#the Greek and Roman forms of the gods have been bonding over the relationship

[dclovesdanny]

Percy Jackson x Dead on Main

Jason, son of Athena, has been living in Camp Half Blood since he was 14. He had been through both of the wars as a soldier and strategist (though a lot of people assumed he was an Ares or Nemesis kid after his growth spurt.) He was now 19, and had been drafted as one of the representatives of the Athena Cabin in the camper exchange. He wasn’t expecting much from the trip, especially not a cute boy who introduced himself as one of the centurions of the fifth cohort.

Danny, legacy of Thanatos, Venus, and Vulcan, had fought in both wars. (though he wasn’t exactly involved much with Octavian outside of some misunderstandings that lead to a large portion of the monsters Octavian had hired being turned to dust) He was now eighteen, and part of the welcoming committee for the Greek transfer students.

Neither of them realized it, but both were quite well liked. More than half of Camp Halfblood had fought beside Jason, and at least two thirds of the camp had had Jason at their side as they mourned their fallen cabin members. More than 80% of New Rome owed one of the Fenton’s their lives.

Everyone watching them realized this relationship could make or break the relationships between the camps. Including the gods watching.

More facts for this au under the cut.

Every resident of New Rome had either interacted with Maddie Fenton (legacy of Venus, daughter of Thanatos, former centurion of the second cohort for five years), Jack Fenton (son of Vulcan, master engineer, inducted into the third cohort at 11), Jazz Fenton (served for a while in the fourth cohort, on track to be a therapist for demigods) or Danny.

Maddie was raised in New Rome. Her great grandmother was the daughter of Venus, and is famous for killing over fifty Cyclopes who attempted to kill a demigod (said demigod is the ancestor of Julia).

Jack was brought up by his uncle in Illinois and found out about his heritage after an incident with a hydra. He found his way to camp and ended up killing several monsters along the way.

Vlad is a descendant of Apollo and is Octavian’s second cousin (might be the wrong wording, Octavian’s mom is Vlad’s cousin).

Dick is a Hermes kid and is another representative that came along.

Sam is a descendant of Proserpine (idk how to spell it, Roman version of Persephone)

Bruce is an adult demigod who lives outside of camp and works with Chiron. He’s a grandson of Aphrodite (Thomas’s mom) and Athena (Martha’s mom).

Let me know if you want more of this au

[fantasticbean]

The Nymph and the Sea I.

Authors note: Okay so… this is my first fanfic for reals reals. Nothing in here is historically accurate, it is just based in greek mythology for funsies and Roman clearly gives off vibes of a powerful entity, so with that said don’t take any of this plot as genuine facts. I enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it :) ALSO there will be smut but for now I’m just trying to develop the characters and the plot SO BEAR WITH ME.

Warnings: Minor Character death, animal death, blood, emotional abuse, toxic “mother” and daughter relationships. It is Ancient Greece people, there will be weird things going on. If I missed something let me know :p

Word count: 4,508 (got a little carried away hehe)

Pairing: Roman Reigns as Poseidon x Maleina (OC) Love Nymph

Chapter I. The Creation

Maleina, the tender-eyed nymph with the glowing purple gaze, was no ordinary creation. Crafted by the divine hands of Aphrodite, she was destined to carry the power of love, a living embodiment of the arrows shot by what mortals called Cupid. Her origins were as divine as her purpose, woven together one fateful night beneath the moonlit sky over Corinth. Aphrodite had long shared a passionate bond with Dionysus, the god of wine and revelry, and that evening, their union became the subject of much divine entertainment. The gods of Olympus, known for their indulgent voyeurism, watched eagerly as the pair gave themselves over to love and lust in a display that was meant to captivate them all.

Aphrodite, ever the showwoman, was determined to leave an indelible impression, to give her audience something worthy of their gaze. As she and Dionysus reveled in their moment, a new creation was born—a nymph whose beauty and power would echo through the heavens. The gods, enthralled by the spectacle, knew that Maleina would be no ordinary being.

Her form was an exquisite masterpiece. Apollo, the god of the sun and arts, nearly fell to his knees at the sight of her—so breathtaking was her beauty that he had a statue crafted in her likeness, one so flawless it would become the pinnacle of artistic reverence. Her hair, dark as the midnight sky, cascaded in soft waves, and her lips, full and beguiling, resembled the finest of Dionysus’s wine—sweet, intoxicating, and irresistible. Her skin shone with the glow of the full moon, luminous and ethereal, and her smile revealed teeth so perfect they could only have been sculpted by Poseidon himself, the god of the seas, whose skill in crafting beauty was unmatched. Even Hades, the god of the underworld, known for his usually impassive demeanor, sighed dreamily as she stepped into the room. Maleina’s presence was magnetic, her beauty transcendent, and the gods, one by one, acknowledged her as Aphrodite’s greatest creation.

And as if to crown her perfection, Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and protector of women, bestowed upon Maleina a final, unforgettable gift: a pair of violet eyes—eyes that held the power to awaken deep love and desire in those who gazed into them. The gods, from Zeus to Hecate, each saw something unique in her, something they had never witnessed before. Her eyes were not merely beautiful; they were a force of nature, a weapon of love itself.

It was the gods’ unanimous decision that Maleina would serve her creator’s will, tasked with wielding the power of Aphrodite’s arrows, binding mortals to the whims of love. But more than that, she would stand apart from the other nymphs, her allure unmatched, her powers unparalleled. Maleina was not just a messenger of love—she was its embodiment, the embodiment of divine passion and desire.

“You’re the embodiment of love and desire Dear,” Aphrodite said once Maleina was wrapped in soft silk gowns “With your gift you’ll grant us a future of many mortals to come and populate this earth but you should not indulge yourself with them.”

Those were the first words Maleina had ever heard: Bring love to others, but never to yourself. As the years passed, the weight of that command grew heavier. Maleina carried her quiver of arrows with grace, yet the burden they represented was one she felt deeply. Her existence was defined by bringing love and desire into the lives of mortals while denying herself the same. She could witness love in its purest, most fervent forms, but she was forbidden to partake, her duty bordering on punishment.

Maleina’s first encounter with love—true, unbidden love—was one she would never forget. It happened when she was tasked with a simple mission: to strike a mortal boy with her arrow, binding him to his childhood friend. She had seen him by the riverbank, his brown hair catching the golden light, his pearly blue eyes reflecting the water’s shimmer. He was a warrior, strong and proud, and wholly forbidden.

Curiosity rooted her in place as she watched him strip off his tunic, revealing a sun-kissed body carved by years of labor and training. Though she was a nymph, created from divine hands, she was still a creature of flesh and emotion. A warmth stirred deep within her, a sensation foreign and consuming. Her heart quickened, her body heated as if Hephaestus himself had stoked a flame within her very being.

Maleina hesitated. Her task was clear, her creator’s command absolute: bind him to another, and leave. But her hand faltered, the arrow never released. She fled, overwhelmed and terrified—not just by her feelings but by what Aphrodite’s wrath might bring. Love and chaos were two sides of her maker’s coin, and Maleina dared not challenge her. The consequences for disobedience were severe, and the goddess’s fury was a force even the gods themselves feared.

That night, Maleina returned to the temple in disarray. The image of the warrior haunted her thoughts, his laughter and form etched into her memory. She sat by the fountain, her feet submerged in the cool water, seeking solace in its stillness. Her sister Liv approached, her rosy cheeks tinged with cold and mischief.

“What’s spinning in that pretty head of yours?” Liv teased, her tone playful as always. Liv was unlike Maleina in every way—a vibrant soul full of theatrics and charm, the life of every gathering. She was a favorite at Apollo’s feasts and often found herself entwined in the schemes of Hermes’s sons. Yet, her teasing was tempered by an innate loyalty to her sister.

Maleina hesitated but finally spoke, her voice soft and uncertain. “Something… strange happened to me.” She leaned her head to the side, her gaze fixed on the rippling water. “I think I got too confident in my abilities.”

Liv raised a brow, her grin mischievous. “You mean you fucked someone?”

“No, you moron!” Maleina hissed, kicking water at her sister, her face flushing with embarrassment. “But it crossed my mind.”

Liv laughed, throwing her head back before leaning closer, her expression both amused and serious. “Well, I’ll be damned. The one who can’t fall in love… fell in love.”

Maleina shot her a sharp glare, placing a finger to her lips. “Liv! Someone might hear you.”

“Fine,” Liv said, lowering her voice but frowning deeply. “But did you…?” she asked again, her meaning clear, sex.

Maleina shook her head. The feeling had consumed her, burned through her in a way she had never experienced. And yet, she had resisted. It felt unfair—no, cruel—to be made a vessel of love and desire yet denied the ability to feel it freely.

Liv’s smile faltered as she studied her sister’s conflicted face. Maleina’s thoughts were a storm of lust, shame, and longing, a war between duty and the desires she had been forbidden to explore.

How unfair, she thought bitterly, to give love to others and never receive it for herself.

“I’ll be fine,” Maleina convinced herself “It won’t happen again. First thing tomorrow I will be done with it.”

“You know,” Liv said with a mischievous smirk, her tone dripping with devilish charm, “the instructions are to never fall in love. It doesn’t say entanglement is prohibited.”

Maleina rolled her eyes, the burden of her overthinking clashing with Liv’s careless temptations. “That’s not how it works, Liv,” she replied, though her voice lacked conviction. Her sister’s words lingered in her mind longer than she’d care to admit.

The next morning, Maleina found herself once again at the riverbank, her target in sight. The warrior stood near the water’s edge, cleaning his sword with quiet precision. His soaked tunic clung to his body, every muscle defined by the morning light. Maleina’s fingers tightened on the golden string of her bow, ready to complete her task.

But then, the rustling of leaves drew her attention. Her sharp eyes caught the movement first—a lion, stalking through the brush, its hungry gaze fixed on the man. The predator crept closer, its intent clear. Maleina’s breath hitched. She saw the warrior turn, his body shifting into a defensive stance. He was prepared, but what could a mortal do against an apex predator in its domain? It wasn’t a fair fight.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up. The arrow meant for the man flew through the air, striking the lion directly in the eye. The beast roared in pain and collapsed, its death immediate.

The warrior stood frozen, his sword lowered as he stared at the lifeless lion. Confusion clouded his features, and his sharp blue eyes scanned the surrounding trees. “Who’s there?” he called, his voice steady but wary. “Show yourself.”

Maleina’s heart raced. She hadn’t planned for this. She could have vanished, dissolved back into the safety of the trees, but something held her there. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped out of the shadows.

Her silk gown shimmered as if woven from moonlight, its deep purple hue mirroring the color of her eyes. Golden cuffs adorned her wrists, catching the sunlight, and her presence radiated an ethereal glow. The warrior’s jaw dropped as he took her in.

Surely, he thought, she was no mere woman. The way her beauty defied mortal comprehension, the way her very being seemed to command the air around her—he was convinced he stood before the goddess of beauty herself.

“Who are you?” he whispered, his voice soft, reverent, as if afraid to shatter the illusion.

Maleina’s lips parted, but she hesitated. Her mind raced with excuses, with answers, but none seemed to suffice. Instead, she simply stood there, her amethyst gaze meeting his.

“My name’s Maleina,” she said, her voice soft and low, like the whisper of a breeze through the trees. The sound ignited a flicker of something unnameable in Marcus’s chest, a heat that spread like wildfire.

“Marcus,” he replied, still unable to tear his gaze from her. It was as if his very soul feared she might vanish if he blinked. “Thank you, for, you know…” He motioned awkwardly toward the lifeless lion, the predator that had moments ago been his death sentence.

“You’re welcome,” Maleina replied, her tone measured and distant, uncertain of what else to say. Her gaze lingered for a beat longer than necessary before she turned, her movements graceful yet hurried. “Well, see you around,” she added, her words rushed as though she needed to escape.

“Hey! Wait!” Marcus’s voice rang out, desperation thick in his tone. He couldn’t let her leave—not yet, not so soon. His feet carried him forward instinctively, heart hammering in his chest as he tried to hold on to the moment.

Maleina stopped but didn’t turn immediately. Her shoulders stiffened as the weight of her actions replayed in her mind. She had already gone too far, broken unspoken rules she had followed since her creation. This was bad, worse than she’d anticipated. She needed to leave and never look back.

Still, she turned, her face unreadable, though her violet eyes betrayed the storm of emotions swirling within.

“A-Are you from around here?” Marcus asked, his voice unsteady yet earnest. For the first time in his life, he felt like a boy again—nervous, uncertain, with his heart thundering in his chest.

Maleina hesitated. She could feel the pull, the dangerous thread tying her to this moment. “No,” she finally said, the word clipped but soft. Her mind screamed at her to disappear, to let the forest swallow her whole before things spiraled further out of control.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she let herself linger just a moment longer, watching Marcus as he stood there, looking at her as if she were the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen. And perhaps, in that fleeting moment, she allowed herself to feel extraordinary, too.

And so, the man Maleina once observed from behind the trees became her secret companion—a bond forged in stolen moments and hidden from the eyes of gods and mortals alike. Marcus, the warrior with a chiseled body and a heart softer than he’d admit, became her solace. He was a man of gentle humor and fierce loyalty, his strength honed not for glory but for survival. Every coin he earned went to care for his mother and younger sister, who lived by the coast of Argos.

Through him, Maleina came to know pieces of his world. She learned of Aria, the woman who had once been his promised wife, whose destiny Maleina had quietly shifted with her bow. Instead of binding Marcus and Aria together, the nymph had paired her with an older artisan from the village, a match that had blossomed into a quiet, happy life. Yet, the knowledge weighed heavy on Maleina’s shoulders. She had altered Marcus’s path, stolen his future in the name of her own selfish desires.

Still, guilt melted away each time they met by the small temple near the riverbank—their hidden haven. It was a place untouched by time, where the only witnesses to their stolen moments were the whispering trees and the murmuring water.

Marcus never questioned her origins. He didn’t need to. To him, she was Maleina, the mysterious daughter of a wealthy merchant, a woman of ethereal beauty and elusive grace who allowed him to share her time. She never corrected his assumptions. It was safer that way—for both of them.

But as the months passed, and their connection deepened, Maleina found herself tethered to him in a way that frightened her. Each smile, each lingering touch, each stolen glance was a defiance of her purpose, a rebellion against the rules set by her maker. She knew Aphrodite’s wrath was as swift as it was merciless.

Yet, she couldn’t stop.

In Marcus’s company, Maleina felt something she had never known—a sense of belonging, a warmth that seeped into her very being. He looked at her not as a creation of divine perfection, but as a woman. And for the first time, she allowed herself to believe she was one.

Everything crumbled like a fragile sandcastle swept by a tidal wave. Nia, daughter of Thalassa and one of Poseidon’s loyal creations, had stumbled upon a tragedy at sea—a sight so harrowing it sent ripples of fury through the realms. Aria, a devoted wife and mother, lay lifeless along with her children, their bodies adrift on the salt-laden waves. The crime was heinous, committed by none other than Aria’s husband, whose heart Maleina’s arrow had forcefully turned. A bond meant to bloom with love had ended in bloodshed, a perversion of destiny itself.

This unnatural tragedy ignited chaos in the underworld, shaking its dark foundations and compelling Hades himself to rise from his shadowed throne. His demands for answers echoed through Olympus until they reached Poseidon’s halls. The Sea God, his rage like a brewing storm, dispatched Nia to uncover the source of this upheaval. Her investigation led her to a secluded riverbank where she found the culprit: Maleina, cradled in the arms of Marcus, her forbidden mortal lover.

It was in that moment that the truth struck Maleina with unbearable clarity. This tragedy was her doing, her defiance of her sacred duty unraveling the delicate threads of fate. The illusion she had so recklessly spun was now collapsing around her, its remnants sharp enough to wound not just her heart, but the very order of the divine.

The wrath of Aphrodite was swift and merciless. Her arrival was a storm of beauty and fury, her golden form shimmering with a light so intense it demanded reverence and fear. Her voice, a venomous blend of rage and disappointment, cut through Maleina’s trembling defenses.

“Can’t you see what you’ve done?” Aphrodite’s words dripped with accusation, her gaze like a dagger aimed at the nymph’s soul. “You’ve disrupted nature’s sacred order. And in Poseidon’s domain, of all places.”

Maleina stood frozen, the weight of her actions crushing her spirit. Her voice, when it came, was small and broken. “I just wanted to know what it feels like…”

Aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, her divine temper teetering on the edge of a violent eruption. She stepped closer, her presence a suffocating reminder of Maleina’s failure. “To feel what, Maleina?”

The nymph’s violet eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her answer was a whisper, fragile yet heavy with the longing that had driven her to defy the gods. “Love.”

The single word hung in the air, a confession that burned through the tension like a stray ember on dry parchment. Maleina’s heart shattered further as she realized that, in her quest to feel love, she had sown only destruction. The silence that followed was unbearable, filled with the unspoken weight of her punishment yet to come.

Aphrodite turned her back on Maleina, her movements elegant yet unnervingly cold as she walked to her gilded throne. The air in the chamber shifted, heavy and foreboding, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. With a simple snap of her fingers, two guards entered the room, dragging a limp and bloodied figure between them.

Maleina's heart dropped, her knees buckling as she recognized him.

"Marcus!" she cried, rushing forward, only to be stopped mid-step by an invisible force. Aphrodite's power pinned her in place, her outstretched hands trembling as she watched the guards drop Marcus to the floor. His body crumpled, legs dragging uselessly, his face battered and bruised beyond recognition. Blood trailed from his lips, his once-bright blue eyes barely open.

"No, no, no, please!" Maleina begged, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Don't hurt him! This isn't his fault!"

Aphrodite turned slowly, her expression devoid of sympathy. "Do you think the gods care about fault, child?" Her voice was sharp, laced with venom. "This was not my choice, but the balance must be restored. I follow orders as you should have."

Maleina fought against the unseen force, desperate to reach Marcus. "I'll fix it! I'll do anything! Please, just let him go!"

Aphrodite's gaze hardened. "You already had your chance. You chose defiance, and now you will learn the cost of disobedience."

At her signal, the guard nearest to Marcus unsheathed a blade, its edge glinting cruelly in the dim light. Maleina's screams pierced the chamber as she fought with every ounce of her strength, but she couldn't move.

"No! Stop!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Please, I love him!"

The words hung in the air like a fragile confession, but they did nothing to soften the goddess's resolve. The blade descended, sinking into Marcus's chest with brutal finality.

The sound of steel meeting flesh seemed to echo endlessly. Maleina's body froze, her mind unable to comprehend the sight of Marcus's blood spilling onto the floor, pooling beneath him. Time slowed as the guard stepped back, leaving the mortal slumped over, his life draining away.

With a snap, Aphrodite released her hold, and Maleina collapsed to the floor beside Marcus. She gathered his broken body in her arms, cradling him as though her touch could keep him tethered to the world.

"Marcus," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Stay with me, please. Don't leave me."

His eyes fluttered open briefly, the light in them dim but still holding her gaze.

"Maleina..." he rasped, his voice barely audible. "I would... do it all again... for you."

Her tears fell freely, mixing with the blood staining his chest. "I'm sorry," she choked out, pressing her forehead to his. "I'm so sorry."

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and then he was gone. His body stilled, the warmth fading from his skin. Maleina clung to him, her sobs racking her body as her world shattered around her.

Aphrodite watched in silence, her expression as cold and unyielding as marble.

When she spoke, her words cut like a blade. "This is the price of your selfishness. Love is not yours to claim, Maleina. It is yours to give, nothing more."

Maleina's grip on Marcus's lifeless form tightened as Aphrodite motioned for the guards. They seized the nymph, pulling her away despite her cries and thrashing.

Her lover's blood stained her hands and gown, a haunting reminder of what she had lost.

The once vibrant and flourishing world of Corinth slowly decayed, the land withered beneath the weight of Maleina’s sorrow. The nymph, the embodiment of love, now imprisoned in her temple by Aphrodite, could no longer summon the power that once made hearts dance with desire. Her soul mourned the loss of Marcus, the mortal whose love she had so fiercely longed to taste, but now, that love was nothing but ashes in the wind.

Years passed in her isolation, a never-ending cycle of grief and longing. The temple walls, once radiant with the energy of her presence, now stood dark and cold, mirroring the void inside her heart. The nymph could no longer perform the duties she was created for, her once-bright purple eyes dull with the weight of despair. Aphrodite, though unforgiving, had left her with one instruction: to heal.

But how could a nymph of love heal when love had been taken from her so cruelly?

Meanwhile, on the shores of Corinth, the consequences of her actions were felt by mortals and gods alike. Without Maleina’s arrows to ignite the fires of passion, the world fell into chaos. Wars erupted over power, hearts grew cold, and the once harmonious relationships between gods and mortals began to fray. Even Poseidon, ruler of the seas, felt the shift—a disturbance in the natural order of things. His domain, once teeming with life and love, now felt eerily empty.

The land that once thrived on the affection and desires of its people now stood as a barren wasteland, much like Maleina’s heart—silent, aching, and devoid of the very essence that kept it alive.

Aphrodite watched from her celestial throne, a quiet anger brewing within her. She had created Maleina to be the ultimate agent of love, but the nymph had betrayed that creation by indulging in emotions she was not meant to experience. Yet, the goddess of love knew that even the gods were not immune to the consequences of love—destruction and creation alike.

The goddess of love and war leaned back in her golden throne, her expression unreadable, as the towering figure of Poseidon entered the temple. His presence was commanding, the air thickening around him as though the very sea followed in his wake. His long, dark hair cascaded like a storm, and his eyes—deep, cold, and endless as the ocean—locked onto hers without hesitation.

The goddess of love had never been one to be shaken, yet she could feel the weight of his arrival, the immense power he exuded.

“Roman,” she said, her voice cool, though the surprise in it was undeniable. “What brings you here?”

Poseidon’s gaze remained impassive, his tone as harsh as a crashing wave. “A proposition,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Aphrodite’s brow arched. “A proposition?” She tilted her head slightly, studying him. Poseidon was a god of the sea, not one to venture far from his domain, and certainly not to the temple of love. His motives were always shrouded in mystery. But today, there was no mirth or intrigue in his eyes, only cold purpose.

He took a single step forward, his tall, broad form filling the space. “The world is drowning in chaos, Aphrodite. The mortal realm is devoid of balance. And your precious creation—Maleina—has strayed too far. Her weakness has infected the world.”

Aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, though she kept her composure. “You speak as if you know what love is. What do you understand of it, Poseidon?”

Poseidon’s eyes flickered with a glint of something fierce—something dangerous, like the deep sea itself. “Love is a force of nature, like the tides. It cannot be controlled, only guided. You have let it run wild, and now the storm you’ve created threatens everything.”

Aphrodite’s lips curled into a thin smile, though there was no amusement in it. “So you’ve come to fix it? Do you think you can restore what I have built?” Her gaze flickered to Maleina’s shadowed figure in the distance, a silent reminder of the chaos that had ensued.

Poseidon’s voice grew colder, his eyes unwavering. “I don’t intend to restore what you’ve built. I intend to erase it. Maleina must return to her original purpose—no more distractions, no more false desires. She will remember who she is. Her love must not be wasted.”

Aphrodite’s breath caught, but she did not flinch. “And what makes you think you can accomplish this?”

“I will take her to my domain,” Poseidon said, his voice devoid of warmth. “I will cleanse her of your influence, restore balance, and let the tides of love once again flood the world. In return, I ask for one thing: permission to wield your power where it has been lost, to guide the broken hearts of mortals back to their true course.”

Aphrodite considered his words, her heart betraying her only for a moment. Poseidon was not here for power or gain; he was here to set things right, in his own ruthless way. He was a god of the sea, and he understood the balance of nature as no one else could.

“Very well,” she said, her voice as cold as the marble beneath her. “But know this, Poseidon: Maleina is no ordinary nymph. She was made for love, but love can break as easily as it can heal. You may find her more dangerous than you realize.”

Poseidon did not flinch. “I am not afraid of what I must do,” he said, his voice firm, unwavering. “You created her to guide love, Aphrodite. I will make her remember her true purpose, even if it means destroying the illusions she clings to.”

Aphrodite’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, her thoughts swirling. She had never seen Poseidon so determined, so utterly cold in his conviction. But in that moment, she realized that he was the only one who could undo the mess she had created.

“Go then,” Aphrodite said, her tone final. “But if you fail, it will be on your head.”

Poseidon’s lips barely twitched in acknowledgment, “I do not fail,” he said, turning away from her, his form already shifting toward the exit.

“Prepare yourself, Aphrodite. The tides are changing.”

And with that, the god of the sea left the temple, his presence like a distant thunderstorm on the horizon. Poseidon was not a god who dealt in mercy or second chances, but perhaps, just perhaps, he was the only one who could right the wrongs of the love she had forged.

As the doors closed behind him, Aphrodite’s gaze turned to where Maleina's last moments were—still broken, still lost in the chaos she had created—and she wondered what would become of the nymph now that Poseidon had entered the picture.

[hexandbalances]

Excerpts from the above article:

The Grimaldi Goddess clay figurine, unearthed at the Neolithic settlement of Çatal Hüyük in Turkey, dates back to about 6000 BC. It depicts an obese woman giving birth while seated upon a throne. Although many have considered this a sure sign of feminine fertility, many scholars have dismissed the two massive dog-like beasts sitting by her side. The focus has continued being about sexual reproduction symbols, rather than her role in dog domestication and dominance over woman’s best and most loyal friend.

In northern Israel, archaeologists discovered the remains of a 12,000-year-old Natufian woman with her hand resting on a pet puppy, at the ‘Ain Mallaha site. This is one of the first known remains related to dog domestication. (The Israel Museum, Jerusalem ) 

At an excavation site near Lake Baikal in Siberia, the archaeologist and geneticist Andrea Waters Rist from Leiden University discovered two 8,000-year-old skeletal remains of Neolithic Siberian women carrying signs of the parasitic infection known as echinococcosis. This disease occurs when humans have long interaction and contact with canines through the sharing of food, water, and in some instances from being exposed to canine fecal matter. Waters-Rist’s analysis concludes that ancient Siberian women of this forgotten tribe might have been responsible for the caring, feeding, and rearing of dogs. Within every culture, there is distinct evidence that women were significant to the rearing and training of dogs. Shortly after the domestication of the dog, humans lived side by side with these animals, considered them equals, and depended on them for protection and assistance in their everyday lives. According to scholars such as Waters-Rist, it is therefore not surprising that humans would also endure the same sicknesses as well. As time went on, dogs were reared by both men and women, and they eventually became part of the family unit across many cultures. Without the friendship and alliance of dogs, there would be no human civilization. This fact must have been well understood in the ancient world, as there are several goddesses associated with dogs. Could these dog-friendly deities provide clues to the relationship between women and dogs?

Dog-Friendly Deities: Women and Dogs in Mythology

Aside from the Grimaldi Goddess figurine hypothesis previously mentioned, the list of gods who demonstrate a strong relationship with dogs include the goddess Gula, also known as Bau, Nintinugga, and Basat, who was often represented sitting near dogs. The goddess of dogs and healing, in her earliest form she was described as the dogs' controller, but she became associated with spells and healing in later years. Her temples were prevalent in Mesopotamia, Babylonia and Sumer, and stray dogs were allowed to roam within their walls. Altars at her temples were littered with dog statues, dedicated to her in the hope she would provide speedy recovery for loved ones. Her sacred symbol remained that of the dog until she was forgotten over time.

Left; Detail of the goddess  Nintinugga, her dog, and a  scorpion man from kudurru of Nebuchadnezzar granting Šitti-Marduk freedom from taxation. British Museum. ( CC BY-SA 4.0 ). Right Public Domain )

Other powerful mythical deities and goddesses were associated with hunting. The goddess Atalanta was often painted equipped with a bow, spear, and dogs, not to mention a severed boar head, representing luck with the hunt and fruitful prosperity. As the scholar Adrienne Mayor has mentioned, vase paintings depicted Amazon archers accompanied by dogs as they ran to battle or hunted. The eternal bond between women and dogs, especially on Greek vases, is evidence of an unbreakable connection. The goddess Artemis (Diana) is another deity which illustrates the connection between women, hunting and a feminine command over dogs, wolves, and animals. Another Greek goddess was Hecate, who was responsible for crossroads and entryways, as well as dogs. However, her depiction was far more sinister, as she represented the unpredictability of magic and spells. She was a shapeshifter, described as having three heads and was often responsible for dog barking, since they were obliged to announce her entrance anywhere she went.

Amongst the ancient Greeks, there are a few common themes related to women and dogs, in that their companionship was seen as old and mysterious, but beneficial for all. Much ancient Greek art portrays men hunting with hounds, but the representation of warrior women and ancient hunting deities could help shine a light on a past when women trained dogs for hunting and gathering.

There is not much evidence to speak for this hypothesis, besides some Greco-Roman art and a few Scythian warrior women gravesites with hounds. There is however significant evidence of women rearing and training dogs for the purpose of assisting in hunting and carrying supplies. The most extraordinary evidence can be seen with the ethnographic accounts of early North American Plains Indians as they spoke of the time before the arrival of Spanish horses.

Detail from a Karl Bodmer painting showing a dog with a travois in an Assiniboine camp in the Great Plains. ( Public domain )

Women and Dogs in North American Plains Indian Culture

The most famous account is from the Hidatsa elder Buffalo Bird Woman. In her stories from the past, she discusses the older way of life for women and dogs within the American Plains culture. Her account explains that even after incorporating horses, it was only the more affluent families that could afford to house them. Most families still relied heavily on dog transportation by way of travois, two-pole sleds used by North American Plains Indians to carry goods, and their brutal nomadic way of life.

She states that women were considered the owners of dogs. They were expected to raise them, clean them, and train them. Like in many other cultures, the methods for domesticating dogs revealed a selection process over generations favoring the more complacent over the vicious and mercurial. The most favorable of puppies had large round faces, big legs, and floppy ears. These traits revealed a loyal and happy dog that would grow up big. Puppies that did not meet these criteria were often killed or given away.

Her narrative involves women training the dogs in hauling weights, in order to get an adult canine ready and able to carry between 50 and 70 pounds (22 to 32 kilos) by travois. Once this task was completed, the dog would be used for multiple purposes. In some situations, anywhere from 20 to 70 dogs would be brought on hunts and expected to carry the processed buffalo meat back to camp without being tempted to eat any of it. Women would also take packs of between 12 and 20 dogs to collect firewood and supplies to sustain their families one month at a time. With every task given, it was still customary for a woman to care and equip the dogs, as well as ensure they were comfortable in their tasks.

According to Buffalo Bird Woman’s account, dogs would always follow in single file behind their women owners, and if any of the dogs tired, the women would know how to keep them encouraged. In the summer, women knew not to load dogs as heavily as in winter. This had to do with the heat and the friction from the ground. During winter, the weather and snow worked in a travois-pulling dog’s favor. It was also necessary for women to continue keeping the dogs hydrated throughout the day, for they were always in use.

[eynsavalow]

𝘾𝙚𝙡𝙩𝙞𝙘 𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩

So let me preface this my pointing out that as far as I’ve been able to gather Celtic culture while holding distinctive characteristics was extremely fluid in terms of cultural practice and politics. I have also taken the liberty of filling in certain gaps in our understanding that strictly speaking we have no way of confirming or understanding the cultural context for. I have listed my primary sources at the bottom of this post and will be reblogging whenever I add new resources or adjustment my headcanons based on new research or sources I find. Our knowledge of the Celts is continually evolving as is my own. 

In regards to terms I’m relying largely on Irish and Welsh as they’re the most relavant to the blog and will try to clarify which specific culture I am referring to within the context of my posts. 

Politics- Celtic politics were extremely fluid. In broad strokes Kings were elected by council though these elections were rarely peaceful with rival factions fighting until one proves victorious. Because of this the Celtic warrior class was extremely powerful with many kings being able to hold power based solely on bribing and offering monetary and other rewards to the warriors in their service. This is explicitly stated to be how Conchobar of Ulster remains in power in the Ulster Cycle. However it should be noted this practice did not guarantee loyalty. It seems to be be that the King was expected to provide for his warriors as well as his people because of social obligation while the Warrior class in particularly was free to leave and give their services to others if they received another offer or came to disprove of their current Ruler’s actions. This fluidity of loyalty seems to have been accepted and to a degree expected. 

Geas/ Geasa and Tynged/ Tynghedau- Perhaps tying into Celtic belief in social obligation a geas/tynged (geasa/ tynghedau are the Irish and Welsh plural forms). In broad strokes it seems to a kind of obligation that one can place on others or themselves as is the case with Cú Chulainn. Irish High Kings could have dozens or more there seems to be a correlation between one’s power/status and one’s number of geasa. I have taken it further by headcanoning that honoring and fulfilling one’s geasa adds to and builds up ones own power as it is frequently shown in Irish lore that violating one’s geasa will result in death or other misfortune. 

The Celtic Pantheon- I have posted about my take on Celtic mythology before >HERE< and >HERE< but suffice to say it is as fluid as Celtic culture and politics. But I want to be very adamant that I am not going to favor one group over the other. There has been a long and frankly very ugly history of dismissing Welsh, Irish and Scottish folk beliefs that I want to avoid perpetuating on this blog. NOTE: In terms of interaction I get the impression one was allowed to talk back to one’s gods and even correct their behavior much as warriors were allowed to do with their Kings.

Religious Practices- This is extremely tricky as most of what we’re given is vague and described by non- Celtic sources so most of what I’m about to describe is strictly headcanon based. All pools and bodies of water are believed to be doors to the Otherworld. It is therefor customary for Celts to provide an offering of some kind to bribe or get a deities attention. (Lancelot himself will use this as a means of communicating with his mother.) Birds are also seen as messengers between the human and Otherworld with sacrifices sometimes made to lure birds to a sites and then carry the prayers offered by the druids and supplicants back to the Gods. 

Heads- While an abundance of writing and other evidence exists that the Celts had some kind of Cult surrounding the head/brain we’re not particularly sure why. I’ve interpreted it that the Celts believed one’s soul/power resided in the head and that by taking and preserving the head or brain one was adding to one’s own as well as keeping your enemy from entering the Otherworld and reincarnating. 

Children- I am admittedly sorry for putting this under the rather graphic bullet point above. But the Celts were not like their neighbors Romans or Greeks and did not view their children as disposable. One was required to look after one’s children, the elderly and disabled. I can think of no better example of this than Amergin mac Eccit from the Ulster cycle who was unable to physically care for himself until his teens with his father Eccit going to extraordinary lengths to protect his son who is later described as a wise poet and warrior despite his disabilities. This is also why Lancelot insists on making Galahad his heir even if he struggles to form a bond with him as it is culturally unacceptable to him to not provide for him on some level. Children were also only considered illegitimate if no one claimed to be their father. 

Relationships/ Sexuality/ Gender Roles- This is likely the most difficult to headcanon and has required the biggest leaps on my part. But it seems to be that the Celts were comfortable and open with queer relationships an taking lovers outside of marriage with the upper classes in particular engaging in seemingly polyamorous unions. All sexes could become Druids or Warriors or even rule in their own right. Boudicca and Medb in the Ulster cycle are excellent examples of this. 

Sources

Cunliffe, Barry. The Ancient Celts. Oxford University Press, 1997.

Koch, John T., and John Carey, editors. The Celtic Heroic Age: Literary Sources for Ancient Celtic Europe & Early Ireland & Wales. Celtic Studies Publications, 2003.

Ginnell, Laurence. Brehon Laws: A Legal Handbook (3rd Ed.).

ANWYL, EDWARD. CELTIC RELIGION. BLURB, 1906.

Eickhoff, Randy Lee. The Red Branch Tales. Forge, 2004.

MacCullough, J. A. The Religion of the Ancient Celts. T & T Clark, 1911.

Paxton, Jennifer. “The Celtic World.” The Great Courses. The Celtic World, 2018. 

Andrews, Elizabeth. Ulster Folklore. Norwood Editions, 1975. 

Arnold, Matthew. On the Study of Celtic Literature, and, On Translating Homer. Macmillan, 1902. 

Leahy, Arthur Herbert. Heroic Romances of Ireland. D. Nutt, 1905. 

O'Rahilly, Cecile. Táin bó Cúalnge: From the Book of Leinster. Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies, 2004. 

[andthisiswitchcraft]

Familiars: what are they?

This is something that comes up every once in a while and lately has been coming up a lot, so we should discuss familiars. It is largely thanks to modern commercialization of misconceptions from the European witch trails that we get our current misunderstandings of familiars. So let's breakdown the history and perceptions of familiars to get a better grasp of them.

Familiars are a kind of tutelary spirit, a non-corporeal intelligence that a witch/magician summons and binds to themselves. In a way, they are like a servant to the witch, but under some conditions. For instance, the magician needs to appease their familiar to keep its company. If a familiar feels that the magician has violated the terms of their pact, they will leave and may even harm the magician. Likewise, if the magician were no longer happy with the services their familiar provided, or they felt their familiar was leading them into danger, they would banish them or call on another spirit to send it away forever. Ultimately, assuming a good bond has been made, the familiar will stay with the magician for the remainder of the magician's life, as familiars do not die. They're spirits, so they don't die. They will assist in magical practices, teach, heal, fetch money, fetch mightier spirits to help, et al. In return the magician will give shelter, food, water, and whatever else the witch-familiar compact may have an agreement on.

The oldest and closest thing we have to the modern idea of a familiar are the household gods of the ancient world. Even as cities developed, individual households had their own gods. It isn't until much later that we see cities and states develop their own "household gods" or gods of the city.

Prior to the Romans there does not seem to be much of a distinction between household gods and the larger religion gods. But the Romans had three different names for these sorts of spirits that give us some clear distinctions of the perceptions these people had of their gods: genius loci, dii familiares, and lares. The genii loci were "spirits of place," and were spirits that governed and protected a specific area, such as a neighborhood, a crossroad, a forest, etc. Genii loci that governed a household were called lares. These were the household gods that residents set up shrines to just inside the doorway, a common practice to this day. Then there were the dii familiares, which were something like the lares, but watched over the whole family, as the family did not always stay in the home, but expanded, moved, went to the market, etc. If these household gods were not kept happy, they would leave the house and family, leaving them unprotected, and may even come back to harm them.

We see evidence of this in the Bible, particularly in Genesis where Rachel steals her father's household idols. Eventually there would be state genii loci, lares, and dii familiares, such as Roma personified as a goddess in her own right. Hermes was also a genius loci, usually at crossroads. Enodia (Hecate) was another crossroads genius loci. However these two gods become more state religion deities with their servant spirits watching over crossroads. Jehovah is very much like this with the ancient Israelites, even having a pact, i.e. the Covenant, of which the Ark of the Covenant was a fetish object to house God.

However, truly the oldest idea of a familiar is the personal daimon or demon, a specific daimon that is assigned to each person at birth. The oldest complete example of conjuring a personal daimon is described in the first portion of the Greek Magical Papyri, a collection of magical spells and rites dating between 1st century BC to 5th century AD. This rite details how to conjure a daimon that will be bound to the magician, and will teach and guide them, dine and sleep with them, and be with them until the end of the magician's days. Socrates himself may have had something like this when he refers to his daimonion, a "divine something" that advised and guided him, but never controlling him.

This personal daimon becomes a central feature of western magic. In Byzantine magic, such as in the Hygromanteia, the daimon becomes something akin to the dii familiares, though distinctly personal to the magician and the same familiar can be passed from master magician to apprentice (such as Dr. Faustus to his pupil). All grimoires been the 13th and 18th centuries have a rite to conjure a familiar or to conjure a spirit to bring a familiar. A great example of this is in the Ars Goetia where several demons are listed as being good for bringing familiars. Similar examples are found in spirit registers such as in the Grimorium Verum. Even folk magic includes ways of gaining a familiar, and the rites are usually a lot more simple than the formal ceremonial magic of the Renaissance grimoires. These are found in various Secreti or books of secrets (see for instance Treatise of Magical Secrets and Mixed Cabala, trans. by Rankine and Skinner)

Our current conceptions of a familiar come from the witch trails of the 16th and 17th centuries. Prior to this time period magic was not exactly forbidden. Magic was usually something that was tacked onto other charges, usually treason. Since magicians held their reputations via rumors and recommendations, and rumors are what Oliver Cromwell sought to destroy, thus witchcraft enters the courtroom thanks to such rumors of magicians. As witchcraft becomes chargeable on its own in the 16th century, we see players like Matthew Hopkins enter the stage. These "witch hunters" were nothing more than opportunistic assholes who used Cromwell's methods of hunting via rumors. Anything could be used as evidence of a witch, and townsfolk often used these opportunities to get rid of someone they didn't like by accusing them of witchcraft. Most of the people, usually women, though there were plenty of men tried as well, who were accused of witchcraft were not actually witches. They could just be lonely old widows that have a dog or a cat to keep them company.

Familiars, or rather pets, were a common way of determining if someone was a witch, since that was part of being a witch. However, people back then had pets like anyone today. So these women who were seen as unusual and therefore a witch, had their pets used as evidence against them. And really, they were like many of us: they had a close relationship with their pets, talked to them, really cared for them, took them everywhere with them. This all sounds strangely like a familiar, and to opportunists like Hopkins, it was the perfect rumor to locate a "witch." But really it was just an excuse to kill a quirky old woman no one liked who lived alone and loved to talk to her birds, and someone else probably really wanted her land.

Much of this pet as a familiar has become sensationalized today. In a way, yes, you can conjure a familiar to inhabit the body of your pet. In the Renaissance, possessing an animal with a spirit was no big deal. Today that would probably be seen as unethical to your pet. But there really is no need for this, as a spirit will physically appear to a magician at their command, and can even take on familiar forms such as a dog if the magician requests it. It is not uncommon to see in Renaissance grimoires a portion of the conjuration includes the magician stating, "appear to me in a pleasing form."

Further, it's borderline animal abuse to truly treat your pet like a familiar. A lot of energy is exhausted by familiars to be your servant, but they're spirits and can usually handle it, and if they can't, they go get you a bigger stronger spirit to handle it. Pets cannot do that, and they shouldn't have to. To truly use your pet as a familiar will most likely harm them in the long run. Pets should be treated like family, not your magical teacher and conduit.

In practice, the familiar can be almost any kind of spirit. In the Abramelin rite the familiar is called the Holy Guardian Angel, a divine heavenly entity assigned to each person at birth. In the Faustian tradition, the demon Mephistopheles is Dr. Faustus's familiar. In the Christian tradition, the Holy Spirit acts as a sort of familiar to Jesus, assisting Jesus with his miracles, and according to Paul raised Jesus from death. But familiars can also be souls of the dead, such as ancestors. In fact, the lares and dii familiares may have been ancestors of that family/household that always stuck around to watch over everyone, and later became deified.

So while our pets are very important to us and can even be a bit magical, they are not the same as a familiar. And in many ways it's wrong to say they are. It takes something that was viciously used to torture and kill lonely old women and sensationalizes it into an aesthetic, rather than a way of life, a devotion, and a compact you keep and renew each and every day with the same entity. And to make your pet an actual familiar is abusive. Having a tutelary spirit (or several) is central to western magical practices, but it is not the same as having a pet. If you want to get a pet, get a pet. If you want a familiar, there are hundreds of ways to conjure one up and make a lifelong pact with it.

The reason this is important to understand and differentiate is so you become a better pet owner and a better witch.

Franklin

Image: Matthew Hopkins, "Witch Finder General" (a title he made up) investigating witches and their familiars.

[handlewithkara]

Just some more overly detailed thoughts on “my” Daxam, how I tend to write it. 

In a lot of ways, my stories are kind of related in a lot of ways. They aren’t really in the same universe or anything, but the vision I have of Daxam tends to be similar across my stories and a lot of ideas that get introduced in one story show up in other stories. Such as there being a a goddess of love and sex named Lirra. 

According to wikipedia there is Kryptonian goddess of beauty named Lorra. I changed it to Lirra to show that Kryptonians and Daxmites have modified versions of the same religion. Like ancient Romans and Greeks. 

Another concept that shows up in a lot of stories of mine is the concept that on Daxam children are sent to the temple of the goddess of love and sex to receive “practical” sex education. 

A lot of how I write Daxam is my probably spending way too much effort trying to fix that feel like plot holes in the show. I try to make some things fit in a way that makes sense to me. 

Such as Kara having heard of the prince but not reacting to Mon-El’s name. In Boy and His Comet the concept is done even more extreme with there also being a lot of body doubles. 

I suspect that the Daxam I write is a lot bleaker than what other people write. This mostly comes from me trying to create something that to me feels closest to a place that would explain how show!Mon-El seems to feel about Daxam. I see the following things as the cornerstones of show!Mon-El’s relationship with Daxam: 

He obviously spent most of his life “playing along” on Daxam

He kneejerk defends it when he and Kara first clash and Kara talks bad about it

What he said about drugs on Daxam

He seemed to fear or dislike his father more than his mother, even though Rhea clearly is more evil than Lar

He seemed very defeatist that Daxam could be changed. I read his speech to Lar more as a last ditch effort rather than something he really believes 

Based on how he was thrown in a cell, led away from his “wedding” to Lena, and of course attacked by other Daxamites during the big battle at the end of season , he clearly had no powerbase of his own

I guess in a lot of ways my Daxam is a bit my personal explanation for why show Mon-El didn’t want to go back to Daxam, as well as providing some explanation for the way Rhea and Lar interact with each other and how Mon-El relates to them. That’s why my stories tend to be sort of the antithesis of Mon-El as the cool all powerful, respected prince, why there are so many scenes in Boy and His Comet where Mon-El thinks his decisions at the council meetings might just get overruled. Or how he strongly suspects that people just won’t do what he says if they feel it’s a bad idea or not in the interest of the queen. 

In Boy and his Comet in particularly, Daxam is more like a really oppressive police state filled with people who want to claw their way to the top and all the sex and partying is really just a thin layer over it. I also have this headcanon which hasn’t explicitly shown up in any story yet (but would have shown up in Sky Without Stars) that the royal family takes a different brand of drugs that aren’t addictive the way the drugs of the regular population are (to explain why show!Mon-El didn’t show any major withdrawal symptoms). Also that Daxamite soldiers are always high with combat stimulants when they fight (in my head canon it improves their reaction times and makes them feel no remorse when killing, makes them all energetic and eager to fight and makes them feel no fear).  

Another concept that comes up in some of my stories or that at least is there underneath is that the reason why Mon-El isn’t already latched is because Rhea doesn’t want it. That as long as he isn’t latched he is essentially like a kid still living with his parents, but if he got latched, she would have to give him a house of his own, his own powerbase and Rhea doesn’t want that, because she is paranoid about competition (in my head canon she murdered some of her relatives to get on top, so Rhea’s ascent to power was somewhere between a grand love story and a successful coup, because she had the backing of the military). For what it’s worth, the Sky Without Stars headcanon is that Rhea is generally the sexually aggressive partner 98% of the time. In my headcanon Lar also sleeps around (but loves Rhea, or rather is addicted to her). Rhea to me actually has very little interest in other lovers (other than what she has to do because it is Daxamite custom), mostly because deep down she really only loves power and she “loves” Lar because he is the one who gave her power and she has particular interest in sleeping with anybody who has less power than Lar. That’s also why she is so quick to kill him when he threatens to get in her way. (that’s also why it’s my headcanon that Lar genuinely never seriously got in her way before and has always just let her do what she wants and supported her blindly) 

Another concept is that Rhea intentionally kept Mon-El away from Lar and essentially only brought Lar around when there were punishments to deal out. In Sky Without Stars in particular my headcanon is that Lar loved Rhea and she demanded of him that Mon-El must be hers and hers alone. 

I also have a headcanon pivotal moment to explain why Mon-El is so horrified by his father but that is in a chapter that has never been posted. I also tend to stay away from depictions where there was a lot of physical abuse, particularly not at the end of Lar. I tend to write the relationship between Mon-El and Lar as part giant misunderstanding (because Rhea lied to Mon-El about Lar) and part Lar turning a blind eye or ignoring Mon-El. I go back and forth on there having been physical abuse from Rhea, depending on the story but even if it’s there, I tend to write it as it being something relatively rare and the abuse is more emotional and in the form of mind fuckery. Some of that will show up in the next few chapters of Boy and His Comet. 

Speaking of which, there was actually a flashback to Mon-El’s childhood that I kept purposefully vague. It will also stay vague. But the explanation for it is that the woman who tried to kill Mon-El when he was a kid was a mistress of Lar. She managed to get herself pregnant (somehow circumventing the whole birth matrix thing) and out of anger Rhea poisoned her so she lost the child (that’s why there is blood on her dress when she comes after Mon-El). This scene was inspired by a scene from a historical fiction book on the Ottoman empire where the king’s favorite wife loses her child due to poisoning from the first wife. 

I also tend to headcanon that Rhea (despite the science expertise she showed on the show) as being a military person, a lot like Astra in season 1. After all she seemed to be in charge of the attack and she didn’t fear getting her hands dirty dueling with Kara. So in my headcanon she is the general of the troops and they adore her and are loyal only to her. In Sky Without Stars my headcanon is even that she “won” Lar because she was such a good warrior and conqueror (and by murdering the woman he was originally promised to). So I guess it is safe to say that I write Rhea was very violent and very ruthless.

I kind of expand this concept for me personally by writing Daxam as having a strong religious underpining. Now that part is really made up because there weren’t really a ton of signs that the Daxamites are very religious (other than Rhea saying For The Gods and I think the Daxamite ship had like these stone statues in them?) and of course most notably Mon-El isn’t very religious it seems. Still, because I personally like writing alien religions, I tend to write Daxam with these strong religious elements. In Sky Without Stars in particular the image in my mind was that in a way this is how Lar and Rhea distributed the work load, that Rhea is military and Lar acts as something like a high priest of their religion.

Of course the majority of my Daxamite headcanons concern sex and relationships. I freely admit a lot of these are mostly wild extrapolations in the interest of more porny setups. Such as there being lots of casual and very public sex (like Mon-El in Song of the Teacher mentioning that he saw his parents have sex in public to celebrate a great victory). 

Another concept that is there underneath in Boy and His Comet and that would have shown up in Song Of The Teacher is that Daxam is very much okay with same-sex sex (”the more, the merrier”) it actually would be heavily frowned on for anybody to be exclusively gay, or exclusively straight for that matter. This is kind of represented in Song Of The Teacher where Mon-El says that sex on Daxam is like shaking hands and it would be weird if you didn’t shake hands with somebody just because of their sex. This is in a way the underneath conflict of the two side characters in Boy and His Comet, that in this couple, one woman is pretty open about not having any use for men and her lover constantly has to smooth things over in that regard. And Mon-El is sort of being a pal by inviting them to threesomes where he doesn’t touch Raina (the exclusively lesbian one) and in that way helps them keep up their cover. 

Another frequent concept of mine is that in a strange way Daxam almost enforces casual relationships. Again, this is a pretty big topic in Boy and His Comet that actually all kinds of serious romantic and exclusive relationships are pretty much forbidden. But a similar concept shows up in Song of the Teacher where Mon-El explains to Kara

“Your responsibility is to your latch.” He shrugged. “I guess we believe that love is fleeting. You enjoy each other. You have good times together. But you also move on and enjoy yourself with others. But your family, and your latch, is forever.”

In Boy and His Comet Rhea’s thinking is in essence that strong romantic bonds are a threat to her. Let’s say Rhea wanted to execute somebody, then their lover would want to protect them or take revenge and rebel in that way. 

I have this unposted, unfinished story concept where Karamel are at a Daxamite club and Mon-El mentions that a certain song that is playing is surely gonna be banned and be put on the index because it speaks of romantic love and laying down your life for the one you love and Rhea won’t have that. Another idea there was Mon-El mentioning to Kara that officially all Daxamite love songs about a woman are about the queen and all love songs about a man are about the king. Because of course you are allowed to lay down your life for the queen. (but I had to scrap that concept because it was a Boy and His Comet spinoff story where Mon-El thinks Kara is Daxamite and that’s not the kind of thing he would say to another Daxamite, since he would just assume that a Daxamite would know that)

[dyingisfortheweekends]

Dark!little big three

Okay so I had this idea a while back and it’s just sorta been surculating in my head for a while so here it is Dark!thalia and dark!percy and dark!nico So ya know how they’ve all have at least some hatred towards the gods, well imagine them growing with that hatred and once Percy turns sixteen and the titan war is over Thalia asks to be released from her oath as an eternal maiden to be with her friends more. So then Percy nico and Thalia start bonding cuz only kids of the big three everybodys scared of them. And then cuz of this they’re like siblings and joined at the hip practically. And everything happens faster. Nico get together with will quicker Percy and Annabeth’s relationship is stronger. (Thalia’s heart belongs with someone who’s been dead for a while) Then Percy goes missing. Cuz of nico and Percy’s relationship once Percy shows up at the wolf house nico can feel it(Percy only remembers Thalia nico and Annabeth is this headcannon) Then he Thalia and Percy go on the quest together while hazel and frank defend CJ’s borders. Once they get back nico and Thalia are apart of the quest as well as hazel. Frank is praetor beside Reyna. (piper shows up later They go in their journey but instead of nico being in the jar it’s piper.) Thalia nico and Percy fall into hell instead (they meet a partially formed Kronos). Once hazel leads the seven to the house of hades Thalia nico and Percy arrive and basically slaughter all of the monsters to the extent that the rest of the seven+ piper and Reyna are terrified and while Jason and hazel love their siblings they are TERRIFIED. Eventually the war is over Thalia nico and Percy combined creat storm and fire Storm-Thalia and Percy Hellfire-Nico Later they are summoned up to Olympus and they gods give them two options. Immortality or exile They choose exile because they never want to be pawns again. Eventually the camps find out and the Romans go back to being prejudiced against the Greeks and they go their separate ways. Years later Thalia Nico and Percy find out that Artemis blessed them ( now they don’t age- isn’t that nice😑) Eventually they turn into legends that you hear about and mother tell their children Don’t be naughty or they will get you! They scorn the gods and begin their own camp full of other who have been hated and spit upon( for Greeks romans Egyptians and Norse) They live in peace for years until the gods are attacked That’s it I’ll let other take it from there!!

[theheightofdishonor]

Jason Grace in TLO (ok i tried)

I swear, I was going to write a meta on Jason Grace, on how he’s perceived to be vs how he actually is and all that. Trying to pinpoint why exactly Jason in canon is a boring character. No offense, but for the most part, it’s more fandom than the actual books themselves that lead to a person to liking Jason as a character. Now, i’m not trying to say it’s like that for everyone, just that it seems to be true for a lot of people from what I've seen. 

Anyway,  I started reading the Lost Hero again, to really get that feel for him because I haven’t actually reread the HoO in a while and god, the books infuriate the crap out of me. I don’t remember being this frustrated with it before. I actually like the Lost Hero as a book. But this time, it annoyed me so much I literally couldn’t get through the book or focus enough to stay unbiased as I observed Jason throughout the book. 

30 pages in, 30 pages and Jason’s still stumbling around. Now I understand the amnesia thing and he’s trying to figure everything out but there’s not a single instant where he’s solid about anything-except his minute jealousy/hatred of Dylan. I don’t understand why i’m supposed to like his character. Jason’s supposed to be a Roman, he’s supposed to be to Camp Jupiter what Percy is to Camp Half-blood. They’re supposed to be each other’s foils and I can’t see it. Except for his Latin knowledge and stuff, there’s nothing, nothing Roman about Jason at all. He’s been at Camp Jupiter for 12 years from what his SPQR tattoos tell us, far longer than Percy’s been at Camp Half-blood. Yet, how is it that I can’t see a single instance that would prove to me that this kid could stand Lupa’s training and make it to Camp Jupiter? 

And we all know the seen in TLO where he’s all ‘I’m the son of Jupiter! I’m a child of Rome, etc’. The speech he gives to Porphyrion, the one that he rattles off like ‘he’s said them many times before’. Nothing in this book shows me that Jason Grace is the type of person to have rattled of his many titles/accomplishments well enough that it would come instinctively out of his mouth. 

We don’t need a Roman that doesn’t really fit in, yet is respected, that’s what Frank ends up becoming. I want a Roman that is more, well, Roman. He doesn’t have to be full out Reyna about it but like enough to rival Percy’s Greekness should be good. 

And for all this ‘Jason’s a natural leader!’ crap, he doesn’t have that confidence that comes with leadership. And yeah, you can make a shit ton of excuse but the thing is, Jason’s a son of Jupiter, he’s used to being looked up to for this kinda shit and it should be just as instinctual for him to act confident as it is for him to rattle of those names or speak Latin. He has this thing for emotionally closing himself off (that makes complete sense, btw and oh look, also adds another similarity between him and Percy) yet even that doesn’t kick in here. Romans are all about not showing weakness. I know that the point is that he’s supposed to be un-Roman enough to accept/like going over to the Greeks. (Rick FAILED trying to do the opposite by making Percy ‘want’ to go to/prefer Camp Jupiter because his loyalty to Camp Half-blood’s already been too well established and the whole thing ended up coming off as shabby and badly carried out) The problem with Jason is that we don’t see that he’s Roman to begin with. in SoN, Percy’s obviously not Roman, he doesn’t fit in. From the way he thinks to how he fights, he’s Greek. The same can’t be said for Jason. Despite his talk later on, we don’t ever actually see Jason being super attached to Camp Jupiter and it makes me wonder why he was the one send over. 

The arc about choosing the other camp doesn’t make much sense to me with the two characters that Rick chooses. Yes, I can see why Percy of all people choosing the Roman Camp would mean something, but in-universe, Percy wouldn’t do that. It’s not believable enough. He may have been able to pull it off but Percy’s deeply rooted in camp and it’s just not played right. And Jason doesn’t come off as Roman enough for it to mean anything on his part. He has some emotional conflict regarding it later but it’s just a few thoughts and until that point, he’s never really shown attachment to the Roman camp or anything really to show that he was really influenced by the 12 fucking years he spent there. While that arc itself has some potential, it just doesn’t work. 

Jason as a character doesn’t work for me. He’s so boring, so bland and it bores and infuriates me at the same time. Jason has so much potential. 12 years as a Roman, think of how that would affect him and his views on Camp Half-blood, more than ‘Greeks are so carefree!”. Think of the struggles he’d have wrestling with two vastly different mindsets, especially in TLO. He’s exposed to the Greek beliefs/world far earlier than Percy is to Roman. He’s latching on what they’re telling him because he hasn’t had time to really figure his beliefs and shit out for himself. The mental struggle that would cause later on as he starts to regain his instincts and previous mindset and finding his place in them? God, that could’ve been great. And way more of how his adventures in TLO affect how he sees his previous experiences at Camp Jupiter and flipped. Instead, we can’t pinpoint anything about his character. He’s kind, gentle and cute. Okay, what else? I want something more to his character than that. If you asked me to describe his character, I wouldn’t know how. There aren’t a lot of defining characteristics in his personality  apart from the kind gentle thing and okay, maybe you could add that he’s a leader but on Jason, it’s more of a loose title he wears rather than a defining characteristic.

And his relationships as established in TLO. Okay, let’s talk about that.  Jason’s two main relationships are with Leo and Piper. 

With Piper, it’s more of a romantic sort. He sees her, knows they’re together, tries to get a feel for this girl and figure out what his feelings are towards her but assumes that if he does have them, they will definitely be on a romantic level. The thing with Jiper is that they could be great friends and we could see them bond as friends first and slowly reach the dating thing and you could argue that’s what Rick tries to do but it’s not well done. Jason’s thoughts on the subject don’t go far beyond ‘she’s cute, I wouldn’t mind dating her but I have a feeling I had some kinda thing going on w/ a girl back home’ while Piper can’t stop fixating on what she thought was a relationship with this guy and kinda just wants to get back there without redoing all the work which is admittedly understandable. They don’t really sit down and talk about this. They have moments but they don’t clear up what they think about each other and where they are with each other. And this is the most pushed, most shown dynamic between the trio of Jason, Leo, Piper. It leaves me dissatisfied and disinterested. The whole thing with Piper’s dad and that one other time they had a meaningful conversation was great but come on, that can’t be all they’re getting. We know they’ll end up together eventually, Jason mentions that he thinks she’s cute like on the second page but make it count. 

This leads me to talk about Leo. Finally. Personally I think TLO is Leo’s book to shine. When I forced myself to read through the book for this reread, it confirmed Leo as my fav out of this trio (So far, this is before his character was reduced to the sum of his love interests) Now before I talk about Leo in regards to Jason, I wanted to note that Leo came off as extremely non-hetero to me, more than usual. He keeps focusing on girls-and in a horribly shallow way- almost obsessively. It’s like he’s consciously forcing himself to think about it either in order to avoid thinking about something else or to just convince himself that he should have his eye on a girl in a romantic nature at all times. It sounds a lot like I used to and just confirms ace!Leo. 

Ok, now let’s actually talk about Jason and Leo. I hate it. Jason does this thing (less than Piper does but still) where he’s constantly wanting Leo out, there’s this general feeling that Leo is unwanted and only there to get in the way of Jason/Piper. Leo’s rarely deemed important enough to consider an equal, the honor goes to Piper. More often than not, he’s just there to be ‘annoying’. Though they keep talking and talking about how their great friendship, they never form one. Part of this is the fact that they don’t realize this is a problem that’s actually happening and part of it’s Jason and Piper’s unconscious attempts to put a distance there. I also feel like it acts to make Jason and Piper seem like an even stronger relationship in comparison to either of their dynamics with Leo but that could be just me. I’m not saying that Leo’s completely faultless here because he doesn’t do anything to resolve this though he constantly feels left out and like a third wheel despite his attempts to repress those feelings. Leo hides his pain with humor and as the story goes on, it feels as if he’s putting up more of a wall if anything because the he’s starting to feel hurt from the constant exclusion, enough that he can’t fully repress it. It sucks even more because if you think about it, they could be a great friendship. They both tend to repress their emotions, they don’t like sharing their personal feelings and thoughts with others, they’re a little slow to trust and that could help both of them, knowing someone who is like them and actively working together to get over/deal with those things together, a kin spirit in a way. Their surface differences would work to make it an even better relationship and we never see that. 

Jason/Piper/Leo are meant to be like Percy/Hazel/Frank but in terms of bonds, the SoN trio is miles ahead of our TLO group. Jason’s relationships with Piper and Leo respectively are far more flimsy and ill-formed than Percy’s with Frank and Hazel. And this situation doesn’t give Percy the advantage because it has nothing to do with the audience being familiar with the character and everything to do with the author and how the story is set up/written. Where SoN is great in how it introduces new, likable characters, TLO almost completely fails. Now, it is partially that TLO has to work with three new characters while SoN only had two but that doesn’t excuse the vast differences in character quality. 

Oh, before I end this post, I did want to talk Jason and Annabeth. One of my greater regrets, especially following the Mark of Athena and Annabeth’s distrust of Jason was that the relationship between the two didn’t ever go anywhere. Outside of a few moments, it was nonexistent. You’re telling me that TLO Jason would see this girl that should be familiar to him, if only because of her similarities to Reyna and not have an opinion on her above ‘she’s scary’? We know what his relationship was to be with Percy but Annabeth? I’d pay to see that; some kind of pivotal moment where her distrust of him leads somewhere or is played off or resolved or whatever. It could be one-sided or both with Jason being wary around this girl. And though Jason’s reformed to the Greek side, he’s apparently like still somewhat Roman? ( I don’t think he was really roman to begin with but whatevs) I wanna know though how a partial Roman/Greek would stand with Annabeth who out of the 7 is the only one that is completely unapologetically Greek; the only one who’s had as long of an experience at one camp as Jason has. Of course that would unsettle her a bit because she’s never wanted to be Roman and never will and she sees this guy who’s been going to one camp his entire life and you’re telling me she isn’t going to wonder how he could switch over so easily? AND, Annabeth not really liking Jason would def affect his relationship with Percy too. In short, those two could’ve been interesting. I’m not quite sure where I would’ve gone with it but it could’ve been interesting. And that’s all folks. 

[blacc-ikon]

I like to sometimes...

- What is Love? -

Love; an emotion so powerful that the Greeks and Romans assigned it its own Gods, Goddesses, and lore. Defined as a variety of emotional and mental states, it can range from the simplest of pleasures to the deepest of interpersonal affections. We are born into families that we grow to love unconditionally, then as we age we form families and bonds of our own. It has shaped our very existence and is often the driving factor for most decisions made. From the career we follow to the people we keep close, love has a strangle hold on the very fabric of most people’s reality. Love is a desire that is a very important part of being human. The idea of soulmates, unconditional love from a divine creator, purchasing of pets are all ways we tell ourselves that we are loved.

We all want to feel loved, but not everyone understands what that feeling or how to reciprocate it. There are people who may feel as if they have never been loved, or they never felt a certain kind of love they crave. This can lead to dangerous and self-destructive behavior such as sabotaging relationships, stalking of a love interest, or even violent acts of passion. Lacking love can cause depression and losing love has be proven to be lethal.

- The Heart of Stone -

Clouds fill the sky on a brisk autumn afternoon and a small gust whisks the fallen brown leaves on the pavement. Families walk up and down the sidewalks of their residence with their children, going door to door knock and asking for candy. The joyous laughter of children and the busy conversation of their elder siblings or parents fill the air. A child, dressed as a superhero, walks to the front door of the only house not decorated for the holiday and rings the doorbell many times ecstatically. Inside awoke a man in his room whose bed was riddled with cans of soda and half empty bags of potato chips. Begrudgingly, he tossed his quilt aside and shivered due to the low temperature of the room. With a grunt he sat and sighed as another flurry of bells rang his ear. “STOP RINGING THE FUCKING BELL!” he yelled, though he would soon regret due to a splitting headache he had. From outside his door a male voice said, “I got it, dude.” And soon after the chattering voices of disappointed folk could be heard. The man, scratching his bare chest rose from his bed and looked at the state of his room. Squalidly did he live for the mess on his bed did now compare to the disorderly state of his room. Dirty clothes were strewn about, his trashcan filled to the brim and overflowing, miscellaneous stains of all colors and hues marked his walks and carpet. He had a slight grimace upon his face until he looked over to his new sixty-five-inch, ultra-high definition flat screen with the newest gaming console attached and a stack of new game beside it. He looked slightly pleased.

With a stretch and a yawn, the man, whilst only in his underwear, left his hovel of a room and started towards the bathroom. His roommate, who was sitting on the couch and facing away from him by this time, did not even turn to greet him. Which was all the same to the man as they have known each other for about a decade. He enters the bathroom and locks the door to ensure his roommate does not try anything mischievous. He takes a good look at himself in the mirror. His hair was wild and unkempt and he had patches of hair for beard. He combs his fingers through his hair, which was greasy to the touch, to try and some semblance of order. He opened his mouth looked at his teeth which were not sparkling white, but to him they were good enough. He blew into his hand what he smelled disgusted him. He opened his bottle of mouth wash and gargled the fluid before spitting it out into the sink moments later.

He looked to the mirror again and admired himself. His eyes were a rich brown hue, and his hair was dark. His skin was a dark tan and he has a fairly toned build. He rubbed his hand against his chin feeling his beard and thinking maybe he should shave it, but ultimately decided against it seeing as it would be too much work. There was a knock on the door. “Aug, can I talk to you, bro?” It was his roommate again. Aug, whose full name was Augustine, walked to the door, unlocked it and opened wide. “Oh, God!” exclaimed his roommate, covering his eyes and turning away. He pointed to Augustine’s pelvis. “Put the thing away, dude!” Augustine looked down and noticed that he was sporting a full-on erection. Embarrassed, Augustine retreated behind the door and cleared his throat. “What’s up, Virgil?” He asked, not meeting Virgil’s eye. Virgil completely disregarded the event and moved straight into his point. “Do you have the rent?” Augustine’s face twisted in one of confusion. “Of course, I have the rent. It’s sitting in my bank account, but why are you asking? It’s not due for another ten days.” Virgil let out a nervous laugh before explaining himself. “Well you see… I may have over spent this month and was wondering if you’d take me to the shopping district so I can sell a few things?” Augustine looked at his room dumbfound. He wanted to asked how could he over spend, but lost interest in the reason. With a sigh, Augustine simply nodded before closing the bathroom door. Virgil, from the other side of the door thanked him and joked that maybe he should shower, but it was probably a good idea.

An hour later, after eat getting dressed and eating, the two men were ready to hit the town. Virgil collected a few things: old games he does not play anymore, a guitar that he never learned to use, a few laptops that were outdated, and a few other things. Virgil loaded his belongings into the trunk of Augustine’s car. Augustine own a sports car that only two years old, but he does not take very good care of it. It has some dents and dings, most of which was his fault, but the inside was riddle with empty bottles, cups and fast food bags. Augustine and Virgil got in with no mention of the mess. A few minutes after the two got on the road, Virgil turned down the music slightly. “So, Aug…” Augustine quickly looked over to his friend then back to the road and waited for him to finish his thought. Virgil continued, “…how’ve you been, man? You’ve been kind of down since Maisie left and you haven’t been working steadily.” There was a silence between then with only the sound of Augustine’s engine roaring over faint music to be heard.

- Three Months Prior -

Augustine wakes up and promptly gets out of bed with a stretch and a yawn. Nothing in his room was out of order. Dirty clothes sat in a hamper, his trash was still full but manageable, no trash laid upon his bed, desk or floor. He walked into the bathroom with a towel and toothbrush then showered. His hair was well kept and combed, his face was clean shaven and his teeth sparkled like the stars in space. After drying off, he went back into his room and put on a nice suit. He was looking over some papers and drinking apple juice as he waited for his waffles to pop out of the toaster. Virgil exited his room and sleepily greeted him. Augustine waved then grabbed his waffles and began to walk towards the door. The early morning sun shined brilliantly as the sound of a lawnmower cutting grass echoed through the streets. Augustine got into his mess free car and drove off to work. On his drive he sang cheerfully to the song on his playlist and jigged in his seat. Once at work, he let out a small sigh as he looked at his office building. He hated his job. Not because the work was hard, but because he just hated his co-workers. He entered the building and those who knew him congratulated him. He’d just been promoted to division manager and now supervised and advised the employees under him. He did not really try for this promotion, but he is good at his job and liked the pay increase. An older woman around her mid-thirties walked up to Augustine. “Oh, great…” he thought sarcastically. The woman, Natalie, was a nuisance to him.

“Good morning, Aug…” Natalie voiced cheerfully as she handed him a stack of folders. “Congrats on that promotion! Here are my reports from last week that I finished over the weekend. Please review them and notify me of any errors. Thanks!” She walked off without another word. Augustine see Natalie as a bitter root in the company because she has been working there two years longer than him, but not once has been considered for promotion. He believes it is because she is not autonomous. Before submitting anything, she has her direct supervisor review it, just in case. Augustine scoffed as he fingered through her report files and started towards his new office.

Second came Garrett, a man few years younger than Augustine at the age of twenty-six, who is a constant problem for company. He is usually late with some half-assed excuses, his work performance is subpar, and always flirts with executive staff. Augustine is dreading the day his executive tells him to fire him. “Hey, boss man coming through!” Garrett exclaims loudly, holding his hand up for a high-five despite both of Augustine’s hands being occupied. Augustine, knowing that Garrett will still expect one, shuffles Natalie’s file to another hand and attempts a lack luster high-five. In the midst, all the files drop to the ground and scatter. “Oh, damn. Sucks to suck there, buddy. See you around.” Garrett chuckles, stepping over all the files and folder then walks off. “Fucking prick.” Augustine mutters under his breathe. “You got that right. I wonder why no one has fired him.” said a female voice. Augustine looked up to see it was Lorraine. The last member of his department.

Augustine did not hate Lorraine. She was cheerful and kind. He just did not like her face. He though she was kind of ugly and tried his best to keep their conversations short. “Oh, you heard that?” Augustine said nervously, scrambling to pick up the papers. Lorraine knelt down and began to help him. “You don’t have to do that…” he said, reaching for the papers she picked up, but she pulled them back and helped anyway. “Nonsense. I helped Natalie with these files so I know the order they go in.” Defeated, Augustine agreed to her help. Soon after, all the files were neatly tucked into their folders once more. “You see, the power of teamwork. Right, boss?” Lorraine said with a little giggle, but a pseudo-tough voice and pose. “Yeah… and you don’t need to call me boss. See you around, Lorraine. Have a nice day.” Augustine smiled at her pleasantly and began to walk off. She returned the pleasantry and went to her desk.

In his office, Augustine review Natalie’s reports and saw that they were flawless. He even thought that she did her reports better than he can. He pushed them to the side and wrote a sticky note that said, “Great work! Be more confident in yourself and submit you next batch after a self-review! 😊” He sighed as he opened his phone and looked at several text messages he sent to his girlfriend, Maisie, over the course of two weeks. They all read the same message, “Good morning, babe. I hope you have a great day!” They have all been read, but none replied to.

[breezy-cheezy]

Psychonauts Daemon AU

The concept of daemons is borrowed from the His Dark Materials series. A daemon is a person’s soul manifested outside of their body in a tangible, physical form, which permanently settles into the form of the animal that most resembles them in character as the individual matures. Human and daemon are not separate beings, but two halves of one mental coin, which means that they each know everything the other does, thinks, and senses. Dæmons are almost always the opposite gender of their human counterparts, and have a distinct personality compared to their humans to a certain degree, as human and daemon represent different aspects of the same whole.

(Shout out to @x-i-l-verify​ who was and is very helpful in planning this au, and much of this post’s format is inspired by her own daemon aus.)

RAZPUTIN AQUATO + LUMISTEA (CARRION CROW)

(Since Raz is only ten years old in Psychonauts, he’s rather young and not necessarily settled yet. This is just me guessing what form his soul might settle as, the way he’s going now.) 

Carrion crows can be solitary nesters, but they also form monogamous pair bonds and mate for life. They may end up forming family groups with their young, and during the winter they will join mixed species flocks of birds, showing a flexible social structure. Carrion crows are highly intelligent birds and have proven to be very quick learners. They have many innovative ways of solving problems and obtaining food, such as dropping shelled nuts on the road so cars can run over the hard food and open it for the crows to eat. These crows will make their nests out of anything available and have a very wide diet, including but not limited to carrion, bugs, human scraps, nuts, and berries. They will also steal food from birds of prey and foxes when given the chance. Carrion crows will confront large birds of prey and any other birds that might invade their territory, even joining in mobs with their neighbors to help fight off offenders. These bold birds will go anywhere there’s food, being wary but not especially fearful of humans. Carrion crows can be very playful and will often do things like slide down snowy hills for fun. They also have a strange obsession with fire and often bring burning materials back to their nests, when most other animals would avoid fire entirely. 

Raz is persevering, confident, and supportive. Lumistea is Raz’s problem-solving, practical, adaptable side. Both sides are quite playful.

Name Analysis:

Lumistea is an amalgamation of the Romanian words for “bright” (luminos) and “star” (stea).

LILI ZANOTTO + DEMETRIO (MAHOGANY GLIDER)

(Same deal as Raz. Lili is still too young to really settle, but this is my guess as to what form her soul might take based on how her personality is currently developing.)

Pairs of mahogany gliders are monogamous, and each pair will aggressively attack other gliders that invade their territory. Despite being socially monogamous, pairs tend to forage alone and sleep in separate dens. Foraging alone makes the species less conspicuous to predators like owls, so their independence is mostly in defense against predators on their part.  Mahogany glider pairs defend their territory by each patrolling borders separately. This patrol is called a “foraging loop”, because it allows them more coverage, as well as allowing them to identify new food sources in their territory. The species is omnivorous and will change its diet seasonally in order to get the most nutrients out of available food rather than sticking with just one type of food. A pair has 6-13 dens within their territory so that they don’t have to always return to the same den when they make their foraging loop. Despite being rather quiet, these gliders have a high metabolism and are very active and mobile. They often prefer more open habitats so they can make longer glides from the tops of tall trees, which suits their larger body size.

Lili is defensive, proactive, and stubborn, while Demetrio shows her more anxious, quiet, and sentimental side.

Name Analysis:

Demetrio is the Italian, Portuguese and Spanish form of Latin Demetrius, which means "loves the earth" or "follower of Demeter." Demeter was the goddess of corn, grain, and the harvest. It was believed that Demeter made the crops grow each year.

SASHA NEIN + ATHENE (GHARIAL)

Gharials are solitary, specialized hunters; they employ a 'watch and wait' style to eat fish almost exclusively, and are therefore dependent on good fish supplies. They only leave the water to bask and nest, and they tend to revisit the same basking spots. Gharials are polygamous and spend a great deal of their time alone. When they do come together to bask and nest communally, it’s mainly incidental with little social bonding. Gharials will tolerate other gharials in their immediate vicinity when basking, and nesting females will tolerate fellow nesting females. They are only really territorial during the breeding season. While not involved in any sort of young-rearing process, males will readily allow hatchlings (not necessarily their own) to climb and sit on top of them. On the other hand, gharial females are very dedicated mothers. After digging several 'trial' nests in the sand, they’ll lay their eggs and guard the nest through about 70 days of incubation. They’ll help to excavate  newly hatched young, then 'escort' their young to the nearest body of water. Female gharials will stay near their young and protect them for a period of several weeks to several months. During this time the hatchlings usually stay together in groups near the female.  

Sasha is dedicated, calculating, and patient while Athene embodies his more protective, straight-forward, and picky side.

Name Analysis:

Athene is a variation of Greek myth name, Athena, which is the name of the goddess of wisdom. Plato fancifully derived her name from a-theo-noa, meaning "mind of God". Her Roman name is Minerva, which means "intellect".

MILLA VODELLO + TADEO (EGYPTIAN PLOVER)

The Egyptian plover is one of the tamest of birds, having been reported living happily alongside villagers and fishermen. It unearths worms, mollusks, insects and their larvae by probing with its bill in damp sand or by digging into the surface with both feet. This friendly, social bird can be found near desert river water in pairs, small groups, or large flocks, but almost never alone. They only seem territorial during breeding season, having no qualms about chasing off other invading plovers or birds of prey if it meant protecting their babies. The plover’s eggs are not incubated, but are buried in warm desert sand. To keep the sand from becoming too hot, the parents take turns sitting on the eggs with water-soaked bellies to cool them and keep the babies from burning to death. The chicks may even drink water from the adult's belly feathers after hatching. The Egyptian plover is sometimes referred to as the crocodile bird for its symbiotic relationship with crocodiles. According to Herodotus, the crocodiles lie on the shore with their mouths open and a bird called "trochilus" flies into the crocodiles' mouths so as to feed on decaying meat lodged between the crocodiles' teeth. There is no photographic evidence of this occurrence, but plovers have been observed to be remarkably bold in the presence of crocodiles and may run across their backs from time to time.

Milla is bubbly, compassionate and optimistic, while Tadeo represents her more enduring, protective, resourceful side.

Name Analysis:

Tadeo is the Spanish form of Latin Thaddaeus, meaning "courageous” or “large-hearted."

MORCEAU OLEANDER + JARONA (EASTERN CHIPMUNK)

Eastern chipmunks can be found in many places; they are tolerant of human habitation, sometimes burrowing under buildings when given the chance. They are omnivores with a wide diet of seeds, nuts, fruits, insects, worms, eggs, and mushrooms. They spend most of their time foraging for food on the ground, but they will also climb trees to obtain food. These chipmunks are solitary, polygamous animals; females are commonly left to raise their offspring on their own, while males leave to mate with more females. They’re great planners, constructing burrows with numerous entrances and exits, complicated tunnels, and chambers for storage and nesting. Each chipmunk will fiercely defend their territories from intruders. Their aggression is typically more vocal than violent, but fights will break out when other chipmunks ignore the territorial warning calls of the resident chipmunk. They conceal their burrow entrances with leaves and rocks in order to further avoid predatory attention. A chipmunk usually stays in its small home range its entire life, only venturing further during breeding season or when food is scarce. Despite being such solitary animals, chipmunks are also very vocal. They use a wide variety of chips, trills, and calls to defend their territories and to alert other chipmunks of predators in the area.

Oleander is blunt, passionate and highly assertive, while Jarona embodies his planning, ambitious and insecure side.

Name Analysis:

Jarona is the anglicized form of Hebrew Yarona, meaning "to shout and sing."

FORD CRULLER + FRITZI (ZEBRA LONGWING)

(Ford’s daemon is rather unstable due to his fractured psyche. When he moves away from the giant psitanium deposit and adopts one of his many different identities, his daemon tends to flicker and become a little fuzzy, like a photo out of focus. It kind of freaks people out.)

Zebra longwings will forage and roost alone, but are also likely to be found in both large and small groups. They roost communally at night in groups of up to 60 adults. This occurs nightly and they return to the same roost each time. In their groups they display a group-startle response, where all the gathered butterflies will react together in response to a disturbance, which deters predators. Zebra longwings usually live in a very stable, tropical environments, and they do not hibernate. Non-hibernating butterfly species live longer and have higher fitness than hibernating butterflies. Zebra longwings are a migratory species, but unlike most butterflies, they do not display wanderlust, nor are they known to migrate at particular times of the year. They do, however, migrate in order to locate resources and establish the most efficient paths to reach these resources. This species is surprisingly territorial, but it's mostly observed in males who guard their potential mates. Longwings are unusual in feeding on pollen as well as on nectar; the pollen enabling them to synthesize toxic substances in their bodies. They use their bright colors and contrasting wing patterns to warn others of their toxicity, asserting themselves as poisonous and unpalatable to any potential predators. 

Ford is good-natured, intuitive and cooperative, while Fritzi shows his more assertive, analytical, efficient side.

Name Analysis:

Fritzi is a pet form of German name Friederike, meaning "peaceful ruler."

~ . ~ . ~ . ~

SOURCES:

http://www.daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24702

http://www.daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24456

http://www.daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24590

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egyptian_plover

http://what-when-how.com/birds/egyptian-plover-birds/

http://www.daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24671

http://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24271

[muffindragon227]

Current Projects

So there’s been a meme going around for writers to talk about their current WIPS and list them and as it turns out I’ve been tagged by both @lizard-is-writing and @chanting-to-u. So this is honestly something I had to really thinks about because depending on the definition of “Work in Progress” I have anywhere from two to well over twenty. I’ve got a bit of plot hording problem. For the sake of not boring everyone and also not taking over dashboards I’m going to stick to projects I’ve worked on in the last year. For those of you who don’t know I write mostly for the Fairy Tail fandom so that’s what all these fics are for. Tagging @nokohmis, @mcubed35, @kanarenee and anyone else who wants to (sorry my brain is dead right now.)

I’ll Keep Your Secrets Safe (aka IKYSS) This is my main project, and while it is fanfiction it seems to have taken on a life of it’s own at this point. I’ve written and published 22 of 28 chapters and have been writing this since Nano 2015. IKYSS is a story that takes one of the most beloved rom-com tropes, fake dating, and turns it on its head, because the main character is gay. He and his best friend are faking a relationship because he’s returning to his redneck hometown for the holidays for the first time since going to college. It’s a coming out story, but one that addresses coming out to fairly liberal family members and why that’s still scary. Mostly it’s just about love and relationships in all their forms and about mending broken and strained bonds and self healing. It’s been a really personal project and I’m looking forward to finishing it off this year. Winter’s Mourning Series WM is an original YA high fantasy piece that I’m still mostly in the planning stages for. It’s modeled after Greek and Roman mythos, and is the story of Kee’ar, God of Mourning; son of the God of Death, and his coming into his role as a God while also unwittingly fulfilling a prophecy to save the world. Once IKYSS is done this is going to be my next major writing piece.

Westeros Wedding Night AU - One shot Okay so about a year ago I started this and I’ve worked on it on and off. It’s actually part of a much larger au that I’m probably never going to get to outside of this but that’s okay. It’s pretty much just some smut with plot tied in. But basically Gray and Juvia are Lord of Winterfell and Lady of Riverrun respectively and are forced into a marriage alliance and well.... I think you can figure out where I’m going from there.

2k written and I’m not much past the plot and build up. Oops ^-^. I swear one day I’ll finish it.

Coffee Shop AU This started off as two “five minute” drabbles for two different couples and is now spiraling into a little pet project to write when I need a breather from other writing projects. It’ll likely be a collection of drabbles and just involve some fun cliches and lots of friendship moments and flirting. Cause we all need a fun side project to be silly with.

[thelonelyrdr-blog]

Thoughts on the Heroes of Olympus series (Part 3)

(The ending is somewhat spoiled in this one, so if that bugs you, read with caution.)                      Apparently, yesterday was Percy Jackson's birthday. So he's a Leo. Makes sense, I thought, and set to integrating this piece of trivia with my mental image of Percy, but then I realized that I already knew it from the following exchange in The Blood of Olympus: "Like the zodiac sign?" Percy asked. "I'm a Leo." "No, stupid," Leo said, "I'm a Leo. You're a Percy." The bad puns in this series are so real, guys. Anyway, given that it was Percy's birthday, it would've been neat if I could've posted this review yesterday, but alas, I just didn't have the energy after work. But hey, my lateness won't stop me from tagging this post with #happybirthdaypercy in a shameless attempt to increase my readership. Happy Birthday, Percy! I know you won't mind my using your birthday as a marketing tool.   The Blood of Olympus  Reyna and Nico are by far my favorite parts of this book, both separately and as a pair, but especially as a pair. Both are characters with deeply traumatic pasts who feel a respect and kinship for one another that eventually evolve into familial affection. Hazel may be Nico’s sister in name, but Reyna seems closer to filling Bianca’s role as big sister to Nico: whereas, historically, Nico has had to protect and guide Hazel, Reyna is someone who will not only do the same for him, but who will also worry for him. She has the magical ability to literally empathize with his need, as a boy who has lost a mother and an older sister, to feel cared for and considered, and is therefore uniquely qualified to respond to it. Nico’s bonds with both Reyna and Hazel, though, are beautiful.  As for Reyna herself, as much as I love all of the female characters in both this series and the original, in my estimation, she's the best, simply by virtue of being the most complex. Riordan's skill with developing characters through their internal struggles shines in Reyna's chapters. Let's not kid ourselves like the other characters do: she killed her father, even if it was in self-defense and even if he'd degenerated into a mania, giving her what is certainly the darkest backstory of any character in this series and probably of any character in any middle-grade series ever. I'm surprised that the publisher didn't insist on cutting the murder, though Riordan does gloss over its moral ambiguity somewhat. Nico's pretty terrifying in that one scene, too, and in his case, Reyna and Coach Hedge fully acknowledge the immorality of his actions. You all know the scene I'm referring to, or will if and when you read this book. Can I get some Dark!PercyxDark!Nico fanfics in addition to the Dark!Percy ones I already tried to commission in my previous blog post? (Oh, and if you're wondering about my thoughts on Reyna's sexuality, as I know many have imagined her as gay or bisexual, I personally ship her with herself regardless of her sexual preferences. To be clear, I have nothing against either interpretation of her character, but I got a little disenchanted with every character being or wanting to be in a serious romantic relationship as the series progressed. There are single teenagers, you know. I was one of them.) Before I conclude my discussion of Nico and Reyna, though, I have to mention the scene where Nico finally confesses to Percy that he once had a crush on him. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one cheering for him and wishing that I could be that cool while simultaneously laughing at Percy’s confusion and Annabeth’s amusement. And oh man, that high five between Annabeth and Nico. Perfect.  But it's time that I commented on Leo’s happy ending, in which he fulfills his role in the prophecy by dying (but not really) and keeping his oath to Calypso to free her from Ogygia.  Their whole relationship is comprised of moments of subtle tenderness, but the line in the last chapter that struck me most was:  “Leo Valdez,” she said. Nothing else - just his name, as if it were something magical.  I fangirled when I read that line, and the entire last chapter, for two reasons. The first is that, no matter how I try to deny the tendency in myself, I’m a hopeless romantic (yes, I’m a hopeless romantic who doesn’t read straight romance and who wants to see more single characters in middle-grade and YA novels. Everyone has their contradictions) who was invested in this couple from the start. However, the second reason pertains to Leo’s character. He’s the “seventh” wheel of the group, who’s spent the whole series doubting his own merits and developing crushes on girls who either take no interest in him or take no interest in him and seem interested in one of his friends instead. To be fair, one of these girls is a villain anyway, but her rejection still validates Leo’s insecurities. Even Calypso herself has a history with another of the Seven (Percy) and initially reacts to Leo's arrival on Ogygia as though it were a cruel joke of the gods'. The fact that the other characters largely disregard Leo - even I've ignored him until now, ironically, despite how hilarious I found his dialogue and narration - is what makes Riordan’s positioning him as the hero of the series so emotionally and narratively satisfying. He forms a plan to defeat Gaea without even consulting the others (might it be said that his inherited tendency to work independently and in isolation, which he and dad Hephaestus both perceive as a flaw, is what enables him to save the world?); he breaks Calypso's curse without leaning on the gods or on Percy's bargain with them. He goes from being the most overlooked of the Seven to someone whose very name inspires awe (and you can't tell me that Calypso's awe results solely from romantic feeling - I'm sure that, when she utters that line, she's also thinking of how Leo is the first and only person to manage to free her, to even remember her after leaving Ogygia). His is an underdog story done right. Overall As I hope you've gathered from my individual comments on each book, there's a lot to appreciate in this series: it's by turns light and funny and dark and morally ambiguous; it's smart and subtly overturns stereotypes and prejudices; and, perhaps most importantly, it's full of likable, relatable characters who feel distinct and real. It's self-aware too: as in the original series, Riordan raises the question - here, most notably in Arachne's version of her myth - of whether the gods are truly good or merely better than the alternatives of Gaea and the Titans; whether theirs is the side the demi-gods would willingly choose or merely the one they happen to be on because of their parentage. It's not often in children's adventure stories that the heroes consider that the villains may have a valid moral point, and beyond that, one that invalidates theirs. Even the last two Harry Potter books don't go as far with humanizing and demonizing Voldemort and Dumbledore, respectively. Unfortunately, the narrative does not adequately answer this question or many of the others that it raises. Take, as another example, Percy's "fatal flaw," loyalty, which I noted in Part 1 of my review never seems to result in negative consequences for either the Seven or the quest, despite being talked up by both gods and monsters throughout the series. Were the repeated warnings about it supposed to be foreshadowing Percy's decision to fall into Tartatus with Annabeth? If so, that makes no sense, as at least one demi-god was needed on each side of the Doors of Death, anyway, and Percy and Annabeth were obviously more successful as a team than either would've been alone. Or, as is more likely, was Percy's "fatal flaw" part of a larger plot thread that was dropped due to time and space constraints? But if that's the case, then why couldn't the first two books in the series have been condensed into one, or the series extended to include six or seven books? Surprisingly, considering how tightly plotted the original series was, the plot in this series fizzles to near nonexistence by the end of The Blood of Olympus, the tension building inconsistently as the climax approaches. Compared to the final battle in The Last Olympian, which engrossed me even more than the Battle of Hogwarts did (fellow Harry Potter fans, you don't have to call me a traitor; I assure you, I already feel like one), the stakes in the battle against Gaea and her army seemed the equivalent height of those in a fight involving elementary school children wielding sticks. Riordan's failure to deliver in this respect was especially glaring considering that he'd promised readers not one major battle in The Blood of Olympus, but two. Instead we get a one-on-one fight between Reyna and Orion that feels more internally than externally resonant and forestalls Major Battle #1, the Roman attack on the Greeks, before it even begins; a fight with the earthborn during which no one but Jason is really needed, as he's shown to be tremendously overpowered; and a fight between Leo and Gaea, which should've been Major Battle #2 but which is over within a page or two. The characters reiterate throughout the series how powerful Gaea is and how much more substantial of a threat she is than the Titans, but even the lowest monster in Tartarus was scarier and took longer to defeat. Hell, the Minotaur in The Lightning Thief would've been a worthier opponent for our heroes. The only explanation I can think of for the disappointing finish to this series is, again, that Riordan must have run out of time or space to give readers a proper final battle (though he hinted at two, I would've settled for one). Or possibly steam.   Still, although the series as a whole has a rushed and sloppy quality to it, I would still highly recommend it, both for the reasons listed above and for its resemblance to fanfiction. Yes, sadly, only in fanfiction would I expect to read a continuation of Percy Jackson's story with as many minority as white demi-god protagonists, whose cultures, used respectfully by Riordan, inform rather than define their identities; a gay character who is revealed to be in love with the protagonist of the first series; and an emphasis on female empowerment and the glorification of the feminine. There’s even a character -  arguably the most physically attractive of the Seven, might I add - who discovers that he needs glasses! I was shocked, albeit pleasantly so, to find a published series containing all of these elements, and I'm not even gay or a minority. If you pick up these books for the representation alone, you won't regret it.     But that won’t be necessary: there are a multitude of other fun reasons. 

[camphalforacle]

pjo au!!!

Ok so the au is pretty intricate so my plan is to do a post for each character’s backstory and then do another post for the plot! I’ll also probably do some miniposts on character relationships in this au that get glossed over- this post will be about Lance

Lance is a son of Aphrodite (and great grandson of a son of Poseidon), Pidge is a daughter of Athena, Keith is a son of Ares, Shiro is a son of Jupiter, Hunk is a son of Demeter, Allura is a daughter of Bellona, and Coran is a centaur (like Chiron)

Ok so the Garrison is a safe house where demigods can go (Roman and Greek) run by older demigods and others (Coran, Alfor, etc.). The Garrison offers academics for demigods, boarding, training, and pretty much everything in between

Alright so I want to delve a little bit into Lance (like i said this will be a bit lance centric before I get into actual plot)

Lance has been there the longest out of almost the entire group (Allura has officially been there the longest, her father was the grandson of Justice and she grew up only ever knowing the Garrison as home)

Lance arrived at the Garrison when he was nine. Lance is the oldest sibling of 7 and he was the only demigod out of them (the poseidon blood in all the kids wasn’t potent so no one had any powers or the like). But because Lance was a full on demigod he kept attracting monsters to his house, and he felt really guilty, so his mom took him to the Garrison where he stays full time (only writing some letters back and forth with his family)

To say he’s homesick is an understatement 

At the time of this story he’s 19 and yea he’s got insecurities…

When Lance first arrived to the Garrison he thought things would go great for him, he imagined glory and training to fight monsters… but that didn’t exactly go as planned

Lance was automatically labeled the stereotypical Aphrodite kid and this kind of branded his life there

Lance always tried desperately to break the idea that all Aphrodite kids’ were airheads and only cared about makeup

He studied so hard in his classes, and trained even harder. He brushed off his homesickness and just put in all the effort he could

Yet he was still one of the last picked for capture the flag and even then he was given little responsibility

Sure, he fit a lot of the stereotypes, he was a massive flirt, his pride was his skin care routine, and his saturdays were spent watching rom-coms with his other sibling

But he still was a good demigod- he was an excellent sharpshooter and if anyone let him prove himself instead of brushing him off they too would see his talents

Though the campers will admit that he has an exceptional ability with the pegasi- especially a grayish mare named Blue, who only has one wing and was too scared to let anyone near her before Lance showed up 

Then when Lance is thirteen in walks two new demigods- Takashi Shirogane and Keith Kogane

At the time Lance had few friends (other than his siblings) despite his seemingly outgoing personality. He mostly was too afraid that he’d have to leave them like he did his family, so the majority of his time was spent hanging with Coran, creating wild variations of common card games (Allura was also a constant for Lance, she was two years older than him and Coran’s niece, so they ended up forming a brotherly/sisterly bond with one another- which definitely entails Lance braiding Allura’s hair all the time and especially before she goes on a quest)

Shiro was 17 at the time and Keith 13, they had been foster brothers coincidentally and their foster mother may or may not have been a monster in disguise

Lance despises Keith from the start- he’s everything he’s not 

Keith is a son of Ares, he barely has to work to match right up to Lance’s fighting abilities that took years of practice and he’s instantly respected by fellow campers

So yea, Lance declares a rivalry on him and Keith is honestly just really confused because he’s barely even had a conversation with the guy ??

Shiro ends up being a bit of a star at camp, being one of the few children of the Big Three

He’s powerful and has especially skill in controlling lightning and storms, Lance immediately looks up to him

And then not even a week into Keith being at the Garrison he gets a quest

AND LANCE IS FLOORED 

because he’s been there for four years now ?? and where is his quest at ??

Coran makes sure to calm Lance down a bit and it works mostly, but it still leaves a lasting impression and Lance can’t help think that it means something (maybe he is just a stereotypical Aphrodite kid after all)

Alright so it’s almost a year later after all this, Lance is keeping his rivalry going with Keith, and he’s chilling with Allura, drinking some lemonade playing a card game when he meets a new demigod, Hunk Garrett (son of Demeter)

They’re basically instant best friends (and Coran is a proud dad bc look at his son finally making friends!!)

Hunk is one of the best things to happen to Lance, he reminds Lance of his mom which provides an even greater sense of home to the Garrison

Hunk is the first person that Lance takes to try and befriend wit Blue

It takes awhile but eventually Blue takes a liking to Hunk (especially after he shares his famed oat cookies with her)

Hunk is Lance Protection Squad (you know how Demeter went apeshit on those people that trespassed in her woods- yea thats Hunk when people try to disregard Lance, etc)

The friendship is just really good for both of them and they make an awesome power duo (especially in capture the flag- which no one suspects)

However, there’s this one time when Lance is going through a rough spot. Keith had gotten another quest (Lance still was holding out for his first) and when he came back he was praised by everyone. However, he got injured on it and has to sit out for capture the flag that night. The Ares Cabin reluctantly adds Lance to their team, but ensures that he knows it’s only because Keith is injured

And yea that reinforces a lot of insecurities that Lance was just starting to get over

Hunk tries to console his friend after the game by bringing him some comfort food, but Lance just snaps at him and tells him to throw it all out- he doesn’t want it, and Hunk does just that

Lance is shocked

Hunk is shocked (he would never waste his food)

And that’s how it was found out that Lancecould charmspeak

Lance immediately apologized, he felt awful for snapping at Hunk and even worse for forcing him into something. Lance and Hunk come to an agreement not to tell anyone about it, but it terrifies Lance. He hates that his voice can make someone go against their will (he makes sure to never give anyone orders)

Then just a couple months after Hunk arrives, so does a new demigod, Pidge Gunderson, child of Athena

For some reason Lance just has this overwhelming feeling that he has to be friends with this little shit

To say Pidge is unwelcoming to the idea was a major understatement

But eventually Hunk and Lance grew on Pidge

They became known as a trio, never separating from each other

They were each other’s best friends for nearly five years when a great prophecy was given 

It called for six demigods 

apparently, there had been an underground resistance group composed of gods and demigods that wanted to overthrow Olympus

they were known as the Gods Allegiance to the Lesser Revered Authorities, or GALRA for short

So Lance finally got his wish to go on this quest and three of his best friends were going with him and so was his hero! But then there were the downsides… like the imminent death of the whole thing

And the worst of all- spending an indefinite time with Keith Kogane

[bruceeves]

“Work # 961: Six Works Seven Anecdotes”

When accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1958, Harold Pinter said that “there are no real distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily true or false; it can be both true and false.” What I propose here is to engage with six works I created over the past three years, a series of works that are mash-ups of gay history, art history, and my history refracted through the mashed-up lens of image abutting image and text atop image. The resulting elements of ambiguity engage memory – not exclusively, but not insubstantially either – and neatly echo the lack of reliability between real/unreal true/false posited by Pinter. “Memory” as Mary Warnock would postulate “operates under perpetual tension: the only way to cope with life is to learn what to forget; the only way to feel one has an identity is to remember.”

  In 2007, after a months-long bout of self-doubt and self-recrimination, I decided to take a booth in the artist sector of the Folsom Fair North to decide once and for all whether or not to throw in the towel. I was interested in feedback more than anything. Aside from earning about 20 cents profit, the one thing I learned from my afternoon spent in Allan Gardens in downtown Toronto is that Leathermen, while supportive, are cheap, cheap, cheap . . .    With success and validation like that, I realized it would be stupid to give up so I resolved to stick around (much to the annoyance of some . . . they know who they are).

  Accepting “Salò: 120 Nights of Sodom” as its personal saviour, “Work # 864: The Nature of God” (2013) looked to Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1975 enumeration of abuse of power, corruption, sadism, sexual perversity, and fascism as the first work in a series that explored the outer limits of masculine behaviour – a behaviour that is traditionally still expected of the boy before he can be considered fully a man. With titles like “Trailer Trash Terrorism”, “Behave Work Obey”, “Yes I Will Yes”, “Cell Block Bitch”, and “Shhh . . . (How to Conduct a Successful Interrogation – Lessons 1-20)” this is not a series of works intended for the faint of heart. What was done with this series was the antithesis of aestheticizing gleaming muscleboys or exploring the romanticism inherent in male bonding. “Work # 864: The Nature of God” allows that the rigour of discipline often morphs into the disciplinarian running amok. Notwithstanding the fact that this work has been described as ‘the water-boarding piece’ (which is an interpretation that I don’t dismiss), it is a multi-image cum-soaked force-feeding enacting either the predetermined choreography of some arcane sexual ritual or the resolution of cold-blooded revenge – that’s up for you to decide.  

  “Work # 900: (Endeavouring . . . )“ (2014) is masculine behaviour of a different sort – a mash-up of “Hercules Beating the Centaur Nessus” by Giambologna and a slightly abridged line lifted from “The Pickwick Papers“ by Charles Dickens. While it appears to be a meeting of an apple and an orange, the two parts making the whole have a lot in common. Giambologna (1529-1608) was a Flemish sculptor (born Jean Boulogne) based in Italy and celebrated for a Mannerist style of intellectual sophistication and conscious artificiality favouring compositional tension and instability over balance and clarity. It seemed logical to partner a Mannerist sculpture from 1599 with a comic novel from 1836. As in many other Dickens novels the main literary value is the often exaggerated personality traits of his characters. The abridged quote is from a scene when the perennial spinster Rachael Wardle is driven into a state of near-feverish excitement over her botched elopement. The two fragments – sculpture and text – taken together assume a different form of feverish instability by implying a post-modern conflicted relationship willfully engineered by Nancy-boy Nessus to force hunky he-man Herc into delivering the most satisfactorily masochistic pounding. “Work # 900: (Endeavouring . . . )“ could never be construed as a self-portrait. The only thing masochistic about me is my continual insistence on maintaining an art practice; and as far as what goes on, as they say, behind closed doors, I’m far too snotty and opinionated to be anyone’s slave.

  It was after much arguing that this work was finally exhibited as part of a self-described “queer” arts festival hosted by Artscape – a real estate monopoly that is the purveyor of postage-stamped sized “live/workspaces” and studios priced at levels geared to the 1% throughout Toronto – found this union of 16th century image with 19th century words simply beyond the pale for breached the organization’s (previously unknown) family-friendly guidelines . . .

  The fact that it even needs to be stated plainly that “according to the rules of my tribe, being 62 puts me 12 years past my best before date” strategically planted atop a photo of a hot torso in “Work # 904: Twelve Years a Ghost” (2014) should be indictment enough in exposing ageism as the last acceptable prejudice. I guess I must have touched a nerve when the piece was exhibited (by a curator old enough to known better) far enough away and high on a wall in the furthest back corner of the gallery . . . Fine, I’m a sixty-three year old, half lame, three-quarters deaf, widowed gay man with a cardiac condition, full dentures, horrible eyesight and rapidly developing cataracts; I acknowledge those facts. But that doesn’t make me, as is said in Yiddish, ein alter kocker – and old shitter!

  The scenario presented in “Work # 918: Ash [and] Tray” (2014), from the same series as “Work # 864: The Nature of God” and    

                dredged up from deep within my unconscious, was enacted several times over the course of one sultry evening at the Crash ‘n Burn in the summer of 1977. Toward the end of the line for the C’nB, the now fondly mythologized punk rock club brooding in the basement of its overlord the Centre for Experimental Art and Communication (CEAC), the crowd had become distressingly uptown (meaning north of Queen Street). Technically acting as the eyes and ears for the head office upstairs, the perpetrator of the heinous acts was me (drunk) and the instigator (drunker) was one Paul Bartlett (now deceased), a poor little rich boy with impossible-to-resolve daddy issues and (stupidly) the perpetrator’s soon to be boyfriend. That that sultry evening proved to be one of Mr. P.B.s more rational moments was soon to become apparent. That memory is both a weapon and a crutch led Jean Genet to claim that every man guards in himself his own particular wound. I don’t remember when the affair completely fell apart but I don’t think it lasted past that Christmas. To quote Francis Bacon, they say time heals, but I really wonder about that.”

  There’s nothing metaphorical in the least about the title of “Work # 943: Spider Web Sex Machine” (2015), it’s exactly what it says – two panels, one over the other; the top, a photograph of a spider’s web glinting in the sunlight and the bottom a no-nonsense advertising styled photograph of a sex machine. Discovering its existence of such a thing left me with the same sense of unease in not being entirely sure how this baroque contraption accommodates a human body as when I inspected close-up one of the pieces of fucking furniture custom-built for the future Edward VII. One assumes that Mr. Spider has gone out for beer and poppers because the web is as empty and inviting as the sex machine is peculiar and menacing.

  On March 28, 2016 I received the following email with the subject heading “Question about Work # 943“ from a fellow with residences in both Montreal and Berlin: “Hey There, You show a sex maschine [sic] in the Artworkt Nr 943 [sic] called Spider web sex machine' out of 2015. Do you know where to buy that machine from? [sic] maybe you can give me a website or a hint in what direction to go for more information about the machine.  Cant [sic] find any hint nowhere [sic] on the internet so far. Thanx a lot for your help. Greetz [sic] J___ B______ “. Two things came immediately to mind when I read this: 1) this is the first time I’ve ever been sent correspondence from a genuine pervert (cool!); and 2) both the deutchen grammaticus and the fractured syntax made my pants feel too tight. Of course I emailed him at once (!) with a couple of suggestions and that perhaps, if all else failed, he would be interested in purchasing the one-of-a-kind “Work # 943: Spider Web Sex Machine” (2015), which is a work of art . . .

  He never wrote back. Oh well. I tried.

  On an annual school trip to the Royal Ontario Museum before I had pubic hair, I recall lingering behind my other classmates when we got to the Greek and Roman galleries because of one sculpture in particular, a life-sized fragment of a man’s nether region with orange-sized testicles and globular glutes – feeling sweat and convinced I was the focus of knowing glances. I don’t think anyone noticed, but in my mind’s eye “Work # 956: David Was Horny” (2016) is how I imagined I looked staring up at David’s gigantic balls for the first time. It made me wonder whether or not male desire has really changed all that much from 1500 to the present, and while I have long delved into the question of the "gay sensibility", it’s never been either a trip down memory lane or a retreat into the stereotyped suck-and-fuck paradigm. I've positioned myself as an ironic spectator of this world of men ripped from the daily headlines where the 19th century notion of a romantic friendship has been kicked into the gutter. Herein lies the challenge: it is old news that the male body continues to be a provocation; but ironically, a critique of masculinity has gone largely unexplored, and embraces the proposition examined in much of my work that it should be possible to be simultaneously hot and sweaty and critical and detached. It is desirable – even exhilarating – to question the givens of our cultural baggage while at the same time allowing ourselves to be wrapped in its brawny arms.                                                                   Bruce Eves, April 2016

Bruce Eves is an artist living in Toronto. In past lives he was the assistant programming director of the Centre for Experimental Art and Communication (CEAC), art director of the New York Native and Christopher Street magazine, and the co-founder and chief archivist of the International Gay History Archive (now part of the Rare Books and Manuscript division of the New York Public Library).

[tpanan]

My Sunday Daily Blessings

July 9, 2017

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time (Roman Rite Calendar) 

Lectionary 100

First Reading: Zec 9:9-10

Thus says the LORD: Rejoice heartily, O daughter Zion, shout for joy, O daughter Jerusalem! See, your king shall come to you; a just savior is he, meek, and riding on an ass, on a colt, the foal of an ass. He shall banish the chariot from Ephraim, and the horse from Jerusalem; the warrior's bow shall be banished, and he shall proclaim peace to the nations. His dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth.

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 149: 1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13-14

"I will praise your name forever, my King and my GOD."

Second Reading: Romans 8:9, 11-13

Brothers and sisters: You are not in the flesh; on the contrary, you are in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in you.  Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him.  If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you. Consequently, brothers and sisters, we are not debtors to the flesh, to live according to the flesh.  For if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.

Verse before the Gospel: Matthew 11:25

Alleluia, Alleluia

"Blessed are you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth; you have revealed to little ones the mysteries of the kingdom."

Alleluia, Allelluia

Gospel: Matthew 11:25-30

At that time Jesus exclaimed: "I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to little ones. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him."

"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light."

**Meditation:

Do you want to know the mind and heart of God? Jesus thanks the Father in heaven for revealing to his followers the wisdom and knowledge of God. What does Jesus' prayer tell us about God and about our relationship with him? First, it tells us that God is both Father and Lord of the earth as well as heaven. He is both the Creator and Author of all that he has made, the first origin of everything. His authority, wisdom, and gracious care extends to every living thing, and his boundless love and goodness is directed to the welfare of each person made in his image and likeness. He is the source of all human life. That is why all fatherhood and motherhood is ultimately derived from him (Ephesians 3:14-15).

Pride - the root of sin Jesus's prayer contrasts the "wisdom of the world" with the wisdom which comes from above - from the Father of heaven who is all wise and good. Jesus' prayer contains an implicit warning that pride can keep us from the love and knowledge of God. What makes us ignorant and blind to the wisdom of God? Certainly intellectual pride, coldness of heart, and stubbornness of will shut out God and his wise rule and fatherly care for our personal lives. Pride is the root of all vice and evil and the strongest influence propelling us to sin against God and to do wrong to our neighbor. Sinful pride first vanquishes the heart, making it cold and indifferent towards God. It also closes the mind to God's truth and wisdom for our lives. What is pride's flaw? It is the inordinate love of oneself at the expense of others and the exaggerated estimation of one's own knowledge, power, importance and position over others.

Simplicity and lowliness of heart Jesus contrasts pride with child-like simplicity and humility. The simple of heart are like "little children" in the sense that they see purely and simply without any pretense or falsehood. They instinctively recognize their utter dependence and reliance on others - especially those who can teach and form them to live strong, healthy, mature lives. No one can grow in wisdom and maturity unless they are willing to be taught and formed in how to live wisely and to distinguish between good and evil, truth and falsehood.

Simplicity of heart is closely linked with humility - the queen of virtues that forgets oneself in order to love and serve others for their sake. The humble of heart are the freest of all - emptied of vanity and self-concern they can single-mindedly focus on the welfare of others. The Lord Jesus is our model. He proclaimed to his disciples, "I am gentle and lowly of heart" (Matthew 11:29). Jesus came "not to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for the many" (Matthew 20:28). Jesus' "gentleness" is not weakness or powerlessness. It is "strength under control" which is at the service of good rather than evil.

Jesus humbled himself to lift us out of our misery and slavery to sin in order to raise us up to glory with him and the Father. Jesus came not to bruise the weak but to heal, to pardon and not to condemn, to restore us to abundant life by defeating sin, Satan, and death. It was love for his eternal Father and for each one of us that motivated Jesus to humble himself to death on the cross in order to rescue us from slavery to sin and death. The Lord Jesus shows us the true path of love and victory, freedom and joy, through the cross that defeated pride and hatred, greed and selfishness, guilt and condemnation.

True humility - which is the opposite of false modesty or feeling bad about oneself - frees us to pursue what is good, right, holy, and true. Scripture tells us that God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble (Proverbs 3:34, James 4:6). Only the humble in heart can receive the wisdom which comes from God and the understanding of God's perfect goodness and plan for our lives. Do you acknowledge your utter dependence on God and do you trust him with your whole heart, mind, and being?

The greatest reward for those who seek the "summum bonum" or "greatest good" is to be united with God - the one and only true source of peace, joy, and happiness that will last forever.

Knowing God personally Jesus makes a claim which no one would have dared to make - he is the perfect revelation of God because he has been with the Father before all creation and time existed. He and the Father are united in an inseparable bond of love and unity. That is why Jesus alone can truly reveal the fullness of God's mind and heart and purpose for our lives.

One of the greatest truths of God's revelation and our Christian faith is that we can know the one true and living God. Our knowledge of God is not simply limited to knowing some things about God and his true  nature - we can know God our Father and Creator personally because God our Father desires to be closely united with each one of us in a bond of love through his Son, Jesus Christ. The Lord Jesus makes it possible for each one of us to have a personal direct relationship and experiential knowledge of God as our loving and gracious Father.

Through Jesus we have access to God the Father To see the Lord Jesus is to recognize and know the true nature of God and his personal love for us. In Jesus we see the perfect love of God - a God who cares intensely and who yearns over every man and woman whom he has created in his image and likeness (Genesis 1:26-27). God the Father loved us even while we were lost in ignorance and blinded by sin and pride. He sent us his Only Begotten Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, who freely gave up his life for us on the cross as the atoning sacrifice for our sins (John 3:16, 1 John 2:2, 1 John 1:7). Paul the Apostle tells us that Jesus is the image of God (Colossians 1:15). He is the perfect revelation of God - a God who loves us totally, unconditionally, and without reservation. What can separate us from the love of God? Only our own stubborn pride, willfulness, and rebellious attitude towards God and his will for our lives.

Jesus makes an incredible promise to those who acknowledge him as their Lord and Savior. If we pray in his name - the name Jesus means God saves - then the Father in heaven will hear us as if his only begotten Son was speaking to him directly. That is the unity, blessing, and promise he wishes for each one of us. And that is why we have the confidence and boldness to pray as Jesus taught his disciples, Our Father who art in heaven... give us this day our daily bread, and deliver us from temptation. Do you pray to your Father in heaven with joy and confidence in his perfect love and care for you?

The sweet yoke of Jesus What does the yoke of Jesus refer to in the Gospel (Matthew 11:29)? The Jews used the image of a yoke to express submission to God. They spoke of the yoke of the law, the yoke of the commandments, the yoke of the kingdom, the yoke of God. Jesus  says his yoke is "easy". The Greek word for "easy" can also mean "well-fitting". Yokes were tailor-made to fit the oxen well. We are commanded to put on the "sweet yoke of Jesus" and to live the "heavenly way of life and happiness".

Jesus also says his "burden is light". There's a story of a man who once met a boy carrying a smaller crippled lad on his back. "That's a heavy load you are carrying there," exclaimed the man. "He ain't heavy; he's my brother!" responded the boy. No burden is too heavy when it's given in love and carried in love. Jesus offers us a new kingdom of righteousness, peace, and joy. In his kingdom sins are not only forgiven but removed, and eternal life is poured out for all its citizens. This is not a political kingdom, but a spiritual one.

Freedom from sin and guilt The yoke of Christ's kingdom, his kingly rule and way of life, liberates us from the burden of guilt and from the oppression of sinful habits and hurtful desires. Only Jesus can lift the burden of sin and the weight of hopelessness from us - and give us a weight of love and glory in exchange. Jesus used the analogy of a yoke to explain how we can exchange the burden of sin and despair for a burden of glory and yoke of freedom from sin. The yoke which Jesus invites us to embrace is his way of grace and freedom from the power of sin. Do you trust in God's love and submit to his will and plan for your life?

Sources:

Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved. Neither this work nor any part of it may be reproduced, distributed, performed or displayed in any medium, including electronic or digital, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

**Meditations may be freely reprinted for non-commercial use. Cite copyright & source: www.dailyscripture.net author Don Schwager © 2015 Servants of the Word