#terrestrial blessings

[shisasan]

Signs by the road. Ph. Aleksandra Alba IG: tanzdreamer

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Love is a Many-Legged Thing

Yandere Squid Merman x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, tentacle noncon, light tentacle bondage, stalking, kidnapping, squid-based merman, big slimy prehensile merman dick, reader fucked senseless, merman fantasizes about receiving oral sex, general yandere behavior, delusional yandere, voyeurism, exhibitionism Word Count: 2k (Happy MerMay!!!! I really hope you all love the fic, would have been done weeks ago had the ac not died. But still 40min left of MerMay! I wrote this fast without a beta reader so please forgive any mistakes! The name Onyk is a reference to Onykia Ingens, a deap sea squid with an astoundingly long dick.)

Seaspark Aquarium was a very unique establishment. Not only did it contain the usual attractions that an aquarium housed, the tide pools, the sharks, a seemingly unending variety of colorful fish and corals and nudibranchs, but it also housed transient merfolk. The aquarium was situated on a flat outcrop of rocky land. Via submerged tubes it granted access to a huge tank to the ocean and merfolk below.

The tank was absolutely massive and had many different areas including a reef, a seaweed forest, a beach, and even a secluded sea cave. There were underwater cameras in most of the areas that live streamed what was happening on screens for the humans. Though the sea cave feed was restricted to adults only since the merfolk sometimes mated there.

The aquarium was just as much an exhibit for the merpeople as it was for the humans, they had underwater screens that allowed them to view the humans at play and at the food court. They enjoyed seeing and even communicating with their terrestrial cousins. There were several areas where humans and merpeople could talk face to face or via the cameras. Many of them visited quite frequently and made friendships with regular customers and their favorite staff members.

You had been blessed with landing a really good job at Seaspark Aquarium. Though it was entirely because you were the cousin of the curator of the establishment. You did janitorial tasks, including sometimes scraping the tanks, and occasionally you had to provide food for an exhibit. Even though interacting with animals or merfolk was not a common part of your job, there was one squid-man who had become quite friendly with you. Onyk.

Most of the squid type mermen shied away from human interaction, and really the aquarium as a whole, but not Onyk. He had always been a frequent visitor. A knowledgeable observer might even say it seemed that he had been hoping to find something there. The first few times he had gone had been out of pure curiosity about humans after hearing tales about them his entire life. But after his first couple of visits he was enthralled. Everything about the land walkers amazed him.

And then he met you and felt his heart flutter every single time he looked upon you. He frequently tried to engage you in conversation whenever he could and was always watching you, though often it was in secret. Onyk cherished your chats with him, he found you so interesting, even more so than he found other humans. He loved seeing you go about your tasks, it made him think of you cleaning his home as his mate while he went and got food for the two of you.

Of course if you had any say, that would never happen. Onyk, for some reason you couldn't quite place, creeped you out. No, it wasn't the head of tentacles he had in place of hair, nor the dark purple tentacles he had from the waist down, it wasn't his smile that showed off his dangerously sharp teeth, or his cyan blue eyes. No, it wasn't anything physical, just a weird energy he seemed to give off. Like a hungry animal hunting its prey.

You tried to be nice to Onyk, though you always tried to keep conversations brief and hurry on to other tasks that would take you out of his reach. Unfortunately he took your awkward stammers and clumsy rushing to zip away from him as you being extremely shy because you liked him. He sighed and stared at you longingly, head resting on his hands, as you rushed off once more. Clearly you were simply too embarrassed by your emotions to act rationally around him. Onyk had to find a way to get you to stop running off. As adorable as it was that you kept scampering off from your shyness you really needed to be closer to him.

Onyk had a brilliant, though simple, idea. It came to him right as you were in the middle of making another excuse to run away from him while the two of you were chatting in the beach area. He'd simply grab you. It wasn't the first thing he'd normally do, but you were just too prone to running off. It was more than obvious you needed him to make a firm and forceful first move.

"Well uh... it was nice seeing you again Onyk... but um... I gotta go check on the tide p-"

Onyk lunged at you suddenly with the speed and ferocity of lightning. He pulled you into the water and swiftly took you into the empty sea cave and sat you on the dry ground within. Yes, this would do perfectly for his purposes. It was a huge room that had an area for him to swim and enough space for you to run about and get exercise. This would make a lovely home for the two of you, he'd have to keep all the other merfolk out from now on but that wasn't an issue, they were respectful of claimed territory.

Once you caught your breath you were confused and angry at the sudden relocation.

"What the f-"

He interrupted you again, this time by pressing his hungry lips to yours in a passionate embrace. His long tongue slipped past your unsuspecting lips and explored every inch that it could reach. His saliva pooled in your mouth, claiming it. The offending muscle snaked down your throat before finally retreating as he broke the kiss, you struggled to find your breath once more.

"Heh, sorry for interrupting, I have just been waiting to kiss you for so long I couldn't hold back any longer!"

“What!? Why did you do that? Why did you bring me here!?”

“Well your shyness was making it hard for us to take things to the next step in our relationship, now you can’t let your nervousness get the better of you and make you run off!”

“Next step in our relationship? We have no relationship, you creep!”

“Don’t say that! Y-you just have the jitters because moving in is such a big step! Yeah, they’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“There won’t be a soon, I am going back to the beach!”

You started to head back to the water, but Onyk closed the distance between the two of you easily.

“But you can’t go! You’re just in denial and nervous, but you’ll love living with me, I promise. M-maybe I’m not moving too fast but too slow. That must be it, you must be all pent up and eager for my dick! So naughty~”

Onyk’s blush was evident even on his light blue skin. He swallowed your complaints in another deep kiss as he stood behind you and rubbed your crotch gently.

“We’ll do it in front of these cameras so everyone knows you’re mine now~”

And, indeed, the screens in the adults only section of the aquarium definitely picked up some viewers as the scene between you and Onyk unfolded.

Most mermen would have had trouble traversing land, but Onyk’s strong tentacles allowed him to maneuver easily enough. He peeled off your wet clothing and wrapped his arms tightly around your bare chest, rubbing and caressing you with greedy hands. His prehensile cock wrapped partially around your waist, held you close as it rubbed against you. At first you mistook the sensation for a tentacle before looking down and seeing it, the cock was tapered, icy blue and glowing at the tip, with the rest of it being dark purple.

Your shouts and screams were ignored as Onyk convinced himself they were just you being grumpy or maybe playing hard to get. The merman’s sharp teeth bit carefully at your tender neck as you squirmed. Most of his tentacles had wrapped around your legs, powerful suction cups firmly adhered them to you. They held you staunchly in place despite your best efforts to struggle.

The remaining two writhing appendages were busy with another task. They gently prodded and massaged your tight hole, slowly worming their way inside you. Your efforts to clench and keep them outside of you were rendered futile as they finally worked their way inside of you. They began thrusting in tandem back and forth within you, loosening you up well.

Your next attempt at protesting devolves into several lusty moans as he ministrations begin to elicit pleasure. It’s all the confirmation he needs that he has been right all along and definitely went about everything in the right way.

“Your mating sounds are so lovely,” he said as he nipped at your ear.

His tentacles suddenly withdrew from your lovingly stretched hole, leaving you involuntarily whimpering at the sudden removal.

“Awe, don’t worry, love. I have something far better to put into you~”

You snap out of it when you hear those words and feel his cock move itself from your waist and start wiggling against you in search of its target.

“What!? No, please do-oooh~ Aaah!”

When it found your entrance it deftly slithered right in. Much to your unwilling pleasure.

Onyk chuckled.

“I knew you just needed some good dick~ You feel soooo good. You were made for this!”

When you happened to look up at one of the cameras you blushed and looked down. The room that monitored the sea cave was now packed, everyone enjoying the sight. The aquarium was already at work recording with plans to put it on their website for sale.

You couldn’t help the lewd cacophony of noises that tumbled from your mouth as the thick slimy cock thrust back and forth inside of you.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” Onyk chanted louder and louder until he slammed into you hard, filling you up with warm viscous semen at the same moment that you were shuddering from the strongest orgasm that you had ever experienced.

You were far too dazed and overstimulated to realize what was going on in that moment or what you were saying, but on autopilot you mumbled back what your brain thought it was supposed to when someone told you that they loved you.

“I l-love you too…”

Onyk was overjoyed to hear those words from his beloved human. He pulled out of you and laid down on the floor of the cave, pulling you close to him and resting your head on his chest. His webbed fingers gently caressed you as did both the tentacles that made up his "hair" and the ones below his waist. Cum slowly ebbed out of you and onto him but he didn't mind, the two of you would just get messy again the second you came to your senses. He nuzzled into your hair and gave you dozens of little kisses. Your mind was too blank and your body too exhausted to do anything but drool a bit on his chest while he cuddled you.

His head was swimming with all of the things the two of you would do together. Sharing meals, chatting, mating. He couldn’t wait to wrap his cock gently around your neck while at the same time plunging it down your throat and having that pretty mouth of yours suck it until he was feeding you his cum. Maybe the two of you could try it when you woke up.

Meanwhile onlookers on the viewing screens were putting away their cocks and slipping their fingers out of their pussies with the spectacle now over, but word soon spread and tourism was up over 300 percent! Scientists the world over were interested in documenting this rare species of merman having sexual relations with a human. Grants were given. A great raise and credit to your cousin, the curator.

It was even considered a diplomatic victory for merfolk and humans!

Everyone came to the consensus that on all fronts, but yours, it was far too beneficial and lucrative to make sure you had to permanently stay in the sea cave for the rest of your life with Onyk. At the very least they equipped the habitat with amenities like a proper bathroom, tv, video games, and human food. The sea cave area was also expanded, and you were afforded some privacy, except for most of the times that your “husband” Onyk was spilling his seed into you. That’s what people wanted to see.

[yzegem]

Ogres in the culture of the Sun Empire.

The heartland of the Sun Empire contains the massive delta of the Daus River. This regions houses one of the largest populations of ogres in the whole continent.

Even though ogres are not related to humans, they resemble them and their horrifying appearence and might have been the subject of interest from most cultures of the western coast of the continent, including the Sun Empire.

Ogres are taken as cubs from their mothers when they are small enough to be transported alive safely and kept in captivity for the rest of their lives.

Ogres present extreme sexual dimorfism. Both males and females are born as tadpoles from eggs and grow into a salamander growth stage after than. Only females ogres become terrestrial after that, lose their tail and become large browsing animals while males remain mostly aquatic and resemble an alligator in shape and niche.

Female ogres are usually the ones captured and the fact that the male and female ogres are the same species is not widespread.

Ogres are used in human sacrifices, usually those of prisioners of war.

These sacred ogres are usually decorated with gold and cristal/ceramic beads, wich are each blessed by a priest and after the death of the ogre can be gifted as sacred talismans, as well as the body parts of the ogre.

The sacrifice is usually done by throwing the victim in a pit where the ogre is kept.

Given that being fed to an ogre is the very likely demise of many survivors of defeated armies, ogres are used as a symbol by warriors of the sun Empire as a way of psychological Warfare.

Here is an ogre banner displayed at the side of a war macouse.

And here is a member of the warrior caste in full war gear and face paint performing a war dance. During these dances warriors place their shields, often bearing ogre drawings, in front of themselves so that they look like said beast.

[filurig]

a little silleyyy i concocted as i have come up with a bäckahäst relative, the "bäckabock" - or sea-ram, sea-goat, etc. i will write a bit about them and this guy below..

despite their name and appearence, the sea-goats are not goats at all but are a relative of the bäckahäst, and thus a cervid. unlike their much larger brethren, sea-goats are adapted to a more aquatic lifestyle, in that they have a better swimming ability (the bäckahäst, while good swimmers, tend to wade more often due to their size, and only really spend long in deeper water during winter). their hair has convergently evolved a structure similar to otters, and thus insulate themselves underwater through air that gets trapped in it.

their diet consists mostly of fish and shellfish, they especially favour clams, and unlike the bäckahäst does not hunt terrestrial prey much (although it does happen, especially during the winter). culturally, bäckahästar and sea-goats intermingle a decent amount, and historically they actually have gotten along well probably stemming from the fact that they prefer different territories anyway, and hunt different prey for the most part - although this varies of course depending on the culture in question, and human-caused habitat loss also plays a big role.

this guy in particular, gaerneh, is a stone-smith, which is a common occupation among both bäckahästar and sea-rams. both species have the peculiar tendency to swallow stones - their stomach has adapted a "crop" like organ where such stones are stored. the use of this is to control buoyancy in the water and they often swallow/regurgitate stones depending on the situation. Anyway stone-smiths will shape stones to be optimal for swallowing, and there are also folk beliefs among many cultures about what kind of stones are best, or what "blessing" they may bring oneself - like "this kind of stone beckons a bountiful hunt" for example.

stone-smiths sometimes stay among their own, and focus on smithing stones adapted best for their species. but a few try to learn how to smith for both - gaerneh is one of those!

[nilsavatar]

DAY 23 BITING - Part 4

Parings: Neteyam x Fem!human

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

Genre/Warnings: fluff, ANGST, introspective, delicate themes (hibrid pregnacy, political and ideals conflict). All characters are AGED-UP. This the sequel of the @layla2-49 request used to fullfil the promp day 23 of lunakinktober 2023

Summary: Following the unexpected pairing that occurred at the Tree of Souls, after connecting as only two Na'vi normally could, Celeste and Neteyam entertain a clandestine relationship. Several times they have discussed coming out, but the girl is too prey to her insecurities as a human to do so. It is Eywa who will decide for both of them with a disconcerting revelation: they have conceived a hybrid child.

Word Count: 4,5k

Masterlist - Request a fic

In the bioluminescent glow of Pandora’s night, Jake Sully stood at the forest's edge, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. The vibrant nature around him buzzed with life, yet an unsettling turmoil brew within him. As olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and Toruk Makto, he had faced countless challenges, but none as perplexing as the transformation unfolding before him.

Celeste, a human who had become an integral part of their clan, was undergoing a metamorphosis that defied all understanding. Eywa had blessed her union with his son, yet the consequences were unprecedented. To say that the news of Celeste’s pregnancy sent shockwaves through both the scientists and the People would be an understatement. A tawtute woman carrying the offspring of a Na’vi? It was far beyond imagination. The avatar bodies—engineered through terrestrial brilliance, blending both genomes in just the right sequence to function under Pandora’s conditions—were compatible with the natives. Little Socorro was only human, though—kind of. Her body was changing, adapting in ways that blurred the lines between Earthborn and Pandoran.

The man’s mind raced with questions in the nighttime peace, hugging his half-sleeping wife in one of their occasional getaways from responsibilities and worries. Though this one was hard to forget even for an evening. “This isn’t like what happened to us,” he said, suddenly, breaking the silence of sweet slumber, thinking about Spider’s sister seated in the shade of their kelku, her hands resting on her growing belly. “I was logged in my avatar when we mated. I was Na’vi, physically. But her? There’s no scientific explanation.”

After the commute at the Tree of Souls, the clan split in two. Some supported the child as a sign of mutual prosperity, a miracle meant to exist in the balance of the world. Others, however, labeled it an ill omen, a violation of the natural order, feared what they couldn’t understand.

“It is not natural.” “Eywa may have allowed the union, but this... this is wrong.”

Jake had heard it all before. The same fright, the same resistance to change that had nearly torn the Omatikaya apart when colonizers first came back to Pandora. But this time, he got that fright. Because deep down, beneath his duty as olo’eyktan and his instinct to protect his family, he felt it too. As wild as the perennial torment that the two sides of his very identity instilled in him.

“There is no scientific explanation for Eywa,” Neytiri stated, her voice serious, resolute just as it always was when faith and Na’vi culture were at stake. It was a conviction he has never fully embraced. The need to rely on science, on logic, on the knowable, was an earthly instinct he could never entirely cast aside. That lifeline—the belief that there was a reason behind everything, something demonstrable, classifiable, repeatable—was still a part of him. Neytiri might have agreed that there was a universal design, but her understanding of it was vastly different from his. Less analytical, less tangible than the laws of physics and biology, but to her, no less real. Perhaps, in some ways, even more so.

“It’s as much a mystery as Kiri conception.” “Not of the same scale, though.”  “We must trust the Great Mother nonetheless.” Jake exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. “Trusting her is one thing. Convincing the People...”

He was right. There was division among them. Leadership weighed heavily on his tired shoulders, and the safety of his loved ones, of Celeste and the baby, depended on the decisions he would make in the coming months. As the night creatures sang their melodies, Jake took a troubled breath, seeking clarity. The path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, and for the first time in years, he felt the sting of doubt piercing his resolve. This wasn’t just about Celeste; it was about what she was becoming and what it would have meant for all of them. He knew Pandora. He had lived, fought, loved, and lost for this world. And he knew that when the Great Mother acted, it was always on purpose, even when it felt like uncharted territory.

It started subtly; Celeste first noticed it in quiet moments—when the dizziness from exertion subsided faster than it should have, when her heartbeat, once erratic in Pandora's dense atmosphere, slowed into a steady rhythm, perfectly in tune with the nature around her. Insects that normally avoided humans drifted closer during her strollings in the forest, as if sensing that she was no longer a regular alien walking in their world. Plants reacted to her touch, sending a pleasant tingling along her fingertips. Gradually, her senses were heightening beyond the limits of her species. She could hear animals weaving through the luscious vegetation, their calls reaching her feeble ears in way they never should have.

But then, the changes became undeniable She didn’t need the mask anymore.

The moment had come without fanfare. Celeste sat at the edge of a clearing, absentmindedly sketching in her notebook as the sun warmed her skin. Tuk sat beside her, both watching Neteyam train a small group of young aspirant warriors—the few still permitted to learn under their prince’s guidance. A shadow passed over Celeste’s face, the weight of guilt settling deep in her stomach, more and more pungent. Tuk, noticing, gently patted her forearm.

“Hey, don't think about it.” Cel forced a smile, though it did nothing to brighten her tired expression. “They would have signed farce papers to train with him first. Now, half the clan despises him, and the other avoids him out of fear.” “He is still the heir to the throne.” “How much longer?” she asked, her voice tight with distress. “Tsentey's faction is gathering more support every day. If they grow into a majority, it could mean exile for you. It could...” She trailed off, her fingers instinctively tightening over the slight swell of her belly. A tear caught the sunlight before she quickly lifted her head, blinking it away. “Sorry, Tuk-Tuk. I didn't mean to upset you.” “I'm old enough to listen to you if you need me.”

Celeste glanced at her, a genuine, grateful smile breaking through the tension. Tuk—still so small, yet already so mature. The rhythms of the clan left little room for childhood. By fourteen or fifteen, many had already completed Iknimaya and faced the Uniltaron—the Dream Hunt—to find their spirit animal and take their place as adults among the Omatikaya. Tuk’s own rite of passage was approaching fast, and for sure, growing up amid the ongoing conflict with the Sky People had only accelerated that process. Yet, she was still, indeed, a child. And Celeste wished she could protect that innocence just a little longer.

“Don’t worry for me,” she said with a sly grin. “Rather tell me about Enyetan.” The young woman arched a brow, giving her a suggestive look that made the teenager blush furiously. “Don't you start too!” Laughter bubbled from the sister-in-law's lips, warm and unrestrained. The sound carried across the clearing, reaching the ever-attentive ears of her mate, who couldn’t help but smile at the rare moment of lightness in the chaos of their lives.

What no one noticed, however, was how the energy in that laughter was off—wavering, unsteady. That day, the mask felt suffocating, the air too heavy and humid against her face. Suddenly, her breathing grew shallow, her throat constricting more at every second, intense heat searing through her airways. Panic should have set in; the desperate scramble for the emergency rebreather strapped to her belt. But it didn’t. The familiar choking weight of asphyxiation never came. panic. Instead, she felt light. Open. She gulped, and the air flowed freely into her lungs.

Pure. Fresh. Alive.

Her hands trembled as she hesitantly removed the exo-pack, bracing for inevitable. She expected her vision to blur, her throat to seize, the raw, toxic atmosphere of Pandora to set her lungs ablaze. Nothing happened. She inhaled deeply. No torturous pain, no giddiness. Just... oxygen filling her chest with an ease she had never known. Cool and sweet, like taking a true breath for the first time. The world around her looked brighter, colors deeper, sounds richer, the pulse of Eywa’s life clearer in her mind.

When she turned, Tuk was staring. “Cel...” she called with big, round, unblinking eyes. “Your mask.” 

Neteyam, mid-correction a boy’s stance with a bow, snapped his head in their direction, froze in place; a rare crack in his usual aplomb. Lo’ak, across the clearing, nearly dropped his spear as he strode over with a grim intensity, eyes flashing with disbelief. “Are you insane?” he blurted. “Put that back on before you drop dead!”  It was only then, as every pair of eyes locked onto her, that the human girl realized what she had done. Her breath was even, her chest rose and fell without resistance. She just shook her head, equally disoriented, “I... don’t need it.”

Neteyam was at her side in an instant, his large, calloused hands cupping her beautiful face, his lemon-gold eyes scanning hers with an unreadable mix of trepidation and alarm. “How?” The question wasn’t directed at her so much as at himself, as he looked at her with those giant orbs that characterized him in moments of extreme concentration. Pupils blown wide to the point they almost covered the entire iris. An adaptation response to threat, to enhance vision, to assess danger, to track an escape. His entire frame was on high alert, wired for protection. To keep his mate safe from something that was beyond unfamiliar, though.

This was odd.

For months, he had wrestled with sleepless nights and unshakable guilt. Gilt for giving in to his urges, for silencing reason when he should have resisted. No matter how much he loved Celeste, no matter how natural it had felt to surrender to his feelings, he should have held back. Instead, he had let desire eclipse caution, and now, she was paying the price. Inside, a sick weight settled in his gut, he felt lousy. He had failed at the one thing he had been trained for: protect. Maybe Tsentey was right. Maybe he wasn’t fit to lead. the leader of his people. How could he secure the clan if he couldn't even take care of his woman?

She reached for him, her fingers wrapping around his shaking hand, her respire hitched. “It’s the child.” Because what else could it be? What other options could explain what was going on with her?

Silence fell, thick and heavy. She could see the thoughts written plainly across their faces—the shock, the unease, the dread they didn’t dare voice. The training had come to a standstill. Stiff postures, atonic stares. Lo'ak and Tuk, who had been watching open-mouthed, exchanged a glance, their usual roguery absent for once.

A student’s voice, when it came, was quiet but edged with something serrated. “This has never happened before.”  “Shit,” Lo’ak exhaled, running a palm down his face. Neteyam's ears darted back at his brother’s reaction, tail lashing once before forcing himself to regain composure. Then, gently, he pressed his forehead to Celeste’s, his long fingers sliding down to cover hers over their unborn child. He tried—desperately—to ignore the whispers around them, the same echoing in the back of his mind, threatening to surface. “Isn’t this amazing, tìyawn (love)? I can finally admire you all day without this horrible mask hiding your beauty.” 

Celeste giggled at his ridiculous, love-drunk words, and for a fleeting minute, her preoccupations faded. Neteyam had always possessed this quiet strength—the ability to lift the weight off others’ shoulders, to remind them of the light even in the darkest moments. But it was also his greatest flaw. He carried too much. He took on burdens that weren’t his, stretched himself thin until he was on the verge of breaking.

Still, as he pressed their entwined hands against the gentle swell of her belly, warmth spread through her—not quite human, not quite Na’vi, but something in between.

There was content for a while, the nice, peaceful fondness of being in her lover's embrace. But it didn’t last. An acute sting twisted through her abdomen. She doubled over with a cry, her breath coming in ragged bursts. “What is it?” Neteyam asked urgently, his hand instinctively landing on her baby bump, aggravation evident in both his expression and voice. She couldn’t respond; the dull ache so severe it prevented her from speaking. The sensation wasn’t just pain—it was movement. Not the ordinary flutters of a fetus developing in the womb, this was deeper, stranger, as though something resonated within her. Not far away, the plants pulsed in time with her heartbeat, their faint radiance glinting like distant stars. Celeste clutched her stomach, feeling something under her skin shift. 

Kiri, who had been meditating high in the green canopy, sat upright. “It’s happening,” she whispered, her yellow eyes as large as a lemur’s.

By sunset, Celeste was in the ambulatory unit, surrounded by meds. The air soupy with tension; the sterile, white walls felt oppressive, nothing like the vast, living jungle or the cosy, homely ambience of Hometree. She sat on the examination table, palms firm over her tummy, mind reeling while they ran test after test, talking in hushed tones laced with both awe and fret.

The weight of the exo-pack she had worn her entire life was gone, yet the air in the lab had never felt stifler. Norm and Max worked in quiet urgency, moving between holo-screens displaying her vitals, their brows furrowed. The data didn’t make sense, her heart rate had slowed, more like Na’vi's than a human's. Her oxygen saturation was perfect—too perfect—the high carbon dioxide levels in the Pandoran atmosphere should have been affecting her, but they weren't. The ultrasound showed something incredible. She had developed wichow—the specialized organs, similar to kidneys, that allow natives to extract oxygen for their bloodstream from Pandora’s otherwise toxic air. A natural filter. A biological unfeasibility for her, still there it was.

Then there was the genetic scan. And that was when everything changed.

“This is phenomenal,” one doctor exclaimed, rubbing her temples as she stared at the results. Adjusting her glasses, she leaned closer to Max. “Her DNA is evolving. Look at his—her respiratory system has adapted to filtrate Pandora’s atmosphere, but it’s not solely adaptation. It’s... transformation.” She turned to the patient, her eyes filled with both scientific fascination and deep concern. “Your body isn’t just compensating for the pregnancy, Cel. It’s rewriting itself.” “What does that mean?” Neteyam’s reassuring grip on her shoulder stiffened while she shuddered. Max didn’t sugarcoat it. “The fetus isn’t a simple hybrid,” he explained, voice calm but dour. “It's triggering changes in you. Something in its DNA is interacting with yours in a way we’ve never seen.”  She swallowed hard, “I’m... mutating.”  Jake's words came out through clenched teeth, his jaw tight enough to snap. “That’s why she can breathe out there.” 

Neytiri stood rigid near the door, her narrowed eyes fixed on the glowing monitors. She didn't fully grasp the science behind the data plashing across the screens, nor the theories the experts were debating. But of one thing, she was totally sure: they had entered unknown territory. There were no answers here, no precedents. And the deeper they went in, the more question marks and anxieties sprung up. The creature Celeste was carrying was extraordinary in every sense of the term; not yet born, and already it was reshaping the world around it. This child—this impossible child—was changing everything from its very core.

But Celeste could see the unspoken fear in her eyes.

Kiri, who had insisted on coming, stood by her bestie’s side, her yellow orbs bouncing between the readings and her own intuition. “My nephew is part of both worlds. And now, so is Cel,” she stated softly. Spider shook his head, still baffled, struggling to wrap his mind around the unsettling reality. “That’s not how genetics works.”  The future tsahìk observed her friend with a grave look. “Nawna Sa’nok’s touch lingers on you,” she declared, pressing a cool palm on her forehead. 

Spider’s expression darkened, memories surfacing of all the times he had found Kiri lying in the middle of the wilderness, lost in a trance, nature beating around her. The way plants reacted to her touch, how she had tamed her ikran with freakish ease, how she swam through the currents, breathing underwater without any training as if she had always belonged to them. “You have felt this way before, haven’t you?” he asked, voice aloof with realization. Kiri nodded. “Not like this,” she admitted. “But yes. I have felt a... pull. A connection.” Her glance glimmered to her friend’s stomach. “It’s like Eywa’s energy is flowing through her.”  Neteyam’s jaw clenched, his hold on Celeste’s stronger. “Is she in danger?”  His sister’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “Was I?” she retorted, her words heavy with meaning.

“She’s not you.” Spider rubbed things in, rough, blunt, unable to conceal his growing agitation for his twin'. “Yet she has been chosen exactly as I was. As my mother was.”  “Your mother was an inanimate body in a fucking tank! She wasn't risking anything.” His remark was harsh and cruel, the tone leathery with frustration, but Kiri didn’t flinch. She knew he didn’t mean to hurt her. If anything, he had always been one of the few who had stood by her, defended her when others doubted. But just like everyone else in that room, Spider was terrified. As much as it hurt on a par with an anvil, she could find it in her heart to justify him. Celeste reached for him, squeezing his hand with one of hers while the other rested on her hip. The warmth inside her, the link she felt deep in her bones, was changing her at a fundamental level.

“Will I survive this?” she finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. The medical team couldn’t answer that question; the entire ordeal was new to everybody. Neteyam tensed beside her. Jake and Neytiri exchanged glances, the weight of precariousness dense between them, the pressure in the unit mounting at any second.

Truth settled over them like a murky, noxious fog. Neytiri’s ears flattened, her tail rolled dolefully around her leg as if seeking comfort in making herself small. One hand clamped against her chest, the other tentatively sought her husband's touch, resting on his contracted arm. His fist was clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white, his other hand raking through his dreadlocks as he inhaled noisily through his flat nose. They had never shown such vulnerability before, or at least not at this magnitude. As parental figures, as leaders of the Omatikaya, they had always carried their burdens with quiet strength—as their firstborn son had learned to do. But now, stripped of that armor, their fear was palpable.

This only made Neteyam even more nervous. His whole frame was taut, trembling on the verge of exploding. His eyes, wide, glassy, shimmered with unshed tears, perfectly round and reflective like polished stones. He was there, present among them, but his spirit was somewhere far away. Cel—the love of his life— could have died, and no one could have stopped it. And for what? A child they never needed? A future they never chose? Why was Eywa doing this? Why them?

Their love was already complicated—strained by their incompatible species, haunted by past pain and resentment, burdened by the expectations of his status. He had thought he could cast it all aside, that he could embrace the reward the Great Mother had granted him. But that gift came with conditions—conditions so heavy that, had he known them in advance, he might have turned away. Yet none of it mattered. He would sacrifice his own happiness if it meant keeping Celeste safe.

In the fragile months after they had first come together, he had offered nothing but solace and praise. He had consoled when she was in distress, lifted her up when she doubted herself, encouraged her to trust her decisions—even the reckless ones as this one. But now, standing at the precipice of something unknown and terrifying, he could no longer do the same. He wished, more than anything, that he possessed the human gift for lying. At times like these, it would have proven useful—even if only to convince himself that everything would be fine, that at the end of this impossible journey, they would be happy. The three of them. Three, not two. Not just him and the baby. Not just him alone. Imagining a life without her was unbearable, and he refused to linger on the thought.

For a brief moment, once the initial panic had subsided, he had even allowed himself to believe that what was happening was beautiful. A miracle. Celeste could now breathe Pandora’s air—something that would surely help her through the long months ahead. But now, with this new revelation, he could no longer meet her gaze with comfort. Those warm, sweet, frightened, yet fiercely brave eyes searched his for reassurance. He had none to give.

Na’vi do not lie. And he would not offer false hope for something that, deep in his heart, frightened him so terribly.

As agitation grew, Norm reluctantly stepped forward and stroked his foot with the caring and kind manner of an uncle. “Look, we need more tests before we jump to conclusions. Right now, the priority is monitoring Cel’s condition. If your genome keeps reconstructing at this rate, we have no idea where it will end.”

*

The days blurred together in a haze of tests, scans, and restless nights where Celeste lay awake, feeling her body shift in ways she couldn’t see but knew were happening. The lab’s artificial lights felt oppressive, suffocating. The sterile environment clashed with the instincts waking inside her. She craved the jungle, the open air of Pandora—she needed to feel the earth beneath her feet, to hear the hum of life all around her. But every time she voiced this, Jake or Neytiri would exchange wary glances, and Neteyam would grip her hand a little tighter, unwilling to risk anything.

The fear in his eyes was worse than anything else. But the changes weren’t waiting for permission.

She no longer needed the exo-pack to breathe, that much was obvious. But it wasn’t just that: her lungs had changed. Max’s latest scans confirmed it. “They’ve elongated,” he said, adjusting his glasses as he stared at the results. “Your oxygen absorption rate has increased. You’re breathing like a Na’vi now.” Celeste touched her ribs absently while taking a deep breath from the inhaler—one designed for avatars and natives alike. She had already felt it. The deep, instinctual way her chest expanded when she inhaled, the effortless intake of Pandora’s air as if she had been born for it.

And her skin, once the soft beige of an Earthborn, had begun to repigment in tone—a faint iridescence beneath the surface was spreading, veins shimmering faintly in dim lighting. It wasn’t full bioluminescence like the Na’vi, but it was close.

Then there were her senses. At night, she could see in the dark. Not just in the way humans adjusted to low light, this was different. Colors took on a richer depth, details sharpened beyond what should have been possible. Smelling the lightest traces of the rainforest that clung to Neteyam’s skin, the sticky whiff of the cerulean paint his brother painted his body with, the pungent tang of disinfectant in the lab, once a mild annoyance, now felt nauseous. Scents she had never detected in the past. And her hearing—she could pick up sounds that no one else in the lab could. Conversations whispered in corners, the rustling of fabric from another room. She didn’t tell anyone, but she could hear the low, rhythmic hum of the planet itself when she closed her eyes. It was overwhelming.

And the baby—the baby was growing fast. Too fast. At just four months, she already looked closer to six. The doctors were baffled, worried. The hybrid nature of the child seemed to be accelerating everything as if her body wasn’t just adapting—it was rushing to keep up with whatever the baby needed.

Neteyam never left her side. She felt his hands on her belly every night, felt the quiet reverence in his touch as he whispered to the child in Na’vi, his forehead pressed to hers in silent devotion. But she also felt his dread. The terror that she would slip away from him. That she would become something unrecognizable or disappear entirely.

Celeste stared at her reflection in the sterile glass of the lab’s observation window, barely recognizing herself. Her fingers trembled as she traced the outline of her cheekbones. Were they more angular than before? It wasn’t just weight loss. The structure of her visage was subtly shifting—her features elongating ever so slightly, her eyes taking on a faint amber hue that had not been there before.

And her hair. It had thickened, the strands darkening from their usual color to something richer, a shade closer to the inky black of the People. When she moved, the fine strands caught the light in strange, reflecting tones of deep violet and green—pale but unmistakable.

The changes weren’t just superficial. Her senses were growing keener by the day. She could hear Jake and Neytiri talk outside the room, even through the sturdy walls. She could smell the faintest traces of the jungle that clung to Neteyam’s skin, scents she had never been able to pick up before. The stench of disinfectant of the compound, once lightly noticeable, now felt almost insufferable.

Then there was the most undeniable proof of her metamorphosis, the most disturbing change—her queue.

the way her body responded to Pandora’s energy. She could feel the pulse of the world in a way that made her dizzy. When she stepped outside, the very air around her seemed to hum against her skin. The plants, the ground, the very life of the moon—it was as if she were beginning to tap into something bigger, something she had never been meant to connect with as a human.

And the most undeniable proof of that was her queue. It had appeared three nights ago. Celeste had woken in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, her entire body burning as if feverish. Neteyam sprang into action immediately, pressing a damp cloth to her forehead, whispering soothing nothings as she gasped through the strange, intense sensation of her own body warping itself. When the pain finally ebbed, she had felt it, something pulling at the base of her skull. A tendril-like appendage forming, hidden beneath her thickening hair. It wasn’t fully developed—not yet—but the sensation was undeniable. A strange tingling at the back of her neck, as though her body was forcing her into something closer to the Na’vi.

The moment Neteyam realized, his eyes had gone wide, caught between stupor and scare, his hand trembling as he brushed over the barely formed kuru. He exhaled shakily, his gaze raw, almost reverent. “You’re not human anymore.”

Taglist: @minnory @faith2155 @stardream14 @akari-rosefield

[apiswitchcraft]

orphic hymns to apollo and diana

i should mention that i did NOT write these!! they are from like the 1st century AD lol

APOLLO:

Blest Pæan, come, propitious to my prayer, illustrious power, whom Memphian tribes revere,

Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health, Lycorian Phœbus, fruitful source of wealth.

Spermatic, golden-lyred, the field from thee receives it's constant, rich fertility.

Titanic, Grunian, Smynthian, thee I sing, Python-destroying, hallowed, Delphian king:

Rural, light-bearer, and the Muse's head, noble and lovely, armed with arrows dread:

Far-darting, Bacchian, two-fold, and divine, power far diffused, and course oblique is thine.

O, Delian king, whose light-producing eye views all within, and all beneath the sky:

Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure, who, omens good reveals, and precepts pure:

Hear me entreating for the human kind, hear, and be present with benignant mind;

For thou surveys this boundless æther all, and every part of this terrestrial ball

Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight, extends beneath the gloomy, silent night;

Beyond the darkness, starry-eyed, profound, the stable roots, deep fixed by thee are found.

The world's wide bounds, all-flourishing are thine, thyself all the source and end divine:

'Tis thine all Nature's music to inspire, with various-sounding, harmonizing lyre;

Now the last string thou tuned to sweet accord, divinely warbling now the highest chord;

The immortal golden lyre, now touched by thee, responsive yields a Dorian melody.

All Nature's tribes to thee their difference owe, and changing seasons from thy music flow

Hence, mixed by thee in equal parts, advance Summer and Winter in alternate dance;

This claims the highest, that the lowest string, the Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring.

Hence by mankind, Pan-royal, two-horned named, emitting whistling winds through Syrinx famed;

Since to thy care, the figured seal is consigned, which stamps the world with forms of every kind.

Hear me, blessed power, and in these rites rejoice, and save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.

DIANA:

Hear me, Jove's daughter, celebrated queen, Bacchian and Titan, of a noble mien:

In darts rejoicing and on all to shine, torch-bearing Goddess, Dictynna divine;

Over births presiding, and thyself a maid, to labor-pangs imparting ready aid:

Dissolver of the zone and wrinkled care, fierce huntress, glorying in the Sylvan war:

Swift in the course, in dreadful arrows skilled, wandering by night, rejoicing in the field:

Of manly form, erect, of bounteous mind, illustrious dæmon, nurse of human kind:

Immortal, earthly, bane of monsters fell, 'tis thine; blest maid, on woody hills to dwell:

Foe of the stag, whom woods and dogs delight, in endless youth who flourish fair and bright.

O, universal queen, august, divine, a various form, Cydonian power, is thine:

Dread guardian Goddess, with benignant mind auspicious, come to mystic rites inclined

Give earth a store of beauteous fruits to bear, send gentle Peace, and Health with lovely hair,

And to the mountains drive Disease and Care.

Dividers by @vibeswithrenai

[writingescapades]

The Eyes Are the Keys to the Soul

Rafayel x reader

It’s a long-understood aspect of human nature. That our eyes reveal our souls. But surely such a statement could not apply to a god?

Icy-blue eyes that gaze indiscriminately at his devotees. Blue-black vacant eyes that hold the depth of his devotee’s tear-shed miseries. Cerulean eyes that watch the world with an ancient one’s detachment. A god’s eyes can only reflect the world back for its soul is tied to its stature.

Omnipotent.

Omniscient.

Omnipresent.

Thus Rafayel’s eyes gazed as towering waves. Strong and powerful, they encompassed mankind and served a constant reminder of their terrestrial limits, for only water could flow where life stopped.

A god’s eyes were made for humans.

And yet.

This god’s eyes warmed when they landed on you.

It was irrefutable.

Their blue coldness warmed into the evening sunset. A brief twilight. A reminder for the Lemurians that even their own god must partake in their highest value. Love.

But a god’s love cannot be partial. It cannot be selective. And it cannot be all-consuming. Devotes would riot. They would tear down a god that would dare not look at them. They would have probably preferred Rafayel’s impassive eyes. It was true, even today, centuries later and cultures apart. Rafayel would gaze at his admirers and find the same hunger.

A god could never become a devotee, and yet a Lemurian god must partake in Lemuria’s highest value. Thus Rafayel was loved but never allowed to love. He was held, but could never grasp back. He was worshiped, yet his lips could only exhale blessings.

And yet.

Rafayel did love. A devotee. A spouse. A partner. An ally. A friend. You took on many names and titles, teasing him to follow life after life. And he did follow, for how could he not.

The eyes are the keys to the soul, and Rafayel’s eyes took on their pink hue. Dichotomous eyes that branded him. The sullied stature of a god that loved and the blasphemous desires of a human wanting to be god. An abandoned god. A tyrannical human. Such a being crawled out of the waters and made Earth their home.

And what a lovely home it was! Filled to the walls with all his lives. A museum of memories devoted to all his loves. A shrine he pays homage through his most devotional tool. For the god has learned that he loves to love. And though he may suffer for it, his purple eyes continue to seek out yours. Life after life. For Rafayel could finally feel love. Could finally see, smell, hear and taste it.

And so the god fell. Fell hard. For he was in a rush to become.

Devoted.

[aroaceleovaldez]

What about Artemis kids? I know it's not possible, but it's fun to think of ideas

I do think on a technicality you could have an Artemis kid - just either a demigod born or created of non-conventional means (like Athena kids), or I headcanon demigods/mortals blessed/adopted by deities in the PJO universe can get demigodly powers that way (which is my theory for why Jason can fly but Thalia seemingly can't, with it actually a blessing from Hera/Juno rather than a Zeus/Jupiter power since they both have domain over the skies but Hera/Juno focuses a bit more on the winds. And it's also basically just directly stated that's how Artemis' huntresses get their unique stuff, like enhanced archery, immortality, bond with the hunting animals, etc etc).

The only thing I have with a theoretical Artemis “kid” is how much overlap Artemis has with Apollo, since they’re twins and also both sky deities so they naturally share several domains and have a lot of overlap between others. There’s some aspects you can fiddle with that are different (Apollo kids definitely lean more into healing and have some more aspects tied to domestic animals and cities and stuff, whereas Artemis more focuses on the wild. Apollo has some aspects over seafaring while Artemis is more terrestrial, Artemis has links to magic/Hecate/chthonic deities while Apollo’s lean more into averting evil/oracular stuff and precognition, etc etc) so unless you really lean into those distinctions you can end up with just... basically a Dark Mode Apollo kid? Or basically just a Hecate kid (who Artemis is also heavily associated with, even to Hecate sometimes being a virgin goddess or Artemis/Diana being one-third of Hecate). So for me the idea of an Artemis kid has to rely very heavily on why they're differentiated from just an Apollo kid just a little to the left.

Relating to Hecate kids and Hecate sometimes being a virgin goddess though - Artemis rarely having something like the headcanon of most Hecate kids being created from rocks could be very fun. Maybe Artemis decided to take a page out of Hecate's book and turned a moon rock into a demigod just for funsies. Or turned an animal into a person. Or, again, maybe Artemis just decided to adopt a demigod.

If you wanna get real funky with it, you could also play around with the overlap between different deities and them being conflated/associated with one another and in canon being able to appear/be summoned in different forms of their different aspects. Maybe have an Artemis kid under a very specific branching aspect of her that's more closely aligned to like Hecate or Persephone or etc and play around with how confusing that'd be to both the kid and Artemis.

[ashtarels-archives]

The Mysteries of Elunite Ore

- Headcanon Speculations -

Elunite Ore, a rare mineral considered blessed by Elune Herself, is one often sought after; and yet shrouded in mystery. As many priests, priestesses, templars, and other devotees of the Goddess may strive to incorporate Elunite into their armaments and regalia, the quest for obtaining and fashioning this material is one that has spanned many lands and generations. This is a compendium on the nature of Elunite from various geologists, theorists, and researchers across Azeroth.

Earthly Origins

The origin of Elunite’s terrestrial formation is not entirely understood by Sisterhood scholars, nor by lithic experts of the world. One of the oldest proposed ideas is rooted in the ancient legend of Elune and the Well of Eternity: that she once dwelled in its depths during the day, and rose into the sky as the moon each night. Due to her strong former connection to this font of arcane power, it is surmised that Elunite may actually be crystallized remnants of the great well; whose leyline rivers once nourished the planet. One theorist believes that because all modern moonwells contain traces of the Well of Eternity, and are damaging to demons and scourgeblight, this could explain the similar holy properties of Elunite. However, others claim that it finds its beginnings as a simple, mundane ore embedded within the earth, which is eventually augmented with Elune’s blessings once it is exposed to the surface and directly shone upon by moonlight. More mythical sentiments say that any ore can become Elunite if the goddess wills it, and that finding it is an extremely rare and divine auspice. It is believed that processed Elunite is a multi-faceted metal whose properties can change depending on imbuement from various moon phases and other major lunar events, such as eclipses. While some think it is ever-shifting, varied accounts of miners and blacksmiths with the remarkable ability to shape Elunite describe that its qualities are determined by the state of the moon on the exact night that the ore is extracted from the earth. Either way, this is a succinct list of their observations:

Full Moon Properties: Bolsters the wearer/wielder’s healing capabilities, and is often inlaid into staves and suturing needles. Full Moon Elunite is also highly damaging to demons and the undead; therefore anyone on a demonic or undead purgation mission may seek out a weapon of this influence to aid in expunging corruption. 

Waxing Moon Properties: Becomes a material which houses additional mana, that can then be tapped into for a small increase in magical reserves until recharged beneath the next waxing moon. Those who carry moonwater or the liquid fire of Elune may opt for this particular metal to house these sacred substances.

Quarter Moon Properties: Contains a natural abjurative energy which is typically used in the creation of Elunite shields, talismans, librams, wards, and armor for those who exercise a more defensive combat style, or wish to protect themselves magically against unholy forces.

Waning Moon Properties: Often the choice for Elunite accessories and other ephemera, which are usually crafted with the eventual intent of Elunarian sacrifice. When an item of waning moon Elunite is offered up, its physical form is completely consumed in exchange for a singular blessing, protection, or spell. Lunar liturgical glyphs or words of power are typically engraved on these accessories with particular spellwork in mind, although a priest/priestess may sacrifice a blank slate piece and incant one spell of choice with a greater potency.

New Moon Properties: It is said that New Moon Elunite is magically similar to the blessing of shadowmeld, allowing for easier camouflage into surrounding environments and quieter movements. Those who wish to make use of the protection offered by chainlinks or armor plates, while still retaining obscurity, may seek to have their regalia crafted with this semi-noise-dampening material. This offshoot of Elunite is additionally often sought after for the creation of arrowheads, shurikens, and other projectiles; as its magick may be utilized for brief invisibility before it dissipates and its physical counterparts reappear.

Solar Eclipse: Solar-eclipsed Elunite is often chosen in the creation of rings (such as archery thumb-rings) that are usually beset with moonstones and other blessed gems, whose imbuements can strengthen one's physical or magickal attacks.

Lunar Eclipse: Lunar-eclipsed Elunite is typically the choice material for divination tools: such as pendulums, scrying mirrors, and spirit-speaking quills. Some also craft ritual daggers with this material for the purpose of collecting flesh to be offered in Elunarian flame sacrifices.

Artisanal Knowledge

Another unknown characteristic of Elunite is how an artisan attains the ability to gather and shape the ore. It seems that precious few across Azeroth have this exceptional privilege, the two most prominent having once resided in the boughs of Darnassus. Elanaria and Mathiel have not been seen since the Burning of Teldrassil, but much can be gleaned from the stories of those who once worked with them. Many miners and blacksmiths are incapable of grasping the techniques surrounding Elunite, which poses some intriguing theories. The simplest is that the secrets of this ore are strongly protected, and seldom taught to others. Another that some have posited, is that the way to gain the privilege of crafting with this mineral requires proving oneself by performing an act of protection or preservation in defense of the goddess’s domain. She then assumedly rewards this deed with the artisanal knowledge of Elunite, or it then becomes malleable to that specific person. Elanaria supposedly tasked her trade partners and trainees with sacred missions such as slaying satyrs actively corrupting moonwells, and ending the suffering of oathbound shades. The late, self-cursed Captain Elura was said to wear a precious medallion, though we do not know if it was of Elunite make. Some theorize it was simply requested as a physical token of proof for the task; while others believe it was Elunite indeed, which is why Elanaria wanted it retrieved. If the medallion was shaped of this hallowed ore, the fact that Elura still wore it even in death may speak to its deep reverence, a spiritual binding property, or a partial immateriality.

Because of its sanctity, and the profound cultural respect for it among Kaldorei, crafting with Elunite may be more common among the Sisterhood of Elune; but still heavily guarded from the rest of the world. It could be that there is a sect of the Sisterhood devoted to sacred artisanry such as this; or, the Sisterhood may commission lay craftsmen who possess the means to Elunite. This material is also said to be utilized in profession tools such as sewing needles for mooncloth tailoring, quill nibs for lunar inscription, and rune rods for Elunarian enchanting. Hippogryph riders of the Sentinel Army, as well as individual riders, may commission blessed Elunite hoofshoes for fortified hind leg attacks, periods of extended wear on the back legs, when the creatures grow old, or are unable to fly; as some claim that they ease pain. Additionally, some equip saber, owl, and chimera companions with Elunite armor, claw/talon caps, and adornments just as they would wear regalia themselves.

In regards to metalworking with Elunite, some theorize that cold working (shaping metal at or below room temperature) may be the superior method as opposed to the extreme heats used with common minerals. Byproducts of Elunite smithing, such as the coal that is left behind from this process, may be used within braziers. It is said that Elunite coals, and the flames that burn from them, are resistant to water quenching; and as such are often used in settlements or outposts with heavy rain and snowfall. The most prevalent theory as to how these fires continue to burn posits that the coals themselves must be open to the skies, as the flames are “kindled,” so to speak, by the energies of the moon each night. Members of the Sisterhood are said to carefully wrap and gift Elunite coals to patrons on various holidays for people to place within the hearths of their home as tokens of spiritual protection and good will. Communal events organized by the order additionally use Elunite coals in cooking fires as an added method of blessing food stores; which some claim temporarily defends against illness, strengthens the body, and fortifies the spirit.

As of today, it is unclear whether or not Elunite can be alloyed. It could be that those who are able to work with the ore simply refuse to do so for fear of dampening its sacred properties; or, its inherent magick may be rendered useless or significantly weaker when alloyed with other common metals. In matters of corrosion, Elunite proves particularly mysterious. It would stand to reason that the goddess’s ties to water might strengthen the ore against rusting and deteriorating over time; although, there have not been any ancient Elunite artifacts recovered as of yet, perhaps implying that the material cannot withstand the elemental ravages of the eons. One possible argument against this is that because the ore is tremendously sacred, there may be ways to reshape or reuse the material; and that is why no timelost Elunite relics have been recovered.

Lore and Legend

Ancient, yet unsupported stories, say that Luminarian was one of the first to uncover the mysteries of Elunite; his name supposedly a pseudonym of sorts to commemorate his luminary works, and the ability to shape this luminous ore. While Elunite was fabled to be the reason for his rise to prominence, many speculate that he eventually abandoned the craft in favor of arcane creations; hence his lasting fame as a magesmith, and as the creator of mythical weapons like Felo’melorn and the Prismatic Blades. It is also rumored that the legendary Ta’Kierthan Songblades may have been forged of Elunite, considering they were crafted by a renowned Kaldorei priest: many of whom employ music and singing in their devotions and spellwork. The art of bardic weaponry seems to be an elusive one, perhaps completely lost to the ages, but nonetheless a technique that Elunarian scholars still seek in the ruins scattered across the lands of Azeroth. Those who traveled through the Dark Portal nearly forty years ago, as well as Draenei refugees, have noted a striking similarity between Elunite and some regalia found on Draenor, as well as others bequeathed directly by the naaru. No one is certain where these pieces are originally from: some claim that they once belonged to adventurers and were merely traded through many hands, while others are convinced that Elune and her blessed ore could have connections to the naaru, and that the ore may be on other planets throughout the cosmos. Elunite-imbued leggings were also recovered from the forest troll stronghold of Zul’aman; though how they got there is anyone’s guess. A commonality between all of these items is an increased critical strike chance, as well as greater potency for both damage and healing via magical spells. Two of the three also provide a passive mana restoration over time (much like moonwells), perhaps owing to the nature of Elunite’s inherent power.

[likethestarsatnight]

Orphic Hymn to Apollo

Blest Paean, come, propitious to my pray'r,

Illustrious pow'r, whom Memphian tribes revere,

Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health,

Lycorian Phoebus, fruitful source of wealth .

Spermatic, golden-lyr'd, the field from thee

Rreceives it's constant, rich fertility.

Titanic, Grunion, Smynthian, thee I sing,

Python-destroying, hallow'd, Delphian king:

Rural, light-bearer, and the Muse's head,

Noble and lovely, arm'd with arrows dread:

Far-darting, Bacchian, two-fold, and divine,

Pow'r far diffused, and course oblique is thine.

O, Delian king, whose light-producing eye

Views all within, and all beneath the sky:

Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure,

Who, omens good reveal'st, and precepts pure:

Hear me entreating for the human kind,

Hear, and be present with benignant mind;

For thou survey'st this boundless æther all,

And ev'ry part of this terrestrial ball

Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight,

Extends beneath the gloomy, silent night;

Beyond the darkness, starry-ey'd, profound,

The stable roots, deep fix'd by thee are found.

The world's wide bounds, all-flourishing are thine,

Thyself all the source and end divine:

'Tis thine all Nature's music to inspire,

With various-sounding, harmonising lyre;

Now the last string thou tun'ft to sweet accord,

Divinely warbling now the highest chord;

Th' immortal golden lyre, now touch'd by thee,

Responsive yields a Dorian melody.

All Nature's tribes to thee their diff'rence owe,

And changing seasons from thy music flow

Hence, mix'd by thee in equal parts,

Advance Summer and Winter in alternate dance;

This claims the highest, that the lowest string,

The Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring .

Hence by mankind, Pan-royal, two-horn'd nam'd,

Emitting whistling winds thro' Syrinx fam'd;

Since to thy care, the figur'd seal's consign'd,

Which stamps the world with forms of ev'ry kind.

Hear me, blest pow'r, and in these rites rejoice,

And save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.

Queenie's verson which I love:

[talonabraxas]

Khamael , Archangel of Mars Talon Abraxas

Samael is the Archangel of Mars – prince of the fifth heaven, lord of war and pestilence, and angel of death and destruction. He is the Sathan (Adversary) who visited wrath upon Job, slew the firstborn in Egypt, and (as the Guardian Angel of Easu) wrestled with Jacob. As the Sathan he accuses men of their wrongdoings in the Divine Court. Samael should not be confused with the modern Christian concept of Lucifer or the Devil. Samael is not the source of all evil, nor did he ever wage war upon the Throne of God.

He was, however, cast down to Earth when he refused to bow to Adam as the Image of God. (He had previously sworn to never bow to anything less than God Himself.) Once here, he took Lilith as his wife and has acted as the Divine Accuser, Enforcer and Angel of Death ever since. While he is still very much in the employ of God, he persecutes and seduces mankind when he is ordered to do so.

(Some sources equate Samael with Shemyaza, the leader of the fallen Watchers from the Book of Enoch. This is likely due to both Samael and Shemyaza being punished for disobedience, yet each retaining their positions as celestial angels. However the angels share no other characteristics, and this similarity does not prove the two angels are one and the same.)

The ancient Gnostics elevated him to the position of Demiurgos (the Creator) and interpreted his name to mean “Blind God.” They also called him Ialdabaoth and Saklas. His form was described as a lion-headed serpent. He and his angels (called archons) had created the world as a prison where they could feed upon mankind’s suffering. Later forms of Gnosticism, however, did not equate Ialdabaoth with Samael.

Samael was at one point regarded as the Patron Angel of Rome – and it is likely in this aspect that we see him (as the Dragon with Seven Heads) engaging in single combat against Michael (the Patron Angel of Israel) in the Revelation of St. John.

More recent tradition has given him the name Khamael (Camael, Camuel, etc) – the result of mistranslating a Hebrew Samekh (S) as a Kaph (Kh). In this form he is regarded primarily as the Angel of War and Divine Severity.

Invitation to Samael

I invoke thee, Samael! Holy Archangel of the Martial sphere! I call upon thee within thy realm of Severity and Fear!

Samael, Powerful, Bloody, Sword-bearer, Bold, Untamed, Terrestrial Fire, against whom none can defend himself, thou who destroys the strong and powerful, Lord of fiery heat – and of the planet of blood!

Samael, who art the Adversary, accusing men of their wrongdoing. Fearsome warrior and divine enforcer! You who inflicted Job with sorrow, who slew the firstborn of Egypt, and wrestled with Jacob. It is you who bears the wrath of God unto the Earth! You who overthrow nations and cast kings down from their thrones!

O Samael, we have called upon you [here list the reasons you have called him in the past, if any, and the positive results that came from those workings]. For all of this we thank you!

Come thou forth and partake of these offerings, which we have prepared in thy honour and to the glory of Elohim Gibor. May you find them pleasing and empowering. I ask that you offer your blessings to my home and family, and bear our offerings and prayers of thanksgiving to the Divine Court. We petition thee for strength and protection in all of our undertakings, for defense of our home, and that the light of thy wisdom should guide and keep us at all times. In the name of Elohim Gibor. Amen.

[aliciavance4228]

One thing that pisses me off is when people take a female figure from Greek Mythology who is supposed to have a terrifying/peculiar/unattractive appearance and make her conventionally beautiful. We're already familiar with Medusa and Scylla, but a case that is particularly very prominent (thanks to a certain video game) yet rarely discussed in Melinoe.

She is usually described as being "half dark" and "half light", as presented in the Orphic Hymn dedicated to her:

Orphic Hymn 71 to Melinoe (trans. Taylor) (Greek hymns C3rd B.C. to 2nd A.D.) :

"To Melinoe, Fumigation from Aromatics. I call, Melinoe, saffron-veiled, terrene, who from Phersephone dread venerable queen, mixt with Zeus Kronion (Cronion), arose, near where Kokytos' (Cocytus') mournful river flows; when, under Plouton's (Pluton's) [Haides'] semblance, Zeus divine deceived with guileful arts dark Phersephone (Persephone). Hence, partly black thy limbs and partly white, from Plouton dark, from Zeus ethereal bright. Thy coloured members, men by night inspire when seen in spectred forms, with terrors dire; now darkly visible, involved in night, perspicuous now they meet the fearful sight."

Still not convinced? Here's an adaptation of the Hymn to Melinoe, from the Sibylline Order:

I call saffron-veiled Melinoe, Daughter of Persephone and the Mystic Hades, Where flows the mournful river Cocytus, he beguiled the daughter of the Earth, So Thy limbs are partly black and partly white, Night's Daughter and Daughter of the light, Thy specter, now veiled in shadow, Now shimmering silver, inspires mortal fear. Terrestrial Queen, expel from our hearts, the soul's mad fears wherever found, And with holy aspect bless this incense, and Thy mystics, and this divine rite.

So before coming with the "Actually, that description is only metaphorical." argument take a look at these translations and see how even in the versions where she's conveniently considered the daughter of Hades she's still described as having black and white limbs.

And yet, this is how she's portrayed in the Hades Supergiant Video Game:

"Oh, look! This conventionally attractive woman has heterochromia and a skeleton arm covered in green gelatin? Oh mah gash, she's soooo scary!"

Okay, but maybe her fanarts are doing her more justi- Nevermind.

I mean, the second one kinda... tried?

Honestly it would be way more interesting if people won't hesitate to make her look similarly with Hel. Imagine her having dead and wizened, mumified-like skin on one side of her body. It would give her a frightening, ghostly, almost demonic appearance that will make her look like the goddess of ghosts.

Finally found a somehow decent one:

Great, now I want more artists to get more courage and make more terrifying fanarts of her.

[evolutionsvoid]

My research takes me to many different locales in the pursuit of interesting specimens to study. Through my work, I have been able to witness many wondrous sights, learn about incredible cultures and observe truly fascinating species. It is this passion that keeps me going no matter how much my roots may ache or my body tires. There is always more to see, more to learn, more to enjoy. Tracking down rare species, exploring remote ecosystems, it truly is a blessing. But sometimes....sometimes it is nice to get an easy one. While there are countless gifts that come from this line of work, there are days it gets quite tiring and difficult. Try hunting for a species that has only been spotted three times in twenty years. Try climbing frigid mountains or surviving sweltering deserts because the fauna here are barely studied. Try getting work done in a region where people won't stop stabbing each other for stupid reasons. It can get a bit taxing. That is one of the reasons I do appreciate studying megafauna. Indeed, the big beasts get a lot of attention and it is almost cliche to dive into something so obviously known. But you know what is nice? Knowing exactly where your specimens are. When you are studying something that big, you never have to worry about finding it. Want to find an Astergon, Chlora? Just follow the big ravaged path of broken trees limbs and churned dirt.

The Astergon is a terrestrial echinoderm that is known for its many limbs and impressive size. It is closely related to the seastars, but in this case it is a landstar! It stands out from its relatives due to its sheer size and incredible dimensions. While seastars tend to lay flat, this one...well it stands up. Rather than crawling along the ground with its body and tiny tube feet, its many arms have thickened to act as real legs. Wide petal-like structures at the tips of these trunk limbs function as feet, allowing it to stand tall and proud. Past this ring of large legs is another ring of thinner limbs. These ones are skinnier and have more hooked ends to them, which is used for manipulating food and protecting the fleshy serpentine mouth in the center. The Astergon's flexible maw is actually a specialized stomach that has protruded to act like an eating appendage. It has tooth-like structures ringing it, and possesses powerful muscles to help grind up food. While the false dentition of the creature looks impressive, its diet is nothing glorious or bloody.

Astergon lean more towards herbivory, targeting plants, stalks and buried tubers. As is slowly shambles across the land, its many arms help break and shake the vegetation. The skinny inner arms claw at plants to tear off leaves and fresh shoots, while its stomach mouth probes the disturbed soil looking for food underneath. While its maw is pointed downward, it is still capable of eating high up leaves and fruits, thanks to another set of long whip-like tentacles. These dexterous limbs are used for pulling down branches or plucking fruit, passing them down to the mouth underneath. The flexible trunk of a stomach is also capable of stretching out from the cover of its legs to accept these gifts or browse on its own. When it comes to what vegetation it specifically eats....it doesn't really matter. Astergon will devour anything it can get its tendrils on, not being picky with its food. Leaves, shoots, twigs, tubers or fruits, all are eaten. This also applies to carrion or animals that don't get out of the way. They don't hunt prey, but if they dig into a burrow that has a sleeping morsel in there, they don't hesitate.

Though the Astergon doesn't appear to have anything outside of limbs and a mouth, they are able to see and sense their environment. Their long whip-like arms are packed with receptors for picking up vibrations and scents. Ringing their large dome is also a bunch of stubby arms that have these smell sensors but also crude eyes. Their function is purely to steer this massive beast and direct them on the path of most food. Once they know a direction, they slowly shamble their way across the land, tearing through environments like a siege weapon. While this destruction may seem bad from the looks of broken branches and torn up ground, it is actually important for shaping the land and disturbing environments to stimulate new growth.

With their size and obvious paths, there is no hiding the Astergon. If one is nearby, every animal and sapient plant for miles around know it. Thus they cannot avoid predators by being stealthy, but that isn't necessary. Not only are they huge beasts to challenge, but their hides are very tough with layers of bony ossicles. I don't think you could bite through that even if it let you. And indeed it will not allow you a chance to snack, as those tendrils I keep describing as whip-like can do the thing I keep saying. The crack that comes from one of those things striking is like thunder, and if it hits you, say goodbye to a chunk of your body. For hardy foes, it leaves a nasty wound, for smaller ones, they just kinda....pop. The force they can exert is staggering, and you never want to be on the receiving end of it. "Gentle giant" is not a term I would use here. Sure, they don't actively seek to harm, but that doesn't mean you can walk up and start poking.

For people who like peaceful forests and stable lands, the Astergon is not a species for them. They rip through the land, almost uncaring to what is around them. Food is the one thing on their mind, and a farmer's field or a bountiful market may be a tempting offer. At such a size, it is very hard to tell them "no," so there have been numerous confrontations with these landstars. Warding them off isn't exactly easy, what with the points I mentioned earlier. Arrows do nothing, blades involve getting within whip range. Magic and poisons have been utilized, which is unfortunate because killing one of these titans is a major loss. They are valuable parts of their ecosystem, no matter how destructive they may seem. Also, there is little to gain from slaying one. Their meat is spongy and kinda gross, so folks don't like to eat them. Their hides do make for some good material, but it is difficult to properly work with. Some folk have taken their whips to use as actual whips, but that is more a trophy than useful tool. Thankfully, efforts by local researchers are being made to learn how to better deter these behemoths, and ensure they stay away from places they don't belong. Heh, I wonder how many people wish someone made a deterrent for me! "Something to keep that nosy dryad away!" I imagine they yell! Though I guess if you told someone you were making dryad repellent, it would come off pretty racist...

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

------------------------

"Astergon"

Whatwhatwhat? A size comparison dryad? A simple silhouette to help the readers understand the scale of the creature pictured? Incredible stuff! I am sure that would be an incredibly useful thing to have and use!*

*Disclaimer: He never drew one ever again.

[randomx123]

Wait, so Mohini is Vishnu? But is she part of the Dashavatar?

No

Maybe it's cuz Vishnu can take the form of Mohini even as one of his Avatars (well, atleast as Krishna...)

She's kinda like Hayagriva, Navagunjara or Gandaberunda in that regard

There's also this one mention in Wikipedia about Tripura Sundari blessing Vishnu with the beauty He had as Mohini, so I guess that makes Her less of an Avatar and more of a bestowed form

Basically, one way to remember the Dashavatar order is to remember how life evolved: From water to terrestrial beasts to wild man to civilized man to Whatever happens in the future

(The eighth and ninth ones are disputed, but eh...)

[dabiconcordia]

"The Darkling Thrush"

I leant upon a coppice gate     When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter's dregs made desolate     The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky     Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh     Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be     The Century's corpse outleant, His crypt the cloudy canopy,     The wind his death-lament. The ancient pulse of germ and birth     Was shrunken hard and dry, And every spirit upon earth     Seemed fervorless as I.

At once a voice arose among     The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong     Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small     In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul     Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings     Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things     Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through     His happy good-night air Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew     And I was unaware. By Thomas Hardy

[apiswitchcraft]

orphic hymns to Prosperine and Pluto

i should mention that i did NOT write these!! they are from like the 1st century AD lol

PROSPERINE:

Daughter of Jove, almighty and divine, come, blessed queen, and to these rites incline:

Only-begotten, Pluto's honored wife, O' venerable Goddess, source of life:

'Tis thine in earth's profundities to dwell, fast by the wide and dismal gates of hell:

Jove's holy offspring, of a beauteous mien, fatal, with lovely locks, infernal queen:

Source of the Furies, whose blest frame proceeds from Jove's ineffable and secret seeds:

Mother of Bacchus, Sonorous, divine, and many-formed, the parent of the vine:

The dancing Hours attend thee, essence bright, all-ruling virgin, bearing heavenly light:

Illustrious, horned, of a bounteous mind, alone desired by those of mortal kind.

O, vernal queen, whom grassy plains delight, sweet to the smell, and pleasing to the sight:

Whose holy form in budding fruits we view, Earth's vigorous offspring of a various hue:

Espoused in Autumn: life and death alone to wretched mortals from thy power is known:

For thine the task according to thy will, life to produce, and all that lives to kill.

Hear, blessed Goddess, send a rich increase of various fruits from earth, with lovely Peace;

Send Health with gentle hand, and crown my life with blest abundance, free from noisy strife;

Last in extreme old age the prey of Death, dismiss we willing to the realms beneath,

To thy fair palace, and the blissful plains where happy spirits dwell, and Pluto reigns.

PLUTO:

Pluto, magnanimous, whose realms profound are fix'd beneath the firm and solid ground,

In the Tartarian plains remote from fight, and wrapped forever in the depths of night;

Terrestrial Jove, thy sacred ear incline, and, pleased, accept thy mystic's hymn divine.

Earth's keys to thee, illustrious king belong, its secret gates unlocking, deep and strong.

'Tis thine, abundant annual fruits to bear, for needy mortals are thy constant care.

To thee, great king, Avernus is assigned, the seat of Gods, and basis of mankind.

Thy throne is fixed in Hades' dismal plains, distant, unknown to rest, where darkness reigns;

Where, destitute of breath, pale specters dwell, in endless, dire, inexorable hell;

And in dread Acheron, whose depths obscure, earth's stable roots eternally secure.

O' mighty dæmon, whose decision dread, the future fate determines of the dead,

With captive Proserpine, through grassy plains, drawn in a four-yoked car with loosened reins,

Rapt over the deep, impelled by love, you flew 'till Eleusina's city rose to view;

There, in a wondorous cave obscure and deep, the sacred maid secure from search you keep,

The cave of Atthis, whose wide gates display an entrance to the kingdoms void of day.

Of unapparent works, thou art alone the dispensator, visible and known.

O' power all-ruling, holy, honored light, thee sacred poets and their hymns delight:

Propitious to thy mystic's works incline, rejoicing come, for holy rites are thine.

Dividers by @vibeswithrenai