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thecinnamonr0ll · 11 hours
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*Nico losing about half his blood*
*Will:* Nice we need to give you blood! What’s your type?
*Percy (across the camp):* It ain’t me!
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thecinnamonr0ll · 17 days
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This is so true!! I love the TOA because of the character growth and the challenges inside of it, I’ve seen people say “oh HOO is so good” or “TOA isn’t that good because Apollo would never change” or something along those lines, but ToA is so good, I love the personalities of the characters and how much Apollo grows as a character.
just want to make my stance on this clear- i am a very big supporter of the “trials of apollo is way better than heroes of olympus”
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thecinnamonr0ll · 17 days
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toapril day 1 — missed target
would this have ever been a good idea?
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thecinnamonr0ll · 18 days
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TOApril Day 28 - Definition of Family
Petition to get Rick Riordan to bring back Camp Halfblood beads
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thecinnamonr0ll · 18 days
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Hysterics
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thecinnamonr0ll · 19 days
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Absent No More
Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Apollo, Cabin Seven Not much changed, after Zeus was destroyed, but for a certain group of people, they got the change they'd always wanted. TOApril day 3 - Divine Intervention! Some credit goes to @fearlessinger for today's prompt interpretation, because she was the one to suggest the Ancient Laws, so here we are!
Most things didn’t change.  It was weird, for the mortals in the know, the demigods that knew the king of the gods was gone forever, that Olympus was without her ruler.  It felt like there should be some sign that things had changed, but rain still fell, lightning still lashed across the sky, and whatever power vacuum may or may not have been going on in Olympus never touched their lives at all.
If not for the gap in the original horseshoe of the twelve Olympic cabins, where cabin one had once stood, they could almost, almost forget that Zeus was gone.
Except for one thing.  One small thing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, barely worth a mention, hardly a footnote in the story of the Olympian uprising and subsequent consequences.
Small and insignificant to most, but not to all.  To some people, great in number but barely a splash in the ocean that was the human population of the world, it was huge, on a scale they’d never dared to dream before.  For many of them, it was all they’d ever wanted.
For the woman in South Korea with her own dance studio that accepted students of any age and taught some of them how to turning fighting dances into fighting, it was the helper that regularly came by to give all her students an extra bit of guidance.  It was suggestions on who needed more help, or dance props that happened to include aspects of certain rare, celestial metals.
For the man in Canada, it was procedures that went perfectly and the doctor that never left his side, holding his hand as he woke up slowly with the knowledge that he was never going to feel sick if he caught sight of his bare body in a mirror again.  It was celebrations and affirmations and whole-hearted acceptance, gentle hugs light enough not to agitate still-healing flesh but firm enough to be all-encompassing anyway.
For the royal bowman in Scotland, it was the company he found waiting at home after a long day of practice, either parade or combat, with a warm meal and chores all already done.  It was hair ruffles and a large, bright smile, and the soothing of aching muscles with simple touches.
For the librarian in Germany, it was the patron that came by every day, smile as bright as the sun and always a stack of books to return.  It was long conversations on authors, on recommendations, and the fresh stack of books checked out at the end of the day, right before she clocked out to go home, and the way she was always walked to her door.
For the actress pulling long hours to make ends meet, it was the dedicated make-up artist that always ended up working on her, no matter the role, and told her stories as she watched her transformation in the mirror.  It was the way the ugly scar on her face from where she’d once tried to fight for what was right never counted against her in auditions, and smoothed away to nothing with a simple touch of foundation.
For the lawyer that had had to fight every step of the way to her position because of her gender and the colour of her skin, it was the assistant that floated past her office every day to bring her drinks and make sure the case notes were always in order, even when her dyslexia made her want to throw them out the window.  It was forced breaks and warm rolls straight from the oven of her favourite bakery for no reason other than being loved.
For the brothers that played basketball for opposing teams because their greatest challenge had always been the other, it was the cheering in the crowd for both of them equally, because no matter how serious it got it was still just a game, and family didn’t pick sides.  It was post-match celebratory drinks, always on the tab, no matter the result, just because.
For the doctor it was the shoulder to try on whenever he had to give a patient bad news, when all the training and skill in the world couldn’t spare patients trauma.  It was the way he never, ever got sick despite the near constant exposure to illnesses, so he could always be there to give others the best care possible.
For the farmer that had fled from war to raise sheep instead, it was dawn wake-up calls and an extra pair of hands when the animals couldn’t settle.  It was lambs surviving their birthing and thriving even when other farms struggled with high mortality rates and animals struggling to adapt to the ever-shifting environment.
For the poet tearing her hair out over her latest publishing deal, it was soothing hands massaging away the headache while a melodic voice recited her writing back at her, assuring her that her words were flawless.  It was the way the deals always made it through, in the end, and made her enough money that she never had to give it up in order to find another, better, job to make ends meet.
For the healer surrounded by children with weapons they were still learning to use, it was a helping hand in the infirmary, and a bright hug when the last mischievous teenager that had thought they knew how to handle weapons better than they did was gone.  It was falling asleep during nighttime vigils and waking up with the sun to find blankets and golden company keeping watch while he rested.
For the saxophonist it was the accompanying instrumentalist giving him a proud grin that had teeth too white to be natural as he came off stage, because the performance had gone off without a hitch, and the second, private recital for just the two of them.  It was the way his instruments always stayed perfect and in-tune, never suffering misfortune on journeys from venue to venue.
For the Olympic champion it was a beaming face in the crowd as she won competition after competition, toppling world records and making them her own, and two male voices proudly claiming her as their daughter for the world to hear.  It was one-on-one shooting, where they did things most mortals didn’t dream could be done with a bow and laughed the whole way through.
For the historian always finding themselves in the deepest depths of archives, it was the gentle light that was always bright enough to read by, but never damaged the precious manuscripts they poured over.  It was the listening ear as they recited what they’d discovered, to make sense of it, and the quiet confirmations of someone that had been there when the history had been written – or knew someone who had.
For the bowler who also picked up a bat, because not everyone in the team could bowl but they all had to be able to hit the ball, it was the perfect lighting whenever he made the run, always in his favour and never in the batsman’s.  It was the same person catching the ball over and over, when he hit a six and it sailed into the crowd.
For the drum teacher, it was the way she always had new students signing up to learn whenever she had a vacancy, eager to learn from her.  It was the way she could always talk about them, celebrating when they worked hard and got to where they wanted to be with their music, or asking for help when a student was struggling and she didn’t quite know how to help them, knowing that there was always help available for her.
For Apollo’s children, whatever walks of life they ended up taking, it was their godly father finally being there in their waking hours as well as their dreams, wherever and whenever they needed them.  They’d always known they were loved, but knowing it and experiencing it, it turned out, were two entirely different things, and while he never explained exactly why he’d started being more around after his own father’s destruction, they all had their suspicions.
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thecinnamonr0ll · 19 days
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ToApril Day 1: "Missed Target"
Summary:
Lightning never strikes the same place twice, she wanted to say. But given Apollo’s reaction to the lightning
 she didn’t suppose that was entirely true for him.
“I’m sorry,” Thalia repeated, trying to take deep breaths in and out. “It’s okay, the storm is just me, we’re safe, I’m sorry-”
OR:
Thalia accidentally summons a thunderstorm when she finds out Apollo's secret.
Happy ToApril!!!
@toapril-official
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thecinnamonr0ll · 20 days
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TOApril Day 1 - Missed Target
«What about you? How exactly did you
 uh, do all this?”
I suppose he was talking about the piles of ash and rice, the broken chairs and control panels, and the blood of my enemies decorating the walls and the carpet. I tried not to laugh like a lunatic. “Just lucky?”» (TON, chapter 26)
Tfw an entire group of evil bodyguards tries to kill you but you're a literal god
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thecinnamonr0ll · 20 days
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april fools day is actually the most sensible day of the year because it's the only day on which people will read something on the internet and stop for a second to consider whether or not it's actually true
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thecinnamonr0ll · 21 days
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This was supposed to be for yesterday's prompt of TOApril but since it's far more related to TSATS than to TOA here it is as random art 😔👊
Take this as a "TSATS but Apollo doesn't revert back to being an absent father" AU
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thecinnamonr0ll · 21 days
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Which percabeth do you prefer?
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thecinnamonr0ll · 22 days
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latino will solace nation
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thecinnamonr0ll · 22 days
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Rachel: I love murder mysteries
Percy, trying to impress her: I've been a suspect in four murder cases
Rachel:
Percy: this year
Rachel:
Percy: i forgot to keep track last year
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thecinnamonr0ll · 23 days
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zeus: ok, you broke the pact. what’s done is done. just tell me which abilities you gave him, so at least i know what we’re dealing with
poseidon: ...all of them
zeus: ok but from which of your roles? sea god, stormbringer, or earthshaker?
poseidon: ...all of them
zeus:
zeus: you’re not serisouly telling me he has domain over air and land and the sea?
poseidon: er, actually, it’s not just the sea. any water, really. lakes, rivers, ice, plumbing,...potentially bodily fluids...
zeus: you- WHY DID- WHAT WERE YOU-
zeus: *takes a deep breath*
zeus: anything else?
poseidon: *looks at list*
poseidon: er, yes. he immediately heals when he touches water.
zeus: what?
poseidon: well, you know, i figured with all the danger he’ll face, potential child of the prophecy and all, he should be able to automatically regenerate
zeus: that- that’s not even a thing!
poseidon: well...it is now!
zeus:
poseidon:
zeus:
poseidon: he can also speak to horses
zeus: *throws lightning bolt at the wall*
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thecinnamonr0ll · 23 days
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*Will attempting to flirt with Nico (and failing miserably but Nico still likes him?)*
Percy: *Gives Annabeth 20$* I was so sure Nico would make the first move
Annabeth: That’s why I’m the daughter of Athena, Seaweed brain
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thecinnamonr0ll · 23 days
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Will: My siblings and I are trying to piece together our father’s life based on the horrific anecdotes he’ll casually tell us and then never bring up again.
Apollo: Did I ever tell you guys about that one time I was almost cast into Tartarus by my father?
Kayla, whispering frantically: Write that one down!
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thecinnamonr0ll · 24 days
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Aphrodite: You know, Hyacinthus gives Apollo flowers all the time, I wish you’d do that too.
Ares: Okay.
-Later-
Ares: *Gives Apollo flowers*
Apollo: ?? Thank? You??
Ares: I am just as confused as you are.
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