#. ✧ . * . ˚ ( HERACLES JONES )

[polhfantasma]

trying to practice diferent faces and ending up drawing hetalia characters again!

I really like how Greece turned out ! Also came to the realisation I hadn’t drawn Italy in years.

The sketches in person are quite small I fit all of them in one a5 page haha

[coralcatsea]

Headcanon 1: Greece has a bunch of statues at his house.

Headcanon 2: America likes to put cheap party necklaces and hats on them. If they're holding out their hand, he'll leave candy or some kind of trinket in it.

Free Day

@hetalia-rarepairweek

[athenaeum-of-the-herald]

I'm so happy so many people have found my tiny library useful! l've added a few more books for everyone!

Books Inside:

Ancient Greek Religion Jon D. Mikalson

Ancient Greek Cults Jennifer Larson

Ancient Greek Divination Sarah /les Johnston

The Odyssey Homer

The Homeric Hymns A Translation, with Introduction and Notes by Rayor Diane J

The llyad Homer translated by Stanley Lombardo

Apollodorus The Library, Volumes 1 and Il Sir James George Frazer

The Orphic Hymns Athanassakis

Creators, Conquerors, and Citizens

A History of Ancient Greece Robin Waterfield

The Oxford Handbook of Ancient Greek Religion Esther Eidinow and Julia Kindt

A Companion to Greek Religion Daniel Ogden

Theogony Hesiod

( donated by @angieisreading )

Magika Hiera Ancient Greek Magic and Religion Christopher A. Faraone, Dirk Obbink

Antigone, Oedipus the King, Electra Sophocles, H.D.F. Kitto, Edith Hall

The Bacchantes Euripides

The Oresteia Agamemnon The Libation Bearers The Eumenides Aeschylus W. B. Stanford, Robert Fagles

Euripides II Andromache, Hecuba, the Suppliant Women, Electra The Complete Greek Tragedies - Euripides II

Sophocles Oedipus Rex

Medea Euripides, Michael Collier, Georgia Machemer

Aristophanes Clouds, Women at the Thesmophoria, Frogs A Verse Translation, with Introduction and Notes Stephen Halliwell

Heracles of Euripides Euripides Michael R. Halleran

Euripides Iphigenia at Aulis Christopher Collard James Morwood

Lysistrata Aristophanes, Jeffrey Henderson

(donated by @anyrisse )

Women's Dress in the Ancient Greek World Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones

Underworld Gods in Ancient Greek Religion Ellie Mackin Roberts

Understanding Greek Religion Jennifer Larson

The Gods of Ancient Greece Jan N. Bremmer and Andrew Erskine

Restless Dead Sarah Isles Johnston

Myths of the Underworld Journey Radcliffe G. Edmonds III

Marriage to Death Rush Rehm

Greek Religion Walter Burkert

Greek Popular Religion in Greek Philosophy Jon D. Mikalson

Greek Magic J.C.B. Petropoulos

Greek and Roman Necromancy Daniel Qgden

Gods and Garments Cecile Brøns

Bride of Hades to Bride of Christ Abbe Lind Walker

Aphrodite's Tortoise Lloyd Llewellyn-Jones

Ancient Mystery Cults Walter Burkert

Ancient Greek Love Magic Christopher A. Faraone

Cult of Aphrodite Laurelei Black

Aphrodite's Priestess Laurelei Black

Festivals of Attica: An Archaeological Commentary Erika Simon

Games and sanctuaries in Ancient Greece Panos Valavanis translated by David Harty

Divine Mania Alteration of Consciousness in Ancient Greece Yulia Ustinova

Omens and oracles Divination in ancient Greece Matthew Dillon

Cults and Rites in Ancient Greece Essays on Religion and Society Michael H. Jameson, Allaire B. Stallsmith etc.

Pharnabazos, the Diviner of Hermes. Two Ostraka with Curse Letters from Olbia Andrei Lebedev

Some are pdfs and some are epubs but all of them are free for your reading enjoyment and learning!

l'll be adding more as time goes on and at the requests and suggestions of others so if you think something is missing or have a request please don't hesitate to ask me to add it!

As usual a massive thank you to Lord Hermes Dôtor Eaôn/Lord Hermes Arkhos Phêlêteôn for the idea, this library is a dedication and offering to him and adding to it is all in his name ♡

[francisbonnefoyforreal]

I don't.. know?? I got lost and ended up in a random village??

guys.... im running late and forgot to book flights, which country is the meeting in again??

[olympeline]

Nations having human names is kinda odd when you think about it. You’d expect their people to just call them by their official names or else “motherland” or “fatherland.” So, here’s me coming in with a headcanon about where these human names come from (´∀｀)

A nation’s legal name, the one used on treaties and trade deals, can change over time. Or be different depending on who’s speaking. Germany is Deutschland to some his friends, Japan is Nihon at home, exonyms vs. endonyms, kingdoms become republics, yadda, yadda. But a nation’s human name - their gifted name - is forever. I call it “gifted” because it’s given to them not by the politics of the world, but by one of their citizens. One of their best and brightest. A son or daughter any of them could be proud of. Any human can try giving a nation a name, but if it isn’t the right one it won’t stick.

The first nation to get a human name was China when he met Confucius. They encountered each other on the road one evening waaay back around 467BC when the philosopher was on his way home. They talked, shared tea, and Confucius called China “Yao Wang” for the first time. China couldn’t explain it, but he just knew this was his name. Knew deep in his soul

Greece was second. He marched with Alexander the Great and finished the campaign as Heracles Karpusi. When the other ancient nations heard the news they were all very excited. Except Yao, who was put out that he wasn’t unique anymore lol. Then gifted names were officially “a thing” that nation people eagerly waited for. I imagine their naming days are very fondly remembered along with the human who was there for them. A few examples throughout history:

Russia knelt before Catherine the Great and rose up again as Ivan Braginsky.

Spain was invited to read a first draft of Cervantes’s and left as Antonio Carriedo.

Japan walked with Nobunaga the day before Anegawa and went to bed that night as Kiku Honda.

One of the sole exceptions to the usual way is America, who was named “Alfred” by another nation rather than a human. Arthur named Alfred after one of his favourite kings: Alfred the Great. Alfred chose the “F. Jones” part himself when he became independent. Before that he was Alfred Kirkland. This was a weird blip in nation people history, but they chalk it up to Arthur’s magic. As for Arthur himself, he was named by Merlin. Yes, that Merlin

I haven’t thought of specifics for every nation. A few ideas are Otto von Bismarck for Ludwig, Napoleon for Francis, and maybe one of the Popes for the Italy bros. What do you guys think? What historical figure might have named your nation?

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Apaprently last night my beautiful furry daughters had a bathroom incident. they panicked and used all tiled areas in the house to... deal with it.

So that was fun to wake up to.

These are not joined areas.

Missed the carpet though, so 10/10 on that

The thing that perplexed me most. Was that they managed to get a piece of poop into a track toy of theirs

one of these

do you have any idea how precise you'd have to be to get something between the openings????????

how the FUCK did they do this?

and worst of all, the green part that normally pops off easy as (and frequently does when he cats push too hard or you move it, etc)

this ONE SECTION clung on like Heracles himself had offered it his strength

so when half of it did pop out, it flung back with the avenging force of indiana jones' whip and now I have the Weirdest Injury on my arm. and it STILL won the altercation

all clean now but like... what the FUCK none of this was necessary

[thestalwartheart]

I'm writing the saddest Bond fic in the world, and because it'll probably never get finished, I'm going to bullet point it here because I need people to cry with. It's 5000 words at the moment. I think I need it to be about 30,000.

After the events of NTTD, Q is grieving Bond. Privately, he is also grieving that Bond being the one who got away, or at least the one who would not stay. They slept together once, in the aftermath of Skyfall death, and as Q says in the fic, it was "the pinnacle of my years-long journey into vastly unrequited love."

After snapping at Mallory during a meeting, Mallory schedules Q some psychology appointments. There are snippets of these appointments throughout the fic.

Q throws out all his plants. Replaces them with sculptural bits and pieces from around the lab.

Over a year on from Bond's death, MI6 recruits a new 004. His name is Edward Jones. He's tall and lithe, with auburn hair, an excellent sense of humour, and no outwardly visible baggage. He takes an interest in Q.

But Q refuses -- categorically refuses -- to ever get involved with an agent again. That was an unspoken rule before Bond died, and now it's non-negotiable.

Except Q is no good at sticking to the rules. He's just as bad as Bond was, really. Edward is charming, and though he asks Q to dinner, he doesn't press after Q refuses him. Instead, perhaps having talked to Nomi or Moneypenny, he is simply there. All the time. He becomes a shoulder to lean on and a friend, despite all Q's attempts to distance himself.

But then...Mallory asks Q to help on a project that will reverse the effects of Heracles, and Q snaps. Already feeling a colossal amount of guilt for telling Bond it couldn't be fixed, Q cannot deal with the thought of coming up with a cure when he cannot administer it to the one person who deserved to be cured.

Distraught, stressed and full of fury at everything, he sleeps with Edward that night. And -- shock horror! -- sex works as an excellent temporary coping mechanism, so Q keeps sleeping with him. Against all his rules, he's given into his heart again.

“Who was he?” asks Edward, one day, as Q is making breakfast. / “Who was who?”/ “Whoever you’re trying to forget when you’re with me.”

“You’re a bastard,” snaps Q, another day, when Edward pushes too hard. / “Is that me you’re talking to, or him?”

After the above fight/angry sex/make up sex combo, Edward goes away on a mission and gets shot.

Q, reeling, doesn't visit him in hospital. Though he wants to, he thinks it's smarter to stay away. Best not get too attached (Oh, Q! we're crying, you're already attached!!!)

Edward, unsurprisingly does not take this well. “Enjoy living with your ghosts, Quartermaster,” he says, before going home to heal and get very drunk.

And maybe it's the getting shot bit, or maybe it's that they're making progress on a cure for Heracles, or maybe it's Moneypenny finally shaking Q until something comes loose, but Q cannot sleep. He feels sick about Edward. He feels awful. What kind of Quartermaster doesn't visit an injured agent? What kind of friend doesn't? What kind of lover, casual or not?

Plagued with guilt and realising he feels more for Edward than he ever intended to, Q turns up at arse-o-clock in the morning, in the rain to Edward's flat. Amongst other things, he says:

“He was an agent. Another Double-0." and

"I'm so sorry." and

“I spent nearly a decade of my life hiding that I loved him, from myself, him, and anyone else who might have wanted to hear. It’s the biggest regret I have. I don’t want to make the same mistakes again.”

Hot, passionate, intense, slow make up sex.

After a few more missions, Edward tells Q, "I'm finished. I enjoyed the job, but I only loved it because it led me to you."

They take a visit to Skyfall, where Q runs into Kincade and talks to Bond's grave where he says, among other things:

"Hello, James. I hope you’re getting some well-earned rest." and

“I love him. Eve told me you would want to hear that. I’m not so sure. You always were a bit of a possessive prick about the other agents having what was yours.” and

“I still love you. I think I will until the end of my days. It’ll be a privilege to carry you with me. Whatever small part of you I had.”

Q is in a daze most of that night. In the morning, he apologises to Edward for all the tears, and Edward replies:

“Never — and I do mean never — apologise for loving someone, especially not as well as you loved him."

Cue the I love yous and sex.

They return to London, where the Heracles cure has hit a roadblock. Q tells Mallory he wants nothing to do with the project anymore. However it turns out, it wasn't his burden to carry in the first place. He wants to be free of it.

The story ends in a quintessential English garden: Kendal in the spring. It's years later, and Edward brings Q a cup of tea in the garden, where Q is trying to read Les Misérables and failing. Instead, he's taking notes in the margins on hummingbirds.

They look up to see a red kite soaring through the air. Q things wistfully of Bond. It's a dull hurt, now, not the scraping raw thing that it was when he met Edward. Bond would probably enjoy Q remembering him in the wings of a bird of prey; always free.

Q still loves London, but he thinks he can imagine another life, a few years away yet, watching the birds in the Lake District and working in his shed, with Edward reading a book at his side.

FIN.

[babyrdie]

Thinking of Pausanias describing Lycius' art and saying "There are other pairs similarly opposed, foreigner against Greek: Odysseus opposed to Helenus, reputed to be the cleverest men in the respective armies" (5.22.2. W.H.S Jones). And as I mentioned in another post, I think they're different types of intelligence. Odysseus' intelligence is strategic in the sense that it often relies on the cunningness, while Helenus is strategic but strongly supported by his religious authority, so to speak.

This idea of ​​Helenus and Odysseus as a pair is because they both represent, in a certain way, the intelligence of each side. When I think about it, they're also part of the reason for the victory of the Achaean army. They both are. And why? Because it is a common tradition that Neoptolemus and Philoctetes (with the bow of Heracles) were necessary for the Achaeans to win, but most of the time the Achaeans don't know this until Helenus prophesies to them. If it weren't for Helenus' prophecy, perhaps they wouldn't even know it immediately (in a rare case, it is Calchas who prophesies. I think this version is in Posthomerica of Quintus Smyrnaeus, probably from 4th century AD). I say "immediately" because, since Troy was doomed to be defeated, perhaps they would have known at another time and Troy would have been destroyed, but without Helenus involved. Anyway, what I mean is that Helenus' knowledge was necessary for this to be possible.

And in general, Odysseus is the one who captures Helenus. The capture of Helenus is present in many sources and it was already an element of the Epic Cycle, as Proclus says “Next Odysseus lies in wait and catches Helenus” (H.G. Evelyn-White) while summarizing the lost epic The Little Iliad. This epic is believed to be either 8th century BC or 7th century BC, which implies that the version in which Helenus is captured and forced to reveal the prophecy is relatively old. This version has continued since then, for example being part of the context of Sophocles' play Philoctetes (5th century BC), in which the description of Helenus' capture is:

MERCHANT: That's something you have probably not heard, so I'll explain it all. There was a prophet — his name was Helenus — of noble birth, a son of Priam. One night Odysseus, who has a reputation for deceit and every kind of shame, went out alone and used his trickery to capture him. Odysseus tied him up and brought him back, then put him on display among the Argives, like a splendid captured beast. Well, Helenus foretold all sorts of thing to them and then, he made this prophecy concerning Troy — they'd never smash its mighty citadel unless they could persuade Philoctetes, reason with him, and lead him back to Troy from the island which he now inhabits. Once he'd heard this prophecy from Helenus, Odysseus quickly promised he'd get him and show him to the Argives. He believed he'd bring Philoctetes with his consent — that was the likeliest scenario — but if he was unwilling, he'd use force. And then he said if he did not succeed, anyone who wished should cut his head off. Now, boy, you've heard it all, and I'd advise

Philoctetes. Translation by Ian Johnston.

Later developments in the episode make Helenus a Trojan traitor who, insulted and angered that Deiphobus had married Helen after Paris' death instead of him marrying Helen, deliberately tells the Achaeans how to win the war. However, in general the surviving sources tend to lean more towards the idea that Helenus was captured and forced to talk, as the oldest version says. And why am I focusing on this? Because, as Merchant makes clear in this passage, Odysseus used his cunning intelligence to achieve this. As we know, Odysseus waited so that he could ambush someone at night. He took advantage of the fact that it was night and that Helenus wasn't seeing him (since he was hiding) to capture him without Helenus having a chance to fight back; he wasn't concerned with things like giving his opponent a fair chance and acting with dignity. He had one job: to end the war, bringing victory to the Acheaens. And he was willing to work for it. Helenus having been forced to prophesy, this time it is the wisdom that comes from the connection with the divine that comes into action and tells the means to win the war.

In a way, Helenus and Odysseus, as the representatives of intelligence on each side, were both necessary for the final outcome of the war. And considering the most common version (Helenus captured), then both types of intelligence were utilized: both that which is cunning and that which is wise. And now that Pausanias mentioned that Odysseus and Helenus are a complementary pair (in the sense of positions on each side), I wonder how much of this is intentional and how much of it is coincidence.

[galleryofart]

The Garden of the Hesperides

Artist: Edward Burne-Jones (English, 1833–1898)

Date: c. 1869

Media: Oil on canvas

Collection: Kunsthalle Hamburg, Hamburg, Germany

Description

In Greek mythology, the Hesperides, are the nymphs of evening and golden light of sunsets, who were the "Daughters of the Evening" or "Nymphs of the West". They were also called the Atlantides from their reputed father, Atlas.

The Nymphs of the Evening

Ordinarily, the Hesperides number three, like the other Greek triads (the Three Graces and the Three Fates). They are sometimes portrayed as the evening daughters of Night (Nyx), either alone or with Darkness (Erebus), in accord with the way Eos in the farthermost east, in Colchis, is the daughter of the titan Hyperion. The Hesperides are also listed as the daughters of Atlas and Hesperis, or of Phorcys and Ceto, or of Zeus and Themis.

They are sometimes called the "Western Maidens", the "Daughters of Evening", or Erythrai, and the "Sunset Goddesses", designations all apparently tied to their imagined location in the distant west. Hesperis is appropriately the personification of the evening (as Eos is of the dawn) and the Evening Star is Hesperus.

In addition to their tending of the garden, they have taken great pleasure in singing. Euripides calls them "minstrel maids" as they possess the power of sweet song. The Hesperides could be hamadryad nymphs or epimeliads as suggested by a passage in which they change into trees: "… Hespere became a poplar and Eretheis an elm, and Aegle a willow's sacred trunk …" and in the same account, they are described figuratively or literally to have white arms and golden heads.

Erytheia ("the red one") is one of the Hesperides. The name was applied to an island close to the coast of southern Hispania, which was the site of the original Punic colony of Gades (modern Cadiz). Pliny's Natural History records of the island of Gades:

"On the side which looks towards Spain, at about 100 paces distance, is another long island, three miles wide, on which the original city of Gades stood. By Ephorus and Philistides it is called Erythia, by Timæus and Silenus Aphrodisias, and by the natives the Isle of Juno." The island was the home of Geryon, who was overcome by Heracles.

[darcymariaphoster]

Hetalia/Hunger Games Crossover

I'd originally started this for a friend some years ago, but I lost that friendship and the motivation to write this. It was a behemoth of a concept to start with, which is why I'd decided to rush the beginning and focus mostly on the games. According to the notes I made for this, I didn't actually create most of this cast -- I'd sent my friend vague character notes and asked them to assign a Hetalia character to each one and then built the cast off of that. Which is kind of a cool concept for a gift for a friend, tbh. This was when I was still into Hetalia the first time, so it's actually not Nordic-centric for once. 😅

Below are notes and the beginnings of the idea.

This was written in 2014. (Someone tell me they can tell a difference in my writing from 10 years ago to now. 😭😂)

Happy readings!

CHEAT SHEET

District 1 *career*: [luxury items] Francis Bonnefoy & Matthew Williams

District 2 *career*: [masonry, weapons, trains] Arthur Kirkland & Elizabeta Héderváry

District 3: [electronics, mechanical] Kiku Honda & Heracles Karpusi

District 4 *career*: [fishing] Lovino Basile & Antonio Carriedo

District 5: [power] Lars Janssen & Amelie Lemmens

District 6: [transportation] Peter Dalton & Basch Zwingli

District 7: [lumber] Berwald Oxenstierna & Tino Väinamöinen

District 8: [textiles (clothes)] Roderich Edelstein & Gilbert Beilschmidt

District 9: [grain] Belle Vogel & Chloe Walker

District 10: [livestock] Wynn Taylor & Demarco Hughes

District 11: [agriculture] Sadiq Adnan & Gupta Hassan

District 12: [coal] Ludwig Glockner & Alfred Jones

→District 13: [nuclear weapons]←

Ludwig’s little brother: Alarick Glockner

Person at home who is in love with Ludwig: Feliciano Vargas

Previous Victor: Markus Marino

“Effie Trinket”: Jakob Sigurdsson

Personal Designer: Feliks Łukasiewicz

Game-Maker: Yao Wang

President: Ivan Braginski

Host: Mathias Densen

~

[Cheat for names:

Chloe: Wy

Amelie: Belgium

Belle: Liechtenstein

Mathias: Denmark

Alarick: HRE

Markus: Grandpa Rome

Jakob: Iceland

Wynn: Australia

Demarco: New Zealand

Lars: Netherlands]

~~

The Reaping

I stare around town, standing on my front porch. Light is barely breaching the horizon, dyeing the wispy clouds orange and pink while it casts an eerie glow across the land. A few people are already up -- mainly the miners, along with the butcher and baker -- but I know the rest of the town is trying to avoid the inevitable. The Reaping is today and everyone dreads it. Every year it happens; the same person -- Jakob Sigurdsson -- comes in, all dressed up in his Capitol clothes; two people are picked to represent the District. He always makes it sound like a good thing, something to be proud of, when you’re picked. And for a select few Districts, it is. But we aren’t one of those few and we see the Hunger Games for what they are -- a slaughter.

My District -- District 12 -- is one of the poorest in Panem. Nicknamed the Seam, we produce coal for our country. The entire town always seems to be covered in a thick layer of coal dust, making it look dull and grey. I watch the miners make their daily trek from home to the mines, most carrying lunch-pails but not everyone. All look tired, worn, done. I don’t know what it takes to be a miner, not really. Thought my father was one, I barely remember his schedule and his exhausted face is fading from my memory. Instead of spending all my days in the mine, I get up early to do a different task but one no less important.

I hunt.

Hunting is technically illegal because it’s past our borders that all the animals dwell. But even Peacekeepers want fresh meat and are normally fairly willing to turn a blind eye if they get a cut. So I hunt and trade for other things my family needs.

Slowly, I wander through town, heading for the border. This “border” is just a ten-foot high wire fence with “Caution: Electric” signs posted here and there. And that’s an absolute joke, since our District is lucky to get more than two hours of electricity in the evenings. Still, as I approach the fence, I pause to listen for the hum that means the wire is live. When I’m sure it isn’t, I go to the bushes that hide the weak spot in the fence -- one of many; this one just happens to be closest to home. I crouch down and step through the hole.

Once beyond the fence, I jog to the first line of trees. Coming to the woods is a reprieve. While the town seems to lack color, the woods are full of it. Greens and browns of every shade surround me and I feel okay again. I retrieve my bow and arrows from a hollow log and head deeper into the security of the trees.

“Ludwig!” I turn my head toward the voice and spot my best friend, Feliciano, waving from a small break in the trees to my left. I smile slightly, something I only seem able to do around him now, and wander over to him. “I got something for us!”

“Funny, do did I,” I say, reaching into my pocket for the goat cheese my little brother had left on the table for me early this morning. My little brother, Alarick, owns a goat that I’m grateful for because it means cheese and milk we can either use or trade. Plus, it keeps Alarick busy now and again.

Feliciano beams at me as he produces a loaf of bread from behind his back. “Ta-da! Fresh from the bakery! I traded a squirrel for it!” he explains happily.

I momentarily forget about the cheese, too surprised by this amazing treat, as I take it from him. Most of the bread we make at home is different from the bakery's, being that the Capitol takes most of the wheat for their own bread, leaving oh so little for us. This is real bread; less dense and slightly sweeter. “He must be in a giving mood…” I mutter, my mouth watering. It’s still warm. I reluctantly hand it back.

He rips it in half and gives me a section. I pull out the cheese and we sit down. “Well, I think everyone wants to feel close again,” he muses, nibbling on the bread and cheese. I rip my section in half and pocket a portion, intending to share it with Alarick later. “Considering the day and all…”

“It’s a funny time to desire that,” I mutter, looking around. I spot a bush with some blackberries and stand, going over to collect a handful for us. I offer them to him as I sit again. “I mean, shouldn’t we want to feel that all the time, not just right before a death sentence?”

Feliciano sets a berry on top of a bite of cheese and pops it into his mouth. “Maybe we’re too scared to,” he says finally. “Maybe the idea is normally just too much but, on this day, we forget to be scared of the whole thing because we’re all too scared for ourselves and our families.” He looks at me. “It’s stupid, huh?”

“It’s probably true,” I sigh, picking at the bread. “How many times did you put your name in?”

He looks uncharacteristically upset for a moment, torn between a triumph and a sickening dread, as he admits, “Eighteen.” I gape at him, horrified. “I have my siblings to think about, just like you have Alarick. So how many times did you put yours in?”

I’m reluctant to reply. I feel a bit selfish, now. See, every time you enter your name into the Reaping, your rations temporarily go up. With six other siblings, Feliciano has reason to. But I only have my mother and brother. “Eleven,” I mumble and shove some cheese and a few berries into my mouth.

He laughs, my favorite sound in the world. “We’re horrible. Our chances are so high and we do this every year!” His smile is sad when I look at him. “Let’s just go. Let’s just run and run…”

“And go where?” I ask, wishing more than anything that I could be as optimistic as he is about the idea. But I know there’s nowhere to run.

“Anywhere,” he answers easily. “There’s got to be something else besides here.” He leans back, watching the trees quiver with the slight breeze. “Anything must be better than here…”

I nod thoughtfully. “Probably. But… What about Alarick? And your family? We can’t just leave them…”

He pulls his knees up to his chest and sighs deeply. “I know. We could take them with… Maybe in a few years, when the littlest can run.” He glances at me.

“But, for now, it’s the Reaping day,” I remind him. “And the odds are not in our favor.” The words are a twist on what Jakob always says before he draws names. We look at each other and smile. I almost laugh but the sound doesn’t quite make it to my lips.

x~x

Everyone is gathered in front of City Hall. Even the miners came home early for this. We’re all dressed in our best clothes. THe youngest group of only twelve years stands in the front of the crowd and it goes back until eighteen. Parents and children too young hover behind everyone else nervously. A giant screen has been erected off to the right of the City Hall building. We’re all waiting anxiously for Jakob to step onto the stage. The waiting part of this drives me crazy. They put on a big show just to draw names. Maybe that’s important to other Districts -- like the career Districts -- but for us, it seems like a waste of time. I shift restlessly from one foot to the other, until I bump into the girl next to me and receive a dirty look. But, finally, Jakob waltzes onto the stage and taps the microphone, smiling his tiny smile when we all cringe at the backfeed it gives off. The cameras all start rolling, some on the crowd, others on Jakob.

This year, Jakob is wearing a turquoise-blue suit with gold trim. He’s done up his eyes in a similar fashion, making the dull grey of his irises that much more noticeable. His ever-changing tattoos are gold swirls up his neck and on the sides of his face. He looks ridiculous to me but I know he must be in style in the Capitol because he’d never wear anything less. “Happy Hunger Games,” he purrs into the microphone. “And what a special time. This marks the 75th annual. Exciting, isn’t it?” No one so much as coughs in response. He’s kind of used to this now, though, and his expression doesn’t change. “Let’s go straight to the clip then, shall we? We’ve changed it a bit this year so I suggest you keep your eyes open.” The way his Capitol accent highlights the last part and how his eyes seem to sparkle a bit makes me shiver. I’ve imagined that Jakob had not originally wanted the job he’s got -- doing the Reaping for District 12 and showing the tributes how to live a short Capitol lifestyle. I’ve always thought he probably wanted to be a Game-Maker and the idea that he’d be good at it makes me glad he’s stuck with us.

The clip, a short history of Panam and why the Hunger Games are held, does not seem any different to me. Jakob’s expression changes ever so slightly, causing him to look completely blissed out. When the video ends, he stares back out at the crowd. “I love that. It’s so powerful,” he murmurs, and I’m not entirely convinced that he hasn’t momentarily forgotten the microphone in front of his mouth. “Now,” he says, seeming a bit more alive. “Let us get to what we’ve all been waiting for! Let’s draw some names. And, of course, may the odds be ever in your favor.” Everyone stands a bit taller, more rigid, as he walks to the bubble holding all the names. He spins it twice and the sound echoes. Then he reaches in and pulls out a slip of paper. He moves back in front of the microphone and unfolds it. No one is breathing. “Alarick Glockner,” he announces gleefully and everyone except me lets out a collective sigh of relief.

I stare at the twelve-year olds, picking out the shimmering blond of my brother’s hair easily as he steps forward with a prompt of, “Come on, don’t be shy,” from Jakob. He looks like he’s trembling.

Everything in me shuts down and so I feel nothing as I frantically push through the crowd shouting, “Alarick, no! I volunteer! No! I volunteer!” Peacekeepers try to stop me and I see Alarick look back at me, horror on his face. “I volunteer!” I scream, pushing against the Peacekeepers in an attempt to get to my brother.

Jakob stares at me consideringly. “Let him through,” he says at last and I’m released. I immediately run to Alarick and hug him briefly before passing him to Feliciano, who has appeared just as Alarick is getting hysterical. Still feeling rather numb, I hear Jakob call me forward; I walk on leaden legs onto the stage. As Jakob takes my arm and chirps, “What’s your name?” I remember the cameras broadcasting this to the entire nation live and feel sick.

Shakily, I answer, “Ludwig Glockner…”

He’s practically beaming. “I’ll bet that was your brother, eh?” I nod. “Well, very brave indeed. Ladies and gentlemen, District 12’s first volunteer!” While he claps, everyone else in the crowd touches three fingers to their lips and raise them into the air toward me. I don’t feel brave. I definitely feel like I might pass out. I know the sign they’re giving me and it scares me. It’s a sign of respect and -- more importantly -- a sign of passing within the Districts. It hasn’t been used, to my knowledge, since the mine blew up a decade ago. It’s almost rebellious.

I glance at Jakob, to gauge his reaction, and am surprised to see that he seems uncomfortable. Rather hurriedly, he declares, “Let’s draw the second name.” He goes back to the bubble and spins it twice before fishing for a slip of paper. He finally snatches one and steps back to the microphne. “Let’s see who will be joining Ludwig this year…” He unfolds it and reads the name, “Alfred Jones.”

A blond boy, around my age, slowly steps through the crowd and I try not to roll my eyes. His expression reads uncertainty and mild fear. He walks to the stage adjusting his glasses, and, when he does, his entire persona. By the time he’s standing beside me, he looks determined and taller than my first impression had suggested. “And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen,” Jakob announces cheerfully, his comfort level back to normal. “District 12’s tributes for the 75th annual Hunger Games!”

[authormikamathews]

Keys of the Future - Project Heracles | Royal Road

This story, inspired by Buffy and Superheroes like Jessica Jones, brings me so much joy. I am writing so much more, so much better than before and I just needed to share with you all what I am writing.

[m0chigang]

March Wrap Up ✨

My iPad broke in the middle of the month, so most of the books I read or either borrowed or I already owned. I was NOT going to let this mess with my reading challenge. Also, just in case, there may be some spoilers because my emotions can get the better of me.

1. If We Were Villains - 5/5

When I say this book broke me, I mean it with every cell of my body. Only Shakespearean students would have such a dramatic and tragic life. The epilogue made my mood swing so hard like, I went from crying, to being mad to confused to hopeful to AO3 so I could find a post-canon fanfic to quench my need for a happy ending. I was so confused as to how Oliver got arrested, and then it all made sense. He is just stupid (in the most heartbreaking and beautiful way possible). Alexander was and is the best character.

2. Heartstopper volumes 1-4 - 5/5

I watched the TV show last year, I adored it, and a friend leaded me the comics. I was hoping for lighthearted romance after being destroyed by If We Were Villains and Daisy Jones and The Six (btw, the show destroyed me, and I’m obsessed with the music), and ALL I GOT WAS MORE TEARS. I spent volume 3 and 4 crying, it’s unfair but so beautiful at the same time. Nick and Charlie deserve the world, and I’m excited to know that we will have 2 more volumes.

3. Heracle’s Bow - 4/5

Another short story by Madeleine Miller (I have already sold my soul to her). I love how she writes, which is a big factor on the ratings I give her stories, but I was so confused for a while. Then I understood the story, the ending is heartbreaking (I feel like I’m repeating that a lot). I don’t know, I liked it, it’s what matters, and I am getting ready for Circe.

4. Warning: Fairy Tales - 4/5

I bought this when it was published after reading it on Wattpad. Yes, I’m a Wattpad girl, sue me. I just needed to laugh, and the way the author twists the tales is so fuma and I love it. I also found out he has 2 more fairy tale books, so now I have to buy them, so…. Another whole in my pocket.

[gingermintpepper]

Hello my friend, thank you very much for the tag!! Admittedly, when I first saw the name Erginus, my kneejerk reaction was "the Argonaut??" but upon re-reading the post a few times I think I have a better grasp on what's being asked.

Full disclosure, I have absolutely no clue about a figure named Leucippus or his wife so I won't touch that but Erginus, father of Trophonius and Agamedes (not Agametheus), is a figure I'm pretty familiar with on account of him being the king of the Minyans and, more relevantly, the guy Heracles personally beat to death because he was extorting Thebes because of his father's final wish.

It's an important story written about in both Diodorus and Apollodorus' Libraries because it's this victory that leads to King Creon setting up the marriage between Heracles and Megara (and it is also the catalyst for Heracles getting the command to enter servitude under Eurystheus because he blew off the order to return home in favour of celebrating)

(Diodorus Siculus, Library 1-7, Heracles beating Erginus and all his men; trans. Oldfather)

(Apollodorus, Library, King Creon looks at the man who singlehandedly annihilated a king and goes "Yeah Meg you can have this one"; trans. Frazer.)

The god that favoured the Orchomenians was Poseidon, not Apollo and as far as I know, there are no mentions of any god favouring Erginus in his battle against Heracles as Heracles had recieved personal arms from Athena, Hermes, Hephaestus and, of course, Apollo.

(Apollodorus, Library, Heracles is swagged tf out; trans. Frazer)

Trophonius on the other hand, like you very correctly point out, is largely believed to have been Apollo's son instead of Erginus' mainly because he was such a skilled oracle. Trophonius and his brother Agamedes were also very skilled architects and there's even one account by Pausanias of the brothers building a trick wall in one of treasuries they were commissioned to build for Hyrieus', a son of Poseidon, so they could steal innocuous things one by one from the treasury without having to tamper with Hyrieus' keys lmao

(Pausanias, Descriptions of Greece, Stealing from a Demigod prank GONE RIGHT (GONE SEXUAL?!); trans. Jones. Litt D., and H.A. Omerod.)

Apollo loved the both of them very very much, but that regard did not, at all extend to their father. Trophonius and Agamedes are also mentioned in the HomHymn as being some of the first priests brought to Delphi when Apollo was recruiting.

In conclusion, from what I can find, Apollo's only real connection to Minyan Erginus is the fact that he really adored his sons and that there was a statue of Apollo Boedromios right next to the stone lion put up in celebration of Heracles for curbstomping Erginus into the afterlife. Not really sure how that could be construed as being lovers, but stranger things have, indeed happened.

time for ME to be asking some greek mythology questions now.

I came upon a post saying these two are Apollo's lovers;

Erginus/Erginos

Leucippus's wife (that's all I got from the post)

However, I'm having trouble finding sources to back that up (if there even are any).

In Erginus's case, he's mainly said to be the father of Trophonius and Agametheus. I know Apollo is considered to be Trophonius's father, through the guy's unnamed mom, but I can't find anything backing up the claim of Erginus, or even another person named Erginus, being a lover of Apollo.

I can't find anything pinning down a man named Leucippus had a wife who had an affair with Apollo either. It's a very vague thing so understandable I'm having a bit of a time lol

If anybody has any answers with sources, please share! You will be contributing to my research on Apollo's love life and making my heavily-researched post about it even more accurate <3

tagging fellow nerds for reach

@gotstabbedbyapen @gingermintpepper @my-name-is-apollo @littlesparklight

[coralcatsea]

[crispyliza]

Saw this meme format on twitter and i just

[whereisnardo]

dOwN tO cLoWn

The other post was fun, so I did it for the hetalia countries

Always down to clown: Prussia, N. Italy, America, Australia, Poland, Greece, Iceland (in secret), Romania, Korea

Partakes in Occasional Clowning: Hungary, Spain, France, New Zealand, Denmark, Finland, Indonesia, Ireland, Norway

Not down to clown: Germany, Netherlands, China (his back), Japan, Sweden, Scotland, Egypt, Turkey, Liechtenstein, Estonia,

How dare you assume they would be down to clown: Austria, Romano (he clowns in secret), Belarus, Switzerland

What does that mean: Russia, Ukraine, Canada

A clown: England, Sealand