alone during his birthday. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Zayne urged quietly, smiling softly down at you. “It’s just a cake. We can have many cakes, my birthday will not be the only reason to grab a cake. However, the person standing here in front of me, however,” He trailed off, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as his eyes trailed over your features. He can only feel a pang of affection, the mere thought of your being, your attention, your care, a list of endearing traits to describe you. Nothing compares. “The woman making the cake right now is quite priceless. Far more valuable than a cake, if it were up to me.” 

Immediately your heart panged at the tenderness that oozes from this man’s voice. His breath fanned against your skin, your eyes blink in an attempt to stop yourself from crying. The stress has gotten you this far, making you certain you have guided yourself to failure. However, he easily reminded you of just what kind of man he is, why he was so worth the hassle. The sincerity in his words was something that you can never doubt. You simply hummed in acknowledgement, finding yourself at a loss for words. 

“You’re too precious,” He whispered without a thought, his chuckle breathless as he took the time to relish the sight of your flour stained apron, the flustered look in your eyes. It all was meant to make him remember the best birthday he’s ever experienced. He hoped to be able to tell his parents of just what antics his woman brought herself into for his sake. Zayne’s smile was still intact even more so now that you seemed a bit better when all was said and done. “We should probably clean this mess up before we start heading to the villa, hm?” He suggested, snapping you out of your own thoughts.

“Right,” You concurred, feeling his hands let go of your face as you decided to immediately get to cleaning up. However, as you do so, his hand stops you, gently holding onto your forearm as your eyes met his own once again. “What?”

Before you knew it, a bright blue macaron was in your sights. Half of it had been bitten off by Zayne, the man’s head nodding slightly as the flavor burst in his mouth, the sweetness just right before swallowing his piece. Only then were you reminded of the pack of macarons that you bought meant for the cake. He then hands the other half to you, willing you to open your mouth.

“Hold on, we still have salvageable parts of the cake.”

[polaroid-petals]

Drawn for nightshade week day 3: The Real World!

I initially wanted to write about this AU, but as I haven't managed to get the worldbuilding fully figured out yet, I decided to draw the basic references instead!

Omori is a god who has existed for several million years alongside his twin brother, the god Sunny, and his older sister, the goddess Mari.

Humans are a relatively new being that bring with them the ability to empower gods and demons, and over the years, the triumvirate has amassed several followers. One of those was a doctor named Hero who fell in love with Mari.

However, as Mari nears an eldritch entity, humans are like raindrops that fall on a lake to her: insignificant and indistinguishable from one another. In his search for Mari's gaze, Hero began to sacrifice humans to empower himself and gain enough spiritual prowess to become visible to the object of his affection.

Somewhere along the process, Omori gets tired of being used by a human for this goal, but this ends up backfiring when Hero strips Omori of his powers and locks him inside the body of a young adult human that needs sustenance, can't communicate telepathically, and aches and itches all the damn time.

Omori now has to find a way to regain his powers and stop Hero's tyrany. Maybe first learn how to walk and talk.

Stranger is a once-powerful demon whose powers were stripped off him by the god Omori and who has since spent his days mingling with humans and offering a refuge for fellow demons and other creatures reaped by the mysterious human who has somehow felled a thousand demons.

Born several thousand years ago from the trauma of a group of parents who lost their child in a bog, Stranger has lived among humans for as long as he has been on earth. Once, he possessed potent powers to invade people's minds and feast upon their worst traumas, offering a mutually symbiotic relationship where he helps people process their traumas and other heavy emotions. However, in years past, he can barely even grasp emotions, and he has since given up on his help and spends most of his days enjoying the sins of the flesh and mortal pleasures.

One day, he stumbles upon a scrawny human who can't even walk lying by his feet, dehydrated and hypothermic, on the edge of death. Delicious revenge as it would be to devour him, it would simply not be satisfying to defeat an enemy who cannot fight back.

So Stranger decides to help Omori and teach him how to be a human and how to be a human.

For now.

I intend to make this into a larger AU and a fic once I have more time after Stray is finished! Details may change, but this is the general setup.

Below, I've also added marking and body reference.

Stranger's limbs have a gradient to them, and his legs are fluffy. Omori has golden markings on his skin where his old jewellery used to be as a god, but it's only visible under certain angles and with very specific lighting.

[theoi-crow]

The original Hymn to Demeter (aka the Hades and Persephone myth) is a lot more empowering than the modern retellings of the myth!

Reducing Demeter's role in her own myth not only hurts the original culture whose myth modern authors have distorted but it also cheapens the very empowering message that shook ancient Greece!

The reason why this story has always stood out was because it was a story about a loving mother caring for her daughter's well being by fighting the world along with every god that got in her way.

Modern retellings disregard the original context and choose modern topics like the difficult relationship between an overbearing mother and a tired daughter who dreams of freedom. Without proper historical context, they superimpose their own complicated relationship with their mothers and assume their desire to leave the house they were raised in might also be true for Persephone. These retellings show that modern authors don't understand the difficult life ancient Greek women had to face.

To an ancient Greek mother, the death of a daughter was NO different than her daughter's wedding because she was expected to be okay with never seeing her daughter again.

This is why Persephone marries the god of the Underworld. As a goddess that cultivates the earth by creating life, this was the one place Demeter could not visit at the time of Persephone's kidnapping.

The marriage between Persephone and Hades also represented young girls who died before they were able to marry because young girls who died before their wedding were buried in their wedding attire and were called the "brides of Hades" with their deathbeds also being described as their eternal bridal chambers: (Source Link)

There's an example of this custom in Sophocles' Antigone when the king of Thebes, Creon, sentences his niece Antigone to death and as she is getting ready to die she describes her death prison as a bridal chamber and says Persephone's name: (Source Link)

This was also a time period that placed a higher value on sons over daughters! This was a world that ignored the pain of a mother losing her daughter but that same mother was expected to mourn her son via performing an elaborate ritual that required her to tear out her hair and scar her face: (Source Link)

Also, most women in ancient Greece did not have a say in who their daughters married and since it wasn't unusual for grooms to come from out of town they often didn't know where their daughters would be living. The details of the marriage was between the groom and the bride's father who were often close in age, which is why Hades is older than Zeus since Zeus is the youngest of Chronus' children.

Neither the mother nor daughter knew about the arrangements between the father and the groom so bridal kidnappings were very common as well. The kidnapping of the bride was also an ancient Greek custom, which is why Hades kidnapped Persephone when Demeter wasn't looking.

Marriage was also a defining feature of a girl turning into a women so most brides were married by the time they were 14 though some we're younger while others were a bit older depending on the law and political arrangements: (Source Link)

So if Hades went through the proper channels to marry her, then why is it so empowering?

Even though Hades and Zeus followed tradition to pass Persephone from the realm of the living to the realm of the dead without telling Demeter, Demeter broke customs because of the love she had for her young daughter. She was supposed to quietly accept Persephone's fate especially since the most powerful gods among the Olympians were the three kings so who was she to fight two out of the three kings?

Demeter understood her predicament but when Zeus told her there was nothing she could do about it. She did just that. She stopped and did NOTHING.

She stopped cultivating the earth, she stopped making things grow, she stopped feeding the humans and the animals used for sacrifices and soon everything and everyone started dying.

Hades had an unexpected influx of the dead all repeating Demeter's message of longing to see her daughter and Zeus started getting harassed by gods who panicked about their worshippers dying, losing more worshippers who thought this was their fault and losing sacrifices. Both gods were being pressured to give in to Demeter's demands.

The hymn to Demeter was so impactful it became a secret cult: Not only did she win the ability to see her daughter for part of the year but Demeter's love for Persephone became so legendary that it kick-started the Eleusinian Mysteries (LINK) which also established the Elysian Fields since it was believed that heroes who had proven their worth and those initiated into the mysteries would be granted access in the afterlife (this is often described to be the closest place to an Abrahamic heaven) : (LINK)

Prior to the kidnapping of Persephone, Hades only had one area for dead humans which is described as such a miserable place that in the Odyssey, Achilles said he would rather be a slave to the poorest man in the land of the living than be in the land of the dead: (LINK) so we can date the beginning of the Elysian Fields becoming a prominent feature of Hades after the Odyssey was written (8th century BCE).

Allowing Demeter to be the main character in her own hymn gives a voice to mothers and ancient women

so by reducing Demeter's role you reduce their voices as well. By taking away Demeter's achievements and importance you take away the struggles real women had to face.

By making Demeter seem overbearing and Persephone tired of being "trapped" by her mother you not only lose the context that Demeter had been previously raped by both Zeus and Poseidon so she feared Hades might be doing the same to her daughter but you cause a rift between the relationship of these two goddesses whose love for each other was so strong it rearranged the original map of the Underworld and caused a climate shift that now featured Fall and Winter.

Demeter's myth also explains ancient marital customs and death rites:

By making Persephone seem like a willing participant in her own marriage you are stripping the meaning of these old traditions. It was very rare for a bride to have a say in who she was marrying, that was between her future husband and her father (or whichever man was the head of the household at the time).

Persephone also represents the cruelty of sudden death taking girls who never got to marry so making her a willing participant makes her seem like she's eager to take her own life in order to get away from her mother which might be how some modern people feel about their toxic relationship with their own mothers but it strips the ancient cultural context and meaning.

By changing the role of Demeter you lose the historical context attached to the original myth. You lose the struggle these women had and cheapen the severity that comes with losing a loved one and being forced to accept that you will never see them again. By making Hades seem like an ideal husband you lose Persephone's dilemma of having to accept that she'll never see her mother again and she never even got to say goodbye. And by doing the kind of retellings that are seen today you lose the fact that in the original myth neither Persephone nor Demeter consented to this arrangement because ancient women were not allowed autonomy over their bodies or their fates so:

Demeter forcing both Zeus and Hades to return her daughter she forced them to acknowledge their autonomy and although not entirely successful she gave ancient women a fighting chance