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audreyscribes · 3 months ago

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Ω PJO MISC. DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:🍇 THALIA “PLENTIFUL/LUXURIANT” GODDESS OF FESTIVITY AND BANQUETS 🎉{wave 3.5}

Here's the final, long-awaited Charities and the most funniest and convulted one too. You saw the Thalia Muse demigod hc, I think you can guess what's this one is going to be like. MISCELLANEOUS DEMIGOD H/CS MASTERLIST LINK: [TUMBLR] || [AO3]

Be prepared for even more ridiculous, wackiest mistaken hijinks to exist at Camp Halfblood and Camp Jupiter. If you have read the Muse’s Thalia demigod H/Cs, then that’s just the tip of the iceberg. People are going to think you’re related to Thalia Grace, the lieutenant of Artemis, the demigod daughter of Zeus, and if that wasn’t bad enough, you’re going to be mistaken with the child of Thalia, the demigod child of the Muse Thalia, and vise-versa. Even if you try to differentiate between Thalia the Muse or The Charity, people will still misunderstand the demigod Thalia Grace. Especially the Romans at Camp Jupiter refer to the Charities as the Graces. Even then, there are some people who interchange Thalia with Charity or Grace.

If you’re a person who prefers harmony, being a child of Thalia would be right for you as Thalia was described as being a “Darling of Harmony”. That and you have perfect harmony for music and dancing as well.

In terms of resemblance with our gods and their demigods, the demigod of Thalia would be the children of Demeter, in terms of that Thalia also means ‘plentiful; plentiful; abundant” which sounds quite like Demeter with her being the goddess of Harvest and Fertility. Both are responsible for banquets and great feasts and with the child of Thalia’s aspect of power, they brings plenty to the table as well as bountiful crops from the fields.

I can also see the child of Thalia having some resemblance to Hestia as well; or what they stand for. As we know Hestia is responsible for the hearth and she gets every bit of everything that is sacrificed to the gods, so she provides and gains plenty. It may be a bit of a stretch, but I like the idea that the child of Thalia pays tribute and respect to Hestia (more so then the average) because without the Hearth, there would be no warm flame to cook the food nor light the banquets, providing festivity with her flames in times of dark times or to signal a bright occasion.

The child of Thalia has no major power to speak of, aside from minor fertility powers that lean more to growth, but you keep the energy alive and help increase and maintain people’s spirits. This is quite useful in low points in time or keeping a soldier's morale up when in battle. You are quite a people’s person regardless how you define yourself.

Power-wise, its possible to inherit the power of joy where you can make people feel joy. Make them see the positive in things. It also means you have a very infectious giggle and laugh. If you laugh or giggle, people can’t help doing the same. A smile will also do the same thing as well. Then again, you don’t really need to rely on your powers to make people feel a little bit of joy because you can do it without it.

Because The Charity Thalia is associated with Festivities and Banquets, you develop a sense of planning for events. It’s not out of the question that you often help Mr. D and Chiron for these events, making sure things go smoothly or when things go off the rails (which often do when demigods are involved), there is always a plan in place. You also can be found planning or holding impromptu events ranging not just dinner parties or tea parties, but stuff like Karoke battle, dance offs, or even a skipping rope contest (though probably not anymore because Chiron strongly suggested not using burning rope to make things more interesting).

“The Fates have to be messing with us” you groaned into your hands, head also thrown back as you tried to trick yourself this was just a bad dream. However, even a dream wouldn’t be this convoluted.

You took away your eyes as you saw Thalia Grace, the demigod daughter of Zeus and lieutenant of Artemis’ Huntresses, and the other child of Thalia, but their mother was the Muse goddess of Comedy.

It was a complete circus when you were claimed and all the campers were so confused when you were announced to be the “Daughter of Thalia”. Little did you know, there was a famous camper named Thalia, who was present at your claiming, and when Chiron tried to clarify again that you were the daughter of the Thalia, the goddess-

Everyone’s ADHD brain and mouth went to the Muse goddess, and turned to the Muse demigod child of Thalia, then Chiron said it was the other goddess, a roman camper who was visiting opened their mouth and said “You mean Thalia, the Grace?”

People’s brains went back to Thalia Grace, the demigod daughter of Zeus-

Chiron then had to interrupt loudly that, no, he was talking about the Charity Thalia, and the use of the Graces was used by the Romans-

It also didn’t help that your claim symbol was very similar to the Muse goddess of Thalia, and Chiron had just convinced Mr. D send word to Olympus so they could track down both Thalias, and had to convince Hermes to find and ask about which Thalia you were the child of.

“I wonder if my mother had any idea about my name and this was all intentional, or Zeus was the one who named me” said Thalia in frustration. “If it was really Zeus who named me, then I wanna say dad you have the worst naming choices because both the muse and charity Thalia are both his daughters too. Wasn’t two enough?!”

“Well, all things come in three” joked the demigod child of the Muse Thalia.

“Don’t-”

“You have to admit, there is something funny about this” you pointed out, chuckling while giving a wry smile.

“Oh Artemis, give me strength” muttered Thalia Grace.

The door to the Big House meeting room opened and there was an unknown man with a wide mischievous smile at the front, greeting with “Hello, sister and cousins!” as he walked in with Chiron right behind him.

“Lord Hermes” greeted Thalia as she got up, to bow while the rest of you copied her.

“Please” he said as he waved and then suddenly there were two envelopes between his fingers. “I won’t be too long because packages and mails to be delivered and picked up, but this was too funny to not come myself; so ta-dah~”

All three mortals in the room groaned at Hermes’ obvious enjoyment out of this whole scenario. “Okay, so I managed to find both Thalias, one of them was busy with Aprhodite who was also with Ares, and boy, they did not appreciate me crashing on their little romantic date, and the muses were whipping up a bit of a lovely chorus with Apollo, which kind delayed everything because last time I interrupted Apollo’s music with the Muses, it was not pretty but hey I managed to talk my way out of it-”

There was a polite cough from Chiron and Hermes grinned. “But I got the words straight and both Thalias told me that they did at one point like the same mortal man-”

Both demigods of Thalia stiffened at the sudden throw back. They immediately turned to each other, balking at the incoming info that they may still be half-siblings but just with different mothers.

“-but I reminded them of the year you both were born and what year it was, where you were born, you know the boring tidbits, and said no, you two aren’t related.”

Everyone let out a sigh of relief and the tension in their body was gone, making them drop in their seats. You placed your face in your hands and were tremoring with pent up laughter.

“So, my mother is Thalia of the Charities?” you asked for clarification.

Hermes nodded before handing over the envelope, to each of you. “The details are here and they filled out a sort of birth certificate, just in case this happens again. Eileithyia was also there coincidentally so she also helped clarify your births.”

You took the envelope and opened it. It looked like a regular birth certificate but there was a signature of your godly mother, as well as signed by Eileithyia confirming your birth.

“Wait, so does everyone on Olympus knows about this?” asked Thalia.

“Ohhhhh yeah” Hermes drawled out with an ever bigger grin. “Which I gotta say, its been so long since we’ve had such fun about whose demigod was without it all being some major drama; not that I wouldn’t listen in myself.”

Both respective children of Thalia groaned as everyone else laughed. This was just going to be the beginning of what your life at camp was going to be like.

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kohakhearts · 5 months ago

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#3 for ihantcest (hope I spelled that right)

#3: "i don't want your pity, i want your absence." wc: 1 935 read on ao3 here

Hubert should’ve known his brother would find him out here.

Of course, even when they were young Asbel was never really the sensitive, thoughtful type. But his penchant for getting involved in things he shouldn’t has always been more than enough to pull him into people’s orbits at the worst of times. Perhaps this is why he was always so successful at pissing off their father, whom more and more Hubert suspects he has taken after in all matters of, at the very least, emotion.

Not Asbel, though, who spots him from the steps leading away from the inn and doesn’t stop even for one moment to consider Hubert might be outside, alone, because he does not want company.

All Hubert can do is sigh and accept his fate as Asbel settles down on the bench beside him. Above their heads, the arch of one of Yu Liberté’s famous fountains chills the air; Hubert tries very hard not to let himself appreciate the way his brother’s body heat chases it away.

“Can’t sleep, huh?”

Hubert resolutely does not look at him. “Obviously,” he says.

“Is it because of that girl? The gem polisher?”

Hubert starts. His resolve fails immediately as he turns to fix a baffled look on his brother, whose head is tilted to the side in a show of his curiosity. There is no judgement to it; he really does just want to know.

“Marian? Why in the world would you think that?”

“Well, I don’t know. You’ve been acting kind of weird ever since we helped her out. Cheria said we shouldn’t say anything, but if you’re losing sleep over her…”

Of course, Cheria must have all kinds of ideas about his history with a woman he took enough interest in to gift her something as personal as a set of tools. But not unlike Cheria herself, Marian was always something of an open book; and if Hubert had no choice but to stay on the path they were walking together when they met, the least he could have done in the moment was help someone else realize her dreams were not quite so unattainable. It worked out for them all in the end, so he doesn’t see much point in dwelling on the fact that he was paying close enough attention to her to let himself care what she wanted in the first place.

Realizing his silence is likely only reinforcing whatever ridiculous notions about him Cheria has planted in Asbel’s head, he says, stiffly, “Even if I had had any interest in her, we have long since gone our separate ways. As far as I’m concerned, we may as well be strangers now.”

“But being apart from someone for a long time doesn’t mean you don’t care for them anymore, does it?”

Hubert tenses. He did not want to have this conversation when they reunited in Lhant, and he does not want to have it now.

Asbel doesn’t really give him a choice, though.

“I mean, I feel the same about you as I ever did,” he goes on. “And Cheria, and Richard, and even Sophie. I think it’s okay to admit when you missed someone, Hubert.”

“You are completely missing the point, as usual.”

Asbel blinks. “I am?”

“I have no special feelings for her,” Hubert says. “And I don’t see what you would have to do with it if I did, in any case.”

“If not her, then was there anybody?”

Hubert bites back another sigh. Asbel’s well-meaning probing is landing far too close for comfort, in spite of his misguided aim.

“No,” Hubert says. “I have never had the time to bother with such…frivolous affairs.”

Asbel looks aghast. “Didn’t you have any friends, Hubert?”

That’s what he meant? Hubert shouldn’t even be surprised; his brother wouldn’t know romance if it slapped him directly across the face…and Hubert wouldn’t put that past Cheria, though that thought unsettles him, too, for reasons he wishes sorely it would not.

“Hubert?”

He turns a glare on his brother. “What difference does it make whether or not I did? Obviously, I had greater priorities than socializing for the sake of socializing.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Asbel frowns at him. “But you must’ve been lonely. Right?”

“Enough of this.” Hubert stands, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks at a spot just above Asbel’s head rather than his eyes as he says, “I don’t want your pity, brother. I want your absence.”

The flower behind the bench he has locked his gaze on is not enough to keep him from seeing the flash of hurt across his brother’s face.

But just when he expects—hopes?—Asbel will argue, he does not. He rises from the bench. His voice is very soft: “It’s okay. I know things are different than they used to be. Good night, Hubert.”

Hubert’s damned, traitorous heart leaps up into his throat as Asbel turns to walk away. Desperation spurs him forward, until his hand finds Asbel’s; and the shock of warmth ought to humiliate him, ought to encourage him to push Asbel away all over again, but he simply cannot bring himself to pull back. Asbel turns, eyes wide as they meet his.

“Is something wrong?” he asks after a moment, when Hubert is unable to force any words between his clenched teeth.

At once, Hubert retracts his hand, putting it and the other safely behind his back. Tied up with each other, just in case the near-overwhelming desire to reach out, to touch, rears its ugly head again.

“I should be asking you that,” Hubert mutters. “I didn’t mean I want you gone. I just…thought to be alone, for a while.”

“It’s okay, Hubert. Really. I know…for a long time now, you haven’t really—had a brother anymore.” Though it clearly pains him to do so, Asbel offers him a reassuring smile. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. Whatever I can do to make it easier…”

But the problem is not anything Asbel is doing, or has done. It is—a fantasy Hubert has had since their father put him on that ship with Garrett Oswell away from everything he had ever known. A dream he has had so many times since he has lost count. This shockwave of warmth now, the infuriating realization that Asbel has grown into such a beautiful, charming young man, and yet still he is Hubert’s brother. He has loved him and he has hated him and now he does not want to confront the depth of emotion just being near him sets surging forth, but all the same he cannot seem to rid himself of the desire to be close. As close as possible. Like they are children again sharing a bed because Hubert couldn’t sleep, Asbel’s arm wrapped around his torso to hold him in place against him. Their bodies flush against each other.

Of course Hubert was lonely. But until Asbel was standing right in front of him, he had never had a problem just ignoring it. Always, always, there was something of higher importance; and by all means that should be more true now than ever.

And yet.

Asbel’s watching him intently, waiting. But patience has never come easily to him, and so after a few awkward beats, he asks, “Do you…want me to stay?”

Hubert drops his gaze. His cheeks sting and sear. “Do what you like. It makes no difference to me.”

“Well…okay. If you’re sure.” He hesitates, and then: “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I…I was lonely, too, you know. Without you, I mean.”

The heat climbs higher. He turns away, lest Asbel take notice of it. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m being serious!” Asbel protests. “I wrote you all the time after I started at the academy. I think all I ever talked about in those letters was how much I missed having you around. I stopped writing them when I realized you weren’t going to reply, but I still thought about it a lot. And I guess I just hoped wherever you were, you’d found someone to replace me.”

Hubert takes a moment to digest this—he never received any letters from Asbel as a child, but he doubts he would have wanted to read them even if they had reached him, too afraid that he would find out something he wouldn’t have wanted to know. Something that would shatter the fantasy, as if the reality were not already abundantly clear to him.

Then, he has to admit, “You’re not so easily replaced, as it turns out.”

Though he’s not looking at him, he can hear the grin in Asbel’s voice: “So you did miss me.”

“I suppose I did,” but it is different, of course, than Asbel thinks. If it were just this, the desire to have a brother again, he would not have been awake tonight with all this dread weighing down on him. He would be able to take Cheria’s knowing looks in stride, because at least he would not burn with the compulsion to prove she has him all wrong.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him away from those thoughts. He twists back to see his brother, that soft, compassionate smile lighting up his eyes. The water reflects off of them, so they glisten with all his infuriating earnestness.

And it’s really not fair how a simple touch makes Hubert’s breath flee him. How the heat from Asbel’s hand above his sleeve is enough to drive warmth all the way down into his feet. He is arrested by it; his brother’s ridiculous, loving gaze. How simple things could be if Hubert had felt this for Marian, or any of the nameless—advantageous for them, for the Oswell name—girls his father had ever introduced him to. But he has learned to see the gleam of yearning behind them all. Everyone wants something they believe they can’t attain. Once you find it, any power they may have held over you switches hands. This is human nature: cold and calculable and easily manipulated.

“We should get some sleep,” Asbel says. His hand is still on Hubert’s shoulder, like he does not have the will to remove it. But that’s just wishful thinking.

A beat passes before Hubert can bring himself to nod. At his assent, Asbel pulls away, finally. He takes a step back, and waits. It is a courtesy he has rarely afforded Hubert before, but time has forced them all to change. And yet, as hard as he has worked to kill the compulsion since coming to Strahta, alone, Hubert follows after him.

They do not speak as Asbel leads them back up to the steps to the inn. Nothing has been resolved, and, if anything, Hubert feels worse than he did before he decided to get up and leave their shared room, Asbel’s suffocating presence, behind.

But when Hubert eases the door of that room closed behind them and Asbel says, very quietly, “Night, Hubert,” he cannot help relishing in the feeling of it. As if the sensation of drowning were really so pleasant.

He bites down on the impulse to say more. To reach out, to pull him closer. His desires surge and then retreat when they can find no hold over his will. With not another word, he returns to bed and closes his eyes and pushes his thoughts down, far down, as far as they will go.

He understands better than anyone just how unattainable one’s desires can really be.

#lhantcest #incest //#for anyone who has that tag blocked but not the specific ship #*fic #mine #*reqs #tales of #graces #i was trying so hard to make them have a feelings revelation but asbel's too oblivious and hubert's too repressed lol #we'll get 'em next time </3 #thanks bro<3<3 #answered #natostine

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