I Did The Cover For @jdlogbook ! POs Opened Today So Please Check It Out…! ^^

Ok so a vast majority of us are familiar with the Gigantomachia arc in ORV but I took a classical myth class and obviously did my final project on ORV (bc it was to take a modern retelling of a greek myth and relate it to the original/classical myth version). But there are so many layers to Heracle’s involvement in Gigantomachia omg.

So in ORV, both the original myth of Gigantomachia and elements of Heracles’s myths are referenced during the Gigantomachia arc. The version of Gigantomachia in ORV most closely resembles Apollodorus's account from the 2nd century BCE. (This is also the Gigantomachia myth that my professor had my class examine)

For those unfamiliar with Apollodorus’s telling, Gaia, angered by Olympus’s victory over the Titans, enlists the help of Ouranos to birth the giants and exact revenge on the Olympians. The giants, invulnerable to the gods alone, wage war on Olympus. Gaia also tries to make the giants invulnerable to humans as well with a special herb but Zeus manages to get it before she can. Recognizing their limitations, the Olympians call upon Heracles, who deals the killing blow to the giants, securing Olympus's victory. (very similar to the version in the Percy Jackson Gods and Heroes book for those who know)

For Heracles, the way he’s portrayed in ORV deviates significantly from the original myth. In classic Greek mythology, Heracles is a demigod and son of Zeus. He commits some Greek crimes and has to do 10 labors for his evil asshole of a cousin that's also a king.  However, in ORV, Heracles is not a real hero but a construct—a composite of stories curated by Olympus to create the ultimate soldier. Heracles is not a constellation or incarnation, but rather a tool made to be used in Gigantomachia. The decision to portray Heracles as a construct stems from the Greek mythological timeline. According to Greek myth, Heracles was born after Gigantomachia and therefore could not have realistically existed during the events of Gigantomachia; however, Heracles does appear in Gigantomachia. (In class we were told to disregard this discrepancy and chalk it up to it being myth and fiction.) However, ORV addresses myth like it is reality. Yoo Sangah asks about this inconsistency, which allows reader’s to clue into what Kim Dokja already knows (from having read WOS NOT because he has a background in greek myth like Yoo Sangah does)

Furthermore, in my class, we discussed how in classical myths, Zeus created Heracles to enforce xenia on Earth. Xenia is the ancient Greek concept of being good to strangers. It’s basically the “love thy neighbor” of Ancient Greece, only more extreme. (Can’t turn away strangers because what if it’s Zeus or a different god, etc.) In ORV, the creation of Heracles differs with “Zeus, the god of lightning, had sowed his seed in preparation for Gigantomachia. As always, the 'seed' here was a metaphor. Zeus feared the giants and collected miscellaneous hero stories from across the world.” (ORV Chapter 330: Ep. 62 - God's Enemy, III). Zeus takes these hero stories and fragments and turns them into Heracles. These fragments include the 12 tasks and come together to create the story that is Heracles. But even though the way Heracles has been created has changed, he is still made for the same purpose. And that is to be a weapon and tool for Zeus to use to enforce his ideals.

With how ORV reimagines Gigantomachia as a recurring scenario staged by Olympus to prevent the giants from rising again. Each repetition of the scenario ensures Olympus's victory, reinforcing their dominance and the story. Due to this fact, Olympus creates Heracles as a weapon and retells the story of their success as a way to manipulate the system. The gods perpetuate the Gigantomachia narrative not only as a tool for victory but as a fabricated story made from fragmented myths. By repeatedly telling this false version of Gigantomachia, Olympus solidifies its victory anecdote within the scenario, ensuring their triumph against the giants every time. According to Kim Dokja, "Once it becomes a story, it can be said to originally exist. Isn't it amazing?" (ORV Chapter 330: Ep. 62 - God's Enemy, III). In other words, ORV explains how a “false” tale can become a real story. This accounts for how traditional Greek mythology describes Olympus’s victory through the involvement of Hercules despite the clear timeline discrepancies, as seen in Apollodorus’s The Library of Greek Mythology, Book I, The revolt of the Giants, “The others [giants] were destroyed by Zeus, who struck them with thunderbolts; and all of them, in their death throes, were shot with arrows by Heracles.” 

In addition, in older tellings of the world’s creation, Gigantomachia does not exist or is not written. For example, in The Theogony by Hesiod, Gigantomachia doesn’t exist. The Theogony was written before The Library of Greek Mythology, meaning that with how Heracles is a false story in ORV and was likely created for Gigantomachia then it makes sense for Gigantomachia to have been a story that became popular or well known later due to the effect of repeating Gigantomachia so that Olympus wins. 

I don’t know, this is a really long ramble but I think it’s amazing how Shingshong can take classical greek myth and it’s inconsistencies to create a new and compelling story about Olympus. It’s the perfect blend of familiar well known myths with a well done twist to it from how the Star Stream functions. It’s also just super impressive to me how well thought out the whole Giganotmachia arc is since I would have never realized how much thought went into ORV’s version of Heracles if I hadn’t taken this college class.

Yay, some hsr heads :3

🎆 A/n: this theme cost me my life and soul

🎆 Cw: soft smut, afab!reader, dom!kafka, (slight) somnophilia, cunnilingus, pwnp, scissoring, aftercare mentioned

🎆 dividers

the soft caresses of thin, manicured nails across your abdomen are what rouse you from your slumber. you shiver at the feeling, instinctively curling away from the ticklish sensation as foreign yet familiar hands continue to sensually stroke your body, trailing across your fluttering abdomen and giving your tummy an appreciative squeeze before slipping nimbly down between your thighs. you stir, forcing yourself to raise your head and watch the slim figure of your lover, who had positioned herself over you with elegant poise only she could possess in the dead of night.

"Kafka..?" you mumble, voice raspy and muffled from sleep.

"shhhh," Kafka coo's, her voice cool and seductive as she raises herself up to your level. the only illumination provided is the moonlight seeping in through the window, highlighting her hourglass curves as she hovers over you. her strong arms frame your head, and your eyes trail upwards to her face, where you could just make out her lustful gaze through lidded eyes. then, your eyes travel downwards, gazing over the swell of her breasts, down past the plush of her stomach to her thighs and soaked sex, all barely visible in the dim lighting. Kafka lets out a soft, airy chuckle before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. while doing so, she pushes you back down to the mattress, gentle but firm in her dominance.

"go back to sleep," she whispers, voice thick and warm, like a river engulfing you, swallowing you from all sides in a comforting, soulful way. "i'm sure you don't mind if i pleasure you, hm?"

the questioning undertone is left obvious, arousal already causing you to flush beneath her scrutinizing gaze. despite being the one to usually take the initiative, Kafka always left the choice of sex up to you, and you know that should you even have a moments hesitation, she'd stop absuptly. her unique relationship with emotions, or rather lack thereof, made her much less privy to noting whether or not you were aroused in the moment. not to say she wasn't deathly observant, however, Kafka was always cautious, especially when it came to you.

despite you feeling so utterly sleepy, you desperately want her to mimic the feeling of her hands on you, just like she had moments before, and you roll your hips up ever so slightly to meet hers in a show of arousal.

"mhm.. continue.. please," you mumble, and she hums in response before trailing back down your body.

"relax, darling, go back to sleep. i'll take care of you," she purrs, and you oblige, letting your heavy, heavy eyelids fall shut as she peels your panties away. the cold air meeting your exposed sex makes you shiver, and Kafka relishes in the sight. nimble fingers spread your folds, and she lets out a pleased chuckle at the sight of you already soaked in arousal.

"needy thing," she whispers, leaning down to press a kiss over your pulsing clit. "just can't do a thing without me~"

she's swift in spreading your legs and throwing them over her shoulders, so much so that you barely recognize the change in position until her tongue meets your cunt. her ministrations are experienced and lustful as she eats you out with mind melting skill, lips sucking on your pretty pussy like candy. she knows everything that makes you tick, from her technique to her pace, she ravishes you with the fervor of a starved man, licking and sucking on your cunt as though its her last meal.

meanwhile, you drift in and out of consciousness, head fuzzy and melting with a mixture of sleepiness and pleasure. you feel as though your being devoured whole, the messy click of your cunt against her chin and the slick movements of her tongue circling your pearl are enough to push you over the edge, and your thighs clamp tightly around her head as she guides you through your orgasm. maincured nails dig into the plush of your thighs as your cunt clenches around nothing, your hips rolling against her face as she continues sucking on your clit until your seeing stars. your cheast heaves and eyelids flutter as you slowly come down from your high, and Kafka presses an appreciative kiss to your pulsing clit.

"m' sure that feels much better, hm?" she purrs, rubbing soft circles on your hips as you force your eyes open. she giggles softly before beginning to clean up, but you lurch upwards, sitting up to stop her.

"what 'bout you?" you mumble, and she grins wolfishly. "oh?" she crawls upwards, laying her bare body atop yours. "want to help me reach my release too, baby?"

you nod, and she chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"you're so..." she trails off, shaking her head as you pout at her. Kafka leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, before wrapping her arms around your waist.

"can you sit up for me, darling?"

"mhm," you hum, situating yourself so that your propped up among the pillows with your legs wrapped over hers, both of your cunts just barely touching. your breath hitches when you rock your hips and feel the slightest friction against your overstimulated clit, and steady hands find purchase on your waist.

"shhh, slow down. let me take care of you~" Kafka teases, running her hands up your ticklish sides and enjoying the way you squirm beneath her touch. you had fallen asleep in nothing but your underwear and were quite glad for it now, as it had taken just the removal of your panties for you to now be completely bare before her.

wrapping an arm around your waist, Kafka pushes your hips together, and you watch, mesmerized, as your clits kiss while her pretty cunt grinds against yours. your head lolls, and you nuzzle into the crook of her neck with a needy whine as the friction causes your thighs to tremble. Kafka lets out a few soft moans, perfect and pornographic in a way only she coulf ever achieve. a nimble finger traces down your quivering front to toy with your pearl, circling your clit and trailing over your coarse pubic hair with thinly veiled attraction.

"hnn.. aren't you a pretty little thing?" Kafka moans in your ear, watching with sick fascination as your arousal-slick pussies grind together.

"Kaf- m'close !" you whine, biting down onto the junction of her neck and collarbone to save yourself the embarrassment of whimpering as she increases the pace on your clit.

"o-oh? mhnn.. go ahead, take what you need," Kafka whispers, throwing her head back and letting out a few beautiful moans the likes of which songbirds could never compare to. she calls out your name with the complete and utter devotion of someone truly enamored, and with that, you both reach your climax simultaneously.

the sheets are absolutely dripping when you come to, eyelids fluttering and cunt twitching. the only thing youre aware of is the feeling of Kafka holding you close, and you nuzzle into the warmth of her skin.

"you still with me?" she asks, voice soft and warm in the way it is only for your ears to hear.

"mhm, i am now," you mumble, and she chuckles, uncharacteristically sweet and girlish. she lays you back down on the bed, and you drift in and out of consciousness in a sleepy bliss as she quickly changes the sheets and wipe down the mess between your legs. she's slow, almost worshipful as she gently and deliberately caresses your thighs and stomach, wiping away the sticky cum staining your skin with devotion. once your satisfactorily clean, she lays you back down onto the clean bed, and slips in beside you.

immediately, you slot yourself against her, nuzzling into her chest as she wraps her arms around you. warm bodies flush against eachother and practically intertwined, you wouldn't have it any other way.

i love her so much more than any man ever could. kafka my beloved !!!

Yoo!!! Han!!! Kim!!!

she's all alone...

I remembered that I can draw

I'll drown in you

that chin hold scene tho

its so interesting to think about how when we are first introduced to yoo sangah she contrasts kim dokja in every way - she's a hard worker, an ideal woman, a perfect protagonist, all opposites of how kim dokja percieves himself as a passive person, a failure of a man, a useless reader. but then kim dokja leaves the company for three years and she steps into his role as both leader and sacrificial lamb. theres an insecurity haunting her from the early days of the apocalypse that makes her want to be useful, and if it comes at the cost of her wellbeing or life it's a trade she's alarmingly happy to make - not a mindset we at all associate with the woman we first meet on the train, but one we find familiar from our time spent in kim dokja's head. once again we learn that that line kim dokja drew between them was false, and yoo sangah was always more like him than he could have ever thought.

Navia my beloved ❤️