#an unspoken rule

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

HIIIII!!!!!!!! I just wanted to pop in and say that I am not in the Triple Frontier fandom anymore, but I will come back every now and again and read "An Unspoken Rule" because I love it and your writing so much ♥

thank you!!

[demigods-posts]

the biggest thing thalia and percy have in common is not their being a child of the big three gods. but their unmatched adoration for annabeth chase. because listen. these two will fight each other any chance they get. but the second you speak ill on their girl. it's on sight.

[critterbitter]

Thinking about pokemon teams helping coparent… ahh.

Masterpost for more of my shenanigans!

[cemeterything]

as much as it's fun to joke about not wanting new people to join tumblr from twitter after everyone else thought this site was dead or too cringe to make an account on for years, if you're actually an asshole to people who are just trying to use social media to have fun and/or share their content like the rest of us and are adapting to a new platform they're not familiar with then i don't want anything to do with you personally, because it's obvious you're just using this situation as an excuse to be mean spirited dickhead and i don't tolerate that kind of behavior

[spicyboelives]

This sketch page was a blast to do, probably the last order like this i'll do in a while though, I prefer to do flat colors or fully rendered- Still HUGE WIN that I got to draw Jake so much! And @khonsulockley 's lovely OC let me practice drawing elegant ladies :D!

More below the cut!

[pinkypastal]

Something I love about childe's time in prison is that everyone talks about him like he was some ancient urban legend that was here years ago but no.

The guy was here last week, he just made that strong an impression

[sitzfleischh]

Sorry for the shitty screenshot but I'm obsessed with the look that Fanny and the Captain give each other in 5x06 after they've both bungled social interactions with Allison.

They're both just like 😬😥😅 solidarity...

[crocodilenjoyer]

here’s the thing. about zolu. puts myhand on your shoulder Here’s the thing. luffy? aromantic. zero interest in romance. zoro? gay. very low interest in romance. has two braincells and they’re both devoted to thinking about swords. they are not dating. it is not romantic. it’s not sexual either because luffy, much like his views on romance, could not give less of a shit about sex. maybe if they both feel up to it at the same time, but that’s rare and when it does happen it’s more of a physicality and, to a lesser extent, affection thing than anything else. occasionally it’s a “hey wouldn’t it be weird/funny/fucked up if we [insert some david cronenberg-type shit]” thing and the other one goes “haha yeah do you wanna try.” but i digress.

however. HOWEVER. they Have A Thing. what that Thing entails is a mystery. luffy is both incredibly straightforward and frustratingly cryptic whenever he’s asked about it and zoro just kinda shrugs. they’re just luffyandzoro and zoroandluffy. the king and his lionheart. drift compatible. partners. captain and first mate. the sailor and the north star. sun and moon. they simply Are. what does that entail? well brother. they hang out

[silverskye13]

I am turning EB around in my head like a microwave and I have a couple questions:

What is EB and EX's relationship like? I know they view each other as family and EX gets EB's booth, but will we see how they interact more?

Did anyone wind up telling EB that hels!zedaph is dead? If not, does he have suspicions that he is?

and a more general Hels question (that is totally not related no siree) - what is the upkeep for the remembrance walls like?

EB and EX are on friendly terms! They previously saw each other,,, not as rivals in the traditional sense. They didn't openly attack or oppose each other. But EB viewed EX as a challenge: How do I stay distinct from my brother's shadow? Anyone looking for it would find it obvious. EB got Bigger and Louder whenever EX was around, and he used to be much bigger and much louder than he currently is. It's less that he was mean, and more that he was prideful. Becoming friends with Helsknight changed him for the better in that regard. Since he's mellowed out, he and his brother have become closer. They enjoy visiting with each other during Colosseum matches [EB will often stand with EX in the box and talk both before the events, and during intermission] and EX invites EB to a lot of parties, where they shit talk the guests together. We'll see them together once during RnS, but EB is a secondary character, and outside of the one appearance, I don't intend to have EX very involved in the story. He's kind of the unspoken god of the world: he gets a lot of mentions because he's very important to hels, but he's not very important to the plot lol.

Someone did wind up telling EB about hels!zedaph, though yes, he did suspect before he was told. EB hadn't gone looking for HZ for a reason. He didn't want to be the one to find out he was gone. If I can't see it, maybe its not really there.

And the Remembrance Wall Ramble got long so its under the cut!

[Hello future me cutting in here because I just realized you were probably talking about what individuals like EB would do to upkeep a name of a loved one. Mostly it involves regular visits. Keeping the stone clean, replacing it if it gets cracked, making sure it doesn't wear down. Nether bricks to me are a bit brittle, and the ones on the bottoms of the walls will crumble and break down over time. Most of the time, the Order of Remembrance is pretty good at getting them replaced, though they encourage individuals to do it themselves, to decorate the stones, paint or carve them, and overall keep the care personal. People will also sometimes leave gifts of food, flowers, and favored items at walls where loved ones names are kept. Walls are very colorful spots in hels, full of a lot of care.]

The Remembrance walls are, basically, graveyards. Alongside friends and family, who will make sure loved ones names are put down and remembered, the Order of Remembrance manages all Remembrance Walls in the city. We'll get into it a little in the upcoming chapters, but the Order of Remembrance church, and its knights, have a very active presence in hels. They are the cloaks seen most often roaming the streets, in twos and threes. They have regular routes they walk, with walls they are assigned to tend. They make sure the stones are stacked straight and don't fall, replace broken ones, and help people carve names. Many knights have prayer chants where they intentionally try to memorize every name on the wall. Their focus is on the idea that no helsmet is truly gone as long as some memory remains of them. They welcome helsmets approaching them with fond memories of loved ones, and will take testimony from people who know their time is coming. Their church is a glorified library and house of memorization. Part of their worship in remembrance of people is also in the remembrance of history, and they have at least one copy of every book, memoir, and journal in hels they can get their hands on. They have one private collection in the church, and one public library in hels, which they regularly update with copies of originals from the church library.

The only place outside the Order of Remembrance's domain is the shady side of town where Cleo's gangs keep the peace. For control reasons, Cleo doesn't like any opposing force on her claimed land, which includes Order of Remembrance knights. She does still have Remembrance Walls on her side of town, but they are up-kept by the people that live there as a community project. People get together once every few weeks, make food, talk about those that are gone, and make sure none of the stones are broken or stolen.

Erasing memory is a big taboo in hels, understandably. The universe is already cruel enough in taking people, and people, once taken, are woefully easy to forget [they were never meant to exist in the first place, after all]. On the sides of town where the Order of Remembrance upkeeps the walls, anyone caught stealing or destroying stones is tracked down by their paladins, and subjected to community service under close supervision. They're often roughed up in the process, but the paladins won't kill you for breaking a stone. Depending on whose stone you break, and how angry hels is that day, the same can't be said for anyone else who catches you. Repeat offenders, or people who destroy many stones at once with the express intent of erasing memory, are branded by the Order with a mark somewhere visible, normally on the hands. Anyone with that unlucky brand will see increased hostility from their peers, ostricization, lost of livelihood and home -- it's a great way to make everyone in hels hate you. Anyone on Cleo's side of town caught destroying a stone is hunted actively in the streets, and leaving her side of town will not save them. She offers high bounties for that kind of thing.

[westwindy1]

imagine manny didn’t know Jack had amnesia and all his years of silence was punishment for him not going back to his family

[reinanova]

what are some of the unspoken rules of the BAU?

obviously we’ve got “no inter-team profiling” but what else is there?

for example: “parties are always hosted at the rossi mansion” and “mandatory team movie nights with popcorn”

this may or may not be related to a fic idea i had/want to write and i’ve got some ideas of unspoken rules but if you have more please lmk!

(can be as serious or as silly as you’d like)

[moonlarking]

2022 is the year of sad wet pathetic emo loser dudes

[happyk44]

The thing was Percy didn't like being a bad kid. Every time he got kicked out of a school or wound up in the counselor's office over some incident he wasn't completely blameless for, his mom's brows would pinch. The line on her lip dipped. He knew what she was thinking each time: lost wages, job risk, who was going to watch him if he got suspended, where would she send him if he got kicked out, and so on.

He hated that he did that to her. Being a bad kid meant being a bad son. He refused to be a bad son - not on purpose anyway.

Well, he used to. She wasn't here anymore. Her brows weren't going to furrow. Her lips wouldn't thin. Her shoulders wouldn't draw up and tense before the principal even opened their mouth. It was over.

He didn't have anyone anymore. Nobody at cabin eleven would look at him. Other cabins steered around him like he was carrying the plague. Grover was off doing whatever satyrs did - probably getting ready to infiltrate some new school, befriend some new kid, save their lives. He didn't need Percy. It’d only been a few days but they'd barely interacted. Older satyrs would yank him along into the wood before Percy could get close or even open his mouth. Even Annabeth just eyed Percy with scrutinizing eyes - like she was assessing him for something. But every time he tried to approach her outside of their lessons, she brushed him off.

No one wanted Percy around.

What was the point of being a good kid anymore? There wasn't anything or anyone forcing him to keep his head above water. He was tired of the murmurs. He was tired of the avoidance. Tired of the glares from the Ares cabin. Tired of trying to keep the quake in his stomach tamped down.

He was just tired.

He thumbed along the flat edge of his sword. His new best friend was the pervasive feeling of loneliness. With a miserable sigh, he tucked the sword into the holster on his hip. People barely wanted to spar with him now so he was stuck to sweating it out on the dummies by himself. At least only when Luke wasn't pushing him as hard as possible.

But even with Luke there seemed to be pause. The first time Percy felt his gut yank after being claimed had been in training with Luke, and as soon as the feeling caught him, Luke begged off. Like he'd seen something in Percy that unnerved him. Sometimes when Percy looked in the mirror, he saw something in his eyes that unnerved him. A foreign thing - like a contact lens put in the wrong way.

No amount of poking or prodding at his eyes was going to get it out though. It was inside him - in his blood. He was sure of it.

He was starting to worry that it was the very thing he'd been keeping back, the very thing his mom was trying to keep him safe from.

The clang of metal against metal was loud as he walked past other trainees. There were a couple people leaning against the wall near the water fountain. As expected, they shifted away as he neared. Mistrust was bright in their eyes.

He did his best to ignore it. Not the first time people had stared at him like they thought he was dangerous. Or beneath them.

The water sprayed for a moment before he lowered his head. It was clarifying. He'd noticed it before, a burst of energy with every sip whenever he was tired, but ever since being claimed, he'd noticed the alertness more and more.

As he let go of the button, he caught the tail end of the muttering nearby. His stomach dropped.

“... should've ditched him sooner,” one boy grumbled. His friend snorted. “Maybe then she wouldn't have died.”

“What did you say?” The two startled. Percy understood why. He barely recognized his own voice, the eerie coldness to it frosty on his own tongue. Still, he repeated as he twisted on his heels to face them. “What. Did you just say?”

Panic besot them. For a second, the barest of a second, he could feel it kick in - be a good boy for me, Percy, be a good kid for Mom.

But she wasn't here.

She wasn't here.

So what was the point?

He took a step forward. “What,” he snarled, saliva coating his tongue like froth, “did you say?”

The others shifted away but he just crept forward. “Nothing, man,” one of them finally bit out, but they were lying. He could see it in their eyes, hear in their voice, feel it in their veins.

“You're lying,” he said. A bitten off laugh echoed from his lips. “You were talking about my mom.” Another choked laugh. “You think it's my fault?”

One of them raised his hands - a mock surrender. “Hey, dude-”

“You think I wanted her to die?” A sharp sensation coiled through Percy's chest. It thrummed hot and heavy, piling, piling, piling on his lungs. “You think I asked for ANY OF THIS?”

Someone's hand came to rest on his shoulder and it was like the crashing of the waves against his bare feet. Cold, clarifying, clear.

Freeing.

His fist drove straight into the jaw of whoever was behind him. He could barely tell who he was seeing - it might've been Luke, or any other tall blonde guy. But as soon as whoever it was stumbled back, he whirled around and punched whichever kid was closest in the stomach. They went down and he clambered on top to wail. Fist and fist upon whatever body part he could reach. He wasn't the most elegant hand-to-hand fighter but there was something to be said for the voracious and vicious energy boiling through him.

Distantly he was aware of yelling around him, aware of people pulling at him, aware of the person beneath him crying, arms over their face, arms Percy was tired of hitting. He needed to get their face, get their tongue, rip his mom from their mouth. How dare they speak about her.

How dare anyone talk about her.

A dozen hands finally yanked him back. He screamed. Bodies toppled. He grabbed the closest one by their hair, driving his knee upwards over and over again until hands ripped him away again. Swung blindly and caught someone. The two of them fell. His stomach pulled back. They choked. They weakened. He swung himself over until he was on top.

I want you all to drown, he thought, grabbing at their jaw. Don't ever speak of her again.

Saliva smeared across his fingers. His stomach pulled back even more. What was that - blood, water? On his hands, on his knees, on their skin, on their faces, in their veins.

His free hand drew out. He wanted it. It was his. Didn't they get that? She was his, and she was gone, so he would take and take all else that belonged to him until the hole in his chest was gone. Until the water they had coursing inside them filled him up.

“Percy,” someone whispered.

Their voice was familiar, breath hot against Percy's ear. He twitched. The feeling of nearby water, nearby fluid, was clenched tight in his fist. He just had to pull back. Yank it. Make it his.

The voice turned pleading. “Percy.”

He froze as two hot hands came to clasp his cheeks, dark brown eyes and curly hair blurring into view. Grover's face.

“Grover,” he breathed. For the first time since he'd ended up at camp, he relaxed.

Grover's thumbs stroked his skin. “Yeah, it's me.” He leaned in closer. “Percy, you need to stop.”

“Stop?”

“You're hurting people," he said. “You have to stop.”

Why? Percy thought. He didn't care. He didn't care if they hurt, didn't care if they drowned where they laid choking, didn't care if they suffered. It didn't mean anything to him. They didn't mean anything to him.

But this was Grover.

And with his mom gone, Grover meant the world.

“You want me to stop?”

“Yes,” Grover said. His breath was warm, his skin hot, his body close. Distantly Percy remembered nights at school like this - Grover tucked up next to him, trying his best to help Percy study when most people would've bailed. “I want you to stop.”

His lips were wobbling. His eyes were thick with wetness. His voice was unsteady - trying to be calm and rapidly failing. Even his hands shook.

Percy grabbed at his wrists. “Okay,” he whispered as he clung. His stomach relaxed slowly, the crash turning into a tickle. “I'm good, I'm good.”

Shakily, Grover exhaled, pressed his forehead to Percy's, and murmured, “I know, I know.”

His hands pulled away from Percy's face, but not away from him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. Percy's breathing wobbled as he tucked his face into the crook of Grover's neck. He clung tight and desperate. Pleading.

No, he couldn't be a good son anymore. He didn't have to bother keeping in check to avoid the thin line of his mom's lips. But he could be a good friend. To keep the tears out of Grover's eyes, the tremble from his skin.

“I can be good,” he promised quietly, for Grover's ears only. “I promise I can be good.”

“I know,” Grover said. His cheek pressed against Percy's. “I believe you.”

-

The fountain nearby trickled quietly. The steady flow soothed the unease between Percy's shoulders. Still, he squeezed the pillow in his grip tighter to his chest as he watched Grover flit around the bunk closest to him. He snapped the final end of the sheet around the mattress. Hooves clopped quietly against the tile as he stepped back. His gaze flickered between Percy's bed and his own.

Then he grunted and began pushing it closer.

Percy hopped up. The discarded pillow slipped from his fingers and onto the floor. He nearly tripped over it trying to get to Grover's side. They pushed the other bunk over until it was pressed into Percy's.

While Grover unfurled his blanket, Percy stepped back. Awkwardness choked him. He didn't know what to do, what to say. So he picked the pillow off from the floor and pressed it into his chest. Grover didn't spare him many glances as he worked to make up the bed. Leaning across his bunk, he yanked Percy's blanket from between the seam where the two bed frames connected and began tying the edges of both blankets together. It was shoddy work, no way it wasn't coming apart just from them lying on the sheets, much less sleeping.

But Grover did it anyway.

As he shifted back, hooves scraping the floor, Percy held out the pillow. Grover dusted off the top then laid it against the headboard. With both hands on his hips, he admired his work. Percy stared at it too. It was nice. Joined bed. Grover within direct reach.

His palms itched.

“Are you scared of me?”

Grover twisted around. His brows furrowed, but the edges of his lips were quirked upwards. It was reminiscent of school - Percy stumbling over something he read and Grover, lost but amused, over why Percy thought it was a man-of-war that Theseus fought.

He was partially grateful Grover cut him off before he could finish what he actually thought the sentence was trying to say. It certainly wasn't fight.

“I mean,” Grover started and Percy's stomach drew back. Behind him the trickle of the fountain silenced. Like the water was holding its breath too. “I'm scared for other people, but I'm not scared of you.” He punched Percy's arm with a quiet smile. “I know you're not going to hurt me, Percy. That's why I stopped you.”

The fountain began to trickle again. “And that-” He faltered. The ghost Grover's touched goosed up his bicep and across his shoulder. “-that doesn't worry you?”

That you might have to stop me again went unspoken but Grover was always good at understanding Percy's unspoken words, at knowing his unspoken feelings - even the ones Percy wasn't even aware he felt.

He sighed. “It worries me. But not because it's you.” He shook his head. “And definitely not because I'm scared of you hurting me.”

His eyes scanted away, brows furrowing deeper. Then he relaxed into the bed. After teetering on his heels for a couple seconds, Percy joined him. He gripped the edge of his shorts so tight his palms burned. Grover reached over to stroke along the back of his hand.

He exhaled slowly and let go.

“You remember Pan?” Grover asked.

Percy paused. “The satyr god, right?”

“Yeah.” Grover pulled away to tug at his fingers. “He's been missing for a while. Ever since the industrial age took off. And no one knows where he is. It's the dream of every satyr to find him, so that nature can return to the way it was.”

“That your dream?”

He nodded solemnly. “You have to be a Protector first, before you can get your Searcher’s license. But I'm not like the others.” His gaze fell down. His hands sat in his lap, cupped around nothing but air. “I don't want him just so we can bring nature back to its peak.” He sighed. “We were a lot different when Pan was still around. More free. More wild. I want satyrs and nymphs - all of us to be us again!”

Percy leaned into him. “What's stopping you?”

Grover snorted. “People forgot. We were more than just Pan's disciples. We fought to protect the wild from mankind. We didn't just sit around waiting for him to tell us what to do. But nobody wants to do anything.” He scowled. “They think when Pan returns he'll fix it all and I-” He bit his lip, then shook his head. “The world has changed. And gods don't get involved like that. Not to the extent they want him to. It's not in their nature. But if he comes back then maybe…”

He faced Percy. His eyes were watery, darkening the already dark brown of his eyes into shots of black. The welled tears glistened ever so slightly. Like the night sky, free of pollution.

His lips wobbled into a gentle smile. “But that's why I'm not afraid. You’re like nature at its purest form - chaotic, wild, unburdened.”

Normally those words wouldn't hit Percy as compliments. Insults, degradation - things that would deflate him and make his mom frown. But Grover sounded so earnest, his heart swelled.

“You can't tell, but I can feel it.” He swung his arm over Percy's shoulders and tugged him in close. “Your demigod essence, this sense of the wild that I've been searching for my whole life.” He gestured loosely. “Even the Demeter kids don't have that. Their mom is all agriculture and farming and that's great and all, but it's not pure nature, it's not the wild.” He squeezed Percy's shoulder as best he could with one hand. “You remind me of home, Percy.”

The frog Percy hadn't noticed in his throat jumped out with a burst sob-laugh. He tried to tile away, but Grover just tugged him close, bringing around his other arm to keep Percy pinned. Nonetheless his hold was fairly loose, like Percy was a stray cat he didn't want scratching him if he felt like running.

Or like he knew that Percy was the ocean through and through, unwilling to be contained, wanting to flow wherever he saw fit.

Percy practically crawled into his lap, sniffling into Grover's shoulder. Warm hands stroked up and down his back. He laughed quietly - a half-distressed noise marrying the sound, but managed a breathy wheeze of, “You remind me of home too.”

Grover kissed the top of his head. For the first time since arriving, he shattered. All his twisted up emotions committed out in a tidal wave of tears and broken gasps. All the while Grover held him. As tight as Percy clung to him, he didn't complain. Just held on even tighter. Wetness from Grover's own tears smeared across Percy's skin.

Ever the empathetic. Like his mom.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. “Please don't leave without saying goodbye,” he begged in a hollow, hoarse whisper.

“I won't,” Grover promised.

They held onto each other even as tears and cries faded away. Grover kept stroking his back with both hands. Percy continued to cling.

Shoulders shaking, Percy wound the fabric of Grover's shirt over his fingers. After a few minutes of toiling silence, he whispered. “I think I'm changing.” He pressed his forehead to Grover's collarbone. “I'm scared.” He pulled back and stared into Grover's eyes. “What do I do?”

“Be my best friend,” Grover said, like it was the simplest answer in the world. And as soon as the words fell off his tongue, it did. How silly was Percy not to think of it before? “My best friend is a good person, the best kind of wild.”

“I can do that,” Percy promised. “I swear, I can do that.”

“I know,” Grover said, squeezing Percy's cheek. His thumb swiped away at a still wet tear under Percy's eye. The stroke was soft, gentle. Kind. “I believe you.”

[heph]

Hey guys! Didn't know i had to say this, but tracing my artwork and posting it online casually is something that I do not want - trace it all you want for practice, but i don't appreciate having my artwork replicated and shown on social media for your enjoyment.

My work isnt a meme, and even if i draw funny jokes, don't trace it with the intention to post. Please respect artists, and be kind to others as well 🩷

[chaikajpeg]

anya will be taller than damian, end of discussion

reference photo: Whip It (2009)

(idk what the context is, hopefully nothing that can get me cancelled)

[3-frogs-in-a-trenchcoat]

random thoughts on athena and annabeth

annabeth is widely recognized as the pride of athena's offspring, meaning she would have had to put in the insane level of effort, training and obedience required to reach the level of perfection and devotion that would have earned her the title, both by her peers, her enemies (alecto said something to that effect) and presumably athena herself (im relying on the fact that even in the books the other children of athena we meet dont have magical items from their mother like annabeth has her hat).

but that was before and while she was at camp. before she got to camp and before she met luke and thalia, she was likely relying mostly on her wits to survive, yk, having the strength and training of a SEVEN yr old. its likely athena would have recognized this (even if she doesnt interfere or help bc shes a god and why would she), annabeth gets to camp and becomes a year rounder, she probably gets claimed relatively early in her time at chb (if we leave enough time for her to become her cabin's counselor by virtue of being there the longest). she is able to succeed greatly but thats largely in controlled environment (monsters dont get into camp unless you go looking for them in the forest, and none at camp at the time is purpose looking to kill). annabeth is able to live up to athena's standard of perfection while the conditions are favorable and controlled. its not to say her life wasnt hard at chb, but the point of chb's existence is to keep demigods safe. its literally said the reason she wants to go on a quest is bc the only way left to prove herself to her mother is out there, in the real world, with real threats.

she gets her wish and is thrust in a volatile environment for her, where she knows she is the one with the most experience and takes the responsibility for keeping her friends alive. she is now supposed to be making the kind of serious decisions that she wouldnt have had to face, at least yet, had she stayed at camp. even so annabeth has been and is the picture of unquestionable devotion to athena, and medusa acknowleges it. "i wasnt like you, i WAS you"

but, like medusa, one slip up was all it took to fall from athena's grace. poseidon did not care for medusa but percy does already care deeply for annabeth. once its brought to his attention that the hat is annabeth's only acknowledgment from athena and a reminder that maybe athena does love her, maybe she is watching over her, he does the first thing that comes to his mind to let her keep it, a desicion that is naturally influenced by his own feelings about and for his father and the gods in general. annabeth goes along because, among other reasons, she gets to keep her hat. annabeth is still part human and even then she recognizes that the gods will not like it; her mother does not know her but she knows her mother enough to know her likely reaction. all it takes for annabeth, previously implied the favourite (if that means something), is for her to listen to her emotions, listen to her human side and even listen to percy, for athena to decide that annabeth is not worth it anymore. and she puts the responsability of her wounded pride (poor her) on annabeth even though she very likely knows that both her and grover protested sending the head to olympus for the very same reason she would use to punisher her. bc lets face it, by letting echidna into the arch, athena, a strategist, was probably aware that her daughter would be the one to face the chimera and was not expecting her to survive.

side note: percy makes a pretty logical argument that the head can be considered tribute and why shouldn't it really? athena is embarrased when annabeth kills one of her enemies and sends her the proof but years later sends her to a quest where she KNOWS annabeth will have to kill another of her enemies and offer her the proof, another woman made an enemy only by virtue of a percieved offense. the two situations are barely different but athena gets to decide when something is her will and when its embarrasing. wisdom where??

athena expects her children to honor her by acting on the side of wisdom, whatever that may mean to her. by ignoring the reasons annabeth let the head arrive at olympus and blaming her rather than percy directly, athena shows that she does not believe that emotions have a place in wisdom, in strategic thinking, directly foreshadowing the lesson she is forced to learn (and quickly forget) at the end of the series: (SPOILERS FOR SHOW ONLYS) that MAYBE letting their children feel neglected enough so that they defect to the dark side fighting for their destruction (which nearly succeds by the way, were it not for percy's EMOTION DRIVEN decision to give the dagger to luke, bc lemme tell you that was not the strategic move) was PROBABLY not the wisest move.

and if these things are true for annabeth, the supposed favourite, then how difficult is it for annabeth's siblings to gain their mother's respect or acknowledgement and how easily can they lose it? i would not be surprised if the show sets it up for more children of athena to defect camp than is mentioned in the books. The books don't really specify which cabin lost the most demigods to kronos' side, apart from the unclaimed. but it would not be out of this world to me for children of athena, if tempted by luke and company and they unlearn their belief in their mother's perfection, to associate all those issues to their mother's hypocrisy. and i believe athena to be amongst the most hypocritic gods simply bc of the nature of prioritizing strategy etc above all other things, being the one to recognize the root of the problem and then doing practically nothing better for five more books. especially when from the get go, the show is really honing in on the main character *openly and frequently* questioning the unfairness of the god's treatment, whats not say, after later events ifykyk, children of athena who dont have the same loyalty to percy annabeth does but do have the information at hand she does, wont come to the same conclusion?