#and then there's apollo who has way more power but zeus can still ruin him at any moment just to displace blame from himself

[radiantmists]

binged both chalice of the gods and the hidden oracle in the last few days and tbh i don't care if zeus would blast me to bits, if he were real it would be on sight

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #92: Percy/Apollo, but make it The Trojan War

Into every fandom, a time travel fic must fall - or in this case a second one, because I somehow got to thinking about the delightful PJO trope of Percy being thrown back in time to The Trojan War and realized that doing so misses out on a fantastic opportunity.

Or: What if post-TOA Percy Jackson and Apollo time travel to shortly before The Trojan War?

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon through TOA, with one exception: rather than struggle to catch up in the mortal world following the Second Gigantomachy, Percy elects to stay at Camp Half-Blood. There he can homeschool at his own place with programs tailored towards ADHD children and still visit his family on the weekends - and not get into any more ridiculous situations in the mortal world when one of the gods kidnaps him or sends him on a quest to find their sneakers.

This, naturally, stresses his relationship with Annabeth - who, now that she's no longer living at camp full time, calls it the easy way out. But Percy is tired and struggling in mortal high school where everyone thinks he's a delinquent idiot when another option exists seems foolish. Percy and Annabeth break up and drift apart.

Enter Apollo, fresh from his latest stint as a mortal. He's trying to do his best by his children, which includes popping by camp as often as he can get away with - which in turn means spending a lot of time with Percy, who at this point is unofficially running CHB because it's not like Dionysus or even Chiron have done a brilliant job of it in recent times.

(First aid, strategy, and mythology classes are made mandatory. Percy personally ensures every demigod knows enough about self-defense to be able to survive long enough to run away or for help to arrive. Bullying is cracked down on so hard that it's this, not Percy's generally parental nature, that has people calling him Camp Mom.)

Percy and Apollo become friendly. Enough so that some of Apollo's kids assume they're dating and keeping it on the down-low so as not to draw Zeus' ire. Or Poseidon's. Or anyone else's. It's on one of their not-dates that they're yeeted into the past, without warning or explanation.

And so 19-year-old Percy Jackson and post-TOA Apollo find themselves in Ancient Greece c. 1220 BCE, roughly thirty-five years before the destruction of Troy.

The time travel is immediately obvious, as Apollo becomes the closest thing a god might experience to being high the moment they land in the past - being a powerful god in modern times is nothing like being a powerful god at the height of his power in ancient times. It's overwhelming (and somewhat alarming from Percy's POV, but kind of funny in retrospect.)

The specific date is harder to determine, but made clear when Hermes shows up and starts going on about you'll never believe what father's done now: he seduced the Spartan queen as a swan and she's laid an egg. Hera is furious - especially as they're saying the girl that hatched from it is the most beautiful in the world, even though she's only a few days old. It's nuts. By the way, where have you been? You missed the last two council meetings. Do you want Dad to punish you?

Apollo at this stage is very high. He's also been USTing over Percy for quite some time and is worried what the gods of this era might do to Percy without divine protection (smiting or seduction, it's all on the table). But mostly he's very high, and so to keep Percy close and safe he declares he's been off having the dirtiest of dirty weekends with his latest lover and that Hermes' presence is ruining the mood. So if he would kindly leave, please and thank you, he'd really rather get back to it without an audience.

This, naturally, is a surprise to Percy, but he rolls with it because 1) he doesn't have any better ideas on how to get rid of Ancient Greek Hermes so they can figure out what the hades is going on and 2) he's been USTing over Apollo ever since he recovered enough from Tartarus to start feeling attraction again.

Fueled by mutual UST, they put together a cover story that should hold the next time a god with too much prurient interest shows: Percy is now Prince Persē of Gadir - a Phoenician colony that will grow into the future Cadiz - well past the edge of the Greek world at this stage but not beyond belief for Poseidon to have visited, as it's obvious who his father is. They claim his mother is the King of Gadir's youngest sister and as such Persē had a royal upbringing, but was far enough down the line of succession that he was free to chose to sail east and explore his father's homeland. Apollo caught sight of him on his journey, one thing led to another, and here they are.

(Are there easier, more sensible cover stories? Possibly. But the UST refuses to let them consider any of them now that a fake relationship is on the table.)

Deciding what to do about The Trojan War is much harder. On the one hand, it's a lot of senseless death and destruction. On the other, without it we don't get The Iliad and The Odyssey - two of the most influential works of literature in western civilization - and Aeneas doesn't go off to Italy (leading to the founding of Rome, which would change the history of western civilization a lot). In the end, they decide to let the war happen but do their best to mitigate the worst parts of it.

And so Percy goes off and becomes a hero of Ancient Greece while pretending to be in a relationship with Apollo.

This stage of things is filed with angst from both parties, as both Percy and Apollo want a real relationship with each other but think they're abusing the other's trust by eagerly faking their relationship. There's a lot of PDA, a lot of feelings, and limited communication. It goes on for quite a while and would probably exasperate quite a few people if everyone in the know didn't think they were already in a relationship.

It's also filled with modern day Percy being confronted by realties of life in Ancient Greece. It's not just mortals knowing about - and interacting with - the gods: it's everything. It's food and clothes and language and culture and housing and travel. He can play a lot off it as being a traveler from the edge of the known world, but some of it has him asking Apollo if he's being rick rolled.

Apollo, meanwhile, is having troubles of his own. He is not the god he used to be and it's hard pretending otherwise. He tries to walk the line of doing enough to be believable and holding back enough not to despise himself, but it's a fine line, he fails often, and he spends a not insignificant amount of time worried he's backsliding.

And so it goes until 7-year-old Helen of Troy is kidnapped by Theseus to be his wife.

This, naturally, does not fly with Percy, who by this time has built up something of a reputation as a hero. He teams up with the Dioscuri to rescue Helen.

One would think this would earn him Zeus' favor. It doesn't. Instead, Zeus sends monsters to harry him for refusing to let Castor and Pollux take Helen's captors' loved ones captive and raze Aphidna for Theseus' crime. Percy manages to hold his own for quite a while but eventually, exhausted from the near-constant fighting, is gored and left for dead by the reformed Minotaur.

...and when Apollo arrives, frantic, to heal him, Percy ascends instead, becoming the greek version of Saint Sebastian - a minor god of heroes, strength in the face of adversity, and athleticism; sort of halfway between Hercules and Chiron.

Then and only then do Percy and Apollo finally get their act together, confessing to each other how much they care for the other and how much they don't want this to be fake any longer.

History proceeds apace - albeit with Persē being a second immortal trainer of heroes.

24 years after their arrival in the past, 16 years after Percy's ascension, The Trojan War begins. Despite their best efforts, there's only so much they can do - war is war and gods are gods. They are able to stop some of the worst excesses on both sides, but in the end Apollo still sends the plague that causes Agamemnon to take Briseis for his own, which caused Achilles' departure from the field, Patroclus' death, &c - not because Apollo was trying to maintain the timeline, but because in the instant he sent it he was angry and reverted to his old ways.

Troy falls...

...but when Zeus tries to use this as an excuse to ban gods from interacting with their demigod children, Apollo is able to say that's a bit extreme isn't it? with enough backing from the rest of the council that Zeus is forced to amend his ruling so that the gods are only allowed to freely visit their children on the "cross quarter days" that fall between each solstice and equinox (1 February, 1 May, 1 August, and 1 November).

This changes everything and nothing.

Time continues its inevitable march. Greece has its golden age before being conquered by Rome, which splits apart under its own weight and forms several smaller countries, which eventually spread their cultures around the world...

Apollo and Percy are there for it all. Persē is a minor figure in mythology, but never forgotten. He is ever-present in Apollo's temples - though the Church will later try to rewrite their myth so that they were merely sworn fighting partners, rather than lovers who eventually had a quite lovely wedding on Olympus (and then, at Poseidon's insistence, an even bigger ceremony on Atlantis). Percy takes over day-to-day operations of CHB from practically the moment the Trojan War ends.

...and so Persē is there the day Sally Jackson tries to get her son to camp, and is able to intervene when the Minotaur attacks on their border. He's able to meet her and her young son, Perseus ("Mom named me after you and the guy that killed Medusa since you're the only two heroes to have happy endings!"), and guide him through the trials that come with being a child of prophecy.

One day that Percy will hand Luke - who was never happy with the limited attention the gods were allowed to give their children - a cursed dagger so that Kronos can be defeated. That child will be offered godhood, turn it down, and go on to have a happy life with his eventual wife, Annabeth. He will never have his memories erased and be sent to Camp Jupiter. Gaia will not rise until long after that Percy's grandchildren are dead, and Zeus will not be quite so bullheaded when the proof of it is brought before him. That Second Gigantomachy is swift, well-coordinated, and fought without another Greek/Roman war brewing in the background.

And when they finally arrive at the day Apollo and Percy were originally sent back in time, Percy admits that while he is happy some version of him was better prepared for the war he was asked to fight in and allowed his peace afterward, he would change nothing about his own life, for it brought him to Apollo. The sunrise the next morning - on the first morning of the rest of their lives - is particularly spectacular.

Bonuses include:

Gaslighting Poseidon into believing that he's met Percy before the first time they're introduced. ("What do you mean you don't remember me, Father? You were present when I came of age! You gifted me this trident! Have I displeased you in some way?") It's an absolute masterclass that eventually manages to convince Poseidon that, yes, of course he knows Percy - and, maybe, he should check in on all his other demigod children to make sure he's not missed someone. (Two. He lost track of two of the others. Maybe he should be more careful about siring children in the future.) Apollo practically has to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing.

As much historical accuracy as can be crammed into the Percy trying to make sense of Ancient Greece chapters as possible. Think Of a Linear Circle - Part III by flamethrower levels of historical research. As much as can be shoehorned in without bogging down the plot.

Percy and Dionysus bonding over their mutual dislike of Theseus, though Percy generally gets along with his other half-siblings, especially the ones who come to camp young enough to keep from getting big heads over being the children of Poseidon.

Though Percy adores all the children in Cabin 7 (most of whom are born via blessing this time around), he and Apollo have at least one child of their own - maybe a demigod born before Percy's ascension to sell their fake relationship? Maybe a minor god who's later attributed a different parentage by mortals? Dealer's choice on details.

It never being made clear who, or what, or how, Percy and Apollo were sent into the past. All of Percy's oddities are attributed to him being foreign or formerly mortal, all of Apollo's to the fact that he's in love with someone who didn't die before their first anniversary, and no one ever guesses time travel is responsible for their eccentricities. Or that time travel was ever an option.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you ever decide to do anything with it.

More PJO Ideas | More Terrible Fic Ideas

[ennas-aesthetic]

Dream, Orpheus, and the Constellation Lyra

One of my favorite Sandman headcanons involves the constellation Lyra, and I'll explain why.

-- Also, fair warning: this is a SANDMAN COMICS SPOILERS ZONE from here on out. --

Lyra is a small constellation located in the Northern Celestial Hemisphere. It is mostly seen in the northern sky from June through October, and while it is considered a relatively dim constellation, contains Vega, one of the brightest stars in the night sky.

Lyra, also known as The Lyre, is often associated with the myth of the Greek musician and poet Orpheus. Specifically, it was his lyre: the one he brought to the Underworld to get Eurydice back. According to legend, after Orpheus was mutilated and killed by the maenads, a deity (often thought to be Zeus), took his lyre and hung it in the heavens.

Now, of course I'm not saying that the stars in the constellation Lyra ONLY appeared after Orpheus' death. What I AM saying is that constellations are, more often than not, effigies of stories: markers of tales that are immortalized, set in stone, thought to live forever. Because what is more Endless than the stars that shine in the night sky? (The illusion of permanence, Destruction had waxed poetically.) And though one does not control the placement and (seeming) permanence of the stars, one CAN control the stories assigned to a particular asterism. Used in memoriam. And there is only one anthropomorphic personification who has both the motive and the power to do so.

Dream, after all, is the Prince of Stories.

He is also often mistaken to be the Greek God Apollo - Orpheus' father who, legend says, gave Orpheus his lyre.

He is, in fact, Orpheus' father.

And just... the implication of Dream figuratively hanging his son's lyre in the heavens by immortalizing the myths and tales that spurned from it is soo compelling and incredibly heartbreaking for me. Even more so if you actually think about when he might have done it -- if he had started to immortalize the story behind the asterism right after he said his goodbyes to Orpheus, told him he would never see him again. That he wasn't his father anymore. The action tells such a secret, heart-rending pain and ache, showing that perhaps Dream wasn't as unaffected by the falling apart as he appeared to be. That there is still a bitter kind of love in there, somewhere. That Dream, too, wished that things had been otherwise, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

What's even better is that this does not seem to be Dream's first time putting up memorials to preserve stories that MEAN something to him. In the Netflix show, the Gates of Horn and Ivory contain bas-relief sculptures of what looked like him and a girl. Anyone who has read Overture, of course, would immediately know that the bas-relief is HIS AND ALIANORA'S LOVE STORY. Unto the Gates of Horn and Ivory Dream has carved the story of a girl of light who saved him, and who - like most of his lovers - eventually felt abandoned and forsaken by him.

There's just SO MUCH to unpack in this if he has done the memorial bit more than once. Why does he do it? Is it to remind him of his shortcomings? To torture himself for all the mistakes he has done, to remember to keep everyone at arm's length lest his love shatters and ruins them? A stark, solid admonishment to continue pushing his feelings down, to never mourn or grieve, or feel, lest it destroys the collective unconscious entirely? Perhaps we'll never find out. All we'll know is that those stars will continue to shine and that Orpheus' tale will probably last, as permanent as the lyre his father has lovingly crafted, then hung in the heavens. A tale of pride, love, regret, and tragedy.

We'll tell it again. And again. And again.

And in that way, he lives.

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible. 

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization. 

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is. 

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane. 

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 17: I Swim For The First Time...?

It was Annabeth's idea. She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front." "You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked. He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first." Annabeth handed him her green Lotus Cash card. He looked at it skeptically. "Swipe it," Annabeth invited. He did.

His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign. The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?" "The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell she liked the "Your Highness" thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change." Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert. On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. Percy told us about his latest dream. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it was somebody I knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord" ... some special name or title.... "The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades." "Maybe..." he said.

"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described." He shook my head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit... I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."

The crooked one... Annabeth's eyes widened. And looked at Percy. Who had a look of realization. "What?" I asked. "Oh... nothing. I was just—No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—" "Like what?" "I—I don't know," she said. "But if he stole Zeus's symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the bolt." I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She looked pale. "But if Percy already retrieved the bolt," I said, "why would we be traveling to the Underworld?" "To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your parents back." I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." "Why, thank you."

"Only mine is there. I'd rather get Y/N's than mine." Percy said gripping my hand.

"Huh?"

"You lost them thanks to me." He smiled weakly. "A-Anyways, the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," I reminded. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?" Grover shook his head, clearly mystified. Annabeth was looking at me as if she knew my next question, and was silently willing me not to ask it.

I have every answers. I could tell you. What do you wish to know? We are to help one another after all...

Could you tell me how I could save my parents?

Save them?  As I told you only we could save them. Being there, you'd know your only option. Only you could do it. Do you wish to know more?

What's this quest?

A trap. Next one?

Who is my parent?

Hahaha, that is a question I shan't answer. Just believe in all gods. Befriend them and you'll know. You could trust them all.

Even Zeus, Hades and Poseidon? They kinda suck...

Unless you're positive they aren't your parent, you don’t have to.

Yeah, can I have like... I don't know... I kinda want Hephaestus. He seems coolest. I an NOT blessed in like singing and all that so I can’t be Apollo's.

I've already given you a parent. My apologies. The one I chose would be... quite a friend. Would you want to know more?

Well not re---

"Y/NN!! Ask more about the quest and Percy's dream!!!" I hear Annabeth scream at my ear.

"Oh my gods! Don't scream at my ear!" I yelled pushing her away. "What do you mean ask about Percy's dream? Who will I ask? The driver?"

"You----"

"She can't remember whenever that happens." Percy explained. "They already told us."

"What are you guys talking about??"

"Nothing. We were thinking about the pit..." Annabeth sighed.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" I asked her. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?" "Y/N... let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades... No. It has to be Hades." Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES. The problem was: we were hurtling toward the Underworld at ninety-five miles an hour, betting that Hades had the master bolt. If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and war would begin. "The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth assured us. "You saw spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing." She tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject. And believe me, I'd done that enough times. The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler, it reminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice. At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave. Grover, Annabeth, Percy, and I walked down to the edge of the surf. "What now?" Annabeth asked. The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea. I felt anxious being near the water. Percy took my hand.

"What?" I said slowly pulling away from him.

"Trust me and come with me." He said looking at me in the eye. "Percy," Annabeth said. "That's stupid! She can barely stay alive up here!"

"If the water pulls her could you save her?" He glared at the two. "As long as she holds me she'll be safe." He gripped my hand.

"I-I'll trust you... But I have to make sure you won't let me drown... I-I need---" Annabeth then sighed and walked over to us taking our wrist.

"If she drowns I am totally not siding on you during the war." She hissed at Percy while tying Aphrodite's scarf on our wrist.

"how do you have that?" Percy asked.

"I forgot I gave it to her." With our wrist attached by a cloth, he held my hand tight then we kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.

"I'm scared..." I gulped. Percy pulled me closer. That's when my head went under. I held my breath at first. It's difficult to intentionally inhale water. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I gasped. Sure enough, I could breathe normally. Percy was smiling at me, with his arms still around me. We walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together. I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of the water like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark. I almost screamed until I saw how cute it was. The thing wasn't attacking. It was nuzzling me. Heeling like a dog. Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin. It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. Percy took my hand and wrapped it on the fin, he grabbed the fin with both hands, so I followed his actions. It took off, pulling us along. The shark carried us down into the darkness. It deposited us at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there. The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. I knew I should've been crushed by the pressure. Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe. I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to the bottom of the Pacific. Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. A woman's voice, "Percy Jackson." As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk. Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractingly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding. She dismounted. The sea horse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done. And you brought... a friend." I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed. "H-Hello..."

"You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River." Percy said. "Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court." "An... you serve in Poseidon's court?" She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest." I felt so out of placed being here so I wrapped my arms around Percy tighter. "If my father is so interested in me," Percy said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?" A cold current rose out of the depths. "Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told him. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism." "Even to their own children?" "Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. Why do you think they're trying to find who Y/N's parent is? They helped raising her, that's why her scent is gone."

"M-My Olympian parent raised me? I don't remember anyone... I'm pretty sure neither my mom or dad are Olympians... or Greek."

"Well that is what they're trying to figure out."

"Well, what's my father doing then?"

"That is why I give you a warning, and a gift."

She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm. "I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?" "Urn... no, ma'am." "Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to manhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet." "What will happen?" "That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

Percy took the three pearls and pocketed it. "Oh... but there are four of us. We'll need one more."

She looked at me and Percy. Then looked at her empty palm. "Your father..."

"I'm not leaving any of them if I need to use this." Percy said firmly.

She sighed and out came another pearl. Instead of handing it to Percy she handed it to me. "The lord does not like you. He's been firm and obvious of that fact. But... as his son refuse to leave you..."

I took the pearl reluctantly and thanked her. "What about the warning?" Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you mistrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave. Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson." She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void. "Wait!" Percy called. "At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?" "Good-bye, young hero," she called back, her voice fading into the depths. "You must listen to your heart." She became a speck of glowing green, and then she was gone. "Your dad... must really hate me to leave me in Underworld when worse comes to worse..." I muttered burying my face on his neck.

"Don't worry... I won't let him hurt you, just because whoever your parent is raised you." He kicked upward toward the shore. When we reached the beach, our clothes dried instantly. Percy told Grover and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls. Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price. Not to mention Y/N is hated." "They were free." "No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait." On that happy thought, we turned our backs on the sea. With some spare change from Ares's backpack, we took the bus into West Hollywood. We showed the driver the Underworld address slip we'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told Percy. "You a child actor or something?" "Uh ... I'm a stunt double ... for a lot of child actors." "Oh! That explains it." We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop. We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book. Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars. Percy froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody

"—my stepdad, Smelly Gabe." He explained.

He was talking to Barbara Walters—I mean, as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand. A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife... my Camaro... I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it." "There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent boy with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver. He has taken a young girl that goes by Y/N L/N with her." The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares. "Who are the two other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Percy Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America." "C'mon," Grover told me. He hauled us away.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid. L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld by tomorrow, the summer solstice. We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging. As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you." Like an idiot, I stopped. Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all—white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the kids at Yancy Academy: rich brats playing at being bad boys. Instinctively, I drew my knife. When the knife appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade.

Percy then pulled me behind him and swung Riptide. The kid yelped. But he must've been one hundred percent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the..." I figured I had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger. "Run!" I screamed taking Percy's hand. We pushed two kids out of the way and raced down the street, not knowing where we were going. We turned a sharp corner. "There!" Annabeth shouted. Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE. "Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated. It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified. We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the gang kids ran past outside. "I think we lost them," Grover panted. A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?" We all jumped. Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to. His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck—I couldn't even count them. "I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are. "Sorry to barge in," Percy told him. "We were just, um, browsing." "You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?" I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on my shoulder and steered me deeper into the showroom. There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size. "This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O. "Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way. "Um," Percy said, "I don't think..." "Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool." "Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost." "Almost what?" I asked. He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favor and try this one over here, honey. Might fit." Annabeth said, "But what—" He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teakwood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her. "Hey!" she protested. Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!" Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress. Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down. "N-not c-c-cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!" The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and Percy to grin. "Almost, darn it." I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of my neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec." "Let my friends go." "Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first." "What do you mean?" "All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short. Got to make them fit." Annabeth and Grover kept struggling. "Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!" A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and Annabeth's ankles, then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends. "Don't worry," Crusty told us, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?" "Percy! Y/N!" Grover yelled. My mind was racing. I knew I couldn't take on this giant water-bed salesman alone. He would snap my neck before I ever got my sword out. "Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" Percy asked. "Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted. "The Stretcher," I said. I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens. "Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes? Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that." "You're right. It's got a good ring to it." His eyes lit up. "You think so?" "Oh, absolutely," I said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

Percy looked at me weirdly. When I gave him a nod he must've understood. He got closer to hold my arm. Crusty grinned hugely, his fingers still didn't loosen on my neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?" "Not too many." "That's right!" "Y/N!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?" "Don't mind her," Percy told Procrustes. "She's impossible." The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting." "What do you do if they're longer than six feet?" "Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix." He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end." "Ah," Percy said, swallowing hard. "Sensible." "I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!" The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose. "So, Crusty..." I said, trying to keep my voice light. I glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?" "Absolutely. Try it out." "Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?" "Guaranteed." "No way." "Way." "Show me." He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. "No waves. See?" I snapped my fingers. "Ergo." Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress. "Hey!" he yelled. "Center him just right," I said. The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom. "No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo." Percy uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments ..." "You drive a hard bargain," he told us. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'" "I think I'll start with the top." Percy raised my sword. "No money down! No interest for six months!" He swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers. I cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet, groaning and wincing and cursing me a lot. "You look taller," I said. "Very funny," Annabeth said. "Be faster next time."

Percy looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map. "Come on," Percy said. "Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death.'" "Then you're ready for the Underworld," I said. "It's only a block from here."

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[wallstoothin]

Revolution (P5/PJO)

A warm up fic that I'm too nervous to put on A03. Unedited.

At age sixteen, Akira never expected to be part of a war. But then again, life as a demigod is anything but normal to begin with. He’s not even...he’s not even anything in the eyes of the gods but for some reason he was the child of the prophecy, whatever that meant. Akira always considered it a death sentence in waiting. Aren’t prophecies once in a lifetime opportunities?

Since the age of eleven, Akira has been forced to go on all sorts of different quests ranging from petty things such as being an over glorified uber eats for a god or something like preventing a war between two different monsters. Now it was a war.

A war that could be easily prevented if the gods or even some of the camp managers and leaders just opened their eyes and look. Akira would know. He was the son of a minor goddess after all, a mother who never bothered to claim him and a camp that force him into a cramped cabin of a god who is “so kind and merciful to let someone like him inside.”

Children of minor gods are usually one that can live in the outside world without major trouble. Apparently their scent is thinner and are less appealing than children of major goddesses such as his bunkmate Ryuji, child of Hermes and sweet Ann from Aprohidites. They are his best friend and he does not envy them at all. Both Ryuji and Ann has been through s much trouble because of their parent lineage. Left alone to single parents and their own human trouble combined with their demigods' trouble. He would do anything for them. Still, it would be nice to have someone to call as family. The only reason Akira even found out about his parentage is because of Goro.

Goro.

Goro had high expectation placed under him. As the son of Zeus it was expected. But he was never chosen to be in any important quest and spend most of his time training or in his cabin. Goro was one of the first people Akira met when he first came to camp. According to gossip, Goro has been in camp since the age of seven after his mother killed himself, overpressed by the idea of raising a child of god and especially after how lord Zeus practically left the two on their own. Goro was a loner on the outside and very bitter on the inside. When Akira got his first quest a month later, Goro practically ignored him. It was heartbreaking for the eleven year old for his new friend or at least someone he consider his friend to suddenly hate him.

He really wanted to go to the outside world with him but instead went with Ryuji and Ann. When he came back, bruised and bloodied, filled with new fears and deep hatred for salt water. He hoped his time away would have let his friend cool down enough for them to talk again but as soon as Akira laid eyes on the other the boy ran straight for his cabin. It wasn’t long until Akira got his first fetch quest. This time with Yusuke, son of Apollo and Futaba the quirky daughter of Hephaestus. It was a strange team, filled with dumb fights and hiding in the bathroom but it was successful.

Goro still won’t talk to him. Instead he ended up with two Ares girls on his twelfth birthday.

It was after this quest when he was finally given a small break. At this point he was desperate. He was tired,scared and most of all he wanted his friend back. So once he was left alone after dinner, he dragged Goro by the arm from the archery ring and into the Zeus cabin.

“We need to talk.”

They talked and talked and talked way past curfew, maybe they could have reconnect months ago. If only Akira was given a chance to settle down. But now he did.

It was Goro that figured out who his parent was, Goro always did say that whenever he was around Akira he always felt safe, at home. Other people told him that too. Even Akira felt the sense of family whenever he’s with his friends.

They hit the book soon after and came up with an answer.

Epione, the goddess of soothing pain.

Akira’s power seems to work with mental pain and after going on a quest with Goro and Hifumi, he can soothe small physical pain. Anything bigger than a small knife wound would leave him passed out on the ground. But it was better than any ambrosia or nectar, it was a rewarded feeling and an especially tiring one.

It made the quest after a lot easier.

Everything breaks down around the age of fifteen, it was quiet and sudden. Akira knew of camp deserters, they all did. It is often talked about in late night horror stories. Akira may have made one or two up on his own as well. But there has been an increase in unrest between the minor god and goddess children.

“The gods are using you as their playthings aren’t they?” Ten year old Nozoki told him one day. “How long can you keep winding yourself until you break?”

He still hasn't told anyone of his talk with the gods, yet.

It was after that day that people started leaving the camp in groups.

Yukki

Nozoki

And Goro.

The older boy didn’t even say goodbye.

Was it something Akira has done?

Their last talk was another late night one. This time hanging out on the roof of Goro’s cabin. They were talking about school. Akechi was close to finishing high school and Akira was on his way to his last year. When Akechi asked of his future plans, Akira hesitated. Was there a future for him? Akira never thought he would make it this long, even then, he did not have the time to develop any hobbies or focus on school work compared to his peers. Who cared about school when the world was ending.

Maybe it was his defeated tone, he hated it at first he really did. But now Akira just accepts it as another part of life. Demigods don’t get to live long, everyone knows that, that’s why the camp was created in the first place to provide children a safe place to live and to teach them to survive. Akira who's been in and out of the camp in almost all of his teen years has a higher chance of an early death compared to his friends.

“What if everything change.” Goro talked in a low and deep voice. A tone Akira rarely hear outside of anger and battle. He must be serious. “What if we had a chance to go out into the world without any fear of getting killed or being forced by the gods to do whatever they want.”

“That’s a dangerous thought you have there.” He replied.

“Humor me Akira.”

“Well,” What kind of answers would satisfy Goro. He honestly never really bothered to even spend time daydreaming about this. What are somethings the seasonal campers talk about during dinner time?

“I think I want to go somewhere populated.”

“Somewhere populated, Kurusu-kun?”

He nodded. “Yeah like the scramble or Kyoto, maybe even destinyland.”

“Those are tourist traps Kurusu-kun.” Goro replied wirily.

“So? What I want my wallet to get tricked by the many faces of capitalism. Aren’t they places of memories. I don't mind spending my whole day in these places. It seems like fun.”

“You know, I expected someone like you to want something more dramatic. For someone who always lives in the danger zone.”

He shrugged. “Normal is Ok, I think I would like to be that mysterious man behind the bar.”

Goro actually snorted at that. “Are you even able to stay in one place for that long?”

Ok, so maybe Goro has a point. There no why he can stay in one place for so long. But if he gets to meet new people everyday it sure to be just as fun.

“-beside, I can’t see you handling alcohol.”

“Geez Goro, way to crush my dreams. I was thinking of running some kind of underground coffee bar. “

“An underground coffee bar. That sounds like you. I think I might have isted everyday.”

“Oh? A loyal customer ? Thank you for your patronage, good sir.”

“You’re very welcomed overworked barista.”

They sighed.

“Goro is everything OK?| He finally asked. “What you have been saying lately has me worried. You know the people upstairs can hear everything here right?”

“Of course, please do not worry about me Akira-kun, I’m sure you already have lots on your plate right now.”

“But I always have space in my heart for you. Please ‘kechi, I won’t tell anyone no matter what you tell me. On my life.”

“You really shouldn’t be putting your life on the line so easily.” Goro mumbled, mostly to himself but Akira heard it all anyway.

“It’s all part of the job.” He chirp back.

The next day he was gone.

A traitor everyone called him, someone who abandoned the gods to join the wrong side historically and morally. It did not take long for the rumors to start around camp.

“I’ve always knew he was evil.”

“He was always acting so creepy around Akira I wonder if he was ever planning on killing him.”

“It’s good that he left, who knows what he would’ve done if he stayed. “

It was getting harder and harder to face each day with a smile without Goro. His other friends at least one that has yet to publicly disowned Goro stayed by his side comforting him telling him that everything is alright.

But war, war is coming and Akira is expected to be in the front line as a leader. He can’t. He does not want to do this any more. Oh godly parent please give him a sign.

But nothing came.

Nothing but ruin for Tokyo.

They were

Winning

Losing

Dying

...fighting.

They were fighting for their life, each of his friends split up into different groups to try and take back different parts of the city.

Akira was tasked to find the leader of the resistance and to put an end to it once and for all, a fitting task for the hero.

It did not take long to find him, he was exactly where Akira expected him to be and exactly where Goro wanted him to be at.

“Goro,” He mumbled, approaching his enemy with his dagger clutched in his hand tightly. “I came to stop you.”

Goro turned around to face him. Instead of the camp t-shirt and ripped jeans that Akira normally sees him in. He was instead wearing a leather jacket and a collared shirt underneath his regular jeans. It was a strange combination but Akira can’t help but to think it suits Goro well.

“I’m happy you came.”

“This is our meeting place after all.”

Enough with the banter, Akira can’t afford to stall now, not when everyone is fighting for their lives.

“Goro, surrender now. I can get the gods to put you on probation or something bu-”

“You know that’s not true. Do you really think that will pay attention to a mortal even someone like you, since when have they done anything for you.”

“I-”

“Think Akira.” Goro shouted, holding on to his shoulder for dear life. “You’ve been used over and over again. We were just kids. You don’t even have a childhood doesn’t that upset you?”

It did, it still does but Goro knows that he does not like to think about that.

“I used to be so scared.” Goro’s volume went down all the way to a whisper as if talking about this of all things would finally get him stuck down by lightning. “Everytime you come home your eyes would grow darker and darker. I used to have nightmares that the darkness would eat you alive. The trauma you endured. As a son of one of the big three it should have been me.”

Akira shook his head vigorously, he could even feel some of the hair strand stabbing his eyes. It burns a bit, but that’s not important.

“No Goro! I would never wish this life on anyone. The quest, the glory. It’s not worth it! I wanted you to be safe and happy but you ignored me.”

“I know.” Goro’s hand slowly trailed down until they came right above his waist putting the two in some sort of half hug position. “I’m sorry Akira.”

Akira swallowed back a sob threatening to come out. His dagger was right there and Goro was so close and vulnerable. He could end this, he can stop this war once and for all.

“Goro please, end this war. That way everything will go back to normal.”

“You know that’s not what’s going to happen. The gods will use you again and again until you one day burn out and they choose the next unlucky kid to be the hero.” Goro paused. “Akira...why don’t you join me.”

“Hu-”

“Lots of our men need healing. With your powers you can save them! Your mother may not recognize you but we do. We can stop this cycle and give everyone a better future. We would no longer live in fear or worried over someone’s temper tantrum. Akira, I know I haven’t been a good friend to you but I can make it all up now so please.”

Goro reached out his hand and dropped his weapon.

“Join me.”

Akira dropped his dagger as well.

He knows this isn’t the right choice, if they were to fail both Akira and Goro would face harsh unimaginable punishment. But Goro along with everything he ever wanted was right there.

Akira reached out his own hands and-

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: Character Headcanons prt2: The Boys ™️"

Heracles:

He is literally the 2nd strongest individual in all of Greece. The first is Atlas and the 3rd is Dionysus.

Every single thing that has happened to him is canon. The labors, the romantic nights of crossdressing when he was a slave, everything. He doesn't give a flying fuck about what you think he did. There is a likely chance he may have done it, whether he wanted to or not.

He's the tallest and most heavily built of Zeus children. It continues to baffle Hera and Zeus how Heracles is so large. When he started to grow olders, Zeus was worried if Heracles was the "prodigal usurper" that would over throw him, but solved this by having more children.

Heracles doesn't have any weaknesses nor fears. This effectively makes him the biggest threat to.... literally every other devine entity.

He doesn't hate Hera. Oddly enough he is fully aware of her frustrating marriage, so as penance, he tries everything to help her with whatever ever meaningless task she wants him to do. He basically is an unwanted adopted son to her. On Hera's side, she despises him, and she equally hates the fact that he's even alive, but it breaks her heart everytime Heracles does something nice for her.

After years of enduring cruelty, he still doesn't hold a lot of ill will. It's just a part of his strength.

Inspite of his polite and stern demeanor he actually does have a short fuse, he just chooses when it would be inappropriate time to lose his temper.

He has been married 1 1/2 times. His first marriage was rather normal until Hera ruined it, he was "pretend" married to Queen Omphales when they were doing their thing, and is currently married to Hebe.

He's actually a big softy, when he smiles it's considered as rare as a blue harvest moon, it's just that his face is so muscular that his default expression is "resting death face".

He actually enjoys hanging out with his more powerful siblings with the main exception of Ares and Aphrodite. He considers Ares to be "too immature to fight him" and he's too much of a legendary dude bro to fuck Aphrodite, he just wants love not fuck.

He can be bashful at times, mostly when he is told to either display himself or flaunt. He became bashful after his year of slavery with Omphales. It was more of a time of discovering he genuinely may have some deepseeded issues and Omphales helped him out figure out his insecurities.

Perseus:

He's considered Zeus's favorite demi-child. Mostly because Zeus considers him a "little earthly version of Apollo". Perseus however dispises this comparison.

He's currently in his mid 30s, yet he's still concerned the greatest hero in all of Greece. In some arguments he's always compared to Heracles, much like how one would compare Superman and Batman.

If he had a voice actor, it would be William Defoe. He's gives off this vibe of an old school kind of man with a side of chill.

He isn't too proud of his status as a demigod. It all started when he had to kill Medusa. The thing is that Medusa was the more prettier sister of the three legendary Gorgons however she was also considered the kindest out of the three. So when he kept being pressured by not just the fact that he had to save his mother from the marriage she did not want, save Andromeda from a sea monster that was being sent to kill her, and extra pressure from the gods too reclaim his honor as the son of Zeus... He had to basically do something he really did not want. Little did he know at the time, there were other means to be successful in his mission, years later when he discovered this he had become disillusioned with the glorious image of being a demigod. This ended up affecting him personally, affecting his marriage and ultimately a motivation to continue his quest to be a hero for the sake of helping those who need it most...not for glory.

He has this charming tooth gap that he's had since he was young. It's a distinguishing feature that basically separates him from being compared aesthetically to Apollo. He's also has a little stubble, riddled with small scars and abrasions from his many battles.

He with do a background check on you and your request, he has had plenty of experience with people trying to take advantage of him. Being a man who is willing to do the job correctly and as best as possible, people tend to hire him in order to give rid of whatever creature is just mildly inconveniencing them.. a good example would be if a farmer notices there's a griffin nearby but the Griffin isn't doing anything so he hires Perseus to kill the Griffin so it doesn't kill the goats, Perseus will find every way to either remove the Griffin from location or the farmer himself. He tries nearly everything to make sure he doesn't end up killing anything in the end, ironically this is what makes him an effective hero.

He's currently divorced with andromeda, due to his own personal and our struggles it's affected his love life to an extent where he is considered emotionally distant or just uninterested in being married. he doesn't have any infidelity issues or anything he just genuinely lost his motivation as a person but regained the motivation to be a better hero. Turns out Andromeda was the one who was cheating on him, he doesn't have any ill will against her surprisingly and he can't blame her either.

He has a 5 year old daughter who lives with lives with Andromeda. He always finds a way to secretly stop by to say hi and give her a gift.

The only person he tolerates from Olympus is Hermes, he still seems to see him more as a mentor and older brother than anything. He has a more professional relationship with Athena but after the conflicting information both her and Poseidon gave him when he had to kill Medusa, he tends to be very cold to both gods.

You actually never had ambrosia until Heracles introduced it to him, that was the day when he was deemed a full strength demigod. He's still angry at that because he wanted to die in peace of old age or in battle. It's the only thing Heracles is genuinely remorseful for.

He actually sees Pegasus less like a pet and more like a really oddly shaped brother. Turns out after he dug further into the situation, he found out that technically Pegasus is a half brother. so he just has full blown conversations with a creature that can't respond to him in human language, nobody really understood it at first until he explained it to Heracles and only Heracles.. because he loves being spiteful that way.

Theseus:

This is although equally as handsome as many of Zeus's sons, he's probably the least intelligent. It's even argued that he's actually less intelligent than Ares.

He's a complete himbo, outside of his lack of intelligence, he's also extremely vain. Both Perseus and Heracles theorize that if it wasn't for the promise of marrying minos's daughter, he probably wouldn't have helped in the first place.

In between heracles, perseus, and the rest of Zeus's sons, he's the second shortest. The shortest is Hermes. Hermes continues to be any perpetual cycle of distress and mild apathy because of this.

He's also the top person on Dionysus's hit list. For abandoning Ariadne, Dionysus cursed him to consistently get attacked by random animals.. specifically leopards and or animals of the felide family. Theseus still hasn't any idea that his lack of animal magnetism is actually a curse.

He genuinely does not know Ariadne is still alive, he's convinced himself that she abandoned him or just went back home for some bizarre reason. It's also never occurred to him that he may have accidentally left her on an island, it is not known rather or not he actually abandoned her on purpose or just because of unbridled ignorance.

He's surprisingly resourceful for somebody who couldn't figure out how to get through the labyrinths correctly the first time, he actually took one turn before he went directly back to the entrance and tried his best to go any deeper but still went back to the entrance. His resourcefulness may come from Poseidon's side of the gene pool.

Ironically, Zeus actually has no idea if this one is even his kid. There's an ongoing rumor amongst the Olympians that Poseidon and Zeus may have accidentally slept with the same woman, unfortunately it is not known rather or not Theseus it really is Zeus's or Poseidon's son. The two brothers rather not fight over this because it really doesn't matter in the end.

Due to Theseus's self-righteous arrogance, many of his ventures usually results in his god-given resourcefulness helping him out. Most of his success is attributed to either giving himself all the credits or simply assuming that he actually did something. this angers Perseus and Heracles quite a lot actually. And oddly enough unlike the two, Theseus never actually had to do anything above simply appearing and "solving the problem". His most iconic triumph right next to killing the Minotaur, was actually slaughtering a few Amazons. Ares is till this day trying to formulate the worst and most painful way to kill Theseus.

He's actually a bit of a coward.

He maybe currently king of Athens, but mostly because Athena directly influences him from time to time. Apparently he doesn't have the mental fortitude to resist Athena's control. Good for her because he isn't a really good ruler.

Achilles:

He's the sturdy brother. Prior to his injuries, he actually was similar to Ares but he was a little more clever. He was the best warrior in his army and he was the assisting tactician.

Post injuries, he has lost an eye, Perseus had to amputate his messed up leg thus he had a prosthetic foot made by Hephaestus, and he two more mental injuries. PTSD from his battle at Troy and the brain damage from an arrow that went through his eye.

Because of his brain damage, he can speak in incomplete sentences. He also has outbursts of wrath and acts out his battles. When he's speaking in full sentences, he's going through a thing where he genuinely believes he's back to his old life, going as far as referring to anyone around him as people he use to know, this actually maybe a side effect of his ptsd. Heracles and Perseus are aware of these quirks of his and does their best to make it less problematic for Achilles.

It's been century since the downfall of Troy, after somehow surviving the process of death through means that even he can't remember, Achilles seems to be immortal in both senses of the word. He neither aged since the downfall of Troy and it doesn't seem that he died from his wounds like he should have. Because of his prolonged existence in the underworld, he has also gained the ability to see ghosts, unfortunately the others think he's just simply talking with "the ghost of his past" and think nothing else of it.

Hades actually wasn't aware of Achilles's existence in the underworld until many of the residents started complaining of disappearances. After some thorough investigations, Hades found him basically living feral in the more isolated portion of the underworld where it seems he was surviving off the flesh of anything that would come across his path. At first Hades tried to help him pass on, but Achilles had other plans so he battled Hades instead and survived. Hades may have won but he has a large scar on the base of thigh from his encounter.

His invulnerability didn't actually come from his mother dipping him in the river Styx, or at least that wasn't fully the way he could have became invulnerable. One actually has to consume a little bit of the River to become fully invulnerable. When Achilles was a child, he was just merely dipped in it thus it gave him invulnerability until his skin was broken by the arrows, when he found himself in the underworld, he couldn't find any fresh water so he drank from the Styx instead. That is when he became fully invincible to the point of godhood. Now he's arguably even more indestructible than Ares.

Achilles actually seems to be have been completely hardwired differently after his experience. He isn't a genius, but he does seem to find solutions to things in unexplained ways.

He sees Perseus and Heracles as proxy soldiers and brothers-at-arms instead of biological half brothers. Never having any knowledge of them until they rescued him from the underworld.

He REALLY doesn't like Poseidon and Ares, the interesting part is that he doesn't understand why. It's as if he can't remember why he hated them so much, he has a passing apathy twords Apollo. He also doesn't understand why occasionally Apollo stares him down like an angry dog, infact Apollo never really elaborated on the fact that it was Achilles who desecrated his Temple back at Troy. Many of the gods actually don't fully understand what is going on with Achilles with the exceptions of Hermes, Ares and Dionysus. Since all three gods understand how mortals physically work, they can sympathize with him. However, every time when Ares interacts with Achilles, it always seems to look like someone put two male honey badgers in the same room with a shiv and a pocket knife tied to their heads when they're done fight.

He's likes horses, he actually tries to talk to them like as if it was his fellow soldiers. In reality, many horses he talks to are actually reincarnated warriors from various parts of Greece. some have no memories of their past lives, and some are fully aware that they've been reborn into a completely different life. In some bizarre senses Achilles accidentally may have coined the idea that horses are just reincarnated soldiers who died in battle. Strangely enough it's the only set of individuals he has fully constructed conversations with instead of just incomplete sentences perfectly summarizing his thoughts.

Achilles knows how to use almost every single weapon you can give him and for some reason he can learn how to use a new weapon that he's never seen before in just a matter of minutes. This is because he apparently has really good muscle memory and half of the time he just accomplishes so many interesting things because of it.

He genuinely enjoys watching Hephaestus and hangout with him in his workshop. He likes the dimly lit but warm workshop, he find it far more comfortable than the cold and damp cavern he'd stayed in after he "died".

No one is certain how he even survived to begin with. Some of the rumors that have stemmed from this situation say a Fury took him in out of pitty and nursed him back to moderate health, to Eris being responsible for his survival.

He's surprisingly stubborn for somebody who may have lost 10% of his brain function, memory, and who consistently goes through War flashbacks much like an old veteran would. At this point basically he has the physical strength and energy of somebody in his mid-twenties but the demeanor and temperament of somebody in their late eighties. The only way you can coax him to do anything is to simply trade with him. This could be either new weaponry for him to practice with, or just a snack.

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 36

84,000 words later....

I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.

Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3

Xx -Alpaca

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump

CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.

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

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS

Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

                              - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.

         Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.

         “I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.

         They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.

         He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.

         “This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”

         “Paimon.”

         Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”

         The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.

         Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.

         “I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.

         Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.

         “You are correct. You are going into this one.”

         The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.

         “This is an abuse of power!”

         “An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”

         Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.

         “If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.

         Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.

         “I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”

         Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.

         “I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”

         Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.

         “Dad?”

 ---------------------------------

         “Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”

         “It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”

         “My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”

         Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.

         “No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”

         Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.

         Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”

         Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.

         “Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”

         Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.

         “Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.

         Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.

         “What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"

         Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.

         “When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”

         “No.”

         “Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”

         “No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”

         “Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”

         He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.

         Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.

         “My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”

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

         “Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”

         Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.

         “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”

         Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.

         “Where are all my clothes?!”

         DING DONG

         “Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”

         Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.

         DING DING DING DING DING DONG!

         Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.

         It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.

         “Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”

         Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.

         “Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”

         “My birthday?” Arch said. “It’s… It’s August? Thirteenth?”

‘Me, my, oh, what a life So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’

         “Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.

‘So, thank you!

For coming to my birthday party!

I am one minute old today

And everything is going great-’

Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.

“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.

“I… forgot how.”

Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.

“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”

“What?”

Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.

“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”

He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.

“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”

How did the air get so thick?

“And I have missed you… so much.”

Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.

“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”

Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.

Arch took a deep breath of relief.

“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”

Arch scrunched their face.

“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”

“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.

“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked. 

Arch nodded.

“Then get out.”

There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.

Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.

“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.

Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.

“I… I think I was just kicked out.”

Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both. 

Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.

That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.

And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.

“Anyways, you said something about smoking up?”

[anothermcytblog]

Of Sisyphus, Of Orpheus

Style: One Shot Word Count: 1202  CW: Ranboo hallucinates Dream again! Though I think that’s it.

Summary: You glance back at Philza and suddenly you can only see Sisyphus. // You look back at Ghostbur for a moment and wonder what he would look like alive and with a lyre. // You look at your reflection in a piece of broken glass and you mourn for Cassandra.

The snow fell slowly as you looked out the window of Technos’ and Phils’ cottage. The world outside is quiet, calmer than you are used to. New L’manberg was loud, fighting an ongoing war with no victory in sight regardless of their effort. (Just like a clock, always ticking in an endless cycle- doomed to repeat past mistakes until the clock breaks.) Here, however, is quiet- the calm after a storm. You’re drained after today, though who wouldn’t be? (“ Do you even deserve to feel this way, Ranboo?” Dream whispers to you, fingers wrapping around your neck just barely squeezing down, “You didn’t even fight, all you did was watch”.)  You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You look out the window once more and you think of Phil, of Sisyphus.

 --

“Sisyphus?” You ask Techno, having walked in on him reading an old looking book simply titled ‘Sisyphus.’

“Doomed to push a boulder up a hill for all of eternity after cheating death twice,” He tells you, elaborating when you make an interested noise, “Originally, he was the king of Corinth and was known for his trickery and intellect. Like all men, Sisyphus eventually died. However, Sisyphus had tricked Thanatos and chained the god of death up- effectively making everyone immortal until Ares freed Thanatos.” You nod along, having moved to sit on the floor in front of Techno as you listen to his story, “The second time he cheated death was when he tricked Hades wife, Persephone, into taking him back to the Overworld so she could do the ‘proper’ rituals. His final death, however,” Techno says, leaning back on his chair, “Was one he could not escape. Zeus himself intervened, cursing Sisyphus to push a boulder uphill and having the boulder fall back before it reaches the top. Cursed to make sure mortals aren’t encouraged by his behavior.” 

You nod, eyes wide in almost amazement. It is interesting, hearing about old Mythos you missed out on living in… Where did you live? You blink for a moment, shaking your head for a second to clear your thoughts before hesitantly speaking, “Sisyphus reminds you of someone,” You say, speaking slowly- trying to make sure your thoughts are clear and inoffensive- “The way you talk about him… it sounds like you’re talking about someone else.” 

Techno pauses for a second, eyes wide and caught off guard for a second before he returns to his neutral state, an almost smile of pride on his face. He doesn’t verbally respond, rather instead he glances out the window and you follow his gaze until you land on Phil. You’ve only heard bits and pieces about what happened before you arrived, mostly from Ghostbur so it isn’t exactly reliable but you wrack your brain, trying to figure out where the lines cross at this moment until it suddenly hits you like a train. Philza, forced to kill his middle son moments after joining. Philza, known for cheating death in worlds where the world is much crueler and you only have one life before you’re done. Philza, who time and time again has been moments away from finally reaching peace before it's ripped from him again. You look at Techno who only gives you a subtle, easily missable, nod.

You glance back at Philza and suddenly you can only see Sisyphus.

--

You blink, suddenly standing in the freezing cold in front of the nether portal. You don’t know how you got here, shivering from the snow falling around you- the dull ache of it melting on your skin hardly registering. Were you going to the nether? Why would you go there? You reach for your memory book only to find it missing from its normal spot, panic quickly spiking your heart as your lungs constrict and- and you can hardly breathe.  (“Again?” Dream whispers to you, tightening his grip on you, “Ranboo now come on, surely you can’t be this pathetic? Not even a day since the massacre and you’re already like this when you didn’t even do anything worthy of this feeling?”) Your hands tighten and- oh, it was already in your hand. You blankly stare at it for a moment, slowly calming down. You open the book, flipping to the recent page and all you have written is ‘Remember.’

You look at the nether portal again and you think of Ghostbur, of Wilbur, of Orpheus. 

 --

Techno actually asks you if you want to hear another myth a couple of days later- Phil laughing quietly in the background as he trades with villagers. You nod, already getting comfortable on the floor as you give Techno your full attention, “Let’s see…” He thinks for a moment, his eyes wandering until he lands on Ghostbur a couple of feet outside of the village, showing Friend around, “Let’s do Orpheus.” 

“Orpheus was, at least rumored to be, the son of Apollo and the muse Calliope,” Techno begins, “He was an amazing musician and in some myths, he also had a divine voice that could charm anyone. When he was a boy, he was gifted a lyre and some say even the gods couldn’t resist listening to him speak and play. As he grew up and mastered his gift so not even immovable objects were immune to his voice, his eyes landed on Eurydice and they fell in love instantly, getting married even when the hymn warned them the perfection won’t last. It gets a little murky here but when Eurydice was dancing with nymphs, she was bitten by a snake and died. Grief-stricken, Orpheus descends to the Underworld to plead with Hades and Persephone for Eurydice to return to the living world. Playing his lyre, not even the god of the dead could deny his grief. Making a deal, Hades told Orpheus that all Orpheus needed to do was lead Eurydice to the Overworld without looking behind him, to not look until they were in the sunlight. Orpheus, however, paranoid and doubtful turned around mere steps from success. He failed and Eurydice stayed dead. In his despair, he laid on a rock until a group of women killed him- not even putting up a fight.” 

You look back at Ghostbur for a moment and wonder what he would look like alive and with a lyre.

--

You blink again and you’re standing at the crater of New L’manberg. (“Cassandra,” Dream purrs in your ear, bowing a bit as he holds out his hand for you to take, sunlight streaming from him as a lyre rests on his back and rocks lay beside his feet, “You couldn’t save Troy, how can you save yourself? Are you even worthy of being saved? Come to the Greeks and meet your fate already.”) It’s ruined, glass and withered wood lay everywhere- some places even still burning. Every step you take is dangerous, the ground beneath you unstable and you wonder if this was what Cassandra saw when the Greeks invaded. The once-powerful nation of Troy now rubble.

You look at your reflection in a piece of broken glass and you mourn for Cassandra.

 (Dream cackles next to you as your breath quickens. The sunlight burning your skin as you think of Apollo.) 

[thaliagrayce]

The Innocent Can Never Last

here’s the ao3 link if you wanna stop by!

Her roots were just barely starting to show. She leaned over the shitty drugstore pocket mirror she had propped against the windowsill above her sleeping bag and pulled some of her short hair straight up, squinting at the half centimeter of blond that had crept up underneath the black. She would have to dye it again soon, but it was almost a miracle that it was only half a centimeter. Her hair used to grow a lot faster, before she was a tree.

Whatever. Maybe this meant it was time to finally get that buzz cut she’d always wanted; she would have enough time enough to enjoy the way the short dark hair looked on her head before it grew out blond again. For now, though, all she did was ruffle her hand through it to cover the blond as well as she could and made sure her eyeliner was properly smudged before getting out of her makeshift bed.

She ignored the haphazard stack of orange t-shirts piled next to her duffel bag that some Hermes camper had brought her the first week she’d been there. Changing in the middle of the day felt kinda stupid, but it meant that she’d already checked off her Camp Spirit for the day. Nobody could tell her to change. Today was a black tank top kind of day, anyway. The last thing she grabbed before leaving was the dark blue UC Berkeley drawstring bag she’d kept with her on the road, torn in a few places and with half the yellow logo faded to illegibility. Its contents clanked as she threw it over her shoulder and pushed the door open.

The late afternoon heat of July hit her without mercy as soon as she opened the cabin door, and she had to screw her eyes shut against the force of the sunlight. It felt like a completely different world out here, with kids yelling to each other from across the basketball courts and chasing each other around with swords and screaming when they fell off the climbing wall. The inside of the Zeus cabin must have been soundproofed, because it always felt so cut off from the rest of camp—you couldn’t hear anything but the rumble of thunder from in those walls. Maybe Zeus just didn’t like sharing the spotlight.

Changing into a black shirt started to sound like a bad idea in retrospect halfway to the infirmary, but she didn’t let that deter her. She’d worn nothing but hospital gowns and orange shirts since she woke up two weeks ago, and stupid heat and sunlight wouldn’t ruin her first day of freedom.

Some son of Apollo she recognized was leaving the infirmary just as she got to the door. She nodded at him, trying and failing to remember his name. There were so many people here. She hadn’t really had to learn anyone’s name in years—not anyone that mattered, anyway—and now she was presented with at least five new people every day.

And they all wore orange. She’d had an almost constant headache from all the color when she first woke up, which really didn’t help her memory or attention span.

The infirmary was almost empty when she got there, just a couple campers tidying up. Two sharp raps to the doorframe drew their attention to her.

“Fletcher. You got the goods?”

Lee Fletcher was the eldest camper in the room, a skinny dark-skinned boy with dreads tied back in a ponytail and a smile sunny enough to announce his parentage without need to be claimed. He was one of the only people whose name Thalia had actually learned since she woke up. He had been the one in charge of monitoring Thalia during the week that she’d spent stuck in the infirmary, and she was still trying to figure out how to properly say ‘thank you for keeping me alive and sane even after I punched you in the face’.

“You owe me for this, you know.” Lee grinned at her and held up one finger in a ‘one second’ gesture, then jogged to his bag in the corner. While he shuffled around in it, Thalia shrugged her bag off her shoulders.

“I had to cash in a favor with Travis Stoll for this. You know how much those are worth?”

“He’s one of the Hermes ones, right?” Thalia stepped into the room and leaned against the wall. “Just tell him it was for me, then he’ll have something on the new kid. You’ll be fine.”

“Here we go!” He straightened up and crossed the room to her, holding out a smuggled CD case. “Brand new, pristine condition. Come back to me when you realize Nimrod is child’s play.”

She took the case and immediately wanted the album art on a pin to add to her jacket—a white hand holding on to a red heart-shaped grenade. Nice. She wouldn’t admit that to Lee yet, though.

“Come on. You’ve heard Nimrod, right? How can you be so confident I’m gonna like this one more?”

“Because Good Riddance is the only song worth remembering on the entire album. Just trust me, American Idiot is gonna blow you away.”

She smirked at him and shoved the CD into her bag. “We’ll see about that. Thanks for getting this for me.”

“No problem. Once you’re done with that, I’m gonna introduce you to My Chemical Romance” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall next to her, sighing with a bittersweet smile. “It’s just nice to have someone else around who has good taste in music again.”

The since Luke left went unsaid, but hung like a summer thunderstorm in the silence after his words. Thalia looked down at her hands, at the few freckles dotting her knuckles and fresh black nail polish she and Annabeth had applied together yesterday. The two of them had spent an hour sitting together like that, painting each other’s nails while Annabeth quizzed Thalia about important global events that had happened while she was out and people she should probably know going forward. It wasn’t hard to imagine him here with them if she thought about it, which is why she didn’t let herself think about it.

Life was simpler when she was a tree.

Lee cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms, tapping the wall behind him twice before pushing off of it. “I, uh, gotta get back to work. You think you’ll start listening before dinner?”

She looked up at him and smiled, but even she could tell it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh yeah. I’ll have a full analysis double-spaced and printed for you by six.” Lee huffed a laugh, and she considered that to be a step forward. Awkward atmosphere who? She could have more than two friends.

“Good. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.”

She sent a wave over her shoulder as she stepped out and made a mental note to talk to him about the album tomorrow. She liked Lee. She wanted to be his friend and was determined to put in the work to make sure that happened, but she wasn’t going to be at dinner tonight. There were more important things on her agenda than team dinner.

The sun was hanging a little closer to the horizon now; not close to sunset yet, but the heat had lost its intensity. She had to get a move on.

Campers stared at her when she was out and about sometimes, which really wasn’t her favorite thing. She’d had enough unwanted attention from the public to last a few lifetimes already. Usually people cared about the other parent, though. The Hephaestus kid coming out of the forge probably didn’t even know who Beryl Grace was, let alone see her wide blue eyes and signature smile on Thalia’s face.

It wasn’t much better, but at least being a child of Zeus came with power. The stare she got now wasn’t just curiosity, it was respect.

She stared down the Hephaestus kid as she walked past, and they had the decency to look embarrassed about staring. Good.

She got halfway to the dining pavilion before she was interrupted again.

“Thalia!”

Annabeth was taller than her now, which didn’t feel like something that should be allowed. When she bounded over to Thalia, all smiles and curls and bright orange t-shirt, Thalia actually had to look up to meet her eyes.  It was strange. She had started to think of Annabeth as a little sister somewhere along the road, and when she woke up again, she realized she had missed—six? Seven?—years of Annabeth’s life. That hit her harder than any years of her own life she had missed. As far as Thalia was concerned, she had died at age twelve and been resurrected at age fifteen and that was that.

But Annabeth was tall now, and smiling at her. Thalia smiled back, real despite the mood she had slipped into since leaving Lee. It wasn’t hard.

“Annabeth! How you doing? Where’s Percy?” The boy was usually two steps behind Annabeth, or she was two steps behind him, and they were usually bickering loud enough for half the camp to be able to make an informed decision on whose side they would take if asked.

Annabeth made a face at his name, but she also blushed a bit. Thalia bit back her smirk. The kid tried, but she couldn’t hide her true emotions for anything. She liked to pretend she didn’t drag him around everywhere, but Thalia had only been back for two weeks and it was already a little weird to not see them together.

“I don’t know, doing Percy things? We’re not attached at the hip, you know.” She flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and Thalia watched it bounce.

That was another thing. Her hair was long now. The day after Thalia woke up, Annabeth had come to sit with her in the infirmary, just to be with her for a while and drink in each other’s presence. Thalia had reached out a hand and touched one of her curls, tugging it a little and watching it bounce back to join the rest. When she had looked at Annabeth’s face again, she had tears in her eyes and a wobbly smile on her mouth.

“It suits you,” Thalia had said. It was true. Annabeth looked so much happier now, so much more confident. She looked as proud as Thalia felt.

Now, tan and tall and comfortable enough to be blushing in the sunlight, it was clear that this place had become her home in the years Thalia had been gone. For a moment, she was hit with how much she had missed.

“We should get our ears pierced together.”

Annabeth blinked at her in surprise. She might have been talking while Thalia wandered into nostalgialand.

“But you already have pierced ears.”

Of course she had pierced ears, she’d grown up with a famous mother who cared more about her baby’s image than the person behind it. Thalia had pierced ears since before she could talk. She also remembered Annabeth being transfixed by her earrings when she thought Thalia wasn’t looking on the road, though. Thalia had missed seven years and hadn’t been able to support Annabeth through most aspects of her transition, but this was something she could be around for.

“I want a double piercing, we should go together.” Thalia squared her shoulders and crossed her arms, looking at Annabeth with challenge in her eyes. “Unless you’re afraid of needles, of course.”

Annabeth bristled, which was exactly what Thalia had been hoping for.

“I’ve faced fully-grown cyclopes and a boat full of angry monsters and the Lord of the Dead himself. I think I can handle one needle.”

“Good. We can sneak out later this week.”

“Or,” Annabeth corrected, “we could wait for September. Chiron told me to find you, he said he snagged a spot for you at the boarding school I’m going to this fall. It’ll be a lot easier to get into the city from school.”

Thalia immediately felt lighter, like a weight she hadn’t even known was there suddenly lifted from her shoulders. A week ago, Chiron had broken it to her that she probably had to stay at camp all year round because of how strong her aura was. She’d been going to the Big House every morning to train with the Mist, but he made sure her hopes didn’t get too high—she needed to get good good before she would be able to safely leave camp.

“For real? He actually said that?”

“Yep! We won’t be roommates, but we’ll be in the same dorm. It’ll be super easy to find me if something goes wrong.”

That meant less of Annabeth’s life that she had to miss because she was sidelined. More time when she could just exist with her little sister, learn who she had become in Thalia’s absence. Learn who she would grown into.

“Sick, you can help me study. I haven’t been to school since I was like seven.”

Annabeth laughed at that. “Neither have I, this is gonna be an interesting year.”

One of Annabeth’s sisters ran over to get her after that, something about an argument about beach volleyball rules getting a little too heated. Names were called, swords were drawn. That seemed like a pretty common occurrence here, though, so Annabeth hadn’t looked too worried as she hugged Thalia and said goodbye. The sun was dipping a little closer to the setting point, anyway. Thalia was running out of time.

A few dryads were setting up the dining pavilion for dinner by the time she got there. If she didn’t want to be stuck waiting for everyone else, she had to be sneaky about how she got her shit. Luckily for her, living on the streets for your formative years was a pretty good way to learn how to get in and out of a place undetected.

The first trick was knowing exactly what you were going to take before you went in to get it. She skirted around to the back of the pavilion and hid behind a column. The table farthest from her held a huge bowl of peaches—easily bruised but still easily grabbable. Closer by, a dryad with stick-straight brown hair wheeled a big dish that kinda looked like a boat with a cover out on a cart, and Thalia dismissed that immediately. Nothing portable was kept in a container like that—it was probably pasta night, or some kind of soup or something. Unless she wanted to ruin her bag and everything in it, that wasn’t an option.

More than one peach, then. That was fine. There was a big basket of fresh rolls next to the probably-pasta, and they smelled good. She’d had worse meals than fresh bread and peaches before.

The second trick was confidence. If you looked like you knew what you were doing, you were a lot less likely to be stopped while you did it. Thalia waited until the dryad had gone back into the kitchens, then walked out from her hiding spot with her shoulders set and her posture relaxed. Carefully casual. She managed to get to the bread and stick three rolls into her bag without drawing any attention at all.

Walking toward the peaches put her directly in the path of another dryad, though. She was just headed out of the kitchens, carrying a platter of still-steaming brownies. She blinked at Thalia twice, and her green eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“It’s not time to eat yet, what are you doing back here?”

Confidence, she reminded herself.

“I was sent here.” Confident statement, confident tone. She was doing great.

The dryad narrowed her eyes. “Oh, really? By who? Why?”

Maybe confidence only worked if you had the conviction to back it up. She thought briefly about just getting out of there, but then she remembered that she was getting daily lessons in bullshitting other people. This was a harmless enough reason; she was sure the nymph would understand, and Chiron would probably be fine with her practicing at camp.

Probably.

She breathed in through her nose and thought of what the dryad saw: some punk teenager trying to sneak food before dinner. There had been a moment of recognition, though, right before the suspicion set in. She knew who Thalia was.

Thalia waved her hand in the air, disguising it as adjusting one of the straps on her shoulder. She put both breath and intention behind her words, and prayed to her father that it would actually work.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get in your way. I can’t eat with the rest of the campers for medical reasons tonight. I won’t be much of a hassle, I’m just going to grab a peach before the crowd gets here and I can’t leave.”

The dryad blinked. Her eyes went a little hazy, which immediately filled Thalia with equal parts elation and guilt. It had worked, but she had just preyed on this woman’s kindness. The fact that the words were mostly true was a bit of consolation, at least.

“Of course. Take a brownie, too. I hope you feel better soon.”

She felt bad, but not bad enough to not take a brownie. They smelled fantastic.

After that, she had no trouble getting at the peaches and slipping a few of them into her bag. As she walked away, she heard the squeaking of wheels and the clinking of plates—the harpies had come in to set the tables. She’d gotten out just in time.

Now she just had to get across camp without being noticed and pulled in with the dinner rush. Cutting through the middle of the cabins was the most direct route, but it was also guaranteed to get her seen by well-intentioned curious eyes. She eyed the amphitheater. Going around the far end of that would take more time and would take her closer to the magical camp border than she should go, but it was also the most hidden option. It was probably fine. She had her shield, she had a butterfly knife in her pocket. She took the long route.

As she was skirting around the raised seating, a laugh carried up from the stage—someone must have been using it. The laugh stopped her cold, pulse running wild. Her brain knew that it wasn’t Luke, it couldn’t have been Luke, but—

“Cut it out, Trav! I have a reputation!”

There it was again, the laugh. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, ignored the sudden heat behind her eyes. Of course. The Stolls. It really was incredible how similar siblings could be.

“What reputation, dude? You snorted chocolate milk out your nose last week.”

Thalia hiked her bag further up on her shoulder and walked faster. She’d been stupid. Luke wasn’t here, and it would be a serious threat if he was. She knew that.

She still wasn’t sure if her reaction had been happiness, fear, anger, or a fucked up mix of all of them.

Finally, the giant pine peeked out from the other side of the amphitheater. She gave the entrance a wide berth, not wanting to be seen and not wanting to hear anything more. She focused on the silhouette of the tree against the sky.  Even after two full weeks, it felt wrong to look at it from the outside. Like looking down at her hand but not recognizing it as her own.

As she got closer, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d never cared about the scent of pine trees before she’d become one, but now she found herself missing it. She’d technically lived in a pine tree for longer than she’d ever lived almost anywhere else, and her memories of Beryl’s house were both distant and stressful. Cedar, fir, and juniper were the first scents she thought of when she heard the word “home”. Demigod life might be confusing and she might be completely out of the loop, but at least this tree was, too. She could breathe easier as she approached.

The baby dragon that had gotten there earlier that week—Peleus—lifted his head as she got closer, but lowered it again immediately when he saw who it was. The rest of the camp was still pretty uneasy around him, but Thalia didn’t quite get it. He was about the size of a Great Dane and just as affectionate as one, if he trusted you.

He didn’t trust a lot of people yet, though. He knew that Argus was the guy that brought him food and Chiron was the one who clopped away in a funny way if you sneezed fire, so they were okay, but the rest of camp was on thin ice.

He’d never minded Thalia, though. She kind of thought he still recognized her as part of the tree, or maybe he recognized the tree as part of her. Whatever. The dragon loved her, which felt pretty damn good. She patted his head once as she passed his napping spot, and he rumbled something that sounded like a purr but much, much deeper.

She took off her bag and sat heavily on the other side of the trunk, staring out over the forest at the almost-setting sun. In the distance, the conch shell sounded, followed by a loud bang from somewhere around the armory. Probably one of the Hephaestus kids experimenting for the fireworks show. It wouldn’t be for another few days, but camp had been plagued by random crashes and explosions all week. She was getting better at not reacting, getting more used to this camp and all of its eccentricities.

She took the beat-up blue CD player out of her bag, the only relic she still had from her time at home. She’d left Beryl Grace’s house with a duffel bag full of clothes, an entire loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and her trusty CD player. Back then, she only had a Wham! CD that some well-meaning friend of her mother had given her, something that she’d lost somewhere between Montana and Wyoming. The big black over-the-ear headphones that she pulled out next were more recent, but still pretty old by current standards. Luke had stolen them for her from a Radio Shack in Georgia somewhere, as an apology present for some dumb mistake he’d made that day. She couldn’t even remember why she had been mad, but she remembered the way he smiled at her excitement.

She didn’t like dwelling on Luke, but she figured she had one day a year to be sorry for herself. She deserved it. She took the CD Lee had given her out of its case and popped it in the player before bringing out one of the peaches.

The album was good, Lee was right. Better than Nimrod. She let it play as she cut up the peaches with her butterfly knife and ate them, either sliced on top of the bread or just plain. They were juicier than they should have been this early in the summer, but she figured it was probably some bullshit divine magic. Everything here ran on it. She bit into one of the rolls, still warm despite the walk.

So Luke was evil now. That’s what Percy said that first day, at least, and Annabeth had looked too distressed to correct him at the time. She’d gotten defensive since then, put her foot down when the topic came up—which really wasn’t that often, whenever both Annabeth and Thalia were in a room—and made sure everyone knew that Luke was still good. Just misguided.

Thalia had no idea what to think. Some of the stories about him she understood completely. Starting a rebellion against the gods because they were shitty parents? Yeah, that checked. The two of them had done their fair share of griping about the awful hand they’d been dealt when they were on the run, and there was really no way that blame didn’t rest directly on their parents’ shoulders. Her death had probably made that worse for him, and she sincerely felt for him there.

Hurting kids, though? Especially someone who was so close to Annabeth, someone she clearly cared about? That was a little farfetched. Percy seemed like an honest kid, and everyone else she had asked backed him up on the whole scorpion story (and the several subsequent swordfights), but she still couldn’t quite get her heart to believe that Luke had tried to kill this boy when he was twelve. Percy was still shorter than Thalia, and he had this sharp air around him that reminded Thalia of Luke sometimes. He couldn’t do that, right? She knew him. She trusted him. They had been angry on the road, yeah, but they had taken Annabeth in without blinking. That anger was directed entirely at the gods. He wouldn’t try to destroy the one safe place on the planet for kids like them.

She flat-out refused to believe that Luke had poisoned her. Or—if he had, he had poisoned the tree. He thought Thalia was dead, Thalia was supposed to be dead. The tree itself wouldn’t have mattered.

(She didn’t think of the motivation behind poisoning the tree. She couldn’t.)

So some of what she heard had to be bullshit, plain and simple, but…

She’d caught a few people laughing at some of her jokes about him, his harmless quirks and manners of speech, before they caught themselves. They knew him, they’d known him before whatever actually happened went down. Before he became evil or whatever. Some of them had clearly been friends with him—not to the same extent, but still—and they all said he’d done these terrible things. So she didn’t know what to think. They knew him, but maybe they didn’t know him as well as she did.

Then again, maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. People changed. Maybe her best friend became a child murderer.

She wiped the butterfly knife on her pants before she closed it and stuck it in her pocket, done with her peaches and bread. The song that had just started was nice, more mellow and low-key than the rest of the album. It sounded sad, minor chords and a mournful voice, but she hadn’t been paying much attention to the lyrics. She would have to listen to the whole album again before she talked to Lee tomorrow. That was okay, it was good. She would have re-listened to it anyway.

The sun was finally setting for real, and she thunked her head against the trunk of the tree behind her. Whether or not she liked it, whether or not she believed it was Luke, someone had poisoned her tree. Either to get at camp or to get at her specifically, she didn’t know. It would have ended up the same either way. She wasn’t supposed to be awake, she didn’t want to be awake, but here she was. And now, from what Chiron had told her that morning about a prophecy, she was expected to go and kill her best friend on her next birthday.

Welcome back to life, Thalia.

She thought she had died so that Luke, Annabeth, and Grover could be safe, so that they could all have somewhere that would feel like home and protect them from the monsters. Now Annabeth had battle scars all over and Grover had just spent two weeks captive and in terror for his life and Luke had become the monster she was expected to fight and she was still alive, so her sacrifice meant nothing.

She took a shaky breath and felt how much cooler the breeze was against the tracks her tears had made. Tonight wasn’t about Luke. She had to move on. There would be time to think about him later.

For now she paused the music at the end of the slow song, but she kept the bulky headphones on. She knew she was less likely to be disturbed like this, dressed in her ripped-up ratty jeans with her angry eyeliner and big black headphones. ‘Difficult to talk to’ was the exact look she had been going for that afternoon. She moved away from the trunk of the tree, but not far enough that her silhouette would be noticeable to a faraway observer. Still under the wide boughs, still enclosed in comfort. She cleared a circle about a foot wide of any pine needles, thankful that a combination of Peleus and shade meant that grass never successfully grew under the tree.

She took a few tissues from her bag and set them in the center of the circle, smoothing down their edges in an attempt to look nice. It probably wasn’t necessary, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

Gently, she set the brownie she’d gotten from the nymph in the center of the napkins. Then she took out her old electric blue gas station lighter. She was kind of surprised it still had fluid after all these years, but she was grateful for it. Stealing a lighter or matches would have been a lot harder for her than stealing some peaches.

She lit the tissues. As the flames crept closer to the brownie, she prayed.

“Hey, Hades. It’s me. Again.” The tissue burned out completely, but the moist brownie caught fire, so she guessed he had probably heard.

“I know it’s been a few years. Also you tried to kill me, which wasn’t cool and probably means you hate me, but I get it. I guess. You can hate me, that’s fine. I just—” She swallowed, suddenly aware of how hot her eyes had become. She felt a tear fall onto her arm. If Hades was listening, he probably already knew what she was going to say. She’d done this every year, but she needed to say it again. She needed to.

“Please take care of Jason.” She blinked past the wetness in her eyes and watched the fire spread over the brownie in unnatural colors—blue and white, purple and gold. It smelled like it was baking instead of burning. She hoped that Jason could smell it from wherever his little two-year-old soul was down there.

“I know it’s not cake, but you always liked these better anyway. Happy birthday, bud. Miss you.”

The worst thing about waking up so close to July was that she wasn’t used to the years she had skipped yet. She was fifteen and she shouldn’t have been fifteen and it took her a full minute to figure out how old Jason should have been starting today.

Twelve. It would have been his twelfth birthday, had he survived past his second. Had Thalia not left him with their mother. Had she run away a week earlier, towing him along behind her. Would he and Annabeth have been friends? What would he think of Luke? Of Camp Half-Blood?

When she’d made her last stand seven years ago, right here in this spot, her final thoughts hadn’t actually been about protecting Annabeth or Luke or Grover. That was her motivation, yes, but her last thoughts had actually been about her brother. There was no way she would get out of that encounter alive, she knew that. She thought she had known that. The last thing she remembered thinking before she woke up was I hope I get to see Jason again.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the mingling scents of pine and baking brownies. It was July First, and Thalia was allowed to be sad today. She would pull herself together by tomorrow, she always did, but she was allowed to cry tonight.

She opened her eyes and watched the colors as the sun finally dipped to touch the horizon, flames in the sky mirroring the burning brownie in front of her, and mourned for all she had lost.

[wr173r-8l0ck]

What if My Hero Academia Characters were in the Riordanverse pt. 1: Students

Yeah, yeah, this is just MHA students for now, I’ll have other characters soon, okay! Anyway, here’s MHA students of 1A and 1B (including Shinso) as demigods in the Riordanverse!

Yuga Aoyama: Son of Aphrodite. Not even a good one, unless you need someone blinded by his glitter-gun. Oh yeah, he has a glitter gun with lasers for maximum flare. Is he completely over-the-top? Absolutely. But is he good in a fight? Surprisingly, yes, kind of very, turns out glitter confuses monsters very well.

Mina Ashido: Daughter of Hermes and legacy of Hecate, capable of inhuman movements and can produce a slime that magically dissolves anything. She also tattooed her eyes black and yellow for some weird masochistic reason that no one, including herself, doesn’t understand. She’s still neat though.

Tsuyu Asui: She’s a frog-turned-human by Ochako. She still has her tongue, leaps, hops, camouflage, a reversible stomach and poison that can kill a group of whales. And he can still inflate her throat like a balloon, which makes for good scares. Very good scares…

Tenya Iida: Son of Mercury, he never skips leg day. Never. Seriously, have you seen those legs? He could crush a car with those puppies! Or crush monster heads with those thunder thighs! Which he actually does quite often. He doesn’t skimp out on upper body exercises either, but LOOK AT THOSE LEGS OF THUNDER!

Ochako Uraraka: Daughter of Hecate, she specializes in a set of spells that manipulate an individual object’s or being’s gravitational pull. It’s gotten to the point where she makes anything she touches with five fingers on one hand, it will float, no matter what, which is why she wears gloves all the time. She likes floating whoever she finds particularly annoying way up into the sky.

Mashirao Ojiro: Son of Mars, he’s an expert martial artist and very, very good at multiple of them. He’s lost multiple sparring partners because of his profinity with a number of weapons, and his lethality without any weapons. Seriously, he once defeated a Drakon with his bare hands! And another dead drakon’s teeth!

Denki Kaminari: Legacy of Zeus and Apollo, each by about 50 generations. About as bright as his godly ancestors (not very), but he still makes one Hel of a lightning bolt, and he’s also pretty good with a guitar and lyre. And classical literature and culture, like Apollo’s Kettle, who taught him all that?!

Eijiro Kirishima: Son/creation of Vulcan, his blood and skin are pure liquid gold, bronze and diamond he can infinitely harden for a period of time. It also obtains unnaturally sharp edges, and given his tendency to go hard when excited, he has made his friends frequent the infirmary for cuts and broken ribs.

Koji Koda: Son of Actaedon, he can talk with wildlife. He’s also a Legacy of Heracles, hence his size. His hugs are nice, war and gentle. Unless you’re an enemy, his bear hugs can break spines and it’s fucking terrifying.

Rikido Sato: Son of Mars, this guy has a serious sweet tooth. He’s also surprisingly gentle for a guy that can decimate an opponent with a single hit. Oh yeah, he can one-shot a hellhound with one punch (que the epic op) to the head.

Mezo Shoji: Son of Ares, he’s surprisingly level-headed. And malicious. Seriously, this guy always has at least ten different weapons on him, on top of him knowing a variety of potentially lethal moves. His arms are known as the Anacondas for a reason. Well, he lost his two precious anacondas in battle, but now he has six bronze automaton anacondas, fuly articulated and loaded up with all kinds of weapons for maximum effectiveness in battle! Actually fuck that, he’s way more terrifying now, who let him get all that stuff?!

Kyoka Jiro: Daughter of Apollo, she’s a top-tier musician, singer and is moderate with a bow and arrow. She can whistle in the ultrasonic range, clap like thunder, sing and play like either a sweet little bird or a whole-ass heavy metal choir without ruining her vocal cords, and she gives the opposite amount of fucks that Zeus does (ie. zero).

Hanta Sero: Son of Hermes, he inherited a pair of magical tape dispensers that can dispense any tape in any amount of any properties he chooses. He uses them to swing around like Spider-Man, which made him a regular visitor of the infirmary until Momo made him a special harness to keep his joints from dislocating. Somehow, he still gets his shoulders dislocated.

Fumikage Tokoyami: Son of Erebos, he suffers from split-personality disorder, but it’s fixed nicely by his inner demon incarnate made of pure darkness he calls Dark Shadow. They have a strangely healthy and wholesome relationship for a boy and his literal inner demon, and they even help each other (or embarass, take your pick) in social interactions.

Shoto Todoroki: A Legacy, descendant of Hel and Surtr, capable of making ice that freezes fire, and fire that burns ice. He gives so little shit he’s actually oblivious to social cues, which makes for more than a few funny moments on quests with him.

Toru Hagakure: Legacy of Iris, she can manipulate light around her to turn invisible or project bright flashes. Campers often say hi to her even if she’s not there just in case.

Katsuki Bakugou: Son of Ares, with rage and instincts of combat so strong and powerful he can convert his sheer rage and passion into explosions in the palms of his hands. He generated more than one explosion with the explosive yield of a nuclear weapon in his life. How he hasn’t gone deaf yet is beyond most people, though he does still know a variety of sign languages in case he does go deaf.

Izuku Midoriya: Son of Athena that was gifted the Spartan Spirit, a powerful enchantment formed by Kratos, Nike, Bia and Zelus, to protect humanity in its greatest times of need, and bestowed upon the most well-meaning and kind-hearted individuals of an era. He ends up breaking his bones an absolute shitton, and is a regular at the infirmary. The healers and smiths absolutely loathe him by now.

Minoru Mineta: Died on a quest. His quest-mates say ‘by accident’. Everyone knows it was very deliberate, but then again, everyone hated him and is fine with him dead. Some people wanted to be the ones to kill him though.

Momo Yaoyorozu: A Legacy, granddaughter of Hephaestus and Athena, capable of making virtually any machine. She’s also very fidgety, and once made an entire army of fully autonomous grass soldiers that went on to terrorize the other campers for a bit. In thirty minutes.

Yosetsu Awase: Son of Hephaestus, he also likes to make stuff. Though mostly he combines already existing tools, gadgets and machines, and makes weird amalgamations. He once fused an automaton bull, an automaton dragon and a school bus, and it actually, somehow, despite all logic and reason, fucking works.

Sen Kaibara: Son of Ares, he’s pretty chill compared to his kin (especially Katsuki and Setsuna), mainly due to him bottling up his anger. Which he can unleash as tornadoes around his limbs, which he can use to drill through walls. Thank gods he doesn’t lose it too often.

Togaru Kamakiri: Son of Ceres, he likes farming tools. Especially ones with blades. That’s lead to him using all kinds of sickles, scythes (both farming tools and war scythes) in combat, and even axes, shovels, various lawn mowers...

Shihai Kuroiro: Son of Nyx, him and Tokoyami get along exceptionally well. Given his ability to shadow-travel and use shadows and darkness as materials to make some pretty nifty weapons only he can use, he’s strangely bright and like a Sun. At least among the two stepbrothers of darkness, and the bar for eing the sunny one is set very low.

Itsuka Kendo: Daughter of Athena, she excels in critical thinking and a variety of martial arts. And knocking out her piers with precise attacks when they start to get exceptionally annoying. Mostly Monoma. Scratch that, especially Monoma. Okay, nevermind, only Monoma.

Yui Kodai: Daughter of Trivia. She excels in potions and spells that manipulate the size of objects, so much so that she has to resort to gloves because she now naturally makes things smaller with her left hand, or bigger with her right hand. She’s the calm one of the 20 people here.

Kinoko Komori: Daughter of Demeter, she has a soft spot for fungi and mushrooms. Which she can make grow rapidly. Very rapidly. She’s fun at parties.

Ibara Shiozaki: Daughter of Demeter, she dyes her hair green with actual chlorophyll for some reason (“To feel one with the beautiful plants,” she says), but she can also grow and manipulate vines and other vine-like plants, along with trees, quite effectively, and she has some rose and poison oak (she’s immune to it) seeds in her hair. Don’t ask, her answers are just as ridiculous as the chlorophyll-dyed hair.

Jurota Shishida: Son of Mars, he’s been cursed by most likely Hera to be a humanoid boar/dog thing. He’s especially good at wrestling, and is very diplomatic in his approach. Until he gets pissed, then he charges like a boar and yes, he keeps those tusks of his sharp.

Niregeki Shoda: Legacy of Hermes, son of Hephaestus, he likes to make explosives and plant them everywhere. More than a few campers were scared. Except Katsuki, who tried to outdo the ground (Niregeki’s mine) in explosive yield and put skylight access in the roof of Bunker 9. Niregeki had to repair it.

Pony Tsunotori: Legacy of Poseidon, she can shapeshift. She likes to shapeshift into horses, bulls, deer and goats (including mooses and buffalo), and she has a nifty gadget from the Hephaestus and Vulcan campers in the shape of horns that transform with her, giving her detachable remote-control horns. 

Kosei Tsuburaba: Legacy of Jupiter, son of Ares, he’s competitive and can make walls and blades out of air. Especially annoying for monsters because they can’t get to him, period, and every time they try, they don’t get past his walls of air for a whole minute before someone either cuts/hacks/slices them to bits, freezes/burns them alive, blows them up with their fists/explosives/expanding stones they previously ingested or some other way of disposing of a monster.

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu: Son of Vulcan, capable of turning to pure steel over his entire body, also increasing his strength. Because of this, and his tendency to go hard whenever he’s excited, he’s made his friends frequent the infirmary for bruises and broken ribs. Except Kirishima.

Setsuna Tokage: Daughter of Ares, she’s actually been hurt pretty badly in one of her fights (she went on a Quest with Katsuki, and no, it wasn’t him who hurt her, and yes, no one really believes that story either) and had to have automaton grafts to replace her limbs, a part of her lower jaw, her eyes and the muscles around her spine, along with parts of the vertebrae. Which she asked to be detachable and splittable in as many pieces as possible, which she can control telepathically and uses to troll other campers. A lot. Especially two certain sons of Vulcan and her half-siblings.

Manga Fukidashi: No one knows what he is, they just know his head is a speech bubble and he can make anything he writes real.

Juzo Honenuki: Legacy of Gaia, he can virtually liquify the ground (does not work on metal or wooden floors). He trolls a lot with this ability. And I do mean a lot.

Kojiro Bondo: A golem? A person? His head makes it hard to tell whether he’s a demigod or a monster to be honest. And his glue-like spit doesn’t help much either.

Neito Monoma: Legacy of, you guessed it, Zeus! He has a superiority complex because of this, and he frequents the infirmary on the basis of Itsuka or whoever he was annoying KOing him constantly. All that brain damage probably isn’t helping his mental issues…

Reiko Yanagi: Daughter of Hecate she can make things she touches float and fly around using some sort of incantation. The biggest she can do is double her own body weight, but that doesn’t stop her from delivering high-speed flying punches and scaring other campers.

Hiryu Rin: Son of Mars and Legacy of Poseidon, he can shapeshift into various animals. Most notably a mix of human, hedgehog and a lizard. Sharp, painful and deadly precise. And also meditating. And a lot of it.

[lovely-little-bull]

Character Bio

«« BASICS »»

« Full name »

Taura Caterina Andreas

« Meaning »

First and middle names mean "pure and innocent bull"; last name means "manly, brave, or warrior".

« Nickname »

Catie

« Reason for Nickname »

It was easier for her childhood classmates to spell and pronounce

« Age »

14 (can vary if RP takes place before/after ToA)

« Birthday »

April 27

« Gender »

Demigirl (she doesn't feel totally connected to the female gender, but she doesn't have a label for it yet)

«Sexuality »

Panromantic Asexual (also doesn't have a label yet)

« Species »

Demigod (¼ Monster)

««Appearance »»

« Height »

5'3

« Weight »

152 lbs

« Body Type/Build »

Mesomorph

« Hair Color »

Golden Brown

« Hair Style »

Wavy/Curly mix; usually loose or tied back with a thin rope

« Eye Color »

Brilliant blue, just like her father's

« Scars »

Various scars spread over body, mostly along torso and arms

« Birthmarks »

N/A

« Tattoos »

N/A

« Piercings »

Ears (Closed)

« Skin Tone »

Fair; lightly tanned

« Other Distinguishing Features »

A pair of nubby ivory horns has begun to protrude from her temples, ending about ¾ of an inch off her head

«« PERSONALITY »»

« General Personality »

Taura is very clever and shy. She comes off as a bit mysterious, preferring not to talk about herself or her past. Despite that and her tendency to keep to herself though, she desperately wants to be accepted for who she is and to feel like she belongs somewhere. She is also very understanding, and she tends to see the good in people. In fact, she'd probably be extremely loyal and kind to her friends if she had any. Still, she is capable of disliking others, usually if they’re rather mean without a good reason to be. Despite all this, Taura is not one to mess with. When she gets too upset, she goes into a blind fury, attacking anything that comes near her. She also suffers from depression and anxiety; she feels as if she is worthless and will constantly get nightmares and traumatizing flashbacks of her past. Taura rarely feels at peace and will run off when she starts getting upset, so that she can calm down and avoid losing control. She has an incredible amount of patience though, so she rarely gets to her breaking point. Given time, her strong sense of imagination will lead her to be a very creative and artistic individual.

« Typical Mood »

Apprehensive

« Triggers »

Mentions or images of car crashes or Tartarus

Unprovoked hatred/violence towards monsters or similarly misunderstood people/creatures

Violent deaths

Can also be physically triggered during a fight if someone takes things too far

« Likes »

People getting along

Things that remind her of home (certain foods, scents, surroundings, etc.)

Reflections of light and other light effects

Nature (although, not so much the sea)

Animals

Different forms of art

Hearing stories

« Dislikes »

Violence

Bullying

Being alone

Matadors

Beef, leather, etc.

Complete darkness 

Her looks (especially her horns)

« Fears »

Zeus, Poseidon, and their children

Tartarus and the possibility of ending up there

Becoming emotionally attached to people

Losing people she cares about 

Losing control of her anger

Socialization with new people

« Accent »

Greek

«« RELATIONSHIPS »»

« Father »

Apollo

« Mother »

Calantha Andreas

« Grandmother »

Damaris Andreas

« Grandfather »

Asterion (The Minotaur)

« Relationship Status »

Single

«« COMBAT »»

« Weapons »

None currently; Trained with a battleaxe and naturally talented at archery (undiscovered)

« Armor »

None currently

« Powers/Special Abilities »

Heightened senses (except for sight)

Increased strength and stamina

Ability to talk to bovine animals

Slight control over the mist

Minor healing abilities

«« BACKSTORY »»

Calantha's Story

Taura's grandmother, Damaris, was a skilled artisan and witch based in Rhodes, Greece. At the time, the Minotaur lived in some ruins near her house, and she came across him one day after he had injured himself. Seeing only the blurred figure of a distressed man, Damaris treated his wounds and found herself rather enamored with the strong, silent nature of the stranger. She made offerings to Aphrodite and Hera in order to have a successful relationship with him, and a year later, Calantha was born. She had developed her father's short temper, which got her into plenty of trouble throughout her adolescence. It didn't help that her mother was virtually blind and her father was constantly going off on his own.

When Calantha turned nine, her father was killed and sent back to Tartarus. To her and her mother, it seemed he had just disappeared. However, they got through it, and Calantha gained a new sense of maturity. She took care of her mother and learned to sew, so that she could sell clothing in her mother's shop.

In high school, Calantha was an outcast. Rumors had been spread that her father was a murderer who fled the country, which wasn't too far from the truth. People were scared of her and constantly avoided her. Even the teachers felt uneasy around her. So, as soon as she graduated, she headed to an arts college in New York. There, she reunited with her father and fell in love with a man she met at a poetry bar. That man turned out to be Apollo. They dated during her last year of college, but eventually, he had to leave.

Later that year, Calantha moved back to Greece. She was planning on bringing her mother to New York to visit her father, but she was forced to stay home when she discovered that she was pregnant. Soon, she gave birth to a beautiful baby who she named Taura Caterina, in reference to the child's astrological sign.

A few years later, Calantha was offered a job in New York. One of her friends from college had gotten into the fashion industry and wanted Calantha's help starting a new line of clothing. She decided to take the offer and moved to New York with her mother and daughter.

After visiting the Minotaur, Calantha's mother, who had been sick for quite a while, passed away. Calantha became more determined than ever to make sure her daughter had a happy childhood. She amassed a decent amount of money from all her hard work and used it to open a successful clothing boutique. For the first time in her life, everything was going perfectly. Unfortunately, that all came to an end when she lost her life in a tragic accident.

Taura's Story

Taura was born in Greece, where she was raised by her mother and grandmother. When she was a few years old, they moved to New York. Her mother had no way to contact Taura's father and let him know of her existence, but Taura was able to meet her grandfather, the Minotaur, for the first time and he grew rather fond of her. She brought out a side of him that most others didn't see. Her grandmother, receiving her final wish of having her family reunited one last time, passed away a few days later.

When she was five, Taura started being able to heal small wounds, such as cuts and scrapes. However, she found herself unable to save her mother, who died in a car crash caused by a drunk driver. She survived the crash with minor injuries and was taken in by her grandfather. Despite his brutal nature, he had a soft spot for young Taura. He taught her how to fight, and when her horns started growing in, he helped her understand her heritage. Although, she wasn't able to learn much, because a few years later, her grandfather was sent back to Tartarus after battling Percy Jackson.

Afterwards, Taura lived on her own. She was careful not to be seen by others unless she needed to go to the market for something. She always wore a hat in public and stayed away from anything that smelled dangerous. Taura also managed to learn quite a bit of English, but she's still not completely fluent.

Everything was okay until Taura found a strange archway labeled Camp Half-Blood as she was wandering around in the woods. She attempted to go through it, but was unable to, due to her monster heritage. She has since become fascinated with the archway and has returned to it every night for the past week.*

*This backstory only references everything Taura has been through up to the start of this blog and does not include events that may have happened in any threads since then. Overall, this character bio is just to get a sense of who Taura is, but I fully expect her to grow and evolve over the course of roleplaying.

Template based on:

http://aminoapps.com/p/q7z85f

[kpopfanfictrash]

Greek Life

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Taehyung / Reader

Word Count: 3,218

AU: Demigod / College Fraternity

Dialogue Prompt: "Are you suggesting an orgy?” (warning: this got a bit darker than intended but there’s light at the end!)

↳ part of my AU drabble game

“Alright.” Both arms crossed over his chest, Seokjin glared at Hoseok, son of Apollo. “I just want to be clear about one thing tonight.”

Without glancing up from his phone, Hoseok pushed dark Gucci sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, brother?”

“Not brothers,” Seokjin corrected. “Anyways, this is me reminding you that your set volume cannot be over 100 decibels tonight. If we get another noise complaint, this house is toast.”

If Hoseok did roll his eyes, Seokjin couldn’t see through the sunglasses. The generally dismissive slouch of his posture was answer enough.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Hoseok drawled.

Seokjin’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I’m afraid I’m gonna need more than that. The last time you said you’d keep it down, we hit 125 decibels and the house nearly collapsed.”

“A gross exaggeration,” said Yoongi, son of Hades, currently curled up on the sofa. “As the demi-god of earthquakes –”

“Actually, Poseidon is in charge of earthquakes.”

“– seeing as we have no son of Poseidon in this house, I am demi-god of earthquakes, and I can inform you that the house was not close to falling down.”

“Irregardless,” Seokjin said.

“Irregardless isn’t a word!” 

Namjoon’s voice drifted from somewhere on the third floor. As son of Athena, goddess of wisdom and strategy, Namjoon took grave offense to grammatical errors.

Seokjin sighed. Rubbing his forehead, he contemplated whether his continued attempts at decency were worth it. At least if he tried, he could tell himself he did everything he could to stop chaos before it arrived. Decision made, Seokjin fixed Hoseok with his best no-nonsense glare. It was a good one, to be sure. As the son of Demeter, goddess of harvest and earth, Seokjin was the most grounded one in the fraternity.

“Hoseok,” he said. The younger demi-god looked up. “You will keep it down or I’ll personally call your father.”

The smirk disappeared from Jung Hoseok’s face. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would.”

Seokjin sounded so stern, Hoseok didn’t feel like calling him out. Despite his cooler-than-thou appearance, Hoseok had major daddy issues – as in, he hated his. Apollo was a difficult guy to be be cuddly with, to be fair. On the surface, he seemed everything a father figure should be: personable, warm and awe-inspiring. Apollo was the god of the sun, healing, prophecy, music and poetry. As one might expect from the god of the sun though, he had rather high expectations for his offspring.

Hoseok didn’t care about greatness, so long as he had a good tune and good times. One time, he semi-jokingly proposed to Apollo that he become the demi-god of DJ’s and sick beats. Apollo wasn’t amused by the suggestion.

“Fine.” Hoseok placed both feet on the floor. “Dearest Seokjin, I will try to keep it down but know this,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “You have ruined the soul of an artist.”

Seokjin tried not to laugh. “Yeah, cool. I’ll take my chances.”

Turning around, Seokjin exited the living room into the main hall. There, he found himself face to face with what could only be described as chaos. Taehyung, son of Dionysus, absently twined grape vines up the stairs while Jimin, son of Aphrodite and Jungkook, son of Zeus, argued in front of the door.

Taehyung cocked his head while he stared at the bannister, trying to make sense of it all. As the son of Dionysus – god of wine, fertility and ecstasy – he was not unaccustomed to parties. Even his origin story at the frat involved one. When the other men showed up this year for their first day of campus, they found Taehyung entrenched in their backyard, midway through the biggest beach rager the University had ever seen.

As to his method of arrival and when, even Taehyung was not sure on the details. General merriment seemed to follow him wherever he went. The moment he decided to attend University, obviously the party followed him to his new destination.

Regardless, Taehyung was welcomed into Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) with open arms, due to the similarities he had with its other members. Taehyung was descended from a god of the Greek Pantheon, as they all were. Most mortals were shocked to learn gods and demi-gods still walked amongst them. Most mortals were blind, though and rarely saw what was beyond their noses.

Taehyung looked up, surveying the chaos before him. Kim Seokjin, eldest of the house, usually adopted a parental role to the others. At that moment, he had both hands on his hips and was attempting to mediate a fight between Jimin and Jungkook.

Already, sparks leapt from Jungkook’s fingers while Jimin’s gaze burned ruby-red with his anger.

Jimin, son of Aphrodite. 

Sweet and beautiful, with a temperament to match until you spoke ill of his loved ones. Then, all bets were off and as lovely as Jimin could be, his temper was far worse. Sweet words turned poisonous when spewed from his lips, since Jimin was also armed with the gift of persuasion. Jungkook attempted to avoid said power by not looking Jimin in the eyes.

“Look!” Jungkook said, one hand over his face. “I didn’t say your mother was easy! I just said she has a lot of demi-god children. That’s all!”

“She’s the goddess of love,” Jimin hissed, attempting to swat Jungkook’s hand down. His gaze burned scarlet in an otherwise calm expression. “Obviously she has children! You’re one to talk, anyways. How’s good ‘ol dad doing? Impregnated any mortals recently? Turned himself into a ray of light? A cow?”

“Hey! He turned Io into a cow, not himself!”

“How is that better?”

Shrugging, Jungkook nearly stumbled as he crashed into an a thousand-year-old lamp. 

Appearing from nowhere, Yoongi deftly caught this and replaced it on the counter. “Welcome,” he mumbled, drifting into the kitchen.

For a minute, Jimin and Jungkook forgot their fight and stared. 

“Dude needs to announce himself more,” Jungkook said, momentarily thrown.

Shoving both hands into the pockets of his hoodie, Jungkook revealed a small rip in the seams. Despite his grunge, Jungkook was still one of the most handsome guys around campus. It was hard not to be with his chiseled jawline, tousled hair and dark, piercing gaze. If there were a student vote on who was most likely to be a demi-god amongst them, Jeon Jungkook would be the unanimous favorite.

Still, he had problems of his own. Mainly that despite all his achievements, his father continued to insist he failed to meet expectations. A demigod of Zeus was powerful and as such, was expected to accomplish great feats. So far, Jungkook had only been the youngest person ever to climb Mt. Everest, written a collection of poems reviewed in Time Magazine, discovered a purpose for the appendix not previously thought of and contributed several designs to NASA’s most recent launch.

Zeus called it all child’s play. 

Shortly following, Jungkook stopped trying to impress his father and enrolled in University. Still, it wasn’t unusual to run into Jungkook at odd hours of the night, muttering corrections of Machiavellian theory with a bottle of wine in one hand.

All of this went to say that Taehyung understood why Jungkook was sometimes an ass. Jimin was lucky amongst them, as far as demi-gods went. He had intense, emotional power but he also had a goddess who loved him. Taehyung, on the other hand, had rarely seen his father since he had discovered what he truly was. It was hard having a father in charge of general celebration. It meant Dionysus was often called elsewhere, usually interrupting any father-son bonding time.

“Listen.” Seokjin rubbed his forehead. “You two are giving me an Athena-sized headache. Stop bickering and help Taehyung – his vines are out of control.”

Glancing at his hands, Taehyung realized Seokjin was correct. While he had been watching them argue, his vines had taken on a life of their own. They twined around his legs, the banister and sprouted large clusters of pomegranates (which, frankly, didn’t make any sense). Absently, Taehyung plucked one of them and took a large bite. Lately, he’d been very interested in pomegranates.

Clomping his way downstairs, Namjoon batted vines out of the way. “Are you going to clean this up before tonight?” he said to Taehyung, who nodded. To Seokjin, he added, “And watch what you say about my mother.”

“I was being literal!” Seokjin protested. “Your mom was literally born from Zeus’ mind, so obviously her birth was a headache. I don’t make the rules –”

“Thank the gods for that.”

“Shut up, Jungkook.”

This last statement was exclaimed by Jimin, Seokjin and Namjoon combined. Abruptly, Jungkook turned around on his heel and exited the lobby. Once he was gone, some of the red dissipated from Jimin’s gaze.

He looked sympathetically at Taehyung. “Need help cleaning?” Jimin offered, laying a hand on the bannister. 

His touch instantly trimmed the vines, sending blossoming roses over the rest.

Taehyung wrinkled his nose. “This looks… somehow worse.”

“Sorry, man.” Jimin’s lips twitched. “My botanical powers only go so far.”

With a wave of his hand, Seokjin transformed the mess into neat, tidy rows of vines up the staircase. As the son of Demeter, he had the best grasp over all earthly elements.

“There.” Satisfied, Seokjin dusted both palms on his pants. He looked curiously at Taehyung. “You alright, man? Lately, your powers have been, uh…”

It was considered impolite to comment on another demi-god’s powers; hence why Seokjin trailed off at the end. 

Taehyung tilted his head. “They’ve been what, exactly?”

Seokjin seemed distinctly uncomfortable. “Off?”

“On the fritz,” said Jimin helpfully.

“Borderline chaotic,” Namjoon added.

Taehyung considered their input. “Borderline chaotic is kind of my nature, no?”

“Yes, but…” Namjoon shook his head. “Not like this.”

Chewing on his lip, Taehyung was forced to admit they were right. His powers had always been intense, but they were usually controlled. Despite the influence he exerted over others, Taehyung could never party or grow drunk on his own power. In his opinion, this was his great curse. No matter what Taehyung did, he always found himself the eye of the hurricane, the center of the storm. He could never lose himself in the relief he provided to others; could only watch while they did.

Lately though, his powers had changed. They were darker, less controlled and had a frustrated edge. Glancing down at the pomegranate he held in one hand, Taehyung saw the seeds were an ominous shade of dark purple.

“It’s because of Y/N,” Jungkook said as he entered the room.

Taehyung’s head snapped up.

Leaning his shoulder to the wall, Jungkook stared lazily back. Power crackled restlessly about him like thunder. 

“What?” He arched a brow. “You know I’m right.”

Though Taehyung’s lips parted, he had no response because Jungkook was correct. If Taehyung retraced his magic to the moment it changed, it was around the time he met you. Or, more accurately, it was around the time you rejected him. 

Taehyung’s stomach twisted.

“Who’s Y/N?” Namjoon asked, glancing between them.

Taehyung tried and failed to look casual. “No one.”

He could barely push the words past his lips, which prompted Namjoon to arch a brow. “Doesn’t seem like no one.”

“She is,” Taehyung muttered. “She wants nothing to do with me – rightfully so. Which means that she’s no one.”

“That seems harsh, Tae,” Seokjin chastised. “How do you know?”

His gaze softened looking at Taehyung. Taehyung was the youngest amongst them aside from Jungkook, so the other demi-gods felt the need to protect him. No one else thought to, thanks to Taehyung’s abilities but in him, the others saw their younger selves. His powers drained him so often and left him feeling exhausted from their personal nature.

When Taehyung said nothing more, Jungkook sighed. “Just the usual,” he said, a bit gentler. “The same girl came to a few of our parties. Taehyung liked her. His powers got out of control. When she tried to kiss him, he pulled his powers away and she freaked. Ran out of the party before he could explain.”

“What would I explain?” Taehyung said, unable to help himself. The vines at his feet withered and turned an unnatural shade of black. “Hey, sorry about that! I’m just the demi-god of parties and wine. You got too buzzed on my power, so I tried to pull back and return your free will. Wanna hang?”

Even Namjoon had no response, rubbing the back of his neck. “Or,” he suggested. “You could just apologize about the party and offer to buy her a coffee.”

Taehyung looked up. “That’s just a temporary fix, right? Eventually, I’ll have to tell her and – let’s face it – who would stay? I’ve seen what these powers do to my dad. I’ve seen what they did to his other children. It’s pointless to become attached to a mortal.”

Out of all Dionysus’s children, Taehyung was the only one currently living. Most had been famous throughout history – musicians and actors known more for their parties than the talent they had. Many died young, unable to cope with the effects of their powers. Taehyung knew it was smart to push you away, since he couldn’t control himself and his powers often proved lethal.

Still, a pang entered his stomach whenever he thought of you. Whenever he remembered the shape of your lips, the way that you smiled and the uncertain way your fingers curled in your sundress. You laughed in two ways when you talked. One was a quiet, self-conscious giggle, but other was Taehyung’s favorite. It was more of a snort than a laugh, granted whenever Taehyung said something particularly funny.

The memory of this made Taehyung’s heart twist and he swallowed, looking away from the others.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jimin seemed distressed by his pain. He probably was; oftentimes, Jimin confused other people’s emotions for his own.

“I’m sorry, Tae,” he said softly.

“S’alright,” Taehyung muttered, even though it wasn’t.

“Can I do anything to help?” Jimin brightened. “Want me to use my powers, or something?”

Jungkook looked at him in amazement. “Are you suggesting an orgy? Dude, this hardly seems like the time.”

Jimin glared. “That’s not all my powers are good for, you jackass. I can make people forget their troubles, you know. At least for a little while.”

The tips of his fingers glowed faintly pink and Jungkook glanced at his hands, thoroughly unnerved. Jimin’s power of persuasion extended beyond simply telling others what to do. He could make someone else feel happy, sad, tired or angry – a hefty power, although it wore off after awhile and wasn’t quite as good as the real thing.

Taehyung shook his head. “No, thanks. Appreciate the offer, though.”

“Anytime.”

As he climbed the stairs, Seokjin clapped Taehyung on the shoulder. “Sorry, man,” he mumbled, understanding the fear. Truly, they all did. “Let me know if you need anything. I’m gonna bake later if you wanna stop by.”

Taehyung smiled despite himself. If there was one earthly power which could cure his longing, it was Seokjin’s cookies. “Thanks, man.”

Shooting him a sympathetic look, Jungkook nodded and Jimin poked him hard in the ribs. “C’mon,” Jimin said, jerking his chin. “Let’s go help Hobi with his playlist before Seokjin pops a vein worrying.”

A giant grin stretched over Jungkook’s face, which the rest of them should have found worrisome. 

“Cool.” Head bobbing, he followed Jimin down the hall. “Yoongi showed me this great eastern European doom metal band. Gonna see if I can get Hobi to play it tonight.”

Jimin snorted, his voice growing softer the further away he got. “Get the demi-god of the sun to play doom metal? Good luck with that, man.”

“Maybe if I tell him Mariah Carey covered it.”

The sounds of their conversation faded to nothing, leaving Taehyung alone in the hall with Namjoon. Turning quickly, Taehyung attempted to leave but was halted in his descent by Namjoon clearing his throat. 

Slowly, Taehyung looked up at his friend.

Namjoon looked back. 

No one could stare quite like Namjoon. He had a piercing gaze, as though he saw every piece of your soul and was able to size you up to expectation. It made Taehyung wildly uncomfortable, as it did most people.

“You know you’re only a half god, right?” Namjoon tilted his head. “Part of you is also human.”

“I know.” Taehyung’s voice came out somewhat petulant, though he did not mean it to be.

Crossing both arms, Namjoon leaned a shoulder against the wall. His irises glowed the gentle gold of Athena. “It’s hard to control our powers,” he admitted. “It is, but there are difficulties in any relationship. Don’t give up on your own happiness.”

A wan smile crossed Taehyung’s lips. “Are the difficulties in most relationships that the guy semi-drugs his girlfriend whenever he loses control?”

Namjoon winced. “You don’t drug them.”

“Feels like it,” Taehyung muttered, glancing down.

“Their natural impulses are already there,” Namjoon pointed out. “Your presence at parties doesn’t make people drunk. People drinking makes people drunk. You only lower their inhibitions, call out their truth, give people the freedom inebriation gives without intoxication. You grant people their truest form – which is a gift, not a curse.”

Taehyung didn’t respond. He knew Namjoon was right, at least in part. Still, there existed within him a kernel of darkness he couldn’t control. His power was linked to such horror and melancholy; it was hard sometimes to see the light.

“Hey.” Namjoon took a step closer. His voice took on that maddening wisdom which came from the goddess. “We all have burdens. Humans do too, along with demi-gods. Our greatest strengths are often our greatest weaknesses. Someone who’s confident is prideful. Someone who’s humble? Inactive. Someone who rationalizes, often fails to empathize. It’s why relationships are necessary, Taehyung – they provide balance. You can’t simply close yourself off from the rest of the world.”

Taehyung’s gaze sharpened, looking up from the floor. The vines at his feet unfurled, reminding them that while Taehyung’s power was mostly parties and fun, there was a dark side of revelry which couldn’t be forgotten. Madness and misery emerged just as often as goodness when he called true selves forth.

“Okay.” Taehyung kept his voice level.

Seeing he wouldn’t budge on the matter, Namjoon sighed.

Truthfully, Taehyung heard his advice and longed to accept it, but found it too hard. It was difficult when his chest ached for you, when he couldn’t stop chastising himself for the moment you ran from his house.

Namjoon nodded and turned down the staircase. “Let me know if you need anything,” he called over his shoulder. “Gonna go and make sure Yoongi hasn’t turned the basement into another séance, or something.”

As he left, his footsteps growing quieter, Taehyung stared the sight of his retreating back. Uncertainty entered the pit of his stomach, wondering if perhaps Namjoon was right. The sanest to date Taehyung had felt was the past year in the house, living amongst others who understood what he was.

Maybe it was foolish of him to push you away.

As soon as he thought this, his phone chimed in his pocket. The sight of your name at the top of his screen sent his heart soaring, wondering if this coincidence was something he couldn’t ignore. Pushing blue-black hair from his eyes, he unlocked your text.

Y/N: hey. I just wanted to apologize for leaving so quickly. I think I drank too much, got carried away but… I really liked our conversation. Would you want to get coffee sometime? [4:15 PM]

Taehyung’s heart constricted, his hands trembled and before he could stop himself, he was responding.

Taehyung: yes, please. When?? [4:16 PM]

 Author’s Note: hey, I just got service at the hotel so I’m posting but I haven’t proof-read as much as I usually do! Please forgive any errors, I promise to read over it again in the coming days :) thank you!

↳ part of my AU drabble game

Greek Life!All + brainstorming fundraiser ideas for the frat

[l0uk45]

If students from class 1A and 1B were part of the Riordanverse:

Yuga Aoyama: Son of Aphrodite. Not even a good one, unless you need someone blinded by his glitter-gun. Oh yeah, he has a glitter gun with lasers for maximum flare. Is he completely over-the-top? Absolutely. But is he good in a fight? Surprisingly, yes.

Mina Ashido: Daughter of Hermes and legacy of Hecate, capable of inhuman movements and can produce a slime that magically dissolves anything. She also tattooed her eyes black and yellow for some weird masochistic reason.

Tsuyu Asui: She’s a frog-turned-human by Ochako. She still has her tongue, leaps, hops, camouflage, a reversible stomach and poison that can kill a group of whales. And he can still inflate her throat like a balloon, which makes for good scares.Very good scares…

Tenya Iida: Son of Mercury, he never skips leg day. Never. Seriously, have you seen those legs? He could crush a car with those puppies! Or crush monster heads! Which he does do quite often! He doesn’t skimp out on upper body exercises either, but LOOK AT THOSE LEGS OF THUNDER!

Ochako Uraraka: Daughter of Hecate, she specializes in a set of spells that manipulate an individual object’s or being’s gravitational pull. It’s gotten to the point where she makes anything she touches with five fingers on one hand, it will float, no matter what, which is why she wears gloves all the time.

Mashirao Ojiro: Son of Mars, he’s an expert martial artist and very, very good at multiple of them. He’s lost multiple sparring partners because of his profinity with a number of weapons, and his lethality without any weapons.

Denki Kaminari: Legacy of Zeus and Apollo, each by about 50 generations. About as bright as his godly ancestors (not very), but he still makes one Hel of a lightning bolt, and he’s also pretty good with a guitar and lyre. 

Eijiro Kirishima: Son of Vulcan, his blood and skin are pure liquid gold, bronze and diamond he can infinitely harden for a period of time. It also obtains unnaturally sharp edges, and given his tendency to go hard when excited, he has made his friends frequent the infirmary for cuts and broken ribs.

Koji Koda: Son of Actaedon, he can talk with wildlife. He’s also a Legacy of Heracles, hence his size. His hugs are nice, war and gentle.

Rikido Sato: Son of Mars, this guy has a serious sweet tooth. He’s also surprisingly gentle for a guy that can decimate an opponent with a single hit.

Mezo Shoji: Son of Ares, he’s surprisingly level-headed. And malicious. Seriously, this guy always has at least ten different weapons on him, on top of him knowing a variety of potentially lethal moves. His arms are known as the Anacondas for a reason.

Kyoka Jiro: Daughter of Apollo, she’s a top-tier musician, singer and is moderate with a bow and arrow. She can whistle in the ultrasonic range, clap like thunder, sing and play like either a sweet little bird or a whole-ass heavy metal choir without ruining her vocal cords, and she gives the opposite amount of fucks that Zeus does (ie. zero).

Hanta Sero: Son of Hermes, he inherited a pair of magical tape dispensers that can dispense any tape in any amount of any properties he chooses. He uses them to swing around like Spider-Man, which made him a regular visitor of the infirmary until Momo made him a special harness to keep his joints from dislocating. 

Fumikage Tokoyami: Son of Erebos, he suffers from split-personality disorder, but it’s fixed nicely by his inner demon incarnate made of pure darkness he calls Dark Shadow. They have a strangely healthy relationship for a boy and his literal inner demon.

Shoto Todoroki: A Legacy, descendant of Hel and Surtr, capable of making ice that freezes fire, and fire that burns ice. He gives so little shit he’s actually oblivious to social cues, which makes for more than a few funny moments on quests with him.

Toru Hagakure: Legacy of Iris, she can manipulate light around her to turn invisible or project bright flashes

Katsuki Bakugou: Son of Ares, with rage and instincts of war so strong and powerful he can convert his sheer rage into explosions in the palms of his hands. He generated more than one explosion with the explosive yield of a nuclear weapon in his life. How he hasn’t gone deaf yet is beyond most people, though he does still know a variety of sign languages.

Izuku Midoriya: A mortal, capable of seeing through the mist, was gifted the Spartan Spirit, a spirit formed by Kratos, Nike, Bia and Zelus, to protect humanity in its greatest times of need. He ends up breaking his bones an absolute shitton, and is a regular at the infirmary.

Minoru Mineta: Died on a quest. His quest-mates say ‘by accident’. Everyone knows it was very deliberate, but then again, everyone hated him and is fine with him dead. Some people wanted to be the ones to kill him though.

Momo Yaoyorozu: A Legacy, granddaughter of Hephaestus and Athena, capable of making virtually any machine. She’s also very fidgety, and once made an entire army of fully autonomous grass soldiers that went on to terrorize the other campers for a bit. In thirty minutes.

Class 1B:

Yosetsu Awase: Son of Hephaestus, he also likes to make stuff. Though mostly he combines already existing tools, gadgets and machines, and makes weird amalgamations. He once fused an automaton bull, an automaton dragon and a school bus, and it actually works.

Sen Kaibara: Son of Ares, he’s pretty chill compared to his kin (especially Katsuki and Setsuna), mainly due to him bottling up his anger. Which he can unleash as tornadoes around his limbs, which he can use to drill through walls. Thank gods he doesn’t lose it too often.

Togaru Kamakiri: Son of Ceres, he likes farming tools. Especially ones with blades. That’s lead to him using all kinds of sickles, scythes (both farming tools and war scythes) and even a few lawn mowers, shovels, axes...

Shihai Kuroiro: Son of Nyx, him and Tokoyami get along exceptionally well. Given his ability to shadow-travel and use shadows and darkness as materials to make some pretty nifty weapons only he can use.

Itsuka Kendo: Daughter of Athena, she excels in critical thinking and a variety of martial arts. And knocking out her piers with precise attacks when they start to get exceptionally annoying.

Yui Kodai: Daughter of Trivia. She excels in potions and spells that manipulate the size of objects, so much so that she has to resort to gloves because she now naturally makes things smaller with her left hand, or bigger with her right hand. She’s the calm one.

Kinoko Komori: Daughter of Demeter, she has a soft spot for fungi and mushrooms. Which she can make grow rapidly. Very rapidly. She’s fun at parties.

Ibara Shiozaki: Daughter of Demeter, she dyes her hair green with actual chlorophyll for some reason (“To feel one with the beautiful plants,” she says), but she can also grow and manipulate vines and other vine-like plants, along with trees, quite effectively, and she has some rose and poison oak (she’s immune to it) seeds in her hair. Don’t ask, her answers are just as ridiculous as the chlorophyll-dyed hair.

Jurota Shishida: Son of Mars, he’s been cursed by most likely Hera to be a humanoid boar/dog thing. He’s especially good at wrestling, and is very diplomatic in his approach. Until he gets pissed, then he charges like a boar and yes, he keeps those tusks of his sharp on a regular basis.

Niregeki Shoda: Legacy of Hermes, son of Hephaestus, he likes to make explosives and plant them everywhere. More than a few campers were scared. Except Katsuki, who tried to outdo the ground (Niregeki’s mine) in explosive yield and put skylight access in the roof of Bunker 9. Niregeki had to repair it.

Pony Tsunotori: Legacy of Poseidon, she can shapeshift. She likes to shapeshift into horses, bulls, deer and goats (including mooses and buffalo), and she has a nifty gadget from the Hephaestus and Vulcan campers in the shape of horns that transform with her, giving her detachable remote-control horns. 

Kosei Tsuburaba: Legacy of Jupiter, son of Ares, he’s competitive and can make walls and blades out of air. Especially annoying for monsters because they can’t get to him, period, and every time they try, they don’t get past his walls of air for a whole minute before someone either cuts/hacks/slices them to bits, freezes/burns them alive, blows them up with their fists/explosives/expanding stones they previously ingested or some other way of disposing a monster.

Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu: Son of Vulcan, capable of turning to pure steel over his entire body, also increasing his strength. Because of this, and his tendency to go hard whenever he’s excited, he’s made his friends frequent the infirmary for bruises and broken ribs.

Setsuna Tokage: Daughter of Ares, she’s actually been hurt pretty badly in one of her fights (she went on a Quest with Katsuki, and no, it wasn’t him who hurt her) and had to have automaton grafts to replace her limbs, a part of her lower jaw, her eyes and the muscles around her spine, along with parts of the vertebrae. Which she asked to be detachable and splittable in as many pieces as possible, which she can control telepathically and uses to troll other campers. A lot. Especially two certain sons of Vulcan.

Manga Fukidashi: No one knows what he is, they just know his head is a speech bubble and he can make anything he writes real.

Juzo Honenuki: Legacy of Gaia, he can virtually liquify the ground (does not work on metal or wooden floors). He trolls a lot with this ability. And I do mean a lot.

Kojiro Bondo: A golem? A person? His head makes it hard to tell whether he’s a demigod or a monster to be honest. And his glue-like spit doesn’t help much either.

Neito Monoma: Legacy of, you guessed it, Zeus! He has a superiority complex because of this, and he frequents the infirmary on the basis of Itsuka or whoever he was annoying KOing him constantly. All that brain damage probably isn’t helping his mental issues...

Reiko Yanagi: Daughter of Hecate she can make things she touches float and fly around using some sort of incantation. The biggest she can do is double her own body weight, but that doesn’t stop her from delivering high-speed flying punches and scaring other campers.

Hiryu Rin: Son of Mars and Legacy of Poseidon, he can shapeshift into various animals. Most notably a mix of human, hedgehog and a lizard. Sharp, painful and deadly precise. And also meditating. And a lot of it.

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. LO spends way more time focusing on Hades and developing him and his wants, relationships, and emphasizing his status as a god/king that I'm honestly questioning if Persephone is even supposed to be the lead character. Sure the icon is her worried face, but the story is about her changing to be what HE wants, to marry HIM, to give him what HE wants, even her comparisons are to women in HIS life, and now the story is more and more about giving HIM unique powers that he seems more like the lead.

2. I don't get how LO fans say any critique "ruins their fun" when no one forces them to read any of this? Maybe they can take their own advice of "don't like, don't read" to heart. More so, if pointing out the truly bad elements like the awful use of sexual assault, misogyny, classism, etc etc "ruins their fun", then why do they continue to support it uncritically and even defend these elements? Because that's not a critic's fault, that's on them for putting their feelings over the harm LO causes.

3. “The immortal dating pool was microscopic and is still tiny” youse guys (the gods/goddesses) are just racist and don’t want to admit it

From OP: Like, I get not wanting to date someone who isn’t immortal but (correct me if I’m wrong) the gods can make them immortal. Plus, there probably is a good amount of gods in LO that we haven’t seen. RS is no stranger to pairing random gods/nymphs together anyway.

4. i agree w/ other anon. legality does not automatically make a relationship good or healthy. its legal to marry your first cousin in most of the world, is that ok now? child marriage is still legally allowed in several countries including 44 US states, if that ok now because its "legal"? Because by their logic it should be!

5. Teenagers always kin Persephone…oh, I wonder why? 🤔

6. Since Artemis is supposed to be a lesbian in LO canon, I’m guessing RS is going to reveal she is another member of Persephone’s Simp Squad😂EVERYBODY has to be in love with the titanic titted highlighter!

7. I'm fairly positive that this has been mentioned before, so my apologies!! But I just recently realized how much inspiration RS seems to draw from Twilight/50 Shades of Grey... like this really just is a self insert into a "mythological" retelling of 50 Shades of Grey and it's... so icky 

8. How can anyone claim RS plans anything out and or keeps track of it when Persephone lived & worked in the Underworld for several days and never once even asked Hades if she could see the dead nymphs, who are claimed to be as good as sisters to her? That would have been one of the easiest ways to foreshadow and show her kindness and she has a life outside of Hades, But nah, she'd rather party and shop instead of visiting the nymphs who are probably part of his shade slave force anyway.

-----FP Spoilers/Mention-----

9. Ok so I know in the beginning and now Rachel keeps using the “write a letter” technique to get them through their issues and all, and that is technically a therapy technique … from the 80s. No actual therapist now uses it since it’s been proven more times than not it’s actually not helpful and often just made the people ignore their easy to solve issues (such as talking to their partner openly and honestly) to instead just play into escapism and ignoring their issues under the guise of “confronting” it. It’s absolutely terrible from an accuracy or healthy standpoint to show this outdated method as peak therapy, but it’s completely accurate in just how bad researched everything else in in the comic. 

10. FP Spoilers: When Ares said this whole trial wasn't about Persephone but about war, I was legit like "wait, WHAT???" Like, where the hell did that come from? What war? Is this alluding to Kronos waking up? If so, how does Zeus know he's coming back, but Hades doesn't? And why would that make Zeus consider giving Persephone to Apollo??? Is the war against Leto and Apollo? That would be a very one-sided battle. I just can't anymore with these out-of-nowhere retcons...

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader -Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 9: Percy Forces Me To Join A Quest

The next morning, Percy moved to cabin three. Luke was the only one I could hang out with from my cabin. He was also the one who took care of my wounds after the thing happened. Nobody mentioned the hellhound, but I got the feeling they were all talking about it behind my back. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that I managed to command a hellhound; and two, I came with the son of Poseidon. They all assume I would be as great as Percy. The other campers steered clear of me as much as possible. Only Luke struck around. Yes, even Percy started ignoring me. I figured it had something to do with water and stuffs. Cabin eleven was too nervous to have sword class with him after what happened in the woods, so he had one-on-one with Luke. I usually sit in to watch them in hopes of Percy talking to me again. But nada. "You're going to need all the training you can get," Luke promised, as they were working with swords and flaming torches. "Now let's try that viper-beheading strike again. Fifty more repetitions." Annabeth still taught Percy and I Greek but on different times I had mine in the mornings. Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill me. I wished she would just yell or punch me or something. I'd rather get into fights every day than be ignored. I stayed with Luke most of my time. We'd gotten close that talking about gods wasn't such a touchy subject. He also told me stuffs about himself, like how he got his scar and small stuffs. I was still in bed in cabin eleven. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn't dreamed that. It was so early that most of the campers were still asleep. "Good morning?" I saw Luke standing near the door. "Eh... good enough I guess." I said sitting on my bed. "It's really boring since I don't do anything." "Not sure if I'm bringing you good news or bad," He smiled taking the seat beside me. "But Mr. D wants to see you." "Really? Will I finally get to do something fun?" "I feel like I should be offended." He gasped dramatically. "Why? Am I not fun?" I laughed, "Pretty much yeah." "Ouch. Anyways, I'd better let him tell you what's up." "Walk with me?" I asked with an UwU face. "I would, but commitment and all that." He joked. "Aight then. I'll get ready, wait for me outside." "I said I won't!" "Geez don't need to be in a hurry. I won't take long." I got dressed and went out to see him with an exaggerated frown. "You better walk fast. I'll leave as soon as you get there." For days, I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that Percy was declared a son of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figured it was a crime for him just to be alive. They're probably suspicious of me now as well with Percy and I's relation. The other gods had probably been debating the best way to punish me for existing, and now Mr. D was ready to deliver their verdict. "So... with Percy being a big three material. What would that make me?" "Well, putting aside the fact that you suck, you drown at every body of water that's at least a foot deep, you don't smell like a half-blood. I'd say you're... one of the big three's. Maybe Zeus's." "Har har. I'm just really worried you know? With Percy getting claimed as Poseidon's... and I came with him. And water just loves me so much. I'd assume I'm somewhere along the lines of Zeus and... Zeus. Is there someone stronger than Zeus?" "Depends on who you asked." "If I asked Zeus he'd definitely answer Zeus." I heard a loud thunder echoed. "Someone's brave." Luke laughed. Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming in our direction. I asked Luke if we needed an umbrella. "No," he said. "It never rains here unless we want it to." "So my kiss under the rain fantasy is a no?" "If it has to be here... probably." I pointed at the storm. "What the heck is that, then?" "Bad news. But don't worry, it'll pass by us." I realized he was right. In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley. But this storm... this one was huge. At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm. When Luke saw the front porch of the Big House. "Whatever they say. Don't choose the option where you'll die." "Half a promise. Depends on the other option." "Well I'll give you an easier promise. Don't die." "Not really easier but okay."

After he ruffled my hair, I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents--two sets of cards hovering in the air. "Y/N!" Grover greeted. "Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity finally got his request." I turned to see Percy who was looking at me and then moved away. I waited for him to greet... "Come closer, both of you," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father." A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house. "Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said. Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. "If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm." "Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in. "Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father." "Mr. D—" Chiron warned. "Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do." Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass. He snapped his fingers. The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, then he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind. Chiron smiled at me, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. You too Y/N and Grover." We did. Grover sat between us. Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use. "Tell me, Percy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?" "It scared me," I said. "If Y/N hadn't told it to stand down, I'd be dead." I saw Percy turn to my direction, which made me roll my eyes. "You'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done." "Done... with what?" "Your quest, of course. Will you accept it?" I glanced at Grover, who was crossing his fingers. "Um, sir," I said, "you haven't told me what it is yet." Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details." Thunder rumbled across the valley. The storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see, the sky and the sea were boiling together. "Poseidon and Zeus," Percy said. "They're fighting over something valuable... something that was stolen, aren't they?". Chiron and Grover exchanged looks. Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?" "The weather since Christmas has been weird, like the sea and the sky are fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And... I've also been having these dreams." "I knew it," Grover said. "Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered. "But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!" "Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt." I laughed. "A what?" "Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives." "Oh." "Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers." "And it's missing?" "Stolen," Chiron said. "By who?" "By whom," Chiron corrected. Once a teacher, always a teacher. "By you." "At least"—Chiron held up a hand—"that's what Zeus thinks. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best', 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly—that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it." "But I didn't—" "Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his son. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus believes he has found his thief." "But I've never even been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!" Chiron and Grover glanced nervously at the sky. The clouds didn't seem to be parting around us, as Luke had promised. They were rolling straight over our valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid. "Er, Percy...?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky." "Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam...." He looked at Percy. Chiron was waiting for an answer. "Something about a golden net?" He answered. "Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods... they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?" "Correct," Chiron said. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've come along—the proverbial last straw." "But I'm just a kid!" "Percy," Grover cut in, "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, that he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon against you.... Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?" "But I didn't do anything. Poseidon—my dad—he didn't really have this master bolt stolen, did he?" Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea God is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But your arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like, Percy?" "Bad?" "Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight." "Bad," I repeated. "And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath." It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the sky. I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of Percy. I was furious. "So he has to find the stupid bolt," I said. "And return it to Zeus." "What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?" "If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?" "I believe I know." Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago... well, some of the lines make sense to me, now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle." "Why can't you tell me where the bolt is beforehand?" "Because if I did, you would be too afraid to accept the challenge." "Good reason." "You agree then?" He looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly. Easy for him. He wasn't the one Zeus wanted to kill. Percy then turned to me, "All right," he said. "But, I'll go when Y/N comes with." "Woah there! I am not going anywhere." I hissed. You ignore me for days and now you want me to die with you now? "Why do I have to go with you?" "Percy---" "I don't want to leave without her." He looked down. I felt guilty about turning him down. Which was stupid since he's the one at fault. I gave a sigh, I hope Luke won't get mad at me. "It's better than you being turned into a dolphin." I mumbled. "I'll go." "Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more." Before Percy came up he took my arm and pulled me in a hug. "I wanted you there, so we could save our parents together. After this quest, you me your mom and dad and my mom, will stay together." I hugged him back and nodded. "Thank you." Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trapdoor. Percy pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place. After he went up. Chiron turned to me. "Hmm? Something to say?" I asked in a hopefully not rude tone. "I've had enough of people staring at me thinking, I summoned that hellhound." "Y/N, I assure you I don't think you'd do that. I am just confused as to why it followed your command." "Did you maybe forget to tell us something? I really can't seem to find out who you are." "Well... I don't think I forgot to mention anything. Maybe the fact that water hates me, I've never been on a plane, and I am low-key kinda scared of the dark depending on the situation." "Water hates you?" Grover asked. "First time swimming, beach, I was 5. I drowned at a supposedly 3 feet deep water. I haven't been near any bodies of water ever since. Until I met Percy, I drowned at the beach again. If I wasn't mistaken I was few meters away from the water and it pulled me and I almost drowned." "It would seem, Poseidon hates you. Why would he?" "My parents must've realized that fish god hates me and didn't take chances on the others." I could tell Chiron wanted to continue but Percy came down, "Well?" Chiron asked. He slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. I could see he wasn't happy. "Are you okay?" I asked him. He looked at me warily and nodded. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen." Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!" "What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important." "She . .. she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned." "I knew it," Grover said... Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?" "No," He said. "That's about it." I took a hold of Percy's hand. And he gave me a look that said, 'I'll tell you later.' "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass." "Okay," I said, anxious to change topics. "So where do we go? Who's this god in the west?" "Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?" "Somebody else who wants to take over?" he guessed. "Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken." I thought about my dreams, the evil voice that had spoken from under the ground. "Hades." Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility." A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?" "A Fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades." "Yes, but—but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested. "Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon... ." "A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest." "Great," Percy muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me." "Hey, I beat you, I got all of them." I smirked. I was trying to lighten up the mood and Percy finally cracked a smile. "But a quest to..." Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year." "Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth." A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. I wasn't feeling scared of anything right now. I felt like I could face anything. I was ready to take him on. Anyone in a matter of fact. Besides, if my mom and dad might be in the Underworld... which would be unlikely. Who knows maybe I could bribe him and talk him into reviving them. Or what if he's misunderstood? What if there's a plot twist somewhere here, and it actually wasn't Hades's fault? Grover was trembling. He'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips. The poor guy needed to complete a quest with us so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that was. This was suicide. "Look, if we know it's Hades," Percy told Chiron, "why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads." "It might not be him you know." I added. "She's right, suspecting and knowing are not the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades—and I imagine Poseidon does—they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other's territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?" "You're saying I'm being used." "I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs you." "Damn, my parent doesn't? I'm going on a deadly quest thanks to Arthur Curry right here. Least they could do is support me and let me know They'll be proud of me saving the world." I huffed. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?" "I had my suspicions. As I said... I've spoken to the Oracle, too." I got the feeling there was a lot he wasn't telling us about his prophecy, but I decided I couldn't worry about that right now. After all, I was holding back information too. "So let me get this straight," I said. "We're supposed go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead." "Check," Chiron said. "Find the most powerful weapon in the universe." "Check." "And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days." "That's about right." Percy and I looked at each other then we looked over at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts. "Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly. "You don't have to go," Percy told him. "I can't ask that of you. "Oh..." He shifted his hooves. "No... it's just that satyrs and underground places... well..." He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his T-shirt. "You saved my life, Percy. Both of you did. If... if you're serious about wanting me along, I won't let you down." I felt so relieved I wanted to cry, though I didn't think that would be very heroic. I wasn't sure what good a satyr could do against the forces of the dead, but I felt better knowing he'd be with us. "All the way, G-man." Percy turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west." "The entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it's in America." "Where?" Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles." "Oh," I said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plane—" "No!" Grover shrieked. "Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?" I shook my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash. "We're not allowed to fly because Zeus is a stuck up who doesn't want others touching his stuff without permission." "Y/N!" Grover panicked when loud thunder echoed above us. I wanted to yell, 'Oh shut up thunder boy.' But I still wanted try fulfilling my promise to Luke with all I can. "Percy, think," Chiron said. "You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive." Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed. "Okay," I said, determined not to look at the storm. "So, I'll travel overland." "That's right," Chiron said. "Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other is Y/N. But someone else has already volunteered, if you will accept her help." "Gee," I said, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?" The air shimmered behind Chiron. Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket. "I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. "Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up." "I'll gladly give you my spot and all but... Percy and I are a duo." I lifted my fist which he bumped. "But she's right, we can't leave the world at the hands of two idiots and a scaredy-cat." "Can't we have four people on a quest?" "You can also pick more than two people to join, but this is considered dangerous as three is a sacred number. Any more than three on a quest could result in a catastrophe, including a member of the quest going missing, dying, or the quest failing." "Willing to risk it Peabody?" She gave me a glare. No. I assure you no one shall be lost in this quest. They were all looking at me weirdly. "What did you say?" "I asked if you were willing to risk it...?" I was confused. "Y/N you're doing it again." "Doing what? I am literally not doing anything wrong. Wanna fite me? I will back out of this quest." I gave an exaggerated glare. Annabeth turned to Chiron, who was looking down on me. "I suppose... if Percy is willing to risk it and all parties approve. I could allow this as a four person quest." "Well, I call not it to the dying person." I raised my hand. "But you can come Peabody. We need a not so stupid guy." "Well, if she say yes..." "I-I... don't really..." "I want to come." "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?" Her cheeks colored. "Do you want my help or not?" "A quartet," I said. "Hopefully it works." "Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own." Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather. "No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing." I took Percy's hand and gave him a look to remind him about his quest. "I'll tell you later."

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