#there are ancient beings on this site i just know it

[ryin-silverfish]

So You Want to Read More about Chinese Mythos: a rough list of primary sources

"How/Where can I learn more about Chinese mythology?" is a question I saw a lot on other sites, back when I was venturing outside of Shenmo novel booksphere and into IRL folk religions + general mythos, but had rarely found satisfying answers.

As such, this is my attempt at writing something past me will find useful.

(Built into it is the assumption that you can read Chinese, which I only realized after writing the post. I try to amend for it by adding links to existing translations, as well as links to digitalized Chinese versions when there doesn't seem to be one.)

The thing about all mythologies and legends is that they are 1) complicated, and 2) are products of their times. As such, it is very important to specify the "when" and "wheres" and "what are you looking for" when answering a question as broad as this.

-Do you want one or more "books with an overarching story"?

In that case, Journey to the West and Investiture of the Gods (Fengshen Yanyi) serve as good starting points, made more accessible for general readers by the fact that they both had English translations——Anthony C. Yu's JTTW translation is very good, Gu Zhizhong's FSYY one, not so much.

Crucially, they are both Ming vernacular novels. Though they are fictional works that are not on the same level of "seriousness" as actual religious scriptures, these books still took inspiration from the popular religion of their times, at a point where the blending of the Three Teachings (Buddhism, Daoism, Confucianism) had become truly mainstream.

And for FSYY specifically, the book had a huge influence on subsequent popular worship because of its "pantheon-building" aspect, to the point of some Daoists actually putting characters from the novel into their temples.

(Vernacular novels + operas being a medium for the spread of popular worship and popular fictional characters eventually being worshipped IRL is a thing in Ming-Qing China. Meir Shahar has a paper that goes into detail about the relationship between the two.)

After that, if you want to read other Shenmo novels, works that are much less well-written but may be more reflective of Ming folk religions at the time, check out Journey to the North/South/East (named as such bc of what basically amounted to a Ming print house marketing strategy) too.

-Do you want to know about the priestly Daoist side of things, the "how the deities are organized and worshipped in a somewhat more formal setting" vs "how the stories are told"?

Though I won't recommend diving straight into the entire Daozang or Yunji Qiqian or some other books compiled in the Daoist text collections, I can think of a few "list of gods/immortals" type works, like Liexian Zhuan and Zhenling Weiye Tu.

Also, though it is much closer to the folk religion side than the organized Daoist side, the Yuan-Ming era Grand Compendium of the Three Religions' Deities, aka Sanjiao Soushen Daquan, is invaluable in understanding the origins and evolutions of certain popular deities.

(A quirk of historical Daoist scriptures is that they often come up with giant lists of gods that have never appeared in other prior texts, or enjoy any actual worship in temples.)

(The "organized/folk" divide is itself a dubious one, seeing how both state religion and "priestly" Daoism had channels to incorporate popular deities and practices into their systems. But if you are just looking at written materials, I feel like there is still a noticeable difference.)

Lastly, if you want to know more about Daoist immortal-hood and how to attain it: Ge Hong's Baopuzi (N & S. dynasty) and Zhonglv Chuandao Ji (late Tang/Five Dynasties) are both texts about external and internal alchemy with English translations.

-Do you want something older, more ancient, from Warring States and Qin-Han Era China?

Classics of Mountains and Seas, aka Shanhai Jing, is the way to go. It also reads like a bestiary-slash-fantastical cookbook, full of strange beasts, plants, kingdoms of unusual humanoids, and the occasional half-man, half-beast gods.

A later work, the Han-dynasty Huai Nan Zi, is an even denser read, being a collection of essays, but it's also where a lot of ancient legends like "Nvwa patches the sky" and "Chang'e steals the elixir of immortality" can be first found in bits and pieces.

Shenyi Jing might or might not be a Northern-Southern dynasties work masquerading as a Han one. It was written in a style that emulated the Classics of Mountains and Seas, and had some neat fantastic beasts and additional descriptions of gods/beasts mentioned in the previous 2 works.

-Do you have too much time on your hands, a willingness to get through lot of classical Chinese, and an obsession over yaoguais and ghosts?

Then it's time to flip open the encyclopedic folklore compendiums——Soushen Ji (N/S dynasty), You Yang Za Zu (Tang), Taiping Guangji (early Song), Yijian Zhi (Southern Song)...

Okay, to be honest, you probably can't read all of them from start to finish. I can't either. These aren't purely folklore compendiums, but giant encyclopedias collecting matters ranging from history and biography to medicine and geography, with specific sections on yaoguais, ghosts and "strange things that happened to someone".

As such, I recommend you only check the relevant sections and use the Full Text Search function well.

Pu Songling's Strange Tales from a Chinese Studios, aka Liaozhai Zhiyi, is in a similar vein, but a lot more entertaining and readable. Together with Yuewei Caotang Biji and Zi Buyu, they formed the "Big Three" of Qing dynasty folktale compendiums, all of which featured a lot of stories about fox spirits and ghosts.

Lastly...

The Yuan-Ming Zajus (a sort of folk opera) get an honorable mention. Apart from JTTW Zaju, an early, pre-novel version of the story that has very different characterization of SWK, there are also a few plays centered around Erlang (specifically, Zhao Erlang) and Nezha, such as "Erlang Drunkenly Shot the Demon-locking Mirror". Sadly, none of these had an English translation.

Because of the fragmented nature of Chinese mythos, you can always find some tidbits scattered inside history books like Zuo Zhuan or poetry collections like Qu Yuan's Chuci. Since they aren't really about mythology overall and are too numerous to cite, I do not include them in this post, but if you wanna go down even deeper in this already gigantic rabbit hole, it's a good thing to keep in mind.

[lizardsfromspace]

So does anyone else know that someone bought Evermore Park, like, the park itself but seemingly not the brand bc their content is taking great pains to avoid referring to the park by any name ("this venue", "this place"), and they're embarking on renovations while being vague about what the new park is. I had heard but I just had their Youtube channel recommended to me, and it's...

Their main campaign is "Hatch the Egg", which is some kind of scavenger hunt with a $20,000 prize, but their Youtube channel is? For inexplicable reasons primarily a ghost hunting channel? With psychics and "sensitives" hunting ghosts they detect on the grounds of Evermore Park? Which they call a "historic venue" even though it was built in 2017, in a empty field? They have psychics detecting Dark Energies from the haunted doll, but did they tell them the old CEO bought haunted dolls bc they're haunted. They're pretending it's an ancient site of hauntings.

They've uploaded exactly one video about the renovations, and it's just a guy explaining how abandoned the park looks.

The psychic keeps detecting dark energies in unfinished areas and that's not ghosts that's Ken Bretschneider not paying his contractors. The spirits probably exposed his wires too

[juletheghoul]

Hi, thanks for continuously expanding the story of The General. I like reading it. :) I'm just wondering if you might feel like writing kind of like sci/fi time travel troupe where a woman (willfull and stubborn) from the present gets transported back to ancient Rome and meets Marcus Acacius. How would their dynamics be?

Obsessed with this, genuinely—I started a little something 👀

Not sure if I’ll continue it or make it into something big but I loved the idea of them not even understanding one another.

Hope you enjoy! 💕

(Not beta’d, barely proofread)

—

Warnings; threat of violence, language, shifting POV, plenty of historical inaccuracies I’m sure lol

Pairing; Marcus Acacius x Modern F!reader (time travel shenanigans)

Word count; 1.4k

-

The sigh doesn’t fix anything, but it helps with the frustration. So you let out another one, deeper than the original while you gather your wits. This was Rome, a massive city with millions of tourists trekking through it just like you, surely if they could do it without getting hopelessly lost, you could too.

The ruins were a maze, incredibly easy to get mixed up and turned around in. It was just a matter of retracing your steps and rejoining your group. Easy peasy.

With renewed optimism, you follow the sounds of people ringing through the remnants of the temple, or bathhouse, or gladiatorial training rooms… where the fuck even am I again?

You backtrack through the doorway, turning left into what must have been an antichamber, or dormitory? The mosaic under your feet isn’t familiar and a sense of dread creeps along your spine, should you have turned right? There’s a giant arch in the distance, one you distinctly don’t remember walking through. It doesn’t look as aged as the rest of the structure, most likely preserved when the site was excavated.

Walking through the arch fills you with a foreboding dread, like being dunked in ice water. It leaves you dazed, stumbling into the light of the sun almost drunk. An open door all but manifests and it’s with a relief so great it almost pulls tears from your eyes that you finally exit the building and step into the open air. You cannot help but laugh at yourself, embarrassed by your reaction, by the silly fear of getting lost.

The sun is hotter than you remembered it being when you left the hotel that morning and all at once the desire to explore and take in the culture all but evaporated. Resigned to abandon the tour, you decide to make your way back to the hotel. The new goal, the new prize for the day is a shower and an ungodly amount of pasta.

The road is nowhere to be found. The tourists have disappeared, and have been replaced with what looked to be actors. A fresh horror spreads through your veins, the exit you came out of must have led somewhere you were definitely not supposed to be.

-

He’d been called forth to deal with a strange situation. A woman had somehow infiltrated his camp. He frowned at the news, scoffing at the sentinel who’d brought it to him.

“A woman? Solitary? One woman snuck passed you and made her way into my camp?” He all but sneered at the soldier, anger pulsing in his head to learn that his guards were not as observant as he would have thought, as he trained them to be.

“General, by the Gods, we did not see her. One moment there was no one and then the next she was there, like some apparition.” He seems rattled, Acacius didn’t blame him. A lapse in protection meant death and dishonour. It meant his army was not in the shape it should be. Rome was not safe, not protected.

“Well, what has she to say for herself? What explanation did she provide for her miraculous presence here?”

“We do not know, we cannot understand her.”

He sighs. Anger bleeds into his tone when he orders her brought to him, dismissing the useless soldier in the process.

When they bring her to him, he frowns. Her robes confuse him, the fabric almost painted in the strangest shades, some he’s never even seen. She clutches at a bag, at a strange jar and although her voice is clearly agitated and angry, he cannot understand the words she speaks. Her face is painted, eyes darkened with some sort of kohl, lips shiny with oil and for a moment he thinks she might be one of the women who sold herself.

“Peace, woman.” He puts his hands up and speaks slowly, “I need to know where you come from, and why you are here. What is it you seek?” She twists her face in confusion, anger colouring her voice more still. She screams at him in more words he doesn’t understand until the soldiers that had brought her approach to no doubt silence her. At the sound of their footsteps her eyes widen with what he knows is genuine fear.

“Don’t.” He commands them, and they stop in their tracks. “Leave her with me. Go about your business, and tighten up the borders of this camp.” He sends them away with daggers in his voice.

“But General-what if she attacks?” They hesitate for a moment.

“I can handle her. Go.” They leave, her eyes follow them before turning back to him. She speaks again but he shakes his head.

“What am I to do with you then, hm?”

-

If you had known that you’d land in some insane fucking ancient Roman reenactment, you would have stayed in the hotel.

The older man is really into his role, some high and mighty soldier or general on a power trip or God fucking knows what, holds you in his tent. You try to explain to him calmly and then not so calmly that this is a mistake, that you didn’t mean to crash their party and that you just want to make it back to the hotel. He frowns, and shakes his head with confusion. He responds in his own language, what you imagine is Latin and the frustration floods you once more.

“If you cannot help me, I will leave. I’ll just go back through the stupid building and see if I can catch up with my tour group. If they haven’t already left, God if I missed my shuttle I will lose my fucking mind.” With a sigh you clutch at your bag and turn towards the entrance. You don’t make it three steps before he grabs at your arm, holding you in place with what sounds like a stern warning.

“Listen, I appreciate the realism and everything here, but let go, I need to leave.” You try to shake out of his grip but it’s iron, his big hand tightens enough to hurt.

“You’re hurting me, let me go!” With a growing fear, you try harder until he pulls a knife from a hidden pocket and presses it to your throat. He points to the entrance, to you, and then presses the tip to your neck once more.

You cannot understand his words, but the warning is crystal clear. If you leave, he will kill you.

“Intellego?” You can infer what he must mean, and so you nod. He returns the gesture and puts the knife away. He moves about the tent while you stand there, arms aching from clutching at your things, body trembling with fear and adrenaline at his threat of violence. He continues speaking, his deep, clear voice filling the space while he moves things around and gestures to a giant scroll.

Stuck like a fly in honey, you watch him pointing and talking, half listening while you try to formulate an escape route.

He comes close with a huff, pulling you gently towards his table.

It looks like a map, but it’s not like any map you’ve ever seen.

“What the fuck am I meant to be looking at here?”

He continues speaking, pointing at the map, and then gesturing outside. He points again, at a different spot and then to himself.

“Oh.. okay you’re from here?” He nods, then he takes your hand and puts it on the map, repeating his words and you can assume he’s asking you to point out where you come from.

“Dude I don’t know, this map is wild as hell and about a thousand years out of date from the looks of it.” You move your hand away but he persists, a bulldog with a bone. He takes your hand and puts it on the map, then taps your chest, asking his question once more.

“I’m not on this map!” You tap your chest, and then to the edge of the map, “I’m not here, we’re not on the map yet. Understand?” You gesture again, pointing to an empty edge, and point to yourself.

The look on his face is almost funny, he’s either really committed to his role, or this is the weirdest fucking dream you’ve ever had.

He’s quiet after that, ruminating, studying you with a critical eye and after the day you’ve had you don’t have the patience. You sit in one of the chairs, resigned to endure the ride until you find an opportunity to get off, and away as quickly as you can.

-

Tag list; @frannyzooey @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl20 @sleep-tight1 @sherala007 @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @maxwell--lord @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @stevie75 @readsalot73 @pedrostories @tobealostwanderer @mandocrasis @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @magikfanatic @frankiecatfish @pedritoispunk @studythoreauly @missswriter @pintsizemama @mswarriorbabe80 @a-trial-run-on-paper @la-le-lu @chickadee-djarin @dobbyjen @rosiefridayrogersunday @ajeff855 @johnsrevelation @the-witty-pen-name

[ramp-it-up]

II Most Wanted Pt.I: And I don't know what you're doin' tonight…

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The feeling and flashbacks you get when you saw your high school boyfriend Jake Syverson at your 20 year reunion was quite the unexpected twist in your orderly life.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, Angst, pining, body image issues, flashbacks, horny teenagers doing horny things (over 18 tho) heavy petting, fingering, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of breakups, teenage mean girl behavior, the Powerpuff Girls, old automobiles, mentions of drug abuse and difficult childhoods, 20 year high school reunion, drinking, swearing. Explicit description of sex acts. Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: This is the first installment of II Most Wanted. This is also my first fic in nearly half a year. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-------

June 2024

The visceral reactions started as soon as you entered the parking lot. There it was, Sy’s 1978 white Ford Bronco. Not thinking, you pulled into the space right in front of it, wanting to look inside. You almost lost it when you saw the old charm hanging from the rear view mirror. You couldn’t believe he still had that.

Especially with everything that happened since you put it there.

April 2004

“I claim this ancient truck as my throne!”

You were lit and in love, parked with Sy at the lookout. You were also silly and giggly from smoke and hormones.

“Mmmmm, careful Buttercup.” 

Your boyfriend growled in your ear, making you shiver against him. His attempt at menace was thwarted by the smile you felt against your neck, where he was busy marking you up, a sure sign later for everyone to know who you belonged to.

Sy was known for making bloody the face of those who expressed hate for his beloved Betty Bronco. But you had him whipped.

“It’s a classic, but I’ll let that slide...” 

He wished that you would let him slide, but you were adamant that you weren’t ready to be a parent. He was adamant that that didn’t have to be the outcome, but beneath the red blooded country boy was a gentleman. Sy would never do anything you didn’t want to, not that it stopped him from trying to convince you to admit that you in fact, wanted it as much as he did.

He wasn’t wrong.

You sighed as you placed the Powerpuff Girl necklace you got from Hot Topic on Sy’s rearview as you sat on his lap, giving him a treat. He had you in his grip by the hips and he was subtly moving you against his boner. The attraction between you two was heady, and he almost got what he wanted plenty of times. But you were a romantic and wanted it to be special. You promised him prom night, and Sy couldn’t wait.

“..Driving me crazy, Baby. You can put anything on my rear view as long as you let me get your rear view in the back seat….”

You giggled.

“You’re so corny, Sy.”

You whispered as you turned your head and kissed him over your shoulder. 

“Hmmmm. And you’re so sweet.”

Sy’s sea blue eyes gazed at you as he licked his lips.

He was crazy for you. And you were for him. You felt it. And you just knew you’d be together forever. You grinned as you climbed over him into the back seat. Didn’t hurt to fool around a little, even if you weren’t gonna give him the p that night.

——————

You shook out of the memory as a warm June breeze whipped your short skirt around your thighs. You pulled on the yellow and white designer dress as you contemplated driving back to your hotel and changing. This dress was not a good idea. The triumphant feeling of serving looks when you appraised yourself in the mirror was replaced with anxiety. The dress was too short and you were not the same size you were in high school. Thighs you considered pretty and thick in the mirror just an hour ago seemed massive and you tugged at the deep plunge of the neckline without a bra.

You sighed as you tried to center yourself. You told yourself that you were growing out of negative self talk, especially in the last seven years since your divorce. You were reminded of your promise to never care about the, male gaze again. It just wasn’t worth it.

But you hadn’t been under Jacob Syverson’s gaze in 20 years.

——

Sy posted up at the bar, blue eyes taking in the scene of his former classmates reuniting. He downed his two fingers of Maker’s Mark and asked for another. His heart rate was up as he scanned the room, eyes going back to the door again and again. He was waiting for you. No use in denying it to himself. He wanted to see you again, and more. It was his one objective. An objective he was unsure of attaining.

He was more nervous about being in a hotel ballroom tonight than in Afghanistan. 

Christ, he felt like that 17 year old kid again who first laid eyes on you.

——-

August, 2003

Sy knew what he wanted the moment he saw your face. 

You stopped the world when you first stepped into his British Literature class the first day of senior year. He was seated and talking with his best friend and wide receiver, Jeremy Atkins, when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He let the conversation about which route they should run at the scrimmage that afternoon slip as his eyes lighted on your face. You were anxious, but trying not to let it show. Those eyes held fire, and your lips…

…well your lips besides being everything he dreamt of, he just knew the words that came out of your lips would light someone up as well. He could tell you had spirit by the way you carried yourself.

Your hair was wild and shoulder length, bangs swept aside for vision, and you couldn’t hide that body under your baggy clothes. He lasered in on the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your graphic tee, and power that  the strip of skin between your shirt and your baggy jeans was not lost on him. He was a 17 year old male, after all.

Sy shifted in his seat as he leaned back and grinned to himself when you scanned the room, glaring at anyone who looked askance. He tapped his pencil on the desk to try to get your attention but you just ignored him as the group of seatless students surrounding you dwindled. You were left alone under the scrutiny of soulless cretins, otherwise known as teenagers. 

You gave each one brazen enough to stare at you a side eye, but you stopped when you finally noticed Sy smirking at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, causing him to choke on a chuckle.

Becca Ferguson, Sy’s girlfriend, kicked him in the leg after noticing that not only Sy, but Jeremy were openly staring at you. Shit, he’d forgotten about her. He caught the way her eyes cut over to you, and he knew what came next. He tried to distract her with a flip of the shelf of his blown out curls and a smile, something that had worked many times before. 

But you were a threat to Becca now; she had to do something about you.

You raised your head high as you walked to the seat that Mrs.Beatty pointed out. You passed down the aisle between Sy and Becca, who scrunched up her face as if she smelled something bad. Sy got a whiff of you and you smelled divine, like that Sweet Pea bath gel stuff that he played off sniffing when he went to the mall with Becca. 

His head turned.

Becca glared at him and he turned toward the front of the room, where the teacher had started to pass out the syllabus. 

—--

June 2024

Just like lunch on the first day of school at Central High all those years ago, Carla and Tiffani engulfed you and took you under their wings when you walked into the Marriott, the venue for your reunion. They crowed over you; your hair, your dress, your glow. You forgot any anxiety that you were feeling about how you looked. These were your best friends. Your Bubbles and Blossom.

These women filled the gaping place in your heart torn open from attending 10 different schools from K-12, following your mother’s loves and whims when she didn’t take her meds, or when she self-medicated. They were your soul sisters. And you still kept in touch even though distance separated you.

Carla had that grin on her face while Tiffani expressed her excitement that you were in town.

“Girl! I am so glad that you made it!” 

Tiffani was the gentle one.

“Yeah, I owe Tiff a c-note, because I was sure you’d chicken out.”

Carla laughed at you while you scowled at her.

Tiffani tskd at her bestie, and took your arm while Carla took the other and they ushered you through the doors of the ballroom.

“Well, she has a new job in town and everything, she had to come.”

“Yeah, she had to come to town, but coming tonight is a wholeeee different story.”

You laughed.

“I don’t have the job yet, Tiff. Interview is Monday. And why wouldn’t I come tonight?”

The familiar banter was back, as if 20 years was no matter at all between you and your girls.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you and Carla peered over her shoulder and then smirked at you. She jerked her head back.

“Because of that.”

You looked over your shoulder, smiling right before your stomach dropped.

There was Jake Syverson, all grown up, and staring at you as if all this time hadn’t happened.

—-

Sy saw you enter the ballroom and he almost wanted to run away. Being in country on a dangerous mission was nothing compared to the thought of actually facing you again.

At least he was trained for war. 

Love was another thing entirely.

He took a deep breath as he focused on you. You had always been beautiful, but now, as a grown woman, you were absolutely gorgeous. Your hair was sleek and your face was perfectly beat with makeup that accentuated your natural beauty. You were glowing and that smile was…everything.

As he leaned on the bar and scanned the rest of your body in that dress, he took another drink. Sy indeed felt 18 again, because his body was reacting as if he were a randy teenager. Your body was everything he remembered, and more. More of everything he remembered loving and lusting over 20 years ago. 

“Damn.”

He said it out loud and the bartender replied.

“Agreed, Brother.”

Sy looked at the young man admiring you who couldn’t be over 25, and threw down some money.

“Watch it, kid.”

That little bit of jealousy fueled Sy’s bravado, and he found the courage to step to you. 

—--

You froze like a deer in headlights. 

Over the years, you imagined seeing him again, in all different kinds of scenario, and you thought you could handle it, but the reality of the situation just about knocked you on your ass. Time stopped as you stared at him. 

Sy was more handsome with age, if that was possible. His eyes, his shoulders, his hair! His gorgeous curls were short and a shock of hair was growing from his chin. Your body reacted as your traitorous brain instantly thought of how his beard would feel on certain parts of your body. He looked good in a suit, but he was massive. You had on heels, but Sy seemed bigger than you remembered. He wasn’t the lithe high school quarterback you remembered.

You unconsciously walked closer. 

He was taller. 

But he was also huge: bigger muscles, thicker limbs; his body seemed more powerful all the way around.

Heaven help you.

And the way he was looking at you as if he still owned you, as if all everything that happened hadn’t happened. As if all these years…

Your arms went out to Carla and Tiff beside you for some support, but they were gone, and you stumbled a bit. Sy grabbed your arm quickly as you laughed to play it off.

“Hey Buttercup. You good?”

Goodness, his voice!

How could that damn drawl be deeper and sexier than you remembered? And his touch on your skin felt familiar, yet strange, like a touch from a dream. What was happening to you?

“I need a drink.”

Sy was silent for a bit as you got your drink and had a sip. The way you licked your lips made him want to fall to his knees and beg.

—--

May 2004

“Please, please, please Buttercup. Just let me put the tip in. I promise I won’t move. It wouldn’t really be doing it…”

Sy was whispering in your ear and you were mute, waiting to hear more as your pussy pulsed in your jeans, the grind against his crotch delicious torture.

“I dream about it, Buttercup. I feel you, Baby. So fucking wet for me. I just know that it would feel so, so so good. I’d slip right in.”

It was midnight on your 18th birthday and you were in the Bronco, letting Sy feel you up under your panties for the first time. Your head was thrown back and your eyes rolled at how good it felt. You didn’t know how you would hold out. But it was just three weeks until Prom.

You were sat on his lap and he had one hand down your jeans and one up your shirt.

He pistoned his hips up, causing your back to arch against his chest. You could feel his heart beating a mile a minute.. Sy’s voice lowered to a whisper.

“‘M Gonna taste my fingers, Buttercup. Watch.”

You opened your eyes as Sy pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth. You whined when he closed his eyes and moaned. You throbbed. It had never been like this before.

“You are so delicious… Need more…”

Sy pushed his hand back down into your pants to get you to do that arch again. It sent him feral to see that for some reason.

His fingers found the source and circled it, causing your body to tense up and your fingers to grab his arms.

“Oh my god! Sy!”

You’d come close to this feeling before just grinding with him on the back seat, but this was incomparable.

Your fingernails sunk into his forearms, creating marks for sure. This fueled him even more as he continued his ministrations at your core. He toyed beneath your bra and your mouth opened to seek oxygen as the feeling in your belly continued to tune you to a fever pitch.

“Yes…. Baby….. fuck… You gonna cum on my lap?”

“Hunnnh, hunnh, hunnnh!”

“You’re so fucking hot… I’m about to jizz in my pants… cum for me, Baby…”

Sy grinded against your bottom, and you stiffened while the world’s most wonderful feeling washed over you. You cried out as Sy pinched your nipple and you came, feeling as if the Bronco was caught up in the Wizard of Oz Twister. The world was certainly now in color when you could open your eyes.

Sy held you, watching your beautiful face as you pouted and came back to earth. When you did, your smile was worth all the gold in the world to him. He kissed your temple and slipped his hand out of your pants, sucking your juices off of them again.

You were about to jump him, but Sy interrupted your thought.

“Now that you’ve got a preview of Prom night, let’s get you home, Buttercup. Gotta get your beauty sleep for the festivities later on tonight.”

—-

Sy cleared his throat after staring at you silently for a solid three minutes. The way you licked your lips clean and focused on him was some powerful magic.

“So. How have you been, Sy? How is the family?”

You tried to keep any bitterness out of your voice. The fact that Becca Spurgeon ruined your prom (and your relationship with Sy) by announcing that she was pregnant with Sy’s baby after she was crowned Prom Queen and he Prom King was something you’d tried to get over for 20 years. 

Sy straightened up and looked over your shoulder. You glanced in that direction to see Carla and Tiffani hovering protectively. 

“Well, now Buttercup, that’s a long story. I know you want to hang with your friends. And I don’t know what you’re doin’ later tonight, but I would like to go somewhere quiet and talk about it.”

——

If you like it, hit Reblog!

Next part here.

[ive-been-timebombed]

CHAPTER FOUR

Big emotional moments here.

Oh Danny knew he screwed up the moment he appeared back in his throne The line that went out the door was gone also. Most likely the ghosts sensed the emotions Danny projected onto his haunt and the ghosts scattered not wanting to deal with the nervous and scared ghost king.

He wasn’t thinking when he disappeared at the loud crash! He left his son in a mess! Oh no! But his kid wasn’t scared when he left. So the glass breaking was normal? Oh how he wished he could go back and time and take care of the kid.. but he couldn’t no matter how much he begged Clockwork he knew that. Not to say he didn’t try.. Clockwork didn’t even let him watch his kid grow up.

Danny should visit his baby later. When the helmet thing is off. He can take care of the core problem as he does so. His baby doesn’t know who he was. He didn’t leave a picture or anything with Catherine but the kid did mention something about a picture.. maybe he should go as human? So the kid doesn’t realize he’s the same ghost! Perfect idea!

________

Jason was furiously typing on the laptop. He was searching all he could about ‘The Ghost King’ ‘Phantom’. The only thing coming up was Pariah Dark and a autocorrect to Fenton when he typed a bit too fast.

The link that came up with Fenton said something with ghost so he clicked it. That led him into a black hole of information that just seemed biased. He read all the articles published by the scientists. Then in 2006 they started mentioning a ghost.. a certain ghost that Jason was just looking for.

FENTON WORKS

All the information and weapons you need about ghosts! We are happy to say we have figured out what exactly what ghosts are! This site is made by the Fenton Family.

(Picture of a family of 4. A bigger man than Jason himself in bright orange. A fit woman in blue with ginger hair. The older teen with ginger hair like her mother and a cyan headband. Then a younger teen with black hair like the father and frankly skinny considering his parents.)

Click here to read more

Click here to buy things

Click here to contact us

Jason learned a lot of information about Phantom and the Fentons.. Jason now just needed to find a way to summon the ghost once again and make him talk. The ghost seemed nice and not destroy the world just because he could type of being. Then again Jason wasn’t the most.. sane? Normal? Person to ask about what is normal and not normal. He would ask Dick but he was still likely drugged and concussed. He didn’t want to deal with that. Not to mention Dick also wasn’t normal.

___________

“What the ancients..” Danny muttered looking at himself in the mirror. He transformed back to his human form not even a hour ago and he’s already regretting it. He still looked like his 20 year old self. He didn’t age a day from when he first transformed. The clothes were even the same he left in.. he could only pin point a few differences on his body. Like the more ghostly attributes. The pointer ears, sharper teeth, and paler skin.

Danny knew he should’ve shifted between forms more but it just didn’t seem right without the kid next to him..

—————

“Daaaa! Deeee!” A child’s yelling pierced the air followed by a loud crash then a giggle.

“I’m coming! I’m old- okay. Accept it while you still can.” A young man’s voice came followed by a black hair with white on the back young adult. The man had icy blue eyes and a scar on his bottom lip. The child the man was talking to looked like him.

The child had curly black hair not a hint of white unlike his father. Darker blue eyes that seemed to shine when he saw his father. Chubby cheeks and stubby fingers. The kid was wearing a shirt that had the words ‘I’m just outta this world. Floating by the stars’ surrounded by stars. Along with jean pants and a gray jacket. The shoes stuck out due to the bright yellow color of the rain boots.

“Oh don’t give me that look.. I know I’m only 20! You make me feel 50 years older than I am. Specially with all your sass.” Danny put his hands on his hips and looked down at the kid.

“Aunt Cathy say it comes from you.” Jason put his hands on his hips and looked up at the kid.

“I know it did. I can’t blame anyone else but myself and it’s horrible.” Danny huffed sticking his tongue out at the child which was followed by the kid doing the same to the young adult.

Suddenly the mood changed and Danny’s expression changed into a more somber one. He couched down and looked at the kid.

“Jason, you know how I sometimes leave you with you Aunt Cathy?” Danny felt horrible. His core hurt and he wanted to hug the child and not let go.

“Yeah? But Daddy always comes back so I ain’t scared!” Jason grinned moving forward and putting both hands on the adults face.

“Jason what I say about the hands and other peoples faces?” Danny brought his hands to the kids and pulled the hands off his face but didn’t let go of the kids hands.

“Not to do it.. but don’t worry! I only do it to you!” Jason hopped on his feet unable to stay still like any child.

“Okay, you’re such a bully.” Danny deadpanned, “This is serious Jason, I don’t think I’m coming back this time.”

“What? No. Daddy you gotta come back. You can’t leave .” Jason looked up at his father not really understanding the situation .

“I don’t want to kid but I want you safe and I’m not that.” Danny pulled his son into a hug burying his face into the curly mess that was on top of Jason’s head. He stood up picking up the toddler his arms surrounding the other in a tight hug.

Danny knew it was stupid to say this while he still had the child. He should’ve just left the kid at Catherine’s and not return. But then he thought about the kid getting all ready to come back to him waiting at the door with his to big backpack only for him not to return. He didn’t want that for the kid. He didn’t want his kid to be sitting in front of the door sad because he couldn’t understand what was happening and why his father wasn’t there. He wanted just a bit longer with his child.. even if it was in tears.

————

Jason was sure he had the right man. The scar was exactly the same. It was a line on the bottom right lip the that split into two at the bottom. He didn’t know what to think of the being.. his father? From what his Ma told him. Catherine not Shelia. His father was a good man. A bit too sarcastic for his own good but it also made him funny. He had weird ways of saying things. Never used a saying right or just made it his own. He had a slight lisp and had an accent. Couldn’t cook to save his life and hated toast. Hurt himself with stupid things but was incredibly smart. Could turn a microwave into a gun in a hour alone.

Jason wondered if he got some of those qualities.? Before he died and turned into a monster. Dick always said he had a lisp and used some words wrong. Like fruit loop and ancients.. apparently he used one as an insult and the other as a replacement for some words.

@boopjuice

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 7: Sphinx

Sphinx are my personal horror. Like, they actually manage to scare me. So... I tried to make them more likable for me, although it makes me add more fiction to an already existing concept :')

Prompt: Sphinx | Riddles // Sand // Giant Warnings: Yandere, Fem!Reader (Gets called "girl" only once but I should probably leave a note here), Violence (Sharp Teeth, Claws, Mention of Death, Mention of being buried alive, Being mauled to death (not the main character)), Monster and Monster Characteristics, Long Post

"Please... Please, you got to help me!"

Your sobs grew louder as you fell to your knees before the giant creature, your hands latching onto her paw, and for some reason, she didn't use it to crush you right then and there. Perhaps it was the desperation in your voice, or maybe the guardian of the ancient resting place of so many of your ancestors was weak to tears. Still, she didn't even growl despite you bursting into her sanctuary unannounced and, frankly, rudely.

Following the tales and warnings you had received since childhood, you should have acted properly and with dignity. But instead, you were inconsolable as you sobbed into her fur. Something about the image of the great sphinx and you, a mere human at her feet, had comical traits of one of the performances you made at the theater. However, what you once loved so much was now the furthest thing on your mind.

"Child of Man, do not sully my fur so," the sphinx finally spoke, and you rose from her paw, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

"I'm so sorry, Great Protector. But I just don't know what to do."

The sphinx shook her paw as if to get rid of the tears you had wetted it with before she sat down on her rear legs. Even though you knew she was alive, you couldn't help but feel like she was a golden monument. The statue of a god you were praying to—truly, as she was your last hope.

"Pray tell your worries then. I've been visited so little by your kind in the last years, it shall dissolve my boredom."

"They want to marry me off!" you explained bluntly, and her slitted pupils expanded upon hearing this before she closed her eyes altogether. Her whole body collapsed as she roared bellowing laughter at your misery. More tears—this time from frustration and disappointment—flooded your eyes. You couldn't even defend yourself with the sound of her laughter carrying far and wide through the cliffs all around the burial site, echoing and resounding, slapping you with her mockery.

"That's it?" she asked dismissively, making it clear your concerns weren't hers. "You come to me with a matter so trifling? Why should I care, Human, who you are to marry?"

"Because he's old!" you screamed against her roars, and though not disappearing completely, her laughter grew more subtle, turning into chuckles.

"So? Is that not desirable? Do you not wish to part ways with a man you don't want?"

It was nearly impossible to hold back your raging feelings of despair and anger and temper yourself. You should have expected her not to be indulgent to your whims, but you still had hoped as she was a protector. Leaning her head down to you, she twisted it from side to side, staring at you expectantly as she waited for your answer. Her lips parting to reveal her fangs should have made you quickly gather your bearings and leave, but you simply couldn't.

Death by being eaten, perhaps, was more merciful than what this marriage would be.

"They'll bury me with him."

Shoulders slumping, you looked down, staring at the sand softly clouding on the ground as the sphinx moved to stand before you properly again. This time, you didn't face her. Instead, you listened to the ruffling of her fur, wishing you could bury yourself in it instead. Of course, the great sphinx was no pet, but she resembled the cat you once called your own with her brown fur. It made you want to seek comfort.

"He won't make it very long anymore, and his last wish is to be married. My family couldn't refuse receiving most of his estate in exchange for my hand in marriage, but now they won't even reconsider, knowing the family plans to bury me with him—alive!"

The sphinx hummed, sitting back down again, which made more sand clouds rise, and you looked up, straight into her eyes watching you.

"It is the way of all things except mine. You would not wish for a life as long as I have. Why defy your fate?"

"Because it's too early!" you protested weakly, letting out a sigh.

"I studied to perform at the theater, to sing and dance. I worked my way up in society, and there was no one who aided me! They are all my accomplishments! And I barely had a chance to showcase what I can do and what I have studied so hard for! All I did cannot lead to me pitifully ending in the tomb of a man I didn't ask to marry!"

You sighed, shaking your head. Clasping your hands together in the motion of a prayer, you held them above your head, bowing to her as you made your final attempt at pleading with her. It almost seemed lost, but you couldn't sink deeper than you already had.

"They are coming for me soon. They always feared I'd run away, so they'll not stop their pursuit until they find me here, where I am asking, for once in my life, for help. Your help. Please, Great Sphinx, find it in you to aid me!"

"I see," she finally relented, and your pulse quickened while you tried not to get your hopes up. Her understanding meant little when she decided not to take action. "Then what do I gain?"

Your breath escaped you as you looked up at her, trying to wager her thoughts. What was there you could give? A monster's help never came cheap, but it was much easier to figure out what they wanted by letting them tell you, their instincts never betraying them, unlike how humans acted on greed and desire.

"What do you want?"

Her tail flicked in the air, smashing and rattling the ground she sat on. Briefly, she averted her eyes, rolling them unnaturally slowly in their sockets as she thought, but soon enough, her lips split into the uncanny grin that suited her well as she came to her conclusion.

"You'll solve my riddle. If you can't, you die here and now and feed me." Her grin widened, sharp teeth glistening between them as if she enjoyed the thought.

"If you solve it, I will ask the same riddle to your pursuers once they come here. If they answer it correctly, I will eat them, and you are free to go, but if not, you will stay here for as long as I wish, amusing me with your song and dance while I get to feed on those that come to get you. Is that a deal you want to make, Child of Man?"

"Yes," you replied, not thinking twice. In reality, you were nervous, your heart thumping out of your chest, ribs aching. But you had come prepared, and you knew that it was possible for the sphinx to give you a riddle, her favorite pastime. Getting to your feet, you braced yourself, noticing how the fur of the creature ruffled in excitement or perhaps the anticipation of a good meal. Regardless, you told yourself to not be discouraged by her confidence.

"Then tell me, what means more to you than it does to me?"

You knew there was no time limit on the question. And yet, you felt the pressure of the sphinx awaiting your answer with hunger in her stomach and desire in her eyes. Reckoning that she wasn't as malicious as the childhood stories made her out to be, didn't help you in the face of your demise. She may have enjoyed having her riddle solved, but to her, it didn't really matter as she came out as the winner. Only for you was it a matter of life and death, and...

"My life..." you whispered out loud, the thought escaping you before you could hold yourself back. Even with your hand clasping over your mouth could you not take back the involuntary answer you gave the sphinx, and she cackled maniacally at your mistake.

"Correct," she purred, settling down on all fours and bumping her enormous head against your body, just like a cat would. Curling your hands into fists, you resisted the urge to pet her, the sound of her purring rumbling through the ground.

"You may stand beside me, for they are coming. Their armor is such a bothering ringing in my ears, yet it will save them from nothing."

An enormous boulder fell off your shoulders, even bringing forth a small smile as you quickly moved forward, positioning yourself next to her paw again. Strangely enough, it was the safest place for you at that moment, and you held onto her fur as the rattling of armor and shouting reached you that she had long heard.

"It's not usually so lively here," the sphinx sighed, her tail flicking and whirling up more sand.

"But it is, always, someone's grave."

"So, what will it be?" the sphinx asked, impatiently waiting for the answer from the four men who had been debating over the riddle for way too long. They felt the pressure, too, you were sure.

Although they made their intentions clear that they were here for you, speaking reverently and dutifully to the sphinx, she told them they'd have to solve the riddle or die trying to tear you from her grasp. However, you didn't forget your own deal with her, and between checking if she was preoccupied, you had been gesturing to the men, trying to help them and yourself.

It felt terrible since you were trying to save yourself by sacrificing them, but it had to be done. At least, you wouldn't have to go back to your village either way, but staying with the sphinx and perhaps one day becoming her meal wasn't the consequence you wanted to have either.

So you pointed at yourself since they wanted you. Then you did the universal sign of chopping your head off to signal death. Death and life, the man should have understood it since they wanted you alive and well to marry the old man. And finally, you pointed towards them. Their life, that's all they had to say.

The sphinx had no reason to honor her promises, but at the same time, she didn't have a reason to save you either. Yet, here she was, doing it in a way that suited her, even if it was hard to believe that despite her monstrous appearance, giant size, and appetite for humans, she could be so benevolent.

"Have you decided yet?" she asked, changing up her question in hopes of making one of the men nervous enough to give an answer.

Surprisingly, one of them reacted, the youngest of the soldiers nervously stepping forward, wringing his hands and glancing back over his shoulder a few times to get confirmation.

"The... The girl," he answered, and you felt your body stiffen as he gave you a short smile, not knowing the verdict yet. However, the sphinx bristled in excitement, cackling like she had with your answer before she lowered her head, grinning at the young man.

"Wrong," she revealed, fangs snapping forward, and you yelped in horror and shock as you heard the crunching of bones and metal, one bite enough to break through the man's body. The sphinx got up on her four feet, and with an ease that shouldn't have been impossible for a body this big, she pounced on the others that screamed and readied their weapons, just not in time to fight her off.

Maybe you screamed as the men were ripped apart one by one, a fun hunt for the sphinx, but not so much for you who had to witness it.

Maybe you simply cowered in silence until their gurgles and crunching bones stopped resounding in the atrium of the ancient burial site.

"They are wrong, you know?" you heard the sphinx call out to you, and you slowly lifted your head, not wanting to see the carnage on the ground. But her face, smothered in blood and looking so much more horrific than it had before, wasn't easy to stomach either. The wind blew through the pillars surrounding the hall, dragging out the sand stained with the blood of innocent soldiers who had been sent to "rescue" you and the severity of the situation began to sink in.

You only felt the tears brimming at your eyelids, but you didn't spill them, not when you were almost worse off than these guys. The sphinx laid down next to you, separating you from the entrance and exit to her lair with her gigantic body. Letting you go was not her plan, and you had agreed to this arrangement without thinking twice.

"What about?" you asked dully, watching her very human face lick her blood-stained paws with the naturalness of any feline creature. You'd have to accept that about her if you were stuck here now. But the thought had yet to fully register.

"You mean a lot to me, even if they didn't think so. But at least I get to keep you now, and you'll be my little songbird."

Tears broke loose as you sacked to the floor, her tail flopping against the sand as you began sobbing miserably. And she let you, as she had from the very beginning. Was this an outcome she had anticipated? One she allowed to happen as the opportunity arose? You would have been dead had you not done anything, buried with the corpse of a man you didn't even know. But now that you were in this situation, you realized your death had always been predetermined.

You merely prolonged the fateful day that you'd be buried here.

[the-mandawhor1an]

Searching for the stars | Marcus Acacius x f!Reader

Summary: You're about to end your work day as an achaeologist, when a call comes in that will change your life forever. Who would've guessed that the stranger causing havoc on your excavation site in the middle of the night could end up being the very owner of the villa that has long been buried.

Words: 2.7k

Tags: Time travel; Marcus is a little drunk; Mentions of death; Yeah that's it this time around.

Speech in italics indicates that Latin is being spoken.

Notes: At long last, my entry for @burntheedges's Roll a trope challenge! My trope was time travel with Marcus. I know, I know. There's not much and this thing here ended up being soooooo cliffhangery. But I've decided I will revisit these at a later point, so consider this the pilot chapter for a mini-series. I have more plot points open but I want to give them the attention they deserve, and I couldn't do that while also working on my costume project.

Comments etc. are appreciated, thank you to @rivnedell for beta-ing this for me.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Have you ever looked up at the sky and wondered?

Wondered why the stars seem sad? 

They mourn the loss of their dear sisters

Who descended from the sky to sparkle in your eyes. 

I will make sure their departure was never in vain.

You are the light of my life. 

I love you.

It was dead of night, your head in your hands, leaning above an ancient tablet. The words carved into the semitransparent block of wax touched you in a way you never thought possible. A declaration of pure devotion and love, written by a man almost two millennia ago. This deep connection he felt for the woman he addressed these words to must have been unbreakable. A love like this must’ve been nice, you thought to yourself. To be practically worshiped by a man.

You leaned back into the backrest on your chair and rubbed your eyes. The clock over your desk, endlessly ticking, told you it was close to two in the morning, meaning you’d been up for 20 hours. Time to head to bed instead of yearning for men who had been dead for a long time. 

Just as you were about to switch off the light in your office, your cellphone buzzed in your pocket. “Philippe, what the fuck, it’s –” you started when you picked up the call from your coworker, turning silent when you heard the shouting in the background of the call. “Sorry, we need you at the site right now. We have an intruder.” There were several male voices in the background. How were you of any help there? “I don’t understand, can’t the police –” “Just come,” he urged. With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Fine, I’ll be down in a minute.” 

It had been a little longer than a minute until you approached the excavation site, hearing the shouting in the distance. The city was relatively quiet compared to the site, out in a field in the outskirts of Rome. Philippe waved you down, two security guards held a stranger, forced onto his knees, both arms in a death grip and his head forced to face the ground. He wore dirty, off-white robes, similar to the tunic a Roman would’ve worn underneath a toga. It didn’t look like a costume, either. “Drunkard, we found him stumbling along the ruins. He’s mumbling and we can’t tell if his accent is just super thick, or –” Just as he wanted to give you more insight, you heard the gravelly deep voice of the stranger. His words were slurred and you were tired, to it took a moment for your brain to register his words. 

“You’re on my land. LEAVE!” With a look of absolute bewilderment, you looked at the man, then to Philippe. “He speaks Latin?” “That or that’s the weirdest dialect I have ever heard. My Latin is rusty, I figured you’d still be up and might be able to help.” 

“This is your land?” You asked and knelt before him. His face was still turned to the ground, his breath was labored. “Yes it is, woman. Tell these men to get their hands off of me. What happened to my villa?” What a warm welcome. Something about his words made you wonder. You knew this villa belonged to a Roman general once. Said general had practically been an obsession of yours, so your heart started beating faster. With a nod you motioned the guard forcing his head down to take the hand away.    

“Woman?” Philippe asked. You turned to him for a second, still on your knees. “He claims to be the owner of this land. Asking us where his house has gone.” “What do you mean? The owner is a farmer.” “I think he’s trying to claim that he is … the general” Philippe roared with laughter, until he realized you meant it. “You actually think that is possible?” 

You turned back to the man. His breathing had calmed, but he was still mumbling to himself, about the gods, and something about the stars. Wait a second, the stars.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure if you should mention something that only the man he claimed to be would know. “Don’t you think the stars look sad tonight? I’ve been told they’re mourning.” His demeanor changed when he heard you refer to the poem you had been over for the past hours. His head turned upward slowly, almost like time was stopping, dark brown eyes finding yours. You recognized the strong facial features, although they were a lot dirtier right now. His gaze was still hostile, his forehead wrinkled, but a hint of confusion hid in his furrowed brows. You continued as you suddenly had his attention “They have lost sisters, haven’d they?” 

He swallowed, parting his lips to say something, but the words failed him. His eyes turned glassy. That might be the confirmation you had expected to see, although it pained you to see a man of his stature seem genuinely pained. He responded, “They mourn the ones that descended to sparkle in your eyes. How do you know that?” “You’ve told me… in a way. I found your scriptures, general,” you replied to him with a soft smile. It was cruel to quote what basically amounted to a declaration of love to his wife, but you figured this was something only he would have known. You looked at the two men still restraining him and asked them to let him go. He landed on his hands, not tearing his eyes from you. He was cautious, yet curious about the woman before him, speaking his language and knowing something only one woman should have known. 

“Where am I?” he asked. It was like the little interaction had sobered him up enough that he was coherent and beginning to understand his situation. If he could even understand, because you sure didn’t. “You’re in Rome. About 1800 years after your time. I’m sorry, this is probably not what you wanted to hear, General Acacius.” You straightened up, standing in front of him, offering a hand to help him up, which he declined. “You’re lying, this must be Elysium. Where is Astra?” He rose to his feet, unstably so, and stumbled into you. Your instincts kicked in and you put both hands on his chest, catching the falling body. “Astra is dead, Marcus,” you said, this time more empathetically and your eyes crossed paths again. He was so close that you could smell the wine in his breath and a hint of rosemary, possibly coming from his dark brown curls. “I know it sounds unbelievable, but please, allow me to prove it.” A strong heart was beating underneath your finger tips, his breathing was steady. Face turned downward, he watched your hands for a second until he locked eyes with you again and nodded. “Fine.” 

Accompanied by a very confused Philippe and security, you make it back to the temporary ‘head quarter’ which consisted of fully furnished, heated cargo containers. The stranger was, for the most part, cooperative but a little confused about his beloved city changing so much. Neither electricity nor any kind of wireless device was familiar to him, but he took the culture shock surprisingly calmly. Maybe he still thought he had passed, after all. 

As soon as the other men had left you after more than a couple of reassurances that you could handle the visitor, said lost soul regained his voice. “Show me the scripture,” he asked you, albeit in a rather demanding tone. “Right here,” you motioned over to your desk, where the tablet sat. He walked over and carefully swiped his fingers over the wooden frame that had saved the tablet from erosion over the years. “Please, be careful,” you urged, panic audible in your voice. Said relic was invaluable and probably one of your favorite discoveries of all. His hand removed from the delicate piece and he sighed deeply. The pain in his voice was palpable. “I wrote that as part of my marriage proposal for Astra. I am surprised it survived if this really is 1800 years old.” “I’m sorry you lost her. And I didn’t want to be so harsh out there, but that was the only way I thought I could verify your claim to be Marcus.” 

Marcus huffed and turned to face you, but something else piqued his interest. Right behind your back, there was a replica of one of the busts that depicted him. One of the first traces to his existence you had found in your career. The replica was made in ceramic, made to look like marble, but a lot less expensive and less delicate. 

He stared at the bust in disbelief. It had his armor on, looked similar to him, but still, what you were telling him didn’t make sense to him. You watched him from the side and were actually impressed how well the sculptor had managed to capture his features. His prominent nose, the strong brows, the serious look on his face. Even the fullness of his hair they had somehow managed to simulate despite the unmoving medium it was carved into. His hair war unruly after the fight with security, but the curls were still there. It was hard to deny that he was handsome, even more so in the flesh. 

"What do they say about me?" he asked calmly. His fingertips brushed over the sculpture’s hair. He pulled back, remembering how protective you had been over the wax tablet, but you nodded in silent reassurance that it was fine to touch. 

"You were a fierce warrior, but deep down you were a broken man, yearning to be reunited with your lover. You fought like you never feared death, in fact you would have embraced it, but the gods didn’t grant your wish. You might have never seen yourself as a man of words, but the few I found made your love for her very obvious. I’m really sorry that you lost her." 

A frown crept up to his lips with the mention of his wife. As much as the characterization fit, he hated that he was known for the pain he endured and the pain he caused. You saw the muscles in his jaw flex. "How did I die?" He turned back to you.

You shook your head. "We… never found out. You disappeared one night. The last accounts of sightings said you got drunk one night, stumbled across your estate and begged for the gods to have mercy, to take your life so you could be reunited with her. And you vanished. Some speculate you killed yourself in a nearby creek, or maybe died accidentally." 

"That was just before I woke up here," he said in confusion. His arms crossed in front of his chest, a sigh rumbling through his lungs. You couldn’t help but scan over his arms, so on display without any fabric covering his sunkissed, muscly biceps. 

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, mimicking his expression, more on accident than consciously. “I’m not a very religious person, especially as very little people believe in the Roman Gods any more, but… it would explain why you’re here. Maybe you need to do something here and then you get to be with her.” You couldn’t believe what you were saying, but he was here after all, and you were actually convinced that this was Marcus Acacius. If this was a dream and you had fallen asleep on your desk, this sure felt real, realer than any dream you ever had. 

“Perhaps,” he mumbled and wiped over his face with his right hand, never breaking eye contact with the statue. His gaze wandered to the walls, all of them plastered in hints about him, everything you found out about the general in your years of study. “You know a lot about me.” You nodded in response. ”Yes, I’m … a scholar. I studied history and you more specifically,” you explained, motioning towards the walls of information with your hand. It was odd, to say the least, to have your subject more or less in front of you. There was so much you wanted to ask him. You had to stop yourself though, the shock probably needed some time to settle for him. For you it would also take some time to accommodate to the fact you had a Roman General in your office. ”You are surprisingly calm for someone that just woke up 1800 years in the future,” you added as an afterthought. 

His dark brown eyes met your again. Gone was the drunk attitude and all that remained was a broken man. ”I thought I must be dreaming at first. But I could never imagine a world like this. And then I thought this might be Elysium and you were my guide” His lips curled into a soft smile. It seemed genuine, and you were impressed how open minded he was, given where he came from. It must have been extraordinarily strange to wake up here. Strange clothes, strange languages, artificial light and electricity. 

”You might want to get some rest. Sleep the wine off and start arranging yourself with the new environment. I will see if I can get you something to wear in the morning. Unfortunately you can’t stay dressed like this,” you motioned to his tunic. It might have been quite normal back then, but now? They would think he was some weird larper. 

”Do you live here?” he asked. You shook your head, a little confused by the question. ”My house isn’t far from here, though. A few minutes walk.” “And you will sleep here?” ”I prefer my bed to be honest, but it’s for the best if someone stays with you.” He made a little grunt before he said ”I won’t be trouble, go sleep in your bed.” 

You shook your head. “I know you mean well but I can’t leave you alone. This … place isn’t safe for someone who’s not familiar with anything.” He scoffed again, but didn’t press the issue further. 

You left the office for a second to get a mattress and a blanket to make yourself a little bed in front of the couch. You motioned for him to flop down on the couch before laying down next to the sofa on the small mattress. ”We’ll get some clothes for you tomorrow. I’ll take you to my house so you can wash yourself,” you said with a yawn. Marcus turned to look at you, his gaze was intense like he was studying you. 

”What is it?” you asked him when his staring lingered for way longer than necessary. ”Are all women today strange like you? Why are you helping me?” was all he asked. Well. Why did you? ”You’re stuck here,” you started, looking at the ceiling. “I might be the only person that can maybe help you find whatever you’re supposed to find. It probably is a bit of my pride as well. I’ve studied you for so long and I would regret not spending time with you. You can teach us so much about Rome in your time. About the emperor. About the wars you were in. About the arena.” “You don’t want to hear about that,” he simply stated and turned his back towards you. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. Then we’ll just find out what your reason to be here is.” You also turned your back toward him, hearing the rustle of his pillow about half a minute after. It fell quiet in your office, only a few hours before the sun rose again. 

While you couldn’t remember any of your dream that night, Marcus must’ve encountered some divination during his rest. The voice of his late wife echoed in his mind, soft and warm like her lips whenever she kissed him. 

‘We will be reunited, my love. Find me where you laid me to rest.‘ 

He woke up a mere 5 hours later, his heart ardent with the knowledge of what he and his new found ally would have to do. Find Astra. 

Taglist: @jennaispunk @burntheedges @whocaresstillthelouvre @roughdaysandart

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[thelittlestoflives]

Unravelling the Mystery

a wee Sanji x Strawhat!reader from the perspective of our favourite archeologist! it’s so self indulgent lol but i just love these lil pirates so much!! my first time writing for one piece too!!

barely proofread or formatted forgive me pls!!!!

no warnings, just fluff, use of YN but gender neutral as much as possible

wc: 1k

Robin loved a mystery.

Whether it be a novel, an ancient archaeological site, or even the small cartoon strip in the newspaper that Nami got delivered every so often, she was all over it, the cogs in her brain whirred like a woman possessed to solve it.

Her newest obsession was the mystery of where her fellow crewmate was going when everyone else was asleep. Every night, she would hear the door creak and their gentle footsteps on the floorboards.

Sleepwalking?

No. It seemed too calculated for that. And if it were sleepwalking, how would that explain the way that they managed to always be in their bed in the morning?

Robin knew in her gut that there was something else happening here, and she was determined to find out what. Not by asking, of course. She would find out in her own special Robin way, by following YN as they left the room, and then staying awake all night to see when they returned. Simple enough really.

That night, she laid with her back to YN, breathing steadily to imitate someone who was dead asleep. Nami’s breaths had evened out too, and like clockwork Robin heard the familiar creak of the floorboards and the door carefully being pried open.

She waited a few seconds before getting up and creeping out of their room.

YN tiptoed ahead of her, bare feet not making a sound on the floor, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Robin felt in her element as she sneaked behind her crew mate, only a slight pang of guilt in her stomach. Her curiosity overrode that particular emotion.

YN turned left, towards the boys’ room.

With precision, they opened the door slowly, and then shut it behind them without a sound.

Ah. Of course. They're sneaking in to see someone. But who?

Robin’s brain raced with possibilities. Was it the stoic swordsman? Their silly captain? The flirty chef? She went back to her bed, puzzling over each outcome.

When Robin opened her eyes, sunlight streamed onto her face and she was hit with a feeling that she forgot something. She rolled over and saw Nami and YN sound asleep in their respective beds.

Dammit! She fell asleep before she could see YN coming back to bed. Tonight, she would do it. The day could be used to gather some more clues.

At breakfast, she watched YN for any signs of lingering gazes or prolonged touches with any of the other crew mates.

Unfortunately for her she was in the middle of an intense discussion with Usopp and Luffy, trying to explain why their Captain physically couldn’t eat so much that he would actually explode, and missed exactly the telltale signs she was looking for. Hands brushing, a slight blush of the cheeks, eyes meeting with a knowing glint.

The rest of the day proved ineffective for clue gathering, and now asking YN outright seemed almost like admitting to failure, by not being able to solve this mystery. And that simply wouldn’t do. Tonight she would put an end to this and find out to settle her questioning mind.

Again, she feigned sleep and waited for those creaking floorboards. Once she felt like enough time had passed for YN to settle into whoever’s bed it was they were creeping in to, Robin rose from her sheets and moved towards the male quarters.

She imitated the way YN had opened the door, carefully and noiselessly. She stuck her head through the gap and scanned the swinging hammocks for any signs of her friend tangled up with someone. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of, well, men, she willed her eyes to adjust to the dark whilst internally cursing. She couldn’t see anything! This was beginning to frustrate her. Why couldn’t she solve this seemingly simple mystery? She sighed softly, closing the door and stepping back into the hallway.

She made herself a coffee and sipped it while deep in thought. She would just have to stay awake and see if she could spot YN heading back to bed.

She lay in bed reading her book, so lost in the words that she didn’t realise that it was almost sunrise. The footsteps outside the door startled her and she blew out the candle she was using to read and pretended to sleep once more.

The door pushed open, and she stared intently through half shut eyes.

A familiar blonde head stepped into the room, with a sleepy YN cradled in his arms.

Aha! So it was the damn chef after all.

He laid them down impossibly gently, tucking the duvet around them. He knelt down beside their head, and they exchanged some mumbling words before he pressed a tender kiss to YN’s forehead. Their hands were still tangled as he stood to walk away, and he kissed their knuckles so softly that Robin felt a small jolt in her heart. Sanji left the room to prepare breakfast for the crew, and YN was already back asleep.

She suppressed a smile. The thought of her friend creeping into his arms every night, so soft, so tender, so loving, and him gently cradling their body to his every morning before he started work, tucking them in, was so overwhelmingly endearing she could cry. Now she knew why her friend was keeping it a secret, for now at least. However, she was surprised that the lovesick chef was able to keep something like this to himself, but you didn’t need to be as perceptive as Robin is to see how special and genuine this relationship was. They belonged entirely to each other and were secluded in their small bubble of secrecy. She wasn't going to be the one to pop it for them.

And after all, she got what she wanted.

She solved the mystery.

[mariacallous]

For half a millennium until the Holocaust, the cosmopolitan city of Thessaloniki, Greece, had a unique claim to fame: it was Europe’s only major city with a Jewish majority. 

But the golden age of Thessaloniki’s mostly Sephardic Ladino-speaking Jewish community came to a sudden end with the Nazi occupation of Greece in 1941 and turned cataclysmic with the deportation two years later to Auschwitz of nearly all the city’s Jews. By the end of World War II, some 65,000 Greek Jews — 87% of the total and 96% of those from Thessaloniki — had been killed, leaving barely 2,000 survivors in Thessaloniki (also known as Salonika).

Among them were the parents of Dr. Albert Bourla, a veterinarian who would go on to become the chairman and CEO of Pfizer, one of the world’s largest pharmaceutical companies.

In 2022, Bourla won the Genesis Prize — often described as the Jewish Nobel — for having led the development of Pfizer’s COVID-19 vaccine. Stan Polovets, co-founder and chairman of the Genesis Prize Foundation, said in announcing the reward, “Millions of people are alive and healthy because of what Dr. Bourla and his team at Pfizer have accomplished.”

Now, with global antisemitism at its worst levels since World War II, Bourla is about to realize another milestone: the long-awaited opening of a Holocaust Museum of Greece. 

Bourla donated the $1 million Genesis Prize money toward construction of the museum. The museum is also being funded by the Stavros Niarchos Foundation, and the governments of Greece and Germany. The management of the museum is currently trying to raise an additional $10 million.

“Those who know me know that in addition to being very proud of my Jewish heritage, I am equally proud of being Greek,” Bourla said in an emotional June 2022 speech in Jerusalem accepting the Genesis Prize. “My mother’s courage and optimism came from her experience of narrowly escaping death at the hands of the Nazis. In fact, both of my parents turned their experience surviving the Holocaust into something positive and life-affirming. This clearly shaped my worldview.”

The 9,000-square-foot museum occupying eight floors in an octagon-shaped structure will be located at the site of Thessaloniki’s Old Railway Station, where the first Nazi train carrying Jews to Auschwitz departed on March 15, 1943. 

But the museum, slated to open in 2026, won’t be just about the tragedy of the Holocaust. Exhibits and artifacts will tell the story of more than 2,300 years of Greek Jewish history in Thessaloniki and 38 other communities, beginning with the ancient Romaniote Jews who settled in Greece during the reign of Alexander the Great.

At an Oct. 29 groundbreaking ceremony in Thessaloniki, Polovets was joined by German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier, Greek President Katerina Sakellaropoulou, and local dignitaries and Holocaust survivors.

“I was honored to participate and was moved by the ceremony, during which President Steinmeier said he ‘felt shame’ and that the memory of what was done to the Jewish people on this site ‘cannot be erased.’ That is why this museum is so important,” Polovets said. “The memory of this once-vibrant Greek Jewish community and its near destruction by the Nazis —  especially during the current wave of rising global antisemitism — must never be erased.”

Only about 5,000 Jews remain in Greece: About 4,000 live in Athens, and the remainder live in Thessaloniki, Ioannina, Rhodes, Corfu and other communities. Meanwhile, Greece has not been immune to the wave of antisemitism sweeping Europe. Vandalism of Jewish cemeteries and Holocaust memorials is fairly commonplace.

A 2014 global survey of antisemitism by the Anti-Defamation League found that 69% of Greeks harbor antisemitic views — the highest percentage of any country in the world outside the Middle East. While those findings are sometimes disputed, Greece continues to struggle with antisemitism. 

However, physical violence against Greek Jews is extremely rare, and the current Greek government, as well as the one that preceded it, are considered among the most pro-Israel in Europe. Greece observes International Holocaust Remembrance Day, and in 2014 the parliament outlawed Holocaust denial.

A big push for the Holocaust museum came from Thessaloniki’s former mayor, 82-year-old Yiannis Boutaris, who died on Nov. 4, less than a week after the Holocaust museum’s groundbreaking ceremony. Boutaris announced that his city would build the museum at a 2017 event attended by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and other dignitaries.

“It will symbolize our shame,” Boutaris said at the time, “for what happened, for what we did, and mostly for what we could not or did not wish to do… during and after the war.”

In addition to Bourla, other famous Jews with roots in Thessaloniki include actor Hank Azaria, Israeli businessman and philanthropist Leon Recanati, his sister the philanthropist Jude Recanati, actress Lea Michele, former Nevada congresswoman Shelley Berkley and Belgian-born American fashion designer Diane von Fürstenberg. 

Polovets said Bourla’s donation aligns with the Genesis Prize Foundation’s values and mission of inspiring Jewish pride.

“With the rise of global antisemitism, education will be at the center of the museum’s activities, hosting permanent and temporary exhibitions and archives that will highlight the value of preserving the remembrance of the Holocaust, acceptance and respect for diversity, human rights, and freedom,” he said.

Polovets said he hopes the museum will inspire visitors to fight hatred from spreading today.

“Hatred in any form leads to denial, disrespect and destruction,” he said. “Democracy and respect for others are values that can never be taken for granted, and each of us has a responsibility to stand up to all forms of hatred.”

[genericpuff]

Hi, So one of my Characters was inspired by two goddess: Meilone and Despoina (Another Daughter of Demeter) and I've been trying to get more information on Despoina, I've used a Greek mythology site that I'm familiar with I even had some help from A.I search. Any tips?

Aahh, first tip, don't use AI ! At least in its current state, there's literally nothing it can factually offer you that normal Google searches can't. I know for some folks it's tempting because it kind of "summarizes" everything and makes the process of research a lot less intimidating, but the drawback to summarizing - especially through AI - is that it picks and chooses what information it thinks is helpful to you, not information that actually is accurate or true. And a lot of that information it presents to you is skimmed from other pre-existing sources that aren't necessarily accurate or true either - it skims from Reddit, Wikipedia, and other popular discussion sources to come up with an approximation of information, but approximations can and often are still made up of weak parts. Plus, at the end of the day, the AI is still pulling from things that exist, so even if it's telling you stuff that's factually true, it isn't anything you couldn't have found on your own.

The reason you're struggling to pull up anything on Despoina is because "Despoina" doesn't really exist, at least not as some concrete deity the same way Zeus and Demeter do. "Despoina" only has a handful of sources mentioning her, and a good chunk of them refer to her not as Demeter's daughter, but as an epithet.

Understand that sometimes not finding enough information isn't a fault of our own for "not looking hard enough" - sometimes it's because that information just currently does not exist, especially when it comes to the matter of ancient cultural studies, where what's available is strictly limited to what we've discovered and what's been made publicly accessible. In those situations, you really just gotta work with what you've got, and do your best in digging up information outside of the most popular sources, because you never know what you could be missing out on simply because Google decided not to show you.

I'm gonna go on one of my classic tangents here but it's a topic that's very interesting to me! So I'm just gonna dive into it, but I'll include a jump for those who don't want this clogging up their feed :>

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When you really get into the meat of studying Greek mythology - or really any cultural mythology - it's unfortunately not as cut and dry as reading up on lore or skimming a Wikipedia page. There are thousands of years of cultural interaction, trading of oral stories, re-interpretations through cultural adoption and/or colonization, political satirizing and/or re-tooling to suit specific sociopolitical views, and religious influence at play (among MANY other influences) which make up what we now understand as "Greek mythology" in its simplest terms.

Much of what we still study today is debatable as to what is truly "Greek", because of all the cultural mixing that was happening between the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Africans, etc. that resulted not only in its adopters creating new versions of older Greek stories, but "Greek myth" in and of itself being influenced by the societies that came before it. I've mentioned this before, but even Homer is a hot topic of debate, mostly discussing whether or not he was a real person, or if - like Despoina - the name "Homer" is just an epithet to refer to one or more poets whose works were preserved as culturally relevant interpretations of the stories and beliefs that were being passed around at that time. These are what make up the Homeric Hymns, but think about this - those hymns were in and of themselves retellings. Homer - whether one tangible person or many ambiguous voices as a collective - was simply putting stories that were already being told orally to paper, from their own perspective, which we managed to uncover and preserve over the course of thousands of years, during which we would continue to re-interpret it based on new translations and discoveries that would shift our context of knowledge.

With all that in mind, now think of all the stories that were lost, either because modern scholars haven't uncovered them, or because Homer just never thought to include them, or possibly didn't know of them himself. Think of all the stories that we assume to be true which could have had entirely different meanings when told as bedtime stories over the fire, or as epics of war to inspire soldiers, or as romantic poems sung to an audience.

I know everything I just said is a lot and is, in and of itself, wholly interpretive and subjective. But think about all that, and then understand why I'm so wary about using AI to do the work of the analysis for you. Not only does it remove so much necessary context from discussion that's already missing context in many areas, it undercuts the joy of discovery.

All that said, Despoina is, as far as we currently know, theorized to be one of two things:

1.) A daughter of Demeter who may or may not have been born during The Hymn to Demeter, who was worshipped as a deity within the Eleusinian Mysteries but - due to her nature as a deity of a secretive cult - does not have much evidence to support what she could have been specifically worshipped for, as her worshippers were sworn to secrecy. "Despoina" may not have even been her real name, just a name used to refer to her among cultists or anyone who wasn't a part of the congregation to ensure her true name was protected (similarly to Kore and Persephone, she could be a deity with "two names" that serve two different purposes and interpretations).

2.) An epithet, meaning "mistress", to refer to one or several different women, usually fertility goddesses, including Demeter, Persephone, and even Aphrodite and Hecate. This doesn't necessarily mean that "Despoina" as a goddess didn't exist, just that the word "Despoina" can also be used to refer to goddesses within the cult to keep their names a secret. And if Despoina did exist as her own deity... again, we don't know her true name, just the title that was used to refer to her, whoever "she" was.

The thing is, there is tangible material that supports either or both arguments. And even if more evidence came out to support one over the other, it doesn't invalidate either of them - this is just how it is with mythologies and religion, different cultures and tribes and groups would hold different beliefs, and the beliefs that reign supreme are often determined by the highest power. This is obviously why so many Roman interpretations of the Greek gods are now the "default" interpretations, because Rome was a very powerful empire that had the ability to absorb other mythologies, create their own adaptions of them, and then enforce them as the natural order. The popularity of Catholicism as an organized religion is owed to the Roman Empire, and even it still has its divided subgroups who have separated from the main doctrines of Catholicism due to having different beliefs.

Even think of the Bible, which many people hold up as the "gold standard" despite never having even read it. They subsequently don't understand that what we know as "the Bible" is a curated library of works that were preserved over hundreds of years, first documenting the trials and tribulations of the Jews and the building of Israel, and eventually leading to Jesus Christ and his fellow fandom mutuals (the apostles) coming in and deciding "nah that Old Testament blows, let's make a new one! No more circumcisions! Bread and wine and bacon for everyone!" (<<< I am obviously paraphrasing here for the sake of efficiency and a little bit of levity lmao) This is why, to this day, we get so many people still arguing over whether or not Jesus hated gay people, because some point to specific scriptures written by apostles like Paul and Matthew, while others point to scriptures from the Old Testament which pre-existed Jesus by centuries.

As much as we may refer to a "canon" within Greek mythology, those commonly known facts are still based on previous interpretations that in and of themselves were constantly debated and fought over. People even went to literal war over this shit, because it turns out, human beings haven't really changed all that much - we're loyal to our most favorite fandoms, and crucify anyone who disagrees with our established canons. And none of that is to patronize the cultural, spiritual, and political importance of these stories - more so just to point out why it's so hard to track down clear cut information for certain myths, because how legitimate those myths even were within their own context and time is unsubstantiated and debatable.

-----

TL ; DR: If you're making characters inspired by an ambiguous deity who doesn't have a lot of evidence to support them, just do what you can to find the evidence that exists, and maintain your own level of understanding and transparency that you can't possibly accurately depict a character who's either directly based off a Greek myth deity or simply inspired by one when what is and isn't accurate is still often up for debate by people who are actually trained and paid to debate these things. On the one hand, it means someone will likely be bound to argue with your interpretation and it may leave you searching for ways to improve upon any misrepresentations; on the other, know that this is just passing on the torch of a tradition that has been practiced by humans ever since the first cave drawing and we are all, by and large, doing what we've always been naturals at doing - expressing our views and perspectives of the world that make sense to ourselves, and then getting yelled at when it doesn't make sense to others LMAO

Be earnest and humble in your attempts to tell a story that feels true to you, and remember that the process of discovery - the research - is half the journey, and half the fun :> Even if you get things wrong, be willing to take ownership of it and view it as an opportunity to learn even more. Therein lies the true joy of creating - the endless potential for discovery.

[baphometsss]

thinking about the different words for love in ancient greece and how the ancient elves seem to mirror that without having separate words in the language (that we know of). we know that the word 'lath' is love, that they named the centre of their empire after love. (according to legend, it was the romantic love of elgar'nan and mythal but honestly who the hell knows what their relationship was actually like.) but the regret where solas couldn't get mythal to leave the evanuris before she was killed is most revealing. this is the one the inquisitor gives to rook i.e. the first one if you haven't already found any, the one that they find at the ritual site after varric fails to convince solas to stop, as solas failed to win over mythal. it's the one where you can have the conversation where they debate what mythal meant by calling him 'love' and have that really cringey conversation

emmrich explains that they see the memories in their mother tongues, which means it translates differently to different people. (imo this is how you know they left it open to interpretation on purpose.) taash, as a qunari, immediately associates love with eros, because qunari aren't especially forthcoming with those kinds of emotions outside of romance. mythal's fragment even points this out if you're a qunari rook. she says (paraphrasing), your people don't bond like ours do, how could you know what it's like to love someone even as they stand against you?

but i personally think the love that mythal and solas shared was not eros but philia -- deep platonic love and devotion. it's the one type of love the ancient greeks valued above all others, above even family and romance. maybe there's also a bit of storge (parental/familial love, as mythal is referred to as his family in deleted dialogue w/lucanis and bellara, who have narrative parallels with mythal and solas), and a bit of agape (unconditional, self-sacrificing love) at least on solas's side.

so as for lavellan/solas... well, obviously, there's eros--sexual and romantic love. but i think, personally, that they share most of those different types of love rather than just that one. falling in love doesn't just bring out the best or the worst in you, but it brings out everything in you. solas has never been in love, according to the description of his romance, and that's why it catches him off-guard. it was a wildcard he couldn't predict. he himself says that it changed everything. everything we see in the romance suggests that the love they share is a mixture of all those different kinds of love:

eros--the romantic component, the sexual and passionate state of being in love with someone. their interactions are deeply romantic and passionate. they call each other 'vhenan'; this is an exclusively romantic term.

philia--deep friendship and devotion. they build a strong rapport on being seen as the people they are (solas, manifested wisdom/lavellan, dalish elf), not their mantles of fen'harel/dread wolf or herald of andraste/inquisitor. they are, before anything, friends.

ludus--noncommittal love/flirtation, casual sex--well, clearly it doesn't end up as being casual or noncommittal, but certainly they went through this as a stage. 'i have yet to see it [your will] dominated... i imagine such a sight would be... fascinating'

agape--unconditional, selfless love--lavellan clearly loves solas unconditionally. despite everything he's done and continues to do, they remain in love with him regardless of how badly those actions affect them and the wider world. it's the thing that gets them the most flack from fandom because it's seen as foolish. they even criticise themselves for it. and solas sacrifices his own desires, not just because he's so determined to follow through with his plan, but because he himself also can't bear to have lavellan see what he becomes. he 'can't do it to them'. he doesn't want them to suffer more than they already have at his hands. allowing them to follow him on the din'anshiral would've been far more selfish.

pragma--enduring love that grows stronger over time. well, lavellan is nothing if not enduring; their love will endure. that love has lasted a decade despite everything. solas, too, has not fallen out of love. even if you choose not to continue the romance in trespasser, he still wants to know if they feel the same about him after all that's passed. he haunts their dreams as a wolf, because he can't keep away entirely. he writes love letters and keeps mementos. their love has only become stronger, and now they live forever in the fade where it will grow and shape their world into something less 'terrible'.

philautia--self-love. they both do everything they can to make the other see their best qualities. it's hard to put this in the context of the relationship because it is self-love specifically, but i think lavellan's hope that solas will see himself as they see him, and that solas continually points out how they've changed him when they are romanced or high approval, is not a bad interpretation.

mania--i can definitely see how you could make their love obsessive. it is all consuming; neither can let go of it after a decade. this is the more unhealthy side of their relationship.

storge--familial love. i don't think they have this love towards each other per se, but i think they had this with the inquisition. in a way, the inner circle was the closest solas got to a real family that wasn't as fucked up as the evanuris. lavellan, especially if their clan was killed, also would've needed them like this. they were both a part of the larger picture here, and this is a part of their relationship too. it was the backdrop against which they fell in love; it enabled their love.

[thyrell]

it rules still having hella mutuals from my fandom days on this site cause sometimes ill see a post float across my dash that says stuff like "friendly reminder that FICTIONAL CHARACTERS are NOT REAL..." nd i just got to keep on scrolling like yep. seems like the ancient wars i used to know are still being fought

[felassan]

Thoughts on DA: Vows & Vengeance -

[info compilation post link] [more info on the podcast]

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this post is rather unstructured : )

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I know what BW said about how there won't be official transcripts, but I hope that they decide to post official transcripts of each episode if it's possible, as it's rly important for accessibility & inclusivity.

I like the title - the alliteration is fun, and the concepts of vengeance and revenge are a DA thematic staple atp. it's neat that it's free and the spacing of one episode per week until mid/late October will help pass the time until launch (the last podcast episode releases 2 weeks before DA:TV Release Day). it's also cool to see DA expand into new forms of media, and I'm excited that we will hear lots more lines from each of the 7 Veilguard companions. 👁️

here is one of the podcast writers, Jeremy Novick, on Twitter.

I’m really looking forwards to Taash and Davrin’s episodes of the podcast in particular ◕‿◕ it feels like we don't know much about them or their backstories relative to the other DA:TV companions at this point in time.

Nadia Carcosa, Drayden and Elio are described as being "podcast-exclusive" characters, I guess this means they will not appear in the game itself (which helps the podcast storyline stay self-contained and the podcast to remain as optional listening). but it would be cool if in the game there is some references to them here and there, like in dialogue and/or codex entries/notes etc. 😊

in the background image of the teaser trailer and what looks like the thumbnail for the podcast[?] on podcasting sites, the two faction symbols shown are the Mourn Watch and the Shadow Dragons. is this a coincidence/just since their symbols look cool, or are these two factions the factions with the biggest roles in the podcast storyline relative to the others? the penultimate episodes are the ones that focus on Emmrich and Neve 🤔

"revenge, redemption, and love": these themes mixed together often produce regret. and there was a quote somewhere in DA:TV marketing materials that said “For DA:TV [the game itself], from the start one of the biggest themes has been regret; how regret shaped peoples’ lives, how people deal with their regrets, how people maybe move past their regrets.”

Mae Whitman previous credits include: Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Scott Pilgrim vs. the World Brigette Lundy-Paine previous credits include: Bill & Ted Face the Music, Atypical, I Saw the TV Glow Armen Taylor previous credits include: Diablo IV, Octopath Traveler II, Vinland Saga

I wonder when the podcast is set? maybe in the weeks to months before Varric, Harding, Neve and Rook go to Solas' ritual site in the game's prologue? I also wonder what lineages Nadia, Drayden and Elio are? If Drayden has a mysterious connection to the Fade, they're most likely to be human or elven, right?

cat burglar, thief, scoring jobs like the one described in the podcast's plotblurbs - these kind of plot beats remind me of what we learned about an earlier concept of DA:TV when the game was more about stuff like heists and spies.

Nadia being a thief unknowingly employed by the Dread Wolf to track down a powerful ancient artifact before finding herself tangled up in everything: this reminds me sm of one of the 'here's what the DA4 PC's backstory could be and how they could end up caught up in the narrative of the game'-speculation ideas I used to wonder about hhh.

a retired cat burglar.. maybe Nadia has ties to the Lords of Fortune? some of them seem to be more thiefy. although, being wanted by Tevinter authorities for crimes of theft, high treason and murder maybe points towards Shadow Dragons instead.

two lovers going on a job to get an artifact reminds me of Irian Cestes and Vadis from TN. "burglar" also gives me Hobbit/LOTR vibes :D I imagine that over the many years since DA:I, the Dread Wolf has employed many such people [unknowingly to them] on jobs like this.

Elio being "seemingly" banished to the Fade is interesting wording.. so is "banished" actually. (Elio's Fade banishment also makes me think of foreshadowing Solas' subsequent entry to Fade Jail in DA:TV.) ((shoutout to left-in-the-Fade-Hawkes' LIs who I can also imagine desperately searching for answers on a rescue mission across all of Thedas after learning that Hawke was left in the Fade in DA:I...))

Carcosa

I'm reaaally curious about what Drayden's mysterious connection to the Fade is all about and entails.

"a few [answers] they wish they hadn’t" 👁️...

the question is, what the powerful ancient artifact is, and why does Solas want it? if he wants it it's probably ancient elven, right?

On the trailer itself

"This chamber, it feels different from the cave. I can sense something. The Veil is thin here." - I'd guess this speaker is Drayden. it isn't Nadia, as we hear her later on. the speaker can sense the thin/thickness of the Veil and Drayden is said to have a mysterious connection to the Fade. at this point they're in some kind of, well, chamber, as the speaker's voice echoes and you can hear water dripping down the damp walls.

The announcer's voice is so deep hh!

To be wanted by Tevinter authorities for crimes including high treason, maybe Nadia is from Tevinter? treason is "the crime of betraying one's country, especially by attempting to kill or overthrow the sovereign or government." so to commit treason in Tevinter context, you're probably from Tevinter.

"Who the hell is Nadia Carcosa?" - this sounds like Varric. :>

"So, what's the mark?" - I'd guess this speaker is Nadia. they sound scrappy/seasoned (Nadia is nearly retired), and the speaker is probably asking for more details on the job they've just acquired to do. does she sound like she could be a dwarf to anyone else or is this just me? :D maybe that's just my daydreams hhh

"The Eye of Kethisca" quote: presumably the middle man who Solas hired to hire someone, thereby keeping his own identity secret

The Eye of Kethisca itself: this must be the "powerful ancient artifact" from the text blurbs. there are no hits for "Kethisca" on the DA Wiki, so this is a new name/thing. it must be creepy-deepy, because when it's mentioned in the trailer you can hear creepy voices whispering ominously. :D "Kethisca" doesn't sound elven, but you could easily have an artifact that's e.g. ancient elven but acquired another name or been called something else by others in the centuries since.

"The Eye was made from a rare gem mined here in the caves beneath us. It was crafted centuries ago by a powerful Dreamer." - Solas speaking. I wonder how oblique/lies of omission/technically true (you know what I mean? that thing he does) Solas is being here.. like maybe the Dreamer was an ancient elvhen Dreamer not a human Tevinter one, like maybe the centuries ago were centuries and centuries and centuries ago dating back to Elvhenan rather than later on temporally at say, a more recent time in history like the height of the Imperium. "Eye" makes me think of spherical things, "gem" makes me think of how lyrium (Titans' blood) is a mineral. caves makes me think of dwarfy things and the Deep Roads. as for "mined":

"The runes say the Evanuris fought the Titans. They mined their bodies for lyrium and... something else. It's not clear."

what if the Eye is the heart of a Titan, a foci? Solas' Orb was spherical and the hearts of Titans look spherical here in the Death of a Titan mural. the way he frames it makes it sound like the mark is a rare jewel mined from caves by a Tevinter human dreamer long ago before being crafted into something, but I wonder if it was, more technically, the heart of a Titan mined from the body of a Titan even longer ago by, say, a member of the Evanuris, before being crafted into a foci. Solas needed his own foci in DA:I to carry out his plans, and then it was broken. there was more than one foci in ancient Elvhenan; after DA:I and Trespasser, I could see a world/storyline in which, during the long years between then and DA:TV, Solas at some point learns that another one of the foci artifacts survived into the modern day, and decided to try and get his hands on it so that he can carry out his plan using another foci instead. and since the foci can do Fadey/Veily stuff, that could be how Elio got yeeted in there. reminds me a bit of the scene when the Inquisitor yeets Cory at the end of DA:I. (here I'm just speculating wildly for fun hhh. Solas' Orb doesn't really look like a gem etc. and the Lyrium Knife tears the Veil, so maybe this storyline was set before he got that or sth)

also I wonder where these caves are? beneath Minrathous? Solas has a hideout beneath Minrathous, as we know, and the deeper you go the more elfy things get.

Magister Andante: I think this is our first time hearing about this character. their name reminds me of Andraste.

"Magister Andante? It's about Nadia. She's about to do something quite reckless." - this sounds to me like Neve speaking. it kind of sounds like she's meeting the magister clandestinely, at night. she seems to know Nadia.

"Listen to me, you've been tricked. This isn't a simple grab-and-go for the money. There are bigger forces at play. We have to put this back and leave." - I'd guess this speaker is Elio. it sounds like at this point he and Nadia have found the Eye and taken it, but he's trying to get her to see reason/warn her. it's a tense moment with the sound of battle all around them.

"I'm sorry, but I won't let you pay for my mistakes." - Nadia refusing to listen to Elio. the sounds of battle get louder and it sounds like there's an explosion or something? plus the dragon roar. maybe Mr dragon is breathing fire everywhere. :D I wonder as well if it's Elio grunting in pain at this point. I'd guess this is the moment where Elio is seemingly yeeted into the Fade perhaps?

"Nadia, I presume. I am Solas, and I am, I believe, the one that you seek." - Solas again obviously, only this time sounding way more godly and Fen'Harelly in persona (booming) than he did when he was talking more demurely/plainly about what the Eye is.

"The name I seek is the Dread Wolf" - Nadia again obviously :) so something in the job went wrong, she figures out who hired them, and goes to find the Dread Wolf presumably because she either blames him for Elio being stuck in the Fade and/or she thinks he might be able to get him out or tell her how.

"The Eye will destroy you" - and this sounds like Neve again maybe?

[mossadspypigeon]

when people talk about countries outside of israel making themselves safer for jews so “israel wouldnt be needed,” i have some questions, comments, and concerns.

why is it that landback is for everyone but us? you know there is a difference between being safe outside of your land and self determining ON your ancestral land?

self determining isn’t just about government and leadership, it’s about seeing yourselves represented in media at a greater number (or tbh AT ALL in our case), having your holidays be actual national holidays. having your calendar be the national calendar. having the work week be YOUR CULTURE’S work week.

it’s about being able to see your ancestral land, feel the soil. grow the food your ancestors grew. be around the agriculture. see the ancient sites. pray at the religious sites that have been there since the start of your peoplehood and culture and religion.

why is that okay for everyone but jews?

israel is not just needed for safety purposes. it is needed bc it’s the HOMELAND FOR JEWS EVERYWHERE. it is where we come from and we should be able to live there and have a state there just like so many other groups are allowed to have their own countries. (palestinians included if they had accepted any of the several deals they were given.)

i know it’s popular to hate states now, but tbh you cannot say you hate states and argue for landback for any group. you also shouldnt have the privilege to say you hate states and want to force YOUR ignorant opinion on cultures and peoples who are oppressed and unable to self determine the way you and your ancestors did.

the kurds right now? are fighting for a state. so many groups are. some form of The State has existed since the dawn of civilization and society. and that’s okay.

but really, making the existence of israel just about safety removes its cultural, religious, and ethnic importance to the jewish people. it’s sacred to us and it is where we were made and formed and existed in some way for over 4,000 years.

[son1c]

in my movie rewrite, there's a big emphasis on environmentalism. one of GUN's primary objectives is to find an alternative source of energy, because fossil fuels really aren't working out for the planet, and they've deemed solar/wind/etc as failures because they're slow to catch on. what they covet is a limitless energy source that they can milk like a battery for humanity.

10 years ago, they got close to something promising when they discovered a sunken island near the bermuda triangle. but their progress was thwarted thanks to one of their scientists going rogue. she took all of their research, wiped their computers, and ran. GUN has a new guy working on the case now (eggman) but he's eggman so his ego and personal projects are getting in the way of any real progress. that is, until he catches something unexpected with one of his drone's cameras: an artifact that had been recovered from the bermuda triangle research site a decade ago, hanging from some kid's neck. it's annie's key! (sonic is in the picture too, but he's just some blurry blue smudge.)

the truth of the matter is this: the sunken island is angel island and the key will free Chaos. you know, the big water monster guy. that rogue scientist, aka annie's mom, figured this out 10 years ago and stole the key before GUN could use it. i'm thinking also that the key isn't really a key, but some ancient seal thing that just so happens to look like a key. in reality, it's Chaos' mind or heart or something. and the closer sonic and annie get to the island, the more it stirs, and annie starts having some really weird dreams...

i was also thinking that the reason why long claw did all that shit and isolated sonic and etc is because he's The One Living Person who can use the chaos emerald's power and go super. basically he's an extremely dangerous weapon. in my rewritten lore for the movies, only one person has this power at a time and it has been historically used to obliterate entire planets so long claw's species are tasked with finding each generation's chaos controller (lame name but i can't think of something better rn) before anyone else can swoop them up and groom them into being a weapon of war. btw it's completely random who has this power. kind of like the avatar i guess. cuz i want to keep sonic's "just some guy" thing intact, it's important to me.

this would also make shadow showing up way down the line extremely disconcerting because he's not supposed to exist. but i guess no one accounted for artificially made hedgehogs. ha