#labyrinth constellation

[babymagi]

Koumei was next up!!

Had some trouble figuring out what to do for the background, and the chess pieces took 1 bajillion years but I think it came out okay :D

[thirtheenprimes]

Reminder: David Bowie was great and his voice fuckin slapped

[percyjackson-post]

"I could make out all the constellations Annabeth had taught me: Capricorn, Pegasus, Sagittarius.”

Let me explain why every time I get to this scene in Battle of the Labyrinth, I have to fight back tears. In the Titan’s Curse, Percy knows absolutely NOTHING about the stars, even going so far as to call Ursa Major the “bear thing." However, by the time he’s on Calypso’s island, Percy is able to identify the constellations with ease. It’s such a small scene, yet it manages to tell us so much about Percy as a character. This is a 15-year-old boy who, after losing someone he knew only for a moment, has gone out of his way to learn about something that was important to her. He's made the effort to learn about this so he can preserve her memory and know exactly where Zoe is now that she's no longer with him.

[apiswitchcraft]

altars for greek heroes

ACHILLES: hero of the Trojan war, son of nereid Thetis

Colors: gold/bronze, red for Trojan War. blue, white for his mother Thetis

Offerings: yarrow, gold/silver, shells, gull feathers, olive, laurel, gemstones

Crystals: aquamarine, sodalite, jaspers (red, yellow, ocean especially)

*to honor Achilles you must also honor Patroclus*

PATROCLUS: hero of the Trojan war, son of King Peleus

Colors: gold/bronze, red for war. purple for royal birth

Offerings: incense/fire, oil, olive, laurel, gemstones, gold/silver

Crystals: agates (moss, tree especially), amethyst, lepidolite, rose quartz, citrine

ADONIS: lover of Aphrodite, became god of rebirth and beauty

Colors: pink, purple, red for beauty and association with Aphrodite

Offerings: fast growing plants (lettuce, fennel, barley, wheat), anemone and other flowers, dead plants, cake, honey

Crystals: flower agate, rose quartz, amethyst, rutilated quartz, jaspers (specifically rainforest or other green ones)

ARIADNE: helped Theseus to defeat the Minotaur, later married Dionysus and became goddess of labyrinths

Colors: gold for noble birth. purple for association with Dionysus

Offerings: grapes, puzzle toys, spools of thread or fabric art, wine, herbal tea, saffron

Crystals: grape agate, celestite, star jasper, pyrite, amethyst, scolectite, selenite

ASCLEPIUS: god of healing, son of Apollo

Colors: yellow, white for association with Apollo. red, pink, orange for healing

Offerings: snake skin, clay/bronze humanoid figurines, cypress, pine, olive trees, medicinal herbs

Crystals: quartz, rhodonite, amethyst, fluorite, selenite, citrine

ATALANTA: one of the Argonauts, devotee of Artemis, killed the Calydonian boar

Colors: brown, green for the hunt. white, blue, grey for association with Artemis

Offerings: pork, boar hide, apples, laurel, forgeables, lion/bear imagery

Crystals: jaspers, moss/tree agate, petrified wood, amethyst, rose quartz, selenite

CASTOR AND POLLUX: Pollux was a son of Zeus who shared his immortality Castor, they were turned into the Gemini constellation, saviors of seafarers

Colors: purple for noble birth. white and grey for association with zeus. black for the night sky

Offerings: shells, laurel, olive, meat, wine, two things conjoined (like two cherries or two grapes on a vine)

Crystals: star and ocean jaspers, sodalite, aquamarine, obsidian, hematite

HERAKLES: went mad and killed his wife and kids, did 12 labors as penance, god of strength and heroes

Colors: red, gold for strength and heroes

Offerings: hellebore, olive, laurel, meat, alcohol, yarrow

Crystals: bloodstone, carnelian, garnet, red jasper, smokey quartz, pyrite

HYACINTHUS: Spartan prince and lover of Apollo, became god of vegetation

Colors: pink, yellow, green for vegetation. yellow/gold for association with apollo

Offerings: iris (they were called hyacinths by the Greeks) and other flowers, grain, yarrow, clove

Crystals: tree/moss/flower agate, jaspers (especially bumblebee), citrine, carnelian, pyrite, honey calcite, amber

ODYSSEUS: clever hero of Homer's "The Odyssey," favored by Athena

Colors: gold, purple for royal status. grey, white for wisdom

Offerings: owl feathers, shells, boat imagery, poetry/speeches, laurel, olive, cypress

Crystals: jaspers, obsidian, quartz, aquamarine, turquoise, sodalite, bloodstone

ORION: lover of Artemis, was turned into a constellation after death. Sirius is his dog and Scorpius the scorpion that slayed him

Colors: black, white for night. brown, green for the hunt

Offerings: forageables, apples, hides/leather, mugwort, cypress, moon shaped items

Crystals: star jasper, bloodstone, selenite, celestite, howlite

ORPHEUS: son of Apollo, famed musician and poet of the Argonauts, travelled to Haides to try to save his wife Eurydice

Colors: yellow, gold, white for Apollo. black for the Underworld

Offerings: music (especially lyre), poetry, hymns, honey, laurel, wine, meats

Crystals: aventurine, obsidian, black tourmaline, smokey quartz, selenite, yellow jasper, honey calcite

PERSEUS: son of Zeus, slayer of Medusa, has a constellation

Colors: gold and red for hero status. white, grey, blue for association with Zeus

Offerings: meat, laurel, snake shed, alcohol, fruit, honey, milk (to honor his mother Danae)

Crystals: jaspers (red, star especially), bloodstone, serpentine, quartz, obsidian

THESEUS: slayer of the Minotaur, united Attica, completed six trials for the entrances to the Underworld that he passed on the way to Athens

Colors: blues for ocean, being a son of Poseidon (in some stories)

Offerings: ship imagery, meat, olive, yarrow, gold

Crystals: pyrite, sodalite, lapis lazuli, coral, blue aventurine, aquamarine

[r0ugesun]

Can you write about a witch reader × aemond? Like he was lost after a battle of God eyes in the wood and then he found the reader, and then she help him with his wounds?

Thank you so much for your request. I apologize for the delay, and I appreciate your patience. I hope this meets your expectations :>

(Also shout out @moonstruksandco for helping me with this she’s my irl wife my moon and muse❤️)

Witch!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

No warnings

Synopsis: After a fierce battle above the gods eye, a wounded Aemond finds refuge with Y/N, a reclusive witch, who offers healing in exchange for something that will help guard the forest. They find solace amid the chaos of the ongoing war.

“You have lived too long uncle”

“On that much we agree.”

The battle above the God’s Eye was a clash of beasts, dragons roaring fiercely at their riders’ command. Smoke and flames thickened the air, war cries echoing across the sky like distant thunder.

Vhagar expertly maneuvered around Caraxes, their talons intertwining in a deadly dance. Though old, Vhagar's experience in combat was undeniable, but she struggled against the agile younger dragon. In a swift moment, Caraxes snapped his jaws onto Vhagar’s neck, giving Daemon the chance to leap from his saddle, Dark Sister aimed at Aemond.

But Aemond’s death did not come however, Vhagar twisted and writhed in caraxes grasp until her fire engulfed Daemon, sending him and caraxes into the depths of the lake.

The forest beyond was a twisted labyrinth, ancient trees clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The aftermath of the battle left the land charred, a silent witness to horror. Bloodied and broken, Aemond staggered through the underbrush, pain eclipsed only by the grief in his heart. His mighty dragon vhagar lay dead below the water, her sacrifice weighing heavily on him.

As darkness threatened to consume him, a soft, ethereal glow broke through the shadows. Driven by instinct, Aemond forced himself toward the light.

He stumbled into a secluded glade, where a dilapidated stone house covered in ivy stood, a beacon amid the gloom. The air was infused with the scent of incense and flowers, a sharp contrast to the stench of sulfur and burnt flesh he’d left behind. A lone figure, cloaked in black, tended to a moonlit garden. She turned, her eyes reflecting the light like constellations.

“Who goes there?” Her voice was a haunting melody stern, yet oddly soothing.

Aemond collapsed at the edge of the clearing, vision fading. “...help…me,” he gasped.

The woman crossed her arms, her expression one of clear annoyance. “The spirits always send me their messes to clean up.” she muttered under her breath.

Without a word, she stepped aside and helped him in, though her demeanor was far from welcoming. Aemond staggered into the warmth of the cottage, the scent of herbs and something unidentifiable filling his senses. The woman guided him to a wooden table, but her touch was far from gentle.

“My name is Aemond,” he managed, though his vision was blurring.

She rolled her eyes. “I know who you are, Prince Aemond. I am Y/N. Sit still and don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Aemond watched as she moved around the room, gathering supplies with quick, irritated motions. She mixed herbs with practiced ease, creating a paste that she applied to his cuts and bruises. Her touch, though skilled, was brusque, and the pain began to ebb away under her care despite her apparent displeasure.

Then darkness took him. When he awoke, he found himself in a dim room, shelves lined with mysterious vials and tomes in a language he didn’t recognize. The woman was beside him, applying a green salve. It stung at first but soon numbed his pain.

“You saved me” Aemond rasped.

Her nod was slight, her gaze steady. “Your wounds are grave, but you will not join the Stranger yet. I will heal you.”

He studied her intricate symbols etched into her tunic, her skin shimmering like silver in candlelight. “Who are you? Why are you alone in these woods?”

“I am y/n” she said, her voice edged with irritation. “I tend to the animals. They need me.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed. “You tend to the beasts of the forest? You’re not just a healer, are you? You’re a witch.”

She she looked at him sharply “That’s one name for it. I am whoever the forest needs me to be sometimes a healer, sometimes a protector. And sometimes, something more.”

His expression softened as she unfastened his tunic, revealing deep, angry wounds across his muscular torso.

“These wounds run deep. Can you truly treat them?”

“Trust me” she said, fingers hovering over his scars, her voice unwavering. “The magic flows through me, but it requires something in return.”

Taking a deep breath, he felt the weight of his decision. “Very well. Do what you must.”

Y/n’s fingers grazed his skin, warmth radiating from her touch. “Close your eyes. Breath deep.”

As he obeyed, a surge of energy enveloped him in q blend of warmth and power flowing from her into his wounds. He sensed the whispers of the forest, and for the first time, he allowed himself to believe in something beyond mere survival.

When the healing was done, she stepped back, her eyes searching his. “I need a scale from your dragon” she said, her tone more serious.

His eye snapped open, suspicion and curiosity mingling. “For what purpose?”

“There’s an ancient spell I need to complete” she explained. “One that requires the essence of a dragon. With it, I can enhance my powers and protect this land from the dark forces encroaching upon it.”

He hesitated, the pain of his dragon’s loss still raw. “Vhagar lays at the bottom of the lake, I fear I won’t be able to reach her.”

"Not a problem, I can brew a potion that will grant you the breath of the sea, allowing you to reach her without pause." she replied. “Will you do it?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he nodded, the weight of her request heavy on his heart. “I will……I thank you for your help.”

“Come” she said, she gathered her ingredients with practiced grace. the air thick with the scent of herbs and salt Wisps of smoke curled from a small cauldron as she kindled the flame beneath it, the fire dancing in rhythm with her murmured incantations.

She crushed silvery seaweed between her fingers, releasing a shimmer of iridescent essence, and added it to the bubbling brew. Next, she sprinkled in powdered pearls, their luminescence casting a soft glow around the room. As she stirred with a carved wooden ladle, the liquid transformed into a deep azure, swirling like the depths of the lake.

With a final flourish, she dropped in a glimmering shard of moonstone, causing the potion to shimmer and pulse with an ethereal light. “Drink this by the lake, and you shall breathe as easily as the currents flow”

As he left her hut, determination and sorrow fueled his steps. The scale of his recently fallen dragon, an ancient spell, and a witch’s power, this journey was far from over.

With a steady hand, Aemond raised the shimmering potion to his lips, the cool liquid gliding down his throat like a gentle wave. Instantly, a rush of warmth enveloped him, filling his lungs with a strange, invigorating energy.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped toward the water’s edge, the moonlight reflecting off the surface like scattered diamonds. He plunged into the lake, the cool water wrapping around him like a cloak. As he descended, he felt the potion working, granting him the ability to hold his breath as he swam deeper, propelled by determination and the promise of what awaited him below.

As Aemond descended further into the lake’s depths, the water grew darker, illuminated only by the faint glimmer of bioluminescent creatures. Suddenly, he spotted Vhagar, her massive form resting peacefully on the silty bottom, surrounded by a tranquil stillness. Beside her lay his uncle, the visage of his former glory entwined with the majestic shape of Caraxes, their bond transcending even death.

A heavy heart weighed on Aemond as he approached, the sight of Vhagar once a fierce and fearsome beast now appearing serene in eternal slumber. He felt a bittersweet pang of longing, knowing the dragon had once soared the skies with him.

With a quiet determination, he swam closer, carefully reaching out to take a few scales from Vhagar’s side, each one a testament to their shared history. As his fingers brushed against her scales, a profound sense of reverence washed over him, mingling with grief and the echoes of lost love.

Hours later, Aemond returned, a scale from Vhagar in his hand. The witch y/n took it reverently, her eyes softening. “This will do,” she murmured.

Together, they ventured into the heart of the forest, where Y/n began her incantations. The air thickened with magic as she worked, the scale glowing with an otherworldly light. Aemond watched, his heart heavy yet hopeful.

As the spell reached its climax, the forest seemed to come alive. The trees swayed as if in reverence, and a deep, echoing roar filled the air. Vhagar’s spirit emerged, majestic and powerful, her essence blending with the forest. She became its guardian, a spectral presence that would protect the land.

Aemond felt a profound sense of peace. Vhagar was gone, but her spirit lived on, safeguarding the forest. He turned to y/n, gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you” he said softly.

She looked up at him, her stern expression softening. “Vhagars sacrifice will not be forgotten. This land is safe now, thanks to both of you.”

Days turned into weeks as Aemond recovered under Y/N’s care. Her initial annoyance with him faded, replaced by a grudging respect and something more tender. They spoke of many things of dragons and magic, of loss and hope. Aemond found himself drawn to her strength and independence, while she began to see the depth of his pain and the vulnerability beneath his warrior exterior.

One evening, as they sat by the fire, Aemond reached for her hand. “You’ve done so much for me… I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

She met his gaze, her eyes soft but still guarded. “You owe me nothing. I did this for the forest….And perhaps, for you as well.”

He leaned closer, his voice a whisper. “Y/N, I’ve come to care for you deeply. More than I ever thought possible.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. “Aemond…our lives are so different. I am bound to my duty to the forest, to its magic. And you… you are a prince, with duties the war isn’t over”

“There’s nothing left for me there” he said, his hand gently cupping her face. “What matters to me is here, with you.”

Y/N closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. The fire crackled softly beside them, mirroring the flame igniting their love. “Then stay” she whispered. “With me.”

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, the spirits of the forest their only witnesses to their new bond. Despite the chaos of the world outside, they found each other, a love as fierce and enduring as the magic that surrounded them.

For the first time in a long time, Aemond felt truly happy.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

CLOSEST I’VE COME TO MY HEART EXPLODING

izuku x reader

thoughts on how he would act in a relationship <3 same premise as the shinso + kirishima ver, for his birthday!

a/n: i love ttpd

a/n: izuku midoriya as a boyfriend is my roman empire

izuku midoriya, who looks at you like you’re his whole world. he is physically incapable of finding you unattractive. your dreary, disheveled hair mornings are a sunny, natural glow to him. your sweaty and spent post-workout stance has him on his knees. he thinks your beautiful on every day that ends Y. he could be blind and he’d memorize your beauty through his fingertips, or deaf and appreciative the universe for gifting his eyes with you.

izuku midoriya, who falls in love hard. who falls first and falls harder. who falls like a shooting star on a bright morning. he’s so in love with you its embarrassing, so much so that after a while he doesn’t seem to care if you like him back or not- just having these feelings is enough for him. who needs you to know just how much he cares, just how devoted he is to you.

izuku midoriya, whose love language is acts of service. he loves to take care of you in sickness and in health, when you’re tired or even when you just don’t want to get up. who always practices the sidewalk rule, who zips up all your dresses, who will never ever let you touch the dirty dishes, who picks you up from the airport, who RUNS to the car do to open it for you, and who uses his actions when words fail him.

izuku midoriya, who isn’t fully aware of how beautiful he is. his green eyes like the garden of eden, freckles like little kisses from the sun just for him. he blinks and tilts his head like a dog when you compliment him on his appearance, trying to ignore the way his heart pounds and his cheeks blush bright pink. he doesn’t understand how he pulled you, but you most certainly get it.

speaking of his freckles… izuku midoriya, who lets you draw little constellations on his freckles. he is a moonchild himself, someone who is deeply emotional and experiences changes like the moon changes its phases. who has always loved the stars, loved the night sky, and loves thanking the heavens above for gifting you to him. he loved the tickle he feels on his skin when you connect the dots, pointing our lyra and hydrus as you tell him all about your favourites. he loves it, loves knowing he’s your favourite canvas.

izuku midoriya, who is more insecure then he lets on. who hates the way his arms look, the scars that remind him of his failures and his shortcomings. the weight of being the next symbol of peace, the expectation of being everything his predecessor was and more- sometimes its all too much. he’ll never show it, but there are signs. his nail biting, his messy notes on paper, his rambling to himself and his sleepless nights. only you can snap him out of the messy labyrinth he loses himself in. you’re that beacon of light that helps him resurface, giving his heart a holiday.

izuku midoriya, who loves you so much warmer and so much brighter than any love you could ever hope to experience. who is hopelessly devoted to you, giving you everything he is and more. whose love for you is a need like water, who makes sure that you are always loved so long as he exists. who makes your heart feel like it’ll explode when he tells you he loves you. whose own heart feels the same when you say it back.

[brandileigh2003]

Coffee shop or bakery fic recs. Let me know what I missed including self recs

please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know.

-Like Real People Do by @third_crow ft disability and raising Harry

-Au Pif by sreka, @yumenouveau @smodernlife pining, fluff misunderstandings

-Blue Moon Café by @lazuli-moon ft raising teddy, chronic pain/illness, non-binary Sirius

-Found Heaven by @madefortherain University texting

-what a wonder (what a waste) by peachyybabe @lavenderhaze mcd magical au ft raising teddy

-Half Moon Chocolate by @brujabanter magical au no voldy

-The Barista, the Burglar, and the Sofa by orphan_account fluff au

-Number Neighbours by @moonsblack texting fic

-Be silent like deep water by @her-smile-forges-galaxies ft deaf remus

-The Barista by ever3tt au with pining

-Leather and Cinnamon by @tracingpatternswrites raising teddy modem au

-Of Caffeine Addictions and Nail Polish by @blueAzalea ft raising teddy and moonflower friendship

-Bean Genie by bethanlovescoffee fluffy au

-Love by the Seaside by viwrites @just--vi ft fluff and chronic

-i want to build something permanent by rekindled University ft trans remus

-Fractured Skies by orphan_account ft deaf Sirius and epileptic remus

-Blends by rvltn909 pining and banter

-Best Friend's Brother by bizarrestars @starsworth love the moonwater friendship, fluff with some angst

-Tip Jar by @starling011 ft chronic illness and moonflower friendship

-labyrinth by moonymoment @mayescapade exes to lovers

-I'll paint a mural of your smile by irlhawke ft mental health, trans remus

-Finding Warmth by Moony @adashofinspiratio blind Sirius and deaf remus

-Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys by Hell_Again trans remus, disability and mental health

-Tartan Books & Longing Looks by Lia @liaskisses cute with banter

Not sure if it technically counts but I like it and they spend time together there --ten reasons (to go to michigan) by @greyeyedmonster-18

Have 2 bonus flower shops:

-The Language of Flowers by B1ackCatChatsBack ft disability and pining

-my jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword by @littleoldrachel ft disability and trans Remus, they're so cute

Recs from others:

early morning, coffee cups by alarainai bakery

-Constellations and Coffee by AisForAlex

-The Web by @lesmardisbleus mcd

-Back to September by @WriterwithaWindow

-oat milk latte by @vinylsonthewall

-Sorry I'm Late - I Was Searching For You by @euripidestrousers

--rec from @missmoonfrost

-Spilling Coffee on Strangers by fictional_simp09

[luvtak]

corona borealis, lfx

✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.

✧ w/c 952 <3

✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!

His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters. 

Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky. 

His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him. 

Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away. 

Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy. 

He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there. 

“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own. 

“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,” 

“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story. 

“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”

Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking. 

His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime. 

Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity, 

“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.” 

His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being. 

Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.” 

When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper. 

The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch. 

“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy. 

© LUVTAK 2024

[orphiclovers]

I do think it's an interesting choice to never name 41st regressions Shin Yoosung as an Outer God, even though she 100% is. But the narration never once draws attention to it, leaving you to figure it out on your own:

Outer Gods are discarded incarnations and constellations from other regression turns = She's from another regression turn

The dokeabis offered the outer gods participation in the story but exploited them as calamities instead = She's a calamity

The outer gods are called slaves of the scenario = she is called slave of the scenario

The outer gods drift in between the world-lines for thousands of years = she drifed for in the 'labyrinth between worlds' for a thousand years

There's only one way to retain your human form and memories while doing that and that's having a specific goal so strong and so inherent to your being that you make that the whole foundation of your crumbling identity = For her it was 'captain told me to get informating back to the second regression'

And even in the epilogue when the outer god kings rescue Yoo Joonghyuk he passes out with them and when he wakes up he's with 41st regressions Shin Yoosung. so the other outer god kings clearly know her.

And maybe there's other stuff in the side story too lmk. but yeah outer good biyoo is just. true imo not even a theory really

[musamora]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖈𝖍𝖔 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 「𝔣𝔶𝔬𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔶」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. implied breaking-and-entering, fireworks, metaphors about stars, soft!fyodor, he's secretly down-bad, he's also incredibly possessive. descriptions of moscow (red square, st. basil's cathedral), mentions of eastern european food (pirozhki), references to greek mythology (perseus and andromeda), jokes about greek incest. not proofread. 2.2k+ words.

author's note. starting the last of my fics for the year with the first bungou stray dogs character i've ever written for. thank you for such a lovely year! ࿐ ♡ ˚ .

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

synopsis. within the last minutes of the year, sitting underneath the stars, two lovers discuss the stories mapped within constellations. in themselves, they find that some tales are timeless.

"It's so lovely at this time of night."

You couldn't contain your astonishment as flurries coasted to the earth in silent swells, dusting the city in a sheen of sparkling white. With an outstretched hand, you gathered flakes into your palm, admiring them before they melted with the heat of your skin. The riverside stilled as you coasted along the sidewalk, frozen in thickening ice as parents ushered their children away from its tempting surface. Tourists clustered under trees, shivering in their thin hats and coats as they underestimated the spite of Russia's wind. But despite the chill, there was an unmistakable gaiety in the air, smiles strewn on glassy faces as they awaited the new year.

You tailed behind Fyodor as he sauntered forward with broad steps, unable to catch your breath as the basket of freshly baked pirozhki settled heavily in your stomach. Your eyelids threatened to close as exhaustion crept into the corners of your vision; journeying between museums, promenading through parks, and scowering various foods had taken a toll on your energy.

You groaned. "Do we have to go tonight?"

He merely chuckled, the velvety bass of his voice tracing goosebumps down your spine, easily distracting you from the fact that he hadn't answered your question. Your field of vision spiraled into a haze, thoughts shot far in the distance despite the frost attempting to rouse you, left unaware as an assured hand ushered you inside a concealed entrance to the luminous structure slumbering outside of Moscow's main square. You walked forward into the endless darkness, only to bump into something sturdy. Your fingers carded through the puffed fur of Fyodor's coat, tugging on its ends.

"Fyodor?"

With a click, the room was brought to life. The high-vaulted ceiling outstretched to reach the heavens above, walls embellished with intricate frescoes of ancient Abrahamic tales. Flares of resplendent color danced across the floor as moonlight met glass, casting waves of softened light upon your skin. A labyrinth of winding corridors hid in the shadows, prompting any curious wanderer into a trove of antediluvian alcoves and chapels.

Your jaw dropped, gawking at every deliberate component. "What is this place?"

"It was a cathedral erected in honor of Tsar Ivan the IV." His gloved hand puckered altar cloth between his gracile fingers, tracing the embroidery as his mind drifted elsewhere.

You hummed, racking your brain as it itched in anamnesis. "Wasn't that the terrible one?"

He was silent as he released the fabric from his fingers, but the self-satisfied smirk told you everything you needed to know. "Indeed. This place once brimmed with life, hosting religious gatherings and services for the denizens of this city." His boots snicked against the tile, the noise reverberating as it spun towards the ceiling. "It has been left as a relic of time."

You ever-so-delicately brushed your hand against one of the columns, not wishing to disturb the peace of stillness and rest that blanketed the cathedral.

"How marvelous."

Your attention went astray as Fyodor tinkered at a lock, the hinges of a thin door ricketing with unsettling squeaks as he stood aside, uncloaking a never-ending staircase to the unknown.

"After you."

Your muscles cramped with every step, dread buried deep in your gut as your vision remained impaired, the flashlight beam smattering inconclusive rays of light as it aimed at your back. It was almost like the architects had attempted to reach the clouds, their grandiose endeavor churning a flare in your back as you slumped against the wall, your lungs burning with every passing moment. Your spirit was invigorated at the sight of a door through the dime ire of light, basking in your relief as you stepped out the door, the crisp breeze of winter striking your skin as—!

"W-Woah!"

Your feet teetered over the ridge of the roof; only your ankles remained flimsily rooted onto solid paneling as your arms swung out to balance yourself. Fortunately for you, an arm wrapped around your waist, drawing you back against Fyodor's chest. A quick peek upward towards his impish expression revealed everything you needed to know.

"You must be careful, любимая."

Your breath was shuddery, inwardly wavering on whether to punch him or kiss him, the indecisiveness reigning victorious as you pointedly ignored the mellifluous lilt of his tone, hands binding to his arm as your gaze locked onto the ground several hundred feet below.

"Good lord, we're high," you muttered between pants.

His arms braced you further against his chest, leaning away from the perilous drop. "You're trembling." The tension in your grip eased at the sensation of a gentle kiss against the crown of your head. "You know I'd never let you fall, hm?"

"Right." You released the amalgam of tense breath that clawed at your throat, able to balance on your own two feet as you settled your view to the skies.

Your feet shuffled across the panels as you slogged onto a wider expanse of the roof, slumping against a wall as the tension evaporated out through your fingers, the nightmare of plummeting from the roof erased from your mind. However, you swallowed a yelp as the flashlight flickered off, leaving the both of you enshrouded in complete darkness—at least for a brief moment.

Clouds stacked in bunched within the stratosphere, mirroring fragments of light that bounced from below in a nebulose aurora. But despite the wonderment of their decadence, they lost their luster once the stars peaked through their fogged edges, the finite speckles scattered like freckles across the canvas of the heavens. They felt close enough to touch if only you reached out toward them, daring to do so. Your fingers trailed maps of these celestial bodies, finding a sense of peace in their familiar patterns.

"Are you familiar with Ovid's Metamorphoses?" Your voice pierced through the silence.

"I can't say I am."

You withheld the impulse to laugh—he had the entire compendium of books in his personal library. It would be a surprise if he hadn't at least skimmed them, but you decided to humor him this once, scooching closer to point towards a specific cluster of stars.

"Those are the constellations of Perseus, the son of Zeus, and Princess Andromeda, the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia."

You took his silence as an encouragement to continue. "Perseus found Andromeda chained to a rock as a sacrifice to the sea monster, Cetus, by her parents in order to save her home." Your fingers drew out the character within the stars, a grin upturned on your lips as you envisioned the archaic tale in your mind. "It was told that he found her so beautiful that he slayed the monster, rescuing her before fighting against her uncle for her hand-in-marriage."

"Her uncle?" Fyodor mused.

Your nose scrunched in a grimace. "There's a lot of that in those stories, I'm afraid."

"The couple went on to live happily ever after—an extremely rare ending to most ancient stories."

"There is a simple explanation for that," he replied.

You snickered, already aware that your open-ended commentary would eventually lead to some thoughts from the infamously brilliant man.

His eyes rolled in return at your amusement, disregarding the tightness of his chest. "We hold onto ancient tragedies because they are a reflection of life. Nothing in our world is as simple as a happy ending." A vacant look ruled over his features, a familiar expression that often shielded his thoughts within the dark, contemplative hours of the night. "Most aspired heroes never reach their potential due to their blind devotion to selfish aspirations and goals."

"You're right," you sighed, hands balled against the corner of his cape in an attempt to thaw your frozen fingers. You wanted to say more, but it felt like your mouth was cotton-filled. So, instead, you returned your eyes to the sky.

"Sometimes, I wish I was a constellation." He looked at you. "Even with its flaws, this world is undoubtedly beautiful from above. I like to think the stars admire us just as much as we do them."

And he didn't say anything more; he didn't need to. Instead, he reigned you onto his lap, his coat shrouding your shoulders as he shared its warmth. You leaned into his embrace, basking in the flutter inside your chest.

"You're awfully cold, милая," he grumbled, his fingers mapping your frigid palms.

"Our roles are reversed now," you quipped. "I hope you think about this the next time you decide to stun me with your hands in the morning."

"I'm afraid I might forget," he whistled.

"You little—"

But you found your voice hidden underneath layers of crackling. You ogled as fireworks wiggled their way into the night sky, shimmering onto the city square, the towers of the Kremlin becomen heavenly statues as their structures temporarily glistened. Without a second thought, you grabbed onto his hands, giving them a squeeze with each pop. You were so attentive to the collections of radiant sparks that you didn't notice the eyes boring into your skin; Fyodor's gaze averted from the fireworks to contemplate the interlacement of your fingers.

He surmised you were to be his future the moment you had locked eyes for the first time—his destined, pre-ordained other half as he journeyed to actualize God's promised land. It wasn't a surprise that someone was fated to remain in his keep—another loyal follower, too intertwined in their own aspirations to connect to his cause without deliberate guidance.

But not you. 

You may not have supported his cause with the devotion of his witless flock, but you understood it better than anyone. And most importantly, you understood him. You peered through his intricate plans and performative malice, reading into his cause as you unraveled his intentions. It had been an enticing cat-and-mouse game, the both of you constantly entangled in a mental match, intellect and morals clashing. He knew you were his perfect match from your analytic dexterity, but he had no idea that you would pull at the strings cast around his heart, ones he believed had been severed long ago.

His heart had never belonged to anyone or anything—his mind and will were forever devoted to his cause, but his heart hadn't beat since before he could even remember. The sudden constriction of his chest was so foreign.

You must've been quite the powerful woman to kickstart the heart of a demon, excavating a trove of humanity he had buried within himself with a simple glance of your eyes—and all without knowing, your gentle expression puncturing through his abstruse masquerades, somehow able to see everything except the turmoil that you left in the wake of your very touch.

He found himself less and less concerned about the echoed beat of his heart within the emptiness of his chest, too captivated by your smile as you beheld the heavens with a benevolent expression, savoring the burning red and gold sparks despite their dullness in comparison to you. In spite of himself, your everlasting happiness had become an intrinsic component in his plans.

You were made to remain at his side—not as a brainless devotee, but as his equal and often opposite. The world, so rotten yet somehow divine through your benevolent gaze, may try to pull you away, but he'd have no issue burning cities to their ashen roots if anyone dared attempt to pry you from his hold.

His lithe fingers outlined the constellations of every freckle and beauty mark, star patterns copied onto your skin as his touch drifted your attention from the flashes and flickers to him, your inquisitive eyes scanning his face as he remained unmoved.

"Федя?" 

He shuddered with unparalleled delight at the euphonious sound of his mother language slipping like honey from your tongue, foreign to your lips yet dulcet all the same. Your bonniness beaconed him forward, a heat flowering in his once cavernous chest as he captured your lips, which were as soft as the powdered snow that glinted on your skin. His heavy breath tickled your nose, which crinkled in tandem with your eyes as you drew him in for another. Words became meaningless, his skin seared like static as your arms drew him closer, skin scorched from the cold of your hands against the nape of his neck.

He tucked your hair behind your ear, ensuring that your empyreal features weren't veiled further as flakes of snow flurried once more, your parted lips and shallow breath leaving him in a helpless state of complete limerence. He stirred as his hand brushed against your pulse, your own heart racing concertly with his.

You parted in bittersweet bliss, yearning imbued in your bones as your hands drifted towards one another to intertwine. His forehead rested against yours, your shared breath permeating in spirals within the open air as he peered into your hazy, glossed-over eyes.

His hand cupped your cheek, the frame to a divine masterpiece. "Ты согреваешь мою душу, мое нежное солнышко. Твоя красота вне всякого сравнения; твой разум безупречен." He had never looked at anyone like this before, his ire thawed by the brilliance of your tender gaze as if he had melted. "Я бесконечно благодарен, что Бог привел тебя ко мне."

And you laughed. "You know I don't understand anything you're saying, right?"

He kissed your forehead, concealing his smile as his lips pressed against your skin. "You will one day, солнышко. You will."

любимая = darling милая = dear федя = fedya ты согреваешь мою душу, мое нежное солнышко. твоя красота вне всякого сравнения; твой разум безупречен = you warm my soul, my gentle sun. your beauty is beyond comparison; your mind is beyond flaw. я бесконечно благодарен, что бог привел тебя ко мне = i am eternally grateful that god brought you to me. солнышко = sunshine

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @justanotherjester @kotysluny @aureatchi

© MUSAMORA 2023 — do not repost or modify my works for any reason. do not steal graphics w/o explicit permission. reblogs are appreciated.

[trashcanlore]

A Crack Theory About Maze

Alternatively: Everyone in Natlan is dead and I can prove it with 3 easy tools I already have in my brain

*Record scratch* I bet you're wondering how we got here. Well, it all started when I was playing through Simulanka and saw the carpet on the floor of Constellation Metropole. The pattern reminded me of player piano scrolls, and since my brain needs to be studied in a lab, that then reminded me of Westworld. (Slight spoilers for season 1 follow)

Westworld is a sci-fi-ish TV show about a futuristic amusement park recreating the Wild West, featuring interactive storylines where guests can act out their hearts' darkest desires. The only ‘people’ hurt are the hosts, who are basically the android NPCs of the park. Hosts are part of greater park narratives, and individually operate within their story loops, unless disturbed by the outside forces of guests. At the end of each day, the hosts are reset/memory wiped/repaired (unless the narrative says differently) and return to experience the horrors anew. The player piano is used as a visual and narrative motif throughout Westworld to represent the cyclical and automated lives of the hosts; similarly, the clockwork in Constellation Metropole represents the strictly laid out paths of the toys while under the ‘protection’ of the Goddess of Prophecy. 

Convinced this carpet pattern was an intentional reference, and knowing that summer events foreshadow the new region, I flung myself headfirst into themes and narratives delulu (a season 1 rewatch) and during that rewatch I realized that a different Westworld plot point and visual motif might be what's actually foreshadowing for my mostly vibes-based theory: Everyone in Natlan is dead.

THE MAZE

The imagery of a humanoid figure in a maze is used throughout Westworld, explained within the narrative of the park as a Native American myth. According to the in-park mythology, the maze represents “the sum of a man’s life,” and the man in the center has been killed and resurrected many times, eventually building the maze around himself as protection. (Resurrection is a very common theme in Indigenous American mythology.) There is a human character who is trying to solve the maze, and for a time he believes the center of the maze is true death, something that does not exist in the park because the guests cannot be killed (by the hosts) and the hosts can always be repaired.

This myth is based on the real life creation myth of the Tohono O'odham people, where the Man in the Maze, I’itoi, created the world in an intense struggle and then retired to a labyrinthian cave on top of a mountain. In art, I’itoi is depicted above a maze, which represents the experiences and choices of a person throughout their lives. The middle of the maze represents their goals and dreams, and once they reach the center, they can look back and then pass into the next world.

According to some tellings of the myth, I’itoi was killed by the humans he created and taught. He then resurrected himself, invented the concept of war, and then brought the Tohono O’odham people to the surface of the earth to be his soldiers. 

Fun fact: This creation story is actually referenced in ZZZ, with the Papago hollow (Papago is an alternate name for the Tohono O’odham people).

In Westworld, the maze is actually a thought exercise and model developed by the programmer behind the park hosts. His theory of consciousness was that it was achieved through a journey inward, and when a host reached the center of the maze, they would achieve true consciousness and be ‘free.’ 

Maze iconography in the Americas is not unique to the Tohono O'odham people - another notable example is the Hopi Tapuat. This labyrinth (technically only has one path) represents the human life cycle and eventual (spiritual) rebirth.

While researching maze symbolism, I read a few articles that mentioned Mesoamerican mazes being used to trap the spirits of the dead, but unfortunately, I couldn't find any specific source for that information. However, it is possible to connect maze imagery to the Aztec and Mayan beliefs about the Underworld. Multiple archaeological excavations have uncovered huge networks of caves, tunnels, and rooms underground that may have been built to represent the journey to the underworld and/or provide a location for rituals associated with death. (You can read more about this here: 1 2 3)

As for the underworld itself, both the Aztec Mictlan and the Maya Xibalba are described as containing all kinds of traps and challenges for the dead passing through - and can’t forget the ballcourt (in Xibalba at least). Ball is life. While this isn’t exactly a maze, I will argue that for the sake of this crack theory, it’s close enough thematically. 

Smoke and Mirrors

You may have recognized the name Mictlan, because in Genshin, that’s one of the names for the Masters of the Night-Wind tribe, which can be alternatively translated as “Masters of the Mysterious Smoke.” This will be relevant later, I promise. 

The Natlan craftable sword, the Flute of Ezpitzal, is described as being a ritual instrument of this tribe, and the description tells the story of how humans and dragons came to a (local?) agreement to ensure their survival. The dragons had fled into dreams because of the fire of “ancient beacons,” and when the humans asked for their protection, they offered the following: 

"A labyrinth of mirrors and a fortress of mist, these shall we build to shield your tiny mortal tribes from the scourge of war." 

The theme continues with the name of the sword’s passive: “smoke-and-mirror mystery,” and the upcoming Archon Quest “Beyond the Smoke and Mirrors.” The phrase “smoke and mirrors” is an idiom for distracting from something unpleasant, but in the context of Natlan lore, it’s almost certainly referring to the smoking obsidian mirror iconography. 

Mirrors of all kinds were used throughout ancient Mesoamerica for divination and scrying-like rituals, including communication with otherworld entities. The most well known mirror material used was obsidian, which was also used for blades and tools - the black color of obsidian is probably what led to its association with smoke (also you can use mirrors to start fires). Obsidian mirrors were associated with additional imagery such as fire, the sun, eyes, butterflies, and caves as the entrance to the underworld. Mirrors were also compared to the surface of still water (a straightforward comparison) - one interesting example is Aztec writing that referred to Aztlan (mythical origin of Aztec people) as ‘the great water mirror that surrounds the great city.’ There was even a period of time where the mirror was used as a metaphor to represent the world itself. 

This is similar to what Mona says about Simulanka: fate in Simulanka is directly based on Teyvat’s, and that “the creator made this world inside a mirror, or a lake, and this world is the reflection.” 

Here’s where things start to get interesting: there is a Nahuatl glyph for the smoking obsidian mirror, specifically associated with a god who we’ll discuss later. The scroll-like shape used for the smoke is very similar to the symbol used for speech, singing, or breath.

This shape is also very similar to the older Mayan glyph for smoke - which happens to be basically identical to the symbol used for blood. You can see an example here in this famous carving from Yaxchilan:

The link between smoke and blood is actually explicitly referenced in the name of the Flute of Ezpitzal. Ezpitzal is a Nahuatl word meaning ‘gust of blood’ - eztli is blood and pitza is ‘to blow,’ as in playing a flute. Pitza is also sometimes translated “becoming inflamed with anger.” The ezpitzal symbol is made up of six streams of blood, ending in a precious stone, with a heart in the center:

The ezpitzal can be found flowing from the head of older depictions of Tezcatlipoca “smoking mirror,” the Lord of the Night. 

The Lord of the Night

Tezcatlipoca is one of the central Aztec gods, associated with the night sky, hurricanes, and conflict, and the calendar. He was typically depicted with a missing foot due to a monster attack and a smoking obsidian mirror somewhere on his body. The missing right foot is usually replaced with a smoking obsidian mirror, a snake, or a bone. Tezcatlipoca has similarities to the earlier Maya deities Tohil (god of fire and associated with sacrifice) and K’awiil (thunder god), who is depicted with a smoking obsidian knife in his forehead and one leg replaced with a snake. 

The smoking mirror glyph associated with Tezcatlipoca looks a little bit like the obsidian carvings in the Night Kingdom:

Besides for the title of Lord of the Night, Tezcatlipoca is Genshin lore relevant as the rival of Quetzalcoatl. In one version of the Five Suns Aztec creation myth, Tezcatlipoca and Quetzalcoatl are creation gods and take turns being suns and destroying each other’s work. Quetzalcoatl hasn’t been mentioned by name in Natlan yet, but his Maya equivalent, Kukulkan (“Plumed Serpent”), also known as Waxaklahun Ubah Kan (“War Serpent”) sure has. In Genshin, Waxaklahun Ubah Kan, or the Sage of the Stolen Flame, stole a seed of phlogiston from the dragons and taught the humans how to use it. He is shown alongside Xbalanque, the first Pyro Archon, on a mural, where they both appear to hold phlogiston. There’s something important missing here: How did the Genshin equivalent of Tezcatlipoca contribute to the ‘creation’ of humans?

In the 5.1 trailer, the Lord of the Night and the “protection of the rules” are mentioned. The only information we have about the Lord of the Night is that in the misleading Records of Hanan Pacha, he leads humans astray and is the enemy of Waxaklahun Ubah Kan, and that a cat in the Night Kingdom warns us against trusting the Sage.

The set of rules we know the most about are the ones created by Xbalanque, using borrowed power from the heavens (Ronova). These are the rules that allow humans to become Archons and inherit the memories of the land. 

The other, more mysterious set of rules, are those that allow Ancient Name bearers to resurrect through the Sacred Flame with the help of the Archon. The Sacred Flame is a conduit to the Night Kingdom and the Wayobs, and is fueled by Contending Fire produced by battles between Natlan people. Given that Tezcatlipoca is a god of conflict, I think these rules mentioned in the trailer are referring to the Sacred Flame system of resurrection. 

Therefore, at some point during Natlan’s history, the beef between the Sage and the Lord of the Night became so severe that the Lord of the Night’s contribution to the system of Natlan was intentionally covered up- which may be what Capitano is hinting at in the 5.1 trailer when he says Mavuika is withholding information from us. 

This was a bit of a tangent, but I promise it’s relevant to the thesis. At the conclusion of the Five Suns myth, Quetzalcoatl descends into Mictlan to find the bones of the humans he created under earlier suns, and who were destroyed by various god antics, including those of Tezcatlipoca. He then uses his own blood to bring the humans back to life. Maybe my insistence that everyone in Natlan is dead isn’t so vibe based after all. 

The Center 

It is time for me to confess something. In actuality, these 2k words were elaborate setup for a pun. 

Here it goes: At the conclusion of the K’iche’ Maya creation story, the Popul Vuh, the gods finally find the perfect material for creating humans who will worship them: maize. The hurricane god and the Quetzal serpent sculpt the first humans out of a maize paste, with water for blood. Conveniently, these two can be directly compared to Quetzalcoatl and Tezcatlipoca - further supporting the possibility of the latter’s important role in Natlan’s history. 

Earlier, I mentioned how water and mirrors were closely associated, and how the glyphs for blood and smoke look similar. The Flute of Ezpitzal name and lore reference the protection of humans with a ‘labyrinth of mirrors,’ smoking mirrors (weapon passive), and blood through the word ezpitzal. The ezpitzal is also closely linked to Tezcatlipoca, one of the Aztec creator deities. Using this symbolism, the smoke and mirrors represent the water, or blood, used to (re)create humans. Which then means of course that the second ingredient needed for humans is maze - I’m sorry, maize. 

And if the humans are made out of maze…well then they must be dead. 

Sabre’s Fun Fact Science Corner (with bonus Latam literature section just for Schwan):

The Genshin writers love the story of the Hero Twins defeating Seven Macaw and replacing his teeth with maize - they’ve referenced it at least three times so far. The weirdest is the flipped version where the human priest Maghan sacrifices himself and combines his blood with animal teeth and dirt to create grainfruit (maize). Autosacrifice of blood in particular was a very important Maya ritual. I appreciate their commitment to keeping the maize cannibalism implications going.  

The Narzissenkreuz Ordo associated lore has had multiple references to circular ruins and mirrors (which may simply just be the Alice in Wonderland reference) - however, we do know that one Ordo member went to Natlan looking for Something. “The Circular Ruins” is a short story by Jorge Luis Borges where a man tries to create another man through dreaming, with the help of a deity known as “Fire.” The story itself references Through the Looking-Glass as well. 

This one is full credit to Schwan but there’s a Mexican novel Pedro Páramo, which was very influential on other Latin American writers like Gabriel García Márquez. The plot is basically that this guy travels to the town where his father is from to meet him and then it turns out that everyone in the town is dead. It’s very core. 

It turns out Westworld season 1 is extremely HYV core - I just know some guy there saw the last episode and had their brain rewired, much like Dawei seeing Misato Evangelion for the first time

References: https://www.library.pima.gov/content/man-in-the-maze/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I%27itoi https://westworld.fandom.com/wiki/The_Maze

[overly-dramatic-artist]

oooooh I'm eyeing the labyrinth au, especially Goblin King Eclipse he's gorgeous 👀 I'm curious about a previous post saying how 'Sarah'/YN can revisit the labyrinth as an adult via dreams. How would Eclipse react to these visits?

Ahhh! Thank you for saying so!

So, yes, y/n is able to eventually revisit the world of the labyrinth as an adult in their dreams. I said in a previous ask that Goblin King Eclipse has a tower of his castle dedicated to the magic orbs, some of which contain dreams and other worlds. It is through these portals that you/n is able to come back to the kingdom. I’m making up the rules of magic as I go, but to make it simple, it is a matter of them both being in the right place at the right time so-to-speak. He is once again lost filtering through different realities, and ends up peeking into y/n’s dreamscape, accidentally leaving a rip in the reality that y/n finds in their sleep. Through this rip, they fall through the stars, into a pool of constellations that leads them to the opening into Eclipse’s world.

For y/n, it has only been a handful of years since the first time, but for Eclipse and the other inhabitants of the kingdom, it’s been over a decade of misery and decaying lands. When they eventually find their way to Eclipse, he is convinced he is stuck in a dream. It’s happened before, and it had caused nothing but an unending ache in his heart. It takes several hours of the Goblin King trying to convince himself to wake up, to pull his head out of the dreaming pool, because he cannot bear to get his hopes up again, for him to realize that y/n is in fact here, right in front of him. And so grown up and brave and resilient.

There is a weird time dilation between their two worlds, each day that passes in y/n’s world is equivalent to a little over a month in Eclipse’s. So while they may feel that they see him a few times a week in their dreams, for him, he is waiting and waiting and waiting to see his love.

[writelikeurruninoutoftime]

random riordanverse head canons

Rachel and Will are besties and love making fun of Apollo behind his back. Will helps Rachel with her anatomy because anatomy is rough and lets her braid his hair. They have gotten matching neon highlights before.

Thalia and Rachel call Annabeth “Beth” as a nickname

At one point Reyna asks how Rachel took out a titan with a hairbrush, queue Rachel and Percy telling her about the events of the battle of the labyrinth, with Grover and Annabeth occasionally interjecting to add something

Leo hosts karaoke nights in Hephaestus cabin whenever Lester visits, everyone gets really into it

Leo also always sings What Makes You Beautiful to Calypso at said karaoke nights

Meg and Lester iris message on a weekly basis

Estelle comes to camp for a couple of weeks every summer, and stays in Poseidon cabin with Percy

Zoë’s spirit watches over Percy & Co. from her constellation

The Seven + Nico, Will, Coach Hedge, Reyna, Rachel, and the entire Apollo Cabin are hard core swiftes

Sadie and Carter randomly visit Camp Half-Blood one day and Sadie starts spewing some random Egyptian VoodooTM when Leo says Egyptian magicians don’t exist, and to get back at her he pretends to be on fire and they end up becoming besties afterward.

[purpleshadow-star]

Castor and Pollux are actually so sad.

So in the riordanverse, Castor and Pollux are Dionysus’s twin sons.

In mythology, Castor and Pollux were the twin (half and full) brothers of Helen of Troy (and Clytemnestra). Zeus had turned into a swan and uhh… slept with their mother, Leda, the Queen of Sparta, who had also slept with her husband, Tyndareus, the King of Sparta, so the following quadruplets that were born had different fathers. Castor and Clytemnestra were the children of Leda and Tyndareus, and Helen and Pollux were children of Leda and Zeus. Castor and Pollux were identical twins despite having different fathers, and they were inseparable and became known as the Dioscuri.

Long story short, Castor ends up being killed and Pollux is so distraught that he asks Zeus to kill him so that he could be with his brother, or he asks Zeus to bring Castor back to life (the sources in my admittedly brief research varied between the two). In the end, Zeus agrees to split Pollux’s immortality between the two, allowing them to be together in the sky as the constellation Gemini for half of the year, and reside in the Underworld for the other half. They are the Gemini twins.

So, we already know that Rick Riordan likes to make parallels to different Greek Myths with his characters (ex: Clarisse and Silena paralleling Achilles and Patroclus), and this is another sad instance. He gave Dionysus, the son of Zeus, twin sons named Castor and Pollux, and then killed Castor in the Battle of the Labyrinth.

I just wish we got to see more of Pollux’s grief in the aftermath. We get a little bit, when right before they burn the shrouds Pollux goes up to say a few words but can't, but I kind of wish we got to see some of the heartbreaking devotion in Pollux that was in his mythological counterpart.

Anyway, Rick was really out there writing tragedy into even the background characters that had only been mentioned maybe two or three times before.

[palladiumfragments]

a void in the shape of me

there i was, with a torn nightdress at midnight / ophelia in the river, catching glimpses of an endless twilight / i let the phantoms take hold of me, poisoned my thoughts / until the truth is whichever is worse / but in the middle of it all i knew / it will be my name you'd murmur, in the dark / when your hands are in her hair / you'll look into her eyes and for some reason it vexes you / that they don't resemble a rivulet of pitch black ink / you'd graze your lips on her neck  and you'd secretly wait for the faint smell / of vanilla and mocha that will never come. 

angelic she may look now but somehow it doesn't matter / you're too tangled and anchored to me / that your skin still longs for my touch / and when the labyrinth shifts again / she will only be a stranger / and you'd recall how my fingers / used to skillfully put the pieces back in their places / enchanted the forest may look now / but somehow you couldn't get lost in it / no matter how badly you want to forget / the trail signs will only remind you of the things / you've always loved about me / every bend on the road will resemble / the street of our first apartment.

go on, suffocate the haunting with cheap liquor / but darling at the bottom of every bottle / is the aperol spritz sunset from five years ago / seventeenth of february, when we were eighteen / soon the glamor will fade and her arms around you /  will feel like a rain-soaked pillory / you'd dream of me as she sleeps next to you / you'd see me in places we frequented / and in places i never go to / a superstar will play on the radio / and you couldn't help but think of me / and when the constellations in your head / start to make sense again / it will dawn on you that they have always spelled my name. 

[the-council-above]

The area around was suddenly very different. The atmosphere changed….someone was here.

@creation-inpherno

A cathedral, a massive ethereal cathedral that also served as a large palace. It was...otherworldly.

Beautiful artwork & depictions coated the interior, alongside various many forms of enchantments & magic, lavish furniture & things from many different cultures. It was absolutely breathtaking.

This beautiful labyrinth existed on the very edge of Inphinity, where no mere mortal & most lesser gods could not reach. It was surrounded by stars & burning lights, twinking constellations & such.

There was only silence. Where was everyone?