#Athena always traveled with Nike

[arielsojourner]

So I was in Greece and found out it was a lie.

All those episodes of Xena Warrior Princess and Iolaus: The Legendary Journeys.

They.

Were.

LIES.

Did you know that throughout ALL of Greece for all the centuries leading up to when the Romans invaded, all of the many myriad city states and colonies-- west to Sicily and south to Africa and north east to Asia Minor, all of them: no temples to Ares.

None.

All the other gods? Yup. Hell, they even imported Isis from Egypt so she has shrines on Delos. DELOS. The holy birthplace of Apollo. Shrines to the Egyptian goddess Isis.

But Ares? No.

And in both shows that was the WHOLE plot. It was always about Ares and his temples and shrines. Even the Young Hercules spin off with Ryan Gosling as Hercules and the actor who would later be Fili the Dwarf playing young Iolaus, Ares was always in his temples and always trying to protect his temples from being smashed up or destroyed. And I visit Greece for the first time in my life and go to all these amazing sites-- Delos, the canal at Corinth, Olympia, Delphi, Athens, Ithaca, Patmos, Tinos etc. and . . . no Ares. No temple to Ares.

And when you visit Greece and they take you to the ruins of the temples of Athena and Zeus and Apollo etc. you learn that people built temples for the gods to use as like vacation homes when they didn't want to stay on Olympus.

All those city states. All those colonies and during the entire Hellenic period no one built one single temple to Ares according to the docent at the Delphi museum.

Apparently no one wanted Ares as a neighbor.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

In honor of my pjo/greek mythology hyperfixation trying to drag me back into its clutches by the neck - your thoughts on sbi as demigods? I like to imagine phil as a son of thanatos (bc death) or hermes (bc wings). Techno as a son of eris (often considered the goddess of strife and discord but also bloodshed) or athena (obvious choice with his strategies). Wilbur as son of athena (bc he was the strategist during much of the dsmp era iirc). Now this was hard to figure out but i'd imagine Tommy as a son of hestia (bc he was loyal to a fault at times, and very attached to the people [and things] he loved and considered his family, to the point of betraying others which, i know, is the opposite of loyalty but i feel like it still fits)

I should probably preface this by saying I know absolutely nothing about Percy Jackson and all that, so I'm going 100% based on my knowledge of Greek mythology and not any in-universe lore for that franchise.

I think Hermes is pretty spot on for Phil, also being the god of travel and such. Additionally known as both a trickster AND a protector which feels very fitting for Phil. Thanatos is definitely also a fun choice. I relate Phil a lot to themes of stars and night, so Nyx could also be an interesting option.

For Techno, while a bit of a cliché choice, I think Ares fits as the god of war, courage, and bloodshed (more so in my opinion than Eris because I wouldn't personally relate Techno to her specific connotations of strife or chaos). Alternatively, I'd like to suggest Demeter. Not only does personifying Techno with the goddess of harvest and agriculture slap hard, Demeter is linked to the upholding of sacred law and the cycle of life and death, which feels fitting for Techno's anarchistic tendencies. I'd vibe with Athena or even Artemis too honestly, those are good picks.

Wilbur is the one I'd relate more to Eris, I think. It feels very fitting. Apollo could also be fun, the god of music and poetry and prophecy. Apollo is heavily tied into a bow and arrow, which always feels like a Wilbur thing to me (bonus points if Techno is the child of Artemis then, since Artemis and Apollo are twins). Another good option for Wilbur is Dionysus, god of myth and theatre, but also instability and madness. That's Wilbur to a T.

Then Tommy, I think you're again pretty spot on with Hestia, that's a very Tommy-coded goddess. Nike, goddess of victory, also feels Tommy-coded to me. But as usual my Tommy thoughts are pretty limited, sorry about that.

[rainbowfroots]

KNB CHARECTERS IN THE PJO/HOO UNIVERSE:

I’ve had this headcanon stuck in my head for so long, I just had to share it.

Kuroko: Is definitely a son of Hades (the god of the underworld) like do we even need to ask ourselves why? Kuroko literally talks non-stop about how he’s a shadow in canon. I can already see him shadow travelling everywhere just to jump out and scare Kagami half to death. Being a son of Hades, he would get along with hellhounds too which makes total sense as he has a pet dog (Nigou) in canon. He would also have the power of summoning skeletons and speaking to the dead which I think would be AWESOME.

Kagami: Would probably be a son of Ares, the god of war and bloodshed. Children of Ares in PJO have mostly been described as taking action first and then facing the consequences. Kagami very much fits this bill. He is extremely passionate about what he does and is fairly competitive, which also makes him the perfect son of Ares. He would love the thrill of battle and would spend most of his time in the sword practicing arena in Camp Half-Blood. He also picks fights and gets riled up quickly, which is a very Ares trait to have. Also his hair is RED so he’s practically MADE to be an Ares kid.

Kise: Is 100000% an Apollo kid. There is no question about it. Apollo is all about radiance, being the god of the sun (also archery, medicine, the oracle, poetry, etc). His kids also have a tendency to be good at multiple things, which is a trait Kise shares. He is confident, the ladies love him and he loves to show off (All things Apollo admires). He would have fun practicing his archery, and though he may not be the best healer, he would be a pretty decent one. He’s also blonde which seems to be a common Apollo kid thing.

Midorima: Is probably a son of Tyche. She’s the goddess of fortune as well as chance. Midorima is obsessed with his horoscope, makes sure he has his lucky items and believes in superstition to a certain degree. These are things Tyche would appreciate. Midorima would be skilled in archery, preferring long-ranged weapons but also would have the power of cursing people with luck (whether that be good or bad would remain unknown until it would come into effect but it would give him a chance in the most hopeless of situations).

Aomine: Probably would be a son of Ares. This was difficult but after a lengthy deliberation, Ares it is. Though not as rash and reckless as Kagami, Aomine is still pretty reckless when it comes to proving himself. He lets anger drive him at times, which would prove useful in a fight. He’s skillful at what he does, which would make him a versatile fighter. He’s overconfident, almost to a fault and like Kagami, would never back down from a fight. Ares kids are passionate and that’s something Aomine definitely is.

Murasakibara: Could be a son of Hypnos. Murasakibara gave me a hard time, because he seems to fit everywhere, yet nowhere (sorry Murasakibara). But out of all the cabins, he seems like he would fit in with the Hypnos cabin. They are a slow, purposeful bunch. Hypnos is the god of sleep, and so his children spend a lot of time asleep. This could explain his laziness when it comes to most things. They also have the power to walk in peoples’ dreams which I think is simultaneously the coolest and most terrifying power ever!

Akashi: Is definitely the son of Nike, goddess of victory. Nike kids don’t know when to quit. They do not stop until they win and are crowned as the victor. They almost always want to be right (and usually are). They are very competitive as well. Akashi fits this to a T. He would probably make sure his cabin would win capture the flag. Every. Single. Time. The other campers would be tired of it.

Momoi: Is the daughter of Athena. Are we even surprised? Athena is the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. Her children always have a plan, know how to do their research and come up with solutions. If you thought children of Nike were always right, then the children of Athena are ALWAYS right. She’s smart, resourceful, witty and loves making plans. Momoi would fit right in with the Athena cabin.

Nijimura: Would be the son of Iris. Iris is the goddess of the rainbow and Niji literally means rainbow so, talk about being fated. Nijimura would look intimidating but would be the biggest softie. The Iris cabin get along with pegasi really well so he would spend a lot of time at the stables. And yes, the entire camp would have a crush on the man.  

Haizaki: Is a son of Nemesis, the goddess of revenge. Haizaki is a person fueled by spite and revenge, which would make him the perfect candidate for a son of Nemesis. Though not the most forgiving of parents, she does try and keep the balance in things, even if that means doing things that may not be the most moral. Haizaki would grow up hearing the phrase “an eye for an eye” and it would become the motto he would live by. He would be a great fighter, though maybe not the best example of someone with a moral compass.

Himuro: Would probably be a son of Hecate, the deity of magic, pathways and the mist. Himuro comes off as very mysterious. He keeps to himself mostly, but if you get on his bad side, he isn’t very forgiving. This seems to be what the children of Hecate are like. In canon, Himuro is known for his Mirage shot. As a son of Hecate, he would actually be able to cast illusions. He would also be able to curse people (Kagami has been turned into a toad more times than he can count) and can manipulate the mist.  

[straythisway]

NAME: Majdalā bint Rāḥīl bint Maryam Alfadhli

AGE: 30GODLY PARENT (IF APPLICABLE): Nike

AFFILIATION (CAPTURE THE FLAG TEAM/AGENT OF ERIS/HUNTER OF ARTEMIS/CAMP STAFF/ETC?): Alumni, Camp from 2006 - 2012

SPECIES: Demi-god

ABILITIES: Enhanced physical prowess (speed, agility, etc), probability manipulation & wings

BIOGRAPHY:

Majdalā had always loved to sing. It was true, but her heart and her head have always longed for the clouds. Her travels across the world with her scholarly father meant that she learned much in her short time in the mortal world, but what she did learn, she sucked up like a sponge.

(At first, her father believed that she would be Athene's daughter, but he knew this to be a lie. In his heart, when he saw the competitive look in her eye and her face tilted toward the clouds, he knew.)

Nike chose her when she came to Swynlake. She never wanted to leave.

During the war, Majdalā helped as she could, manipulating battles, predicting outcomes, fighting alongside the children of Ares and Athena with aplomb, love. These were her people. This was her home.

When the war was over, she stays, but in the position of armory attendant. She tells stories, she laughs, helps aid in the flag capture, and shows the students her great, golden wings.

Majdalā loves Swynlake. She never wishes to leave.

[ahtsumu]

HAIKYUU BOYS AS GREEK GODS/GODDESSES

and some explanations!

OIKAWA TOORU as HADES, King of the Underworld and god of the dead.

many forget that hades is also the “god of the hidden wealth of the earth, from the fertile soil that nourished the seed-grain to the mined wealth of gold”. oikawa’s beginnings have been compared to infertile soil and, like hades, he is perceived to have drawn the short end of the stick compared to his contemporaries. yet, he can turn a barren field into a meadow. like hades, oikawa spins endings into beginnings. and like death, losing isn’t the closing of a door; but rather, the opening of another.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI as ZEUS, King of the Gods and the god of the sky, law and order, destiny and fate, and kingship.

ushijima has always been presented as a far-away deity, so great that he is untouchable. unapproachable. it’s as if he sits on a throne above everyone else. if oikawa was the king of the court, ushijima was the king of volleyball. players all throughout the nation knew of ushijima wakatoshi and his sheer power. but his success isn’t very surprising–– in fact, taking his unique gift into consideration, it was almost destined.

KUROO TETSUROU as as HERMES, winged herald of the gods and god of travel, luck, athletes, sports, and wealth.

not only does kuroo’s cunning and mischievous nature align perfectly with hermes’, he is also much like this messenger god in being a link, a connection, between two worlds. although he has his beginnings in sports, kuroo eventually becomes a successful businessman, promoting athletes and sporting events for the japan volleyball association. 

BOKUTO KOUTAROU as POSEIDON, god of the sea, earthquakes, floods, drought, and horses.

bokuto, like poseidon, had a temperament was as volatile as the sea before finally acknowledging his faults. interestingly, he also once compared himself to ushijima in a way similar to how poseidon had a rivalry with zeus. now, however, the similarities between bokuto and poseidon lie in their incredible power–– as well as their flexibility. bokuto’s playing style is brash, like a crashing wave, but he is also like water. block a river and it adapts. drop a stone in it and the water absorbs it. 

KITA SHINSUKE as DEMETER, goddess of agriculture, harvest, and grain, who sustained mankind with the earth's rich bounty.

DAICHI SAWAMURA as THEMIS, goddess of law and order, justice, and hospitality.

as the karasuno team captain, daichi always looked out for his teammates and made sure they were doing things the right way. he didn’t just want them to be good players, he wanted them to be good people. daichi eventually becomes a police officer, continuing to uphold the values of truth, order, and justice. 

IWAIZUMI HAJIME as SOTERIA, goddess of safety and salvation, deliverance, and preservation from harm.

iwaizumi may not look like it on the surface, but inside him is the instinct to protect. he protected kageyama from oikawa in middle school, protected oikawa from himself all his life, and even goes on to become an athletic trainer to specifically prevent athletes like oikawa from sustaining injuries.

TENDOU SATORI as DIONYSIUS, god of wine, madness, pleasure, and theatre.

KENMA KOZUME as HYPNOS, god of sleep.

as the god of sleep, hypnos also exerts control over the mind. kenma has often been called nekoma’s “brain”, and when combined with his preference for idleness, makes a perfect hynpos.

AKAASHI KEIJI as ATHENA, goddess of wisdom, war, and crafts.

MIYA ATSUMU as APOLLO, god of the sun, music, archery, and poetry.

from his wide, carefree grin to his golden hair, atsumu’s outward appearance is in every way sun-like, youthful, and bright. apollo and atsumu are also similar in that both are athletic with excellent aim and focus, sometimes cocky, and incredibly determined in achieving their goals.

MIYA OSAMU as ARTEMIS, goddess of the hunt and the moon.

if atsumu is the sun, then osamu is the moon. not only is he literally associated with silver, osamu also possesses a more subdued disposition than his twin. he is like night compared to day–– the same, but not quite. osamu is also like artemis in how she grants strength and health to others, which he does as the owner of onigiri miya.

HINATA SHOUYOU as NIKE, the winged goddess of victory.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO as AEOLUS, god of winds.

creatures with wings don’t need wind to fly, but it sure makes the journey easier.

AONE TAKANOBU as HEPHAESTUS, god of fire, smiths, craftsmen, metalworking, stonemasonry and sculpture.

[radishly]

Got bored and decided that it was the perfect time to start my South Park Camp Half-Blood AU

(I’m going to conveniently forget that all children of Athena have blonde hair and grey eyes for this!) Stan Marsh; Son of Aphrodite 

I was originally stuck between Apollo, Hecate, and Aphrodite for him, but ended up settling of Aphrodite, because idk he just seems like a romantic to me, he always cared about his relationship with Wendy, and it just made sense to me idk

(Aphrodite is the goddess of love, lust, beauty, pleasure, passion and procreation)

Kyle Broflovski; Son of Athena

This one is easier to explain, Kyle is shown time and time again to be the smartest and most logical of the main four boys, so it was only right for him to be a son of the goddess of wisdom

(Athena is the goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and warfare)

Kenny McCormick; Son of Hades

“Oh my God, they killed Kenny!” is probably what Hades says every time he has to bring his son back to life. Hades is the god of the underworld, Kenny dies a lot, perfect father son relationship

(Hades is the god of the dead and the underworld. King of the Underworld)

Eric Cartman; Son of Ares

Eric is an asshole, he’s probably even seen as an asshole among the other Ares kids. I bet you he’s Ares’ favorite tho

(Ares is the god of courage and war)

Leopold “Butters” Stotch; Son of Persephone

I just thought it would be cute tbh, plus I think it matches his personality

(Persephone is the goddess of spring, life, death, grain, and destruction. She is also the Queen of the Underworld)

Craig Tucker; Son of Hecate

Space makes me think of magic and Craig is a space nerd, plus I think he just totally wouldn’t give a fuck that he has such a badass mom

(Hecate is the goddess of boundaries, crossroads, witchcraft, and ghosts)

Tweek Tweak; Son of Demeter

Tweek sitting in a wheat field cause yes. Also I like to think that Demeter has a rather calm personality and Tweek is just the opposite of that lol

(Demeter is the goddess of harvest, agriculture, fertility, an sacred law)

Clyde Donovan; Son of Hermes

I couldn’t really come up with one for Clyde, but Hermes covers so much stuff that I just felt that it fit. Also Clyde definitely takes after the Stolls

(Hermes is the god of boundaries, roads, travelers, thieves, athletes, shepherds, commerce, speed, cunning, wit, and sleep)

Token Black; Son of Pontus

I wanna see Token controlling water like a badass, but I didn’t wanna give him Poseidon cause it felt too basic

(Pontus is the primordial god of the sea)

Jimmy Valmer; Son of Agon 

This is purely because of the episode where he uses steroids for the special olympics, mans is wild

(Agon is the spirit of conflict, struggle, or contest)

Scott Malkinson; Son of Philotes

Cause the way he acted towards Sophie in Basic Cable gave me that vibe

(Philotes is the goddess of affection, friendship, and sex)

Bebe Stevens; Daughter of Aphrodite

She’s pretty and perfect, also she’d have to be Stan’s half sister lol

(Aphrodite is the goddess of love, lust, beauty, pleasure, passion and procreation)

Wendy Testaburger; Daughter of Athena

She’s just that smart, plus she’d be Kyle’s half sister lmao

(Athena is the goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and warfare)

Sophie Grey; Daughter of Nike

I really don’t have an explanation for this one, I’m sorry

(Nike is the goddess of victory)

Red McArthur; Daughter of Enyo

Red just seems confrontational, but I didn’t wanna give her Ares

(Enyo is the goddess of war)

Heidi Turner; Daughter of Eleos

Heidi must’ve had some heart of pure fucking gold to put up with Cartman

(Eleos is the spirit of pity, mercy, clemency, and compassion)

Nichole Daniels; Daughter of Hebe

I just felt like it fit cause Nichole is beautiful

(Hebe is the goddess of youth)

(can you tell I ship Bunny by who I gave Butters and Kenny???)

[ram-reads]

Since I started this series every book has been better than the last. The Blood of Olympus has ended that trend. I felt like this was the most boring book in the series. I hate it when a series ends on a low note. The Blood of Olympus does something a little different with its plot. Instead of just following the Argo II as it journeys to Athens we also follow Nico and Reyna as they bring the Athena Parthenos back to Camp Half-Blood. On their way to Athens to stop the giants from waking Gaea, the crew on the Argo II also look for a way to make sure everyone on their team lives after receiving grim information about the outcome of their quest from the goddess Nike. Meanwhile Nico is struggling with having to constantly shadow travel with little rest due to not only the time constraint but also the fact that they are being chased by a giant named Orion. I wouldn’t say that I found the plot completely boring since I was interested in Reyna, Nico, and Jason’s chapters, but it failed to hold my attention most of the time. When I put it down I struggled to pick it back up again because I just wasn’t that invested. Part of why I felt that way is because the story was way too predictable. Due to the nature of prophecies and all the dream visions the characters have, I'm used to easily being able to predict what will happen in Riordan’s books. This time around though Riordan left very little up to interpretation. I knew every step of the way what was going to happen which made every “major moment” fall flat because I knew that everything would be alright. Telling me that everything will work out early on in the story really brings the direness out of the plot for the reader. I was also unimpressed with this final book because it should’ve been the most high stakes one and it wasn’t. The Last Olympian was more high stakes than this one! How can that be possible when the enemies in this series are supposed to be tougher!?! With everything they were up against the ending was wrapped up far too nicely. I thought at the beginning of this series that Riordan’s writing had become more approachable for adults, but now I feel the opposite. Riordan holds the hand of his reader too much, and I don’t think that’ll ever change so I don’t see myself reading his books again in the future.

With this being the final book I expected to get the perspectives from all the demigods of the prophecy, but that didn’t happen. Out of the seven we only get Jason, Piper, and Leo’s perspectives. While I understand why that’s the case because the other four have had their arcs wrapped up, it still felt weird that they got no chapters in the final book. I’m not going to complain too much though because in exchange for them we got Reyna and Nico’s perspectives, and their chapters were the most engaging out of all of them. My feelings for all of the characters didn’t change in this book. I still find Leo annoying and I don’t understand how out of all seven of them he was the one that Riordan seemed to focus on the most. I’m still indifferent toward Piper. I found all of her chapters pretty boring. Jason was my favorite out of the trio but I feel like Riordan did him dirty. His chapters were usually short whereas it felt like Leo’s were always super long. On the other hand I really came to like Reyna. She had a surprising backstory and her powers were unique. Even though I don’t plan on reading anything else by Riordan I hope she continues to be an important character in his other books. Nico was my favorite character like always. His plot line was the best. I liked getting to learn more about his powers and I surprisingly really came to like his relationship with Reyna. They were like brother and sister which was sweet to see. My feelings on the romantic relationships also didn’t change. Still don’t like Piper and Jason. Leo and Calypso still feel incredibly forced. Nico also gets a small romance but I didn’t have any strong feelings for it. I guess I just don’t like the way Riordan writes romance. He built up Percy and Annabeth’s relationship really well throughout five books but now it feels like most of his romances fall near the instalove category. For a final book this was disappointing. The entirety of it felt anticlimactic. At least after reading this whole series I’ve discovered that Riordan’s writing style doesn’t work for me and I won’t be wasting anymore time on it. He gives too much of his story away. I would give this entire series 4 stars because it was enjoyable. I just wish it had ended on a stronger note.

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Nemesis (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Lady Vengeance by the people of Olympius

Glam Grunge by Aphrodite

Nene by Achlys

Age- 19 (immortal)

Location- The Underworld

Personality- Nemesis is very sarcastic and confident. She looks down upon those who are too full of hubris. She's cold and calculated when handing down her punishments. She's an aromantic asexual & single.

Nemesis is never seen without her whip, which she ties on the side of her belt as an accessory.

She has the standard abilities of a goddess. As the goddess of vengeance, revenge, retribution, & balance her abilities include umbrakinesis, power redirection, bestowing good or bad luck upon others, sensing and manipulating bodily & spiritual balance, pyrokinesis (her flames burn a dark violet), being able to tell when a person is about to cheat at something, truth sense, placing curses on objects, communicating with/shapeshifting into species of geese, temporary power neutralization, and having an innate sense for a person's weak spot. She's also well versed in hand-to-hand combat, her whip being the perfect weapon.

Nemesis doesn't care much for the other deities. She respects her parents & Hades (god of the dead). She's cordial with Hestia (goddess of the hearth), Athena (goddess of wisdom), Nike (goddess of victory), The Furies, Lykos (goddess of wolves), Dike (goddess of justice), Bia (goddess of force & power), and the messenger god Hermes. Nemesis is good friends with Hecate (goddess of magic & witchcraft), Lyssa (goddess of rage & frenzy), Methe (goddess of drunkenness), Kakia (goddess of vice & moral wrongdoing), Tyche (goddess of luck), Neféloma (goddess of space & dark matter), and Eris (goddess of strife & discord).

Her official mentor was Poena (goddess of punishment).

Nemesis also admires Themis (Titaness of justice) as well as Adikia (goddess of injustice & wrongdoing).

Since falling out with her sister Hemera (goddess of the day), Nemesis has gotten really close with her other sisters Achlys (goddess of the death mist, poison, misery, & sadness), Arae (goddess of curses & hexes), and Keres (goddess of violent death). Nemesis barely remembers her eldest sister Apate (goddess of fraud & deception) who has distanced herself from the family. Out of her brothers, she's closest to Charon (Ferryman of the Underworld). She thinks that her eldest brother Nosos (god of illness, plague, & disease) is a stiff bore.

Nemesis has several small hidden tattoos- including balance scales behind her left ear and thorned black roses on her left ankle.

She lives in her parents' palace, Mansion of Night. In her room there are obsidian torches for light fixtures with shimmering black & dark violet curtains hanging from the high arched windows. The floor is a unique design- half of it is black marble with gold inlay while the other half is white marble with gold inlay.

In Olympius, Nemesis has debt collection agencies as well as official bounty hunters on her payroll. She's also an alternate justice of the Grand Olympian Court. For other work she models for/endorses Hot Intoxication, Nocturnal Vibez, & The Moirai’s fashion brand. Nemesis also endorses Plutopack- Hades’ brand of cigarettes.

She owns a sleek motorcycle and has a pet hellhorse, a girl named Fuega.

Her favorite colors are violet, white, black, & gold.

A favorite piece of jewelry she always wears is the Stygian Iron necklace with a dagger charm that Charon made for her as an induction gift.

At Hollyhock's Bakery, Nemesis' favorite dessert are the loukoumades filled with blackberry jelly.

Her favorite frozen treat is dark chocolate pomegranate ice cream!

She loves using the black absinthe liquid eyeliner- getting the perfect dramatic winged eye make-up every time! Her favorite nail polish color is "Scorched Bourbon", a matte black color from Hot Intoxication.

Surprisingly Nemesis enjoys tai chi. When she travels to Olympius, it's often to go to the Zenesphere yoga studio.

She's quite competitive when it comes to family game night!

One of Nemesis' favorite reality competition TV shows is Blood Sacrifice.

She's also a good cook, taught by her mother Nyx (goddess of the night) of course. Nemesis' favorite meals to make (and eat) are thick & fluffy biscuits, lamb curry stew, fried chicken, rice & peas, and sweet potato moussaka.

In her free time, Nemesis enjoys playing chess, boxing, mixed martial arts, sword fighting, muy thai, listening to music, reading, wrestling (as a part of Bia's team), drag racing, knitting, and crocheting (but won't admit to those two to others).

"Everyone knows that revenge is best served branded on the enemy's flesh!"

[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.

[ivesblossom]

God and Goddess

Day 7 at @official-batfam-week​: Nightmares | Time-Travel | Mythology AU

The Gotham City Historic Museum recently opened a new exhibition, one of Greek vases and pottery. In typical Gotham fashion, Maxie Zeus attempted to steal the collection. He was stopped by Gotham City’s finest vigilantes, but during the fight, an ancient sculpture was broken, releasing the souls of the gods that it contained. Finding a host in the ones nearby, the Olympians came to possess the bodies of our heroes.

Barbara Gordon/Batgirl - Athena

Goddess of wisdom and war, it’s no surprise she choose Barbara as her vessel. Together, the two women will try to find a way to free the souls of the Gods. But meanwhile, it sure ought to cause some trouble, as Barbara’s long term boyfriend, Dick Grayson, now shares a body with Apollo, Athena’s half brother.

Bruce Wayne/Batman - Zeus

The King of the Gods would undoubtedly chose someone with as much influence as himself. Now sharing the body with Bruce Wayne, the two leaders will fight for control over their actions while trying to protect their beloved family.

Cassandra Cain/Orphan - Nike

Cassandra is a warrior, but above all, she is a winner. That was why Nike chose her body to inhabit. Both strong willed women, neither of them are comfortable with the idea of not being completely in control of their body. Besides that, Cassandra best friend, Stephanie, now is also Aphrodite, with whom Nike never really got along. 

Damian Wayne/Robin - Hades

As soon as Hades soul escaped the confinement, he took pity of the young angsty boy, with whom he couldn’t help but relate. Both were forced into the role of a villain, but neither of them ever wanted it. Their only wish was to belong somewhere and be loved. Hades eternal companion, Persephone, decided to possess the one closest to Damian hearts, in a effort to be together with her husband. And of course that Hades’ dog, Cerberus, would come along: the three headed beast now inhabits Titus, the Bat-Hound.

Dick Grayson/Nightwing - Apollo

The golden boy, beloved by all, handsome and talented. Being so similar in many aspects, it’s no wonder that Apollo would chose Dick as his host. Besides, it’s not like he would chose a body any less handsome than himself to inhabit. Of course that it will cause some trouble as now Athena and Apollo are in the bodies of two sweethearts. Will Barbara and Dick be able to at least hang around each other or will their divine companions destroy their relationship?

Helena Bertinelli/Huntress - Artemis

With a code name like Huntress and wielding a (cross)bow, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Artemis would choose Helena to be her host.

Jason Todd/Red Hood - Ares

Bloodthirsty, angry and traumatized: there could be no better match for Ares to take. But now Ares beloved Aphrodite happens to be merry-go-lucky Stephanie Brown... Who Jason can barely stand. Surely, it does mean that Jason will have to spend a lot of time with the rest of the Batfamily in a effort to separate themselves from the gods. Maybe it’s family time for Bruce and Jason make peace.

Stephanie Brown/Spoiler - Aphrodite

Likely, Aphrodite saw the beautiful girl and decided that it would be the best choice of a host. But unluckily for the beauty goddess, not only Stephanie is dating Tim (who now happens to share a body with Hephaestus, Aphrodite ugly husband) but she also hates Ares host. This human-divine love triangle will surely cause a lot of trouble.

Tim Drake/Red Robin - Hephaestus 

Smart and creative, always finding a creative solution for his problem. Yes, definitely Hephaestus thought it would be a good idea to chose Tim as his host. But it did came with an unexpected bonus: Hephaestus’ beautiful wife also happens to share a body with Tim’s girlfriend. And perhaps now that the blacksmith god looks handsome, Aphrodite will learn to love him.

Bonus: Jon Kent/Superboy - Persephone

Jon wasn’t even supposed to be in the fight, it just so happened that he was at Wayne Manor for a sleepover with Damian when it came the call of the attack in the museum. As soon as her husband possessed Damian, Persephone chose Jon to be her host. Even though the two boys didn’t admit their love for each other, Persephone could feel it. Perhaps now that they share their bodies with a couple, Damian and Jon will finally be able to confess their passion. 

[jasontoddiefor]

If the batkids had to be put in HalfBlood Cabins where would they fit and why?

OOOH YES. This was difficult.

Dick: Child of Apollo! Not because of his sunny disposition, but because he’s frankly speaking terrifying. It’s hard to pin down one defining trait for Dick, but I think with him soaring through the sky is with impeccable aim fits Apollo very well. People a drawn to him, he’s a bright light amongst the darkness.

Barbara: Child of Ares. What I admire the most about Babs is how she keeps fighting and never gives up. She keeps the batfam and her own teams going, let’s them continue fighting. Athena would be a good fit too, but I like to push Babs a little more in the war direction. If we’d go with Roman gods, Mars would probs be a better fit for her.

Jason: Child of Tyche. I thought about it and the irony of Jason being the child of the goddess of luck just fit too well. Because, in the end, he had the best luck in terrible situations. He survived on the streets and god adopted, became a hero and then he died. Is it good or bad fortune that he was revived? That he keeps on living despite everything?

Tim: Child of Athena. Tim’s a smart one, heavy on the strategic side of things. When he became Robin, he didn’t expect it to be his entire life, he’d planned to fill a gap for as long as needed. He plans and calculates, and sure he’s an utter dumbass sometimes too, but I think he’d fit the best with the Athena kids.

Steph: Child of Nemesis. I picked Nemesis because i think it fits well with Steph’s constant ups and down narratively. She got into the hero business because she wanted her father locked up again and Steph’s always had a vindictive streak.

Cass: Child of Aphrodite. Weird choice, I know. But I really like the concept of charmspeak and I think it fits Cassandra well. She doesn’t say much, but when she does, you better listen. Besides, beauty started the most terrifying wars and watching Cassandra fight is its own art form.

Duke: Child of Hermes. I originally wanted to go with Apollo, but that just seemed to obvious so Hermes it is. Duke, with no training whatsoever, joins a teenage vigilante gang and keeps making it out of dangerous situation. What I remember about Duke’s first arc is how he’s struggling to find a place to belong, and searching for his parents. He’s always on the move, traveling, and doesn’t settle.

Damian: Child of Nike. While his constant need to be the best is just how he was raised, bits of it are also just a part of who he is. He learns how to manage it with time, to think of victory not just as battles won, but also joy brought to others.

If you wanna read a really cool PJO crossover, I rec @darkmagyk’s fanfic Sons of Wisdom!

[phykios]

the marble king, part 4 [read on ao3]

Athens, 1453

Catching a current to Thera had been a simple task. Well, there had been parts to the journey somewhat more complex than he had let on to his traveling companion, but the steps taken had, all told, been rather simple for a son of the sea god. Following the currents was a matter of instinct, and in the water, he could forget mortal afflictions such as hunger or exhaustion.

Annabeth did not have the same freedoms, of course, and while Percy could extend his gifts to her for some time, he simply was not strong enough to sustain it for the entirety of the journey to Athens. Travelling by boat was somewhat riskier, as there were the Ottomans and the Venetians to avoid, not to mention all the other Latins and Franks and gods-only-knew-who-else who sought to steal some of Hellas ’ glory for themselves, but Percy was confident that he could steer a ship out of danger with far less effort than he could carry Annabeth under the sea.

“It will draw less attention to ourselves,” he had reminded her, “if we are merely one of a thousand mortals making pilgrimage to Athens.” Convinced, unhappily, she agreed.

It had been a long, quiet, terse five days, and not only because she would often refuse to speak to him.

The two of them had traveled these waters together once before, searching for a certain magical sheepskin, but Percy could never recall them being so empty. In his memory, sea monsters lurked beneath every wave, while other horrors plucked straight from the mouths of the poets and muses made their homes on every spit of land, no matter how small. But the monsters and the madness that had haunted heroes such as Jason, Odysseus, Aeneas, and all the others, appeared to have simply vanished into the mist. Even the waves themselves were unusually pacified, allowing them to pass without too much trouble.

It all made for quite the unsettling picture. It was, at once, both empty and not empty; he felt as though they were standing upon the shore as the water was pulled out to the sea, in preparation for the monstrous tsunami which would follow. If a man were able to live in that moment, the calm before the storm, the precipice before the cliff, the sharply receding tide before the flood, then he would know how the sea felt to Percy in this moment.

“Look, Annabeth,” he said, in an attempt to cajole her into conversation. “There, to the West--we are coming up on Delos.”

She did not respond.

“Do you not remember? Apollo’s lions burst forth from the stone and nearly ate us for trespassing.”

All quiet. When he looked to her, she had her head tipped back against the wood of the ship, eyes closed, hands fiddling with the frayed edge of her shawl, a thin, faded grey strip of fabric. She must have woven it herself; he thought he recognized her patterns as they shifted in the bright sunlight, but they had grown distorted by time, the threads stained with brown, dry blood.

With a sigh, he turned back to the sail, adjusting it, the scrape of rope soothing to his ears. The sea was never meant to be so silent, yet as the presence of the gods had fled the last standing city of their once great empire, as his father’s palace now sat cold and empty at the bottom of the sea, so too had the sea seemed to have lost all its magic.

No, not all of it, he thought. Was he himself not living proof that magic still lived in this land? He could yet still breathe underwater, could still command his boat and navigate the seas with more skill than the most experienced captain. There had been the terrible moment, a painful and fleeting thing, in the heartbeats between leaping into the sea with his arms around Annabeth and hitting the water, where he wondered if, rather than securing their escape, he had led them to their deaths instead, that he had lost the powers Annabeth had accused him of relying on too strongly.

But of course, they had not. Percy was of the sea, the ancient salt and spray his blood and his breath, and the power of Poseidon would remain within him always, even if the god himself did not.

In silence, they made their way then to Piraeus. As Percy had predicted, they blended in quite well with their fellow pilgrims, and if any person thought it odd that their vessel was only crewed by two, they did not mention it. At the very least, they were spared from walking in the hot sun, as Percy managed to scrounge up a few coins from the meager money Annabeth had found to rent them passage on a horse cart which traveled into the city. Still tired from the long journey, she lay her head on his shoulder, their backs pressed against the wooden cart.

Percy had never seen Athens before. He had seen the painting, which hung in Annabeth’s and her siblings’ villa, and he had heard her speak of it, many many times. Based on how often she spoke of it, he felt as though he had been there a thousand times before, had seen its winding streets and mighty marble monuments. By the gods, they had been tasked with crafting little miniatures of the Parthenon as a way of testing their fine motor movements. The way she talked, the things she built, surely she must have seen it for herself. “Bet you’re glad to be back,” he said, not really expecting an answer. “I’ve never been to Athens before.”

“Neither have I,” she mumbled.

He turned to look at her, shocked. “You haven’t?”

“Never had the chance.”

“But--I thought--the way you speak of it--”

“I’ve always wanted to see it, of course,” she said. Annabeth kept her eyes on her hands, playing with the increasingly fraying ends of her shawl. “All children of Athena do. But I have studied the temple more keenly than anyone I know. I know everything there is to know about the Acropolis. Every temple, every column, every brick was placed with the finest care and the foremost precision.” She smiled then, a small, creeping thing, and it seemed to lighten her whole face. “I cannot wait to see it.”

Like this, so soft in the face, almost dreamy, she was honestly quite pretty, he thought to himself. “Tell me about it,” he asked, as soft as a puff of wind, as though he had never heard her speak of it before.

Her shawl dropped to her lap. “We begin at the propylea,” she said, tracing the outline with her fingers, “the great winding road up the Western side of the mountain. Immediately to your right, there is the temple of Athena Nike, then once you enter beneath the great archway…” She sighed, almost ardent. “There, you would see it: the statue of Athena, and behind her, the Parthenon. The columns are of the Doric order, and thus unadorned at their top by any sort of frivolous curls or curves. Above them sit the metopes, which ring the whole building, and each marble frieze tells of a great epic; the Titanomachy, the Amazonomachy, the Trojan war. And the colors,” her face broke out into a true smile, and her eyes crinkled at the corners, shining and silver. “Such beautiful colors, red and gold and green. Oh, and the pediments! We must not forget the pediments.”

“The pediments?” He frowned. “I do not know that word.”

“It refers to the triangular space between the portico and the roof. Do you not remember the door of the Big House?”

Yes, he recalled now, though he didn’t see what all the fuss was over the empty space was. “Are the pediments truly so important?”

“These ones are,” she said, “for the western pediment depicts the story of our parents.”

“Ah.”

Now this was a story which she loved to hold over him, retelling every chance she could, to make sure that he never forgot which of their divine parents were revered by the city of Athens.

“It is beautiful, Perseus, you shall see,” she said, with a teasing grin. “It is said that the bodies and the horses are rendered so perfectly, I cannot imagine that you will not be able to see the look on your father’s face as he realizes he has lost the contest for Athens.”

“Yes, well,” he harrumphed. “It had better be worth it, then.”

“It will be,” she assured him. “Once we round the Areopagus , you will be able to see the propylea above the mountain, and the perfect point of the Parthenon above that.”

When they approached the Areopagus proper, some hour or so later, she actually leaned forward, going up on her knees to better see the view from their cart.

“Here it is,” she said. Her whole body quivered, as tense as a bow on a string. “Here it is.”

He smiled at her excitement, as though she were a child.

Almost immediately, he noticed something was wrong. Her shoulders were tight, raised up to her ears as she went deathly still. “Annabeth?” She did not answer him. “Annabeth?”

Joining her at the lip of the cart, he looked up at the Acropolis.

He frowned. “What are those walls?”

The many, many times she had described the Acropolis to him, she had never once mentioned the stone walls. Brown and grey, they rose up out of the sheer cliffside, notched indentations in the top like teeth, as though they were devouring the cliff-face whole. On the northern and southern ends, two large towers lorded over the rest.

Too enthralled in the stone walls, he did not notice as their cart traveled onward in the shadow of the cliff. “Where are we going?” he asked, looking towards the horse at the front of the cart. “Was that not the propylea ?”

It was only then that he saw Annabeth. Pale as a ghost, she was, her knuckles white from gripping the edge of the wood, and her face was set in a terrible grimace. Her eyes bulged out as though she saw a monster, her chin trembling as she opened her mouth and gasped out, “Those are not supposed to be there.”

“What isn’t?”

“The walls.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. He always knew her to be solid, immovable, strong as a statue, but now she looked as though she could be brought low by a mere puff of wind.

“Perhaps they are new,” he offered.

But she fell silent again, glaring at the cliffside as they passed. Her hands, now resting in her lap, clenched and unclenched over and over again, twitching in the manner that suggested she was about to draw her knife, though what target had drawn her ire he could only guess--presumably, she dreamt of stabbing the fool who had chosen to add walls to the Acropolis. Her jaw was hard, set so firmly he thought he could hear her grinding her teeth behind her lips. Antagonistic as they were, he had been on the receiving end of that glare more times than he cared to remember, and he was again glad that they had chosen to set aside their rivalry for now. Eventually, the driver let them off on the eastern side of the mountain. For a moment, he made to help her down from the cart, as he had been taught, but looking at her face, he decided not to risk the insult, allowing her to scramble down to the ground by herself, and side-by-side, they made the long trek to the Acropolis, just another two pilgrims on the final leg of their journey.

Unfortunately, their troubles were merely beginning.

Cresting the hill, the midafternoon sun beating down on them, Annabeth stiffened against him, so severely he thought she might faint. “What,” she hissed, “is that monstrosity ?”

He blinked, squinting through the bright light, though he did not see anything so obviously offensive to the senses--but then, he did not know the field of architecture nearly as well as she did. “What is it?”

“That!”

On top of the building immediately before them rose a bell tower, a cross sitting proudly above it. Surely she could not be referring to that, as the streets of Constantinople had been practically littered with bell towers and crosses. One would be hard pressed to find a corner which did not have a church with its own bell and steeple. “The tower?”

“No, the columns,” she scoffed. “Of course the malakes tower! What is it doing on top of the Parthenon?”

“Annabeth,” he said slowly. “It is a bell tower. Surely, you know what a bell tower is.”

She flushed. “Yes, I know what a bell tower is, phykios , but what I do not know is which imbecile thought to put one up on top of the Parthenon!” She pointed, glaring at it. “It is not even symmetrical!”

He tilted his head, looking. She was right; it did seem oddly placed, given what he had heard of the temple, far back and to the left.

“This is all wrong,” she fretted, worrying her lip between her teeth. “This is--this is wrong. We are supposed to enter through the propylea from the West, into the Precinct of Artemis Brauronia, then pass the Athena Promachos on the northern edge , and--and the pediment--”

Oh dear. She was shaking, now, a leaf on the wind. It was a risky move, to be sure, but he rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. She trembled so violently, he thought he could feel it in his bones. “Here,” he said, “let us go inside. We can sit down, catch our breath.”

The fact that she did not refuse him was more concerning than if she had turned around and stabbed him.

Walking into the--the church, he supposed it was, he too felt a little uneasy. The western pediment, the one she had spoken so highly of, the one which was supposed to portray the origins of their ancient feud, a good third of it was missing, plucked straight from the middle of the frieze, the faded pale statues headless, like corpses in the grip of death.

Percy had seen many churches before. Few could compare to St. Sophia, but in essence, all churches looked somewhat the same. He did not have the fancy words for it, not like Annabeth, but he could recognize their shared features should he see them. This was…

He did not know what to think of it, truly.

He supposed that St. Sophia had spoiled him, all that light streaming in through the dome of the roof. The churches of Constantinople were not places which he frequented, but he found himself in St. Sophia for pagan-related duties more frequently than he cared to be, and had become used to that kind of space, so open and airy. By contrast, here the ceiling was flat, dark, nearly oppressive. Rich frescoes and golden mosaics surrounded them, their strange, frightening faces staring down at them, in cold, apathetic judgement. Pilgrims streamed in through the narrow entrance, pressed so close together that Annabeth was forced to grab onto his arm for fear of being separated. Still she shook, shivering as though she were feverish, and before he could think better of it, he placed an arm around her shoulder, drawing her off to the side, away from the large crush of people. Gently steering her, he brought them to the back left corner of the main gallery, and dropped to his knees in order to better blend in with the crowds, pleased when she took his lead without any further prompting.

“This is all wrong,” she whispered. “This is so wrong.”

He squeezed her shoulder, placing his head against hers. “I’m so sorry.”

“Those walls,” her breath hitched, “those hideous, ugly walls--”

“I know,” he said, “I know.”

“I--I didn’t think that--I never thought that, that it might have changed. That it might be different.” She turned to him, eyes wild. “I never--the Parthenon, it’s… you do not understand, the Parthenon is perfect. It is the most perfect piece of architecture ever conceived, ever planned, ever built. The architects, their understanding of mathematics is unparalleled, even to this day. It is perfect .”

He did understand, but now was not the time to point that out. Now was simply the time to listen.

“All children of Athena, we can only dream of creating something even half as beautiful. The Parthenon isn’t supposed to change, it is supposed to endure. Survive.” She swallowed, eyes blinking back furious tears. “Look at what they have done to her altar. Her temple.” Turning from him, her hand swiped at her face, and he looked away. “And these horrible, horrible bodies,” she hissed, after a moment. “The statues of the Parthenon are meant to embody the perfection of the human form. What man do you know looks like that?”

Towards the end of the room was the greatest offence yet. As with all churches, this one too had a portrait of the moment of death of their trinity god, his arms fastened to a wooden cross, his head hung in shame and despair. At his feet, a woman wrapped in blue looked on him in painful grief, her hands outstretched as though she could catch the frozen stream of glittering red which poured from a black mark in his side, their features flattened and reconstituted with different colored stones, thick lines criss crossing their bodies.

She shook her head, disbelieving. “My mother would never have let this insult go unpunished. She must still be here. She has to be.”

Now her tears had dried, and her mouth was set in a thin, grim line, stubborn and serious. No longer did she shake apart on the cold, stone floor, but was still, poised, gathering energy about her as she waited for the proper moment to strike. Oh, he did not have the heart to attempt to convince her out of her plan.

“Stay here. I will see if I can find a way to speak to her.” And so she left him there in the gallery of the church, off to seek some quiet corner.

Unfortunately, she had not specified for how long she would be gone. And truthfully, she should have known better--they were all saddled with the half-blood’s curse, the plight of wandering attention and nervous energy. To order Percy to stay put was simply a folly. He vowed that he would not leave the Acropolis, for it simply was not that big, and they were sure to find each other easily, but he could not be blamed for indulging this small bout of an itinerant spirit.

Walking out of the church, before he could exit entirely, something gold caught his eye, and he looked up. Almost directly above the entrance was a raised part of the roof, reminiscent of the dome with which he was most familiar, but instead of sunlight, the dome was lined with gold and pearl and lapis lazuli in what even he had to admit was a stunning mosaic. The same woman was depicted here, in the same stunning blue robe, though she looked down on them not in grief, but in deep, pensive thought. No, not pensive, he amended--calculating. With her straight nose and keen eyes, she seemed to stare deep into his very heart and soul, considering all the contents she found there, and he was unsure whether or not she found him wanting.

Perhaps it was merely because he had been thinking of her so often these last few days, but for some strange reason, the woman in the mosaic reminded him of Annabeth. He had seen that piercing gaze on her face many times, one that she shared with all of her siblings. It was a trait inherited directly from their shared mother, the one they wore when they were crafting the very finest of their battle strategies.

Unnerved, he continued on, stepping out of the church into its looming shadow.

In front of him rose another one of Annabeth’s hated towers, round in the way he had come to expect from fortified walls, with soldiers eyeing the pilgrims warily from their positions at the top, though he doubted these men had seen much in the way of fighting. Although, who was he to tell. He had thought, once upon a time, that churches were meant to be sacred spaces to men of god, places where no blood could be shed, nor hateful action be taken. Of course, he knew better now.

Wandering round the Acropolis did little to ease his strange mood. It could not have been a more different experience than exploring his father’s palace beneath the sea; rising high above the city, rather than submerged beneath the depths, where one was empty, ruined and rotting, the other was full, crowded with masses of travelers and worshippers, its fortifications kept seemingly well. And yet, as he walked, still he sensed that strange emptiness that he had felt down below. The people who surrounded him may as well have been ghosts for all that he could know them.

Unbidden, his footsteps brought him past a collection of red roofed houses, squat and low, then round to a strangely shaped building on the northern side of the Acropolis. He frowned, walking down the slim stone steps, taking in the columns whose spaces had been filled with grey stone.

He had not lied to Annabeth when he said he had never been to Athens before, and he surely did not have her thorough knowledge of the ancient buildings which decorated it, but he knew, deep in his bones, that what he was looking at here was wrong. Beyond the ugly stone, it came too far forward, as though it were a living, breathing creature, swallowing the ancient marble over the course of a thousand years. Tilting his head, he tried to put it from his mind as he considered the four pillars which stood before him.

There was something behind those walls, he knew, though he did not know how, something which called to him, deep in his soul. If he closed his eyes, he thought that he could smell seawater, imagined that he could hear the gurgling of a spring, deep beneath the foundations of the earth, pouring forth as though it were a beating heart.

“Percy.”

He blinked.

Annabeth stood before him, scowling. “Did I not say to stay where you were?”

The sun laid low on the horizon, casting long shadows over him, though he could not have been standing here for more than a few minutes. “I… I apologize,” he said. His thoughts were fuzzy, as though he were emerging from an unintended nap. “I did not realize how long it had been. Did you find what you were seeking?”

Her scowl deepened further, before dropping, as though it were a mask, leaving nothing but weariness behind. “No,” she said, her gaze dropping to the ground. “My mother would not come.”

“Perhaps we can find a market,” he suggested, though he knew it would be a fruitless gesture, “and procure a sacrifice. Maybe that would entice her to appear.”

But she shook her head, her lips pulled into a frown. “That would not be wise. I fear that if she allowed the desecration of her temple in this way without repercussion, there is very little that would call her down from Olympus.” She turned to join him, then, standing shoulder to shoulder as she, too, beheld the strange facade.

“Tell me about this place,” he requested. Speaking at length on architecture was, after all, one of her favorite pastimes, and he did so hate to see that sorrowful look on her face. “I feel as if I… know it, somehow.”

“I am not surprised,” she said. “This is--was--is the Erechtheion, the temple dedicated to both of our divine parents.”

“I see,” he teased, hoping to make her smile. “And you said that the Athenians did not like my father.”

Gods be praised, it worked. Trembling, as though she were fighting it, a smile did raise the corners of her mouth. “I said nothing of the sort, merely that the early Athenians vastly preferred my mother.”

“And yet, here lies a temple to his glory.”

She lightly smacked him. “There were shrines to the other gods as well, phykios .”

“You cannot take this from me, skjaldmær. I shall go round proclaiming its glory to all who would listen to the tale of Poseidon and his Athenian temple.”

“Oh, hush.” But she was grinning now, and his heart rose at the sight.

They stood there for some time, as the sun continued to set over the complex, the shadows of the towers lengthening with every minute. The longer they stood, the more the question nagged at him, filling him with a desire and a longing that he had not known for some time, a yearning which reached beyond his skin and bones deep into the core of him. “Why do I know this place?” he asked her.

Equally spellbound, she answered, “Legend held that this is where our parents’ great rivalry began. They say that beneath the Erechtheion lies the three marks of the sea god’s trident, under the branches of the very first olive tree.”

“Here, you say?” How extraordinary. Here was the spot which would come to define their antagonism, a mighty tree the seeds of which were planted thousands of years ago, far beyond the memory of any living man, recorded in stone and letter. Here they were, two souls adrift in the uncaring winds of time, and yet, together, they had come full circle, to the place where it all began. Who of the ancient Athenians could have guessed, all those generations ago, that their choice of patron would shape the course of history, as a river through a valley? Who among them would have known how their decision would take root throughout the years, until it blossomed within Percy and Annabeth, children who, despite following the same gods, would have been as total strangers to them? The thought filled him with an emotion he could not quite name, only that he knew he was glad for her presence.

“Thank you,” she murmured, as quiet as a breath, “for looking after me. I am sorry to have dragged you here on nothing but a whim and a wish.”

Acting on some instinct he did not know he possessed, he reached down, and took her hand. It was warm in his, her heart beating strongly through the tips of her fingers. “Think nothing of it. We two must stay together, should we not?”

“We should indeed.”

She looked on him without any distaste or annoyance for what must have been the first time in a very long time, and it sent a warm thrill through him, as though the shadows around them had receded, bathing the two of them in sunlight. “I have been thinking,” he said, inspired by this place and this time and the thought of their legacy. “If indeed, the gods that we know and worship have truly… have truly gone,” and his voice grew thick at the thought. He cleared his throat, and was grateful she did not comment on it. “Then we should continue to travel together. This truce that we have struck, it has proven beneficial in more ways than I could have predicted, and if we are to survive whatever comes next, I have a feeling that we should stay together. If you agree, Annabeth, let us, here and now, tie off these threads of our history, as one would to a tapestry. Let us end this rivalry of ours.”

She looked at him, a cascade of feelings crossing her face, too quick for him to name, until she settled on something which he would define as apprehension, perhaps. Gazing into his eyes, she searched for some hint that he would betray her, he supposed, though he could not blame her for it. His proposal was a novel one, and bold as well. Should her mother get word of this agreement, Annabeth could find herself in deep trouble, as Athena’s hatred of Percy himself was no secret.

This close, the setting sun seemed to reflect in her eyes, transforming them from steel to silver, a kaleidoscope of glittering stars. This close, he realized he could trace the flush on her cheeks as it traveled towards the crooked bridge of her nose, and he saw that there were freckles there, beneath the tanned skin.

“A plan worthy of Athena,” she said after some consideration. “I agree to your terms.”

And thus, it was ended.

“To think,” he murmured, “that such a legendary rivalry could have been resolved so easily.”

“It is strange,” she admitted, “that along with my mother and our ancestral home, I have lost this as well.” And she looked out over the city, despondent.

He frowned, as he did not think of their antagonism as something to lose; rather, he felt as though the ancient fields had been overturned, the old soil furrowed, giving way to new and fertile ground, full of endless possibility.

“Well,” he said, hoping to put a smile back on her face, "my first act, in the shedding of our rivalry, is to pledge myself to our future empress, Ana Zabeta Palaiologina." Then, in a fit of insanity, he raised her hand to his lips, and laid a kiss there.

She did not smile at him; rather, she rolled her eyes, pulling her hand from his grasp, and wiping it on the front of her dress.

“Where to then, your majesty? The Morea?”

“Enough,” she said. “I had given up that plan some time ago.”

“Oh?”

“As you and I have both noted, the despotes will not give us the army that we seek, nor the Legion, nor any of the rulers of this Christendom. I fear,” she sighed, biting her lip, “I fear that Constantinople is lost to us forever.” She looked to him again, clear eyes shining. “We have lost, Perseus. The gods have gone, the empire has fallen, and we have lost.”

And that, he supposed, was that. The reign of the Olympians was ended. They were well and truly alone.

But, he thought, at least they were together.

“What now?” Endless possibility, he thought. How frightening. “Do we look for the agoge ?”

“I do not see how we can,” she admitted. “Chiron could be anywhere, and I have not the faintest idea of where to begin.”

Neither, unfortunately, did he. They could have been anywhere in the world, but the world was a vast, vast place. “Let us find some place to rest. Tomorrow, we can decide what to do, but tonight, we have earned our respite.”

Their business thus concluded, they wound their way down the cliff, to the city below, in search of some place to rest their heads.

It was not terribly difficult for them to find an inn. Claiming tiredness, Annabeth bade him to go and get them something to eat. “Anything in particular?” he asked.

“Something cheap,” was her perfunctory response. Collapsing onto their shared bed, which was, unfortunately, the only one which had been available in that particular establishment, she turned away from him, curling into herself, and sensing the dismissal for what it was, he left her to it, setting out for food.

Immediately, he wished he had been able to entice her to come with him.

Athens in the evening was quite beautiful. The air had cooled considerably, the low light casting the homes and streets in shades of red and pink and gold. It was smaller than he had expected the great city to be, however. He had been expecting something grander even than Rome, or the city of Constantine, yet what he saw put him more in mind of a small, backwater town. Even to his untrained eye, the buildings were mismatched and patchwork, different styles of marble sewn together haphazardly, unsymmetrically and non-uniformly--a cardinal sin, he gathered, to the keen mind of an architect. From the way Annabeth had spoken of it, Athens by rights should have been the virtual center of the known world, the shining jewel of Hellas and beyond, as it had been in centuries long past. Whatever it may have lacked in people or in great thinkers nowadays, however, there was at least plenty of food to be found. The air here was thick with the heady smells of garlic, salt, and onion, transporting him back to his childhood home, to his mother and her kitchen.

Gods, his mother. In all this time, he had not even spared a thought to her or her husband or their daughter. He had sent them from Constantinople prior to the siege, but he did not know where they had landed. Were they safe? Healthy? Had little Esther been able to sleep through the night without being plagued by any more nightmares? Was his mother able to make her pastries still, with cinnamon and mahleb?

Would he ever see them again?

Without much conscious thought, his wanderings brought him to a stall on the edge of the populated area, every inch covered in reams of fabric, richly hued, in shades of copper and cream and grey. He had passed by hundreds others just like it, so he was not certain why this one had caught his eye. Perhaps coming across this particular stall had simply coincided with an idea he had been concocting, a coincidence of good timing and sudden fortune. Perhaps it had been the length of blue cloth he had seen behind the elderly woman who sat in the center of her tent, eyeing him warily. “See something that piques your fancy?” she asked, though she made no further move to greet him.

“Oh,” he said, “no, thank you. I was merely looking.”

“Finest cloths in the city,” she said, a bold claim, he thought, since he was quite certain he had seen these exact fabrics on display in every little tent he had come across so far. “I make them all myself.”

“I do not have much in the way of money,” he said, hoping she would leave him be.

Oddly enough, that only seemed to excite her. She turned over her shoulder, pulling the bolt of blue down from behind her, and holding it out to him. In the evening light, he thought it might resemble the color of a starless sky, a deep, inky blue. “You have good taste--this color is very fashionable these days.”

“Truly, I have no money,” he said, even as an absurd thought began to form in his mind. The color, he thought, that blue, it would look quite beautiful set against a certain blonde braid.

She sighed. “What do you have?”

“Huh?”

“The malakes noblewoman who ordered this from me has declined to send someone to retrieve it for her for several days now,” she said, “and so it sits in the back of my stall, unsold and taking up valuable space, when it could be in your hands instead, or draped around the shoulders of your beautiful wife.”

Percy blushed. “She’s not--I mean--”

“But because I am a generous businesswoman,” she interrupted, smirking, “show me what you have, and we may be able to come to some arrangement.”

The way she looked at him, all-knowing and altogether too familiar, compelled him to obey. Counting his coins, he laid out his paltry offering before her, the smattering of silver stavrata, Venetian lira, and smaller, duller bronze coins making for a pitiful display, when his fingers fumbled, and a golden drachma tumbled out of his hands, coming to rest before her.

He froze, praying that she would not see it, or if she did, that she might mistake it for an Italian florin, and leave it be.

Naturally, of course, that is what she picked up, her eyes settling upon it almost instantly.

“Well, well, well,” she said, looking at the coin with curiosity. “It has been some time since I have seen one of these.”

“Ah,” Percy started, flushing. That coin was not meant for mortals, and they had precious few of them to spare. “That--I--that is to say--”

“If you are looking for the gods,” she went on, peering at him with new eyes, “I could have saved you the trouble. They are not here. In truth, they have not blessed this land with their presence for some time.”

He blinked, astonished.

With a kindly smile, she tucked the drachma back into his coin purse, swiping some of the lira for herself. “I think this makes for an adequate trade, no?”

Still, he was rendered dumb and speechless.

“Keep an eye on your money, traveler,” she said. “You never know if you will find more.”

The noise of the city was dwindling, down from a lively hum to a low murmur, and the light turned even cooler as the cold moon rose over the cliff. Annabeth would most likely be worried at his long delay, or at least starving. But he could not force himself to move yet. “You’re--” he stammered, “you--”

“Yes, child,” she said. “Now, you should be headed off. The guards do not take kindly to stragglers wandering the streets so late at night.”

There were a million things he wished to ask this woman, important things, questions of ancestry and whether or not there were more of their kind nearby, but all that he was able to say was the terrible, sad news that he carried within his heart. “Constantinople has gone,” he said. “The agoge has vanished.”

Bittersweet, she smiled, folding the shawl for him into a tight bundle. “I know.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “I had a dream.” And thus, she bade him good night.

In a daze, Percy wandered back to the inn where they were staying. On his way back, he had stopped to purchase some food like he promised her he would, settling a loaf of hard, cheap bread and some kefalotiri , as that was all he could afford, but at least it would tide them over for the night, until they decided on the next course of action.

When he returned, Annabeth was no longer lying prone on their bed, but sat upright, her back against the wall, eyes closed. She opened one as he entered, her hand automatically sneaking towards the folds of her dress where he knew she kept her knife, until, upon recognizing him, she relaxed, letting her hand fall back down to her lap.

“Here,” he said, placing the parcels on the bed between them, though he kept the shawl tucked away against his chest, for now. “Dinner.”

“Thank you,” she said, quietly, taking the bread, picking at it with her fingers, slipping the teeniest of bites into her mouth. After some time, she noticed that he was not following suit. “You’re not eating.”

It was not a question. “Ah, I ate mine as I returned to the inn,” he said, easily.

She stared at him, not at all convinced.

“In any case,” he went on, eager to change the topic, “I have been thinking about what we should do next.” He had done nothing of the sort, but hopefully it would take her mind off of the obvious.

“So have I.” She put the bread aside, drawing her knees up to her chest, and hugging them. “I would like to go home.”

Percy frowned. Surely she did not mean Sigeion . She had already indicated her feelings towards the search for Chiron and the rest of camp, namely, that it would be a useless, fruitless, frustrating search, and surely she did not mean Constantinople, lost to the ages. What other home was there?

“You know that my mortal family does not hail from here.”

“I do.” It was not a piece of information well hidden; one only had to look at her pale skin, her blonde hair, and her looming figure to know that she was, in all likelihood, not one of the Hellenes by blood.

She would not look at him, her fingers tapping random patterns over the fabric of her dress. “If he still lives, I should like to see my father.”

“Oh.” That was… unexpected. To anyone who knew her, there were a few core tenants of Annabeth as a person; her love of architecture was one of them, and her distaste for her father was another.

“When I--left him, he lived in a city called Uppsala, far to the North of here.”

“How far?”

She gave him a rueful smile. “Svealand.”

Well. That was indeed quite far. “You mean to travel to Svealand? On your own? That would take near on half a year.”

“To the East of Constantinople, there is an old trading route once used by the Norsemen to travel between their lands and ours,” she said. “A river by the name of Danapris .”

“A river?” he asked, skeptically.

“One that spans nearly the entire continent. In the time of   Basileios II Porphryogennitus, this was the route which delivered his legendary Varangian guard. I know for a fact it has fallen out of use, and the tribes of the Kievan Rus’ no longer roam that area.”

He had never heard of those people before--not that it mattered. “Annabeth, it does not matter how fearsome and ferocious you believe you are, you cannot travel all the way to Svealand by yourself.”

She scowled at him, lips pulling back into a snarl. “I have done so once before.”

“The whole road? By yourself?”

“Well,” she hesitated, “no. Not the whole thing. But I traveled some of it, before Thalia found me.”

“Be that as it may,” for he knew she would attempt to traverse the whole way by herself, merely to spite him, “as Thalia once did for you, let me do as well. I shall accompany you to Svealand.”

Her eyes widened. “Percy, no. You should be looking for Chiron.”

“As you yourself have said, he could be anywhere,” said Percy, “and I may have all the time in the world to find him. In the meantime, I should very much like to see you safely returned to your father.”

“I told you, the road is long since abandoned.”

“And you’ll forgive me if I am skeptical of that fact. Not of you,” he said at the look on her face, “nor your vast pools of knowledge, but even you cannot predict whether or not you shall meet trouble along the road, and it would comfort me greatly if I were able to come along.” Sourly, she opened her mouth as if to argue, but he interrupted her. “Annabeth. You cannot convince me otherwise. I am coming with you.”

Eyes narrowed, she glared at him, before acquiescing. “Fine.”

“Good.”

“Then we should rest. We shall leave at first light on the morrow.” On that abrupt note, she flopped down onto the bed, turning over once again, her back to him. “Good night, Perseus.”

The air was charged between them, with what he could not say, though he could nearly feel it shaking, as taught as bowstring. “Good night,” he said in response. Then, blowing out their room’s solitary candle, he laid himself down to sleep as well, his back to her, and thought not of the bundle of cloth he had purchased on a whim, not of how her golden braid might look against the dark blue fabric, and not of the sweet smile she had given him in the shadow of the Erechtheion. No, he thought of none of these things. Not at all.

[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.

[eternallycluelesssoul]

Q) What if I am a mortal blessed (or cursed, mostly) by some of the greek gods?

A) Zeus- I am hot headed, somewhat.

Poseidon- I once drowned in knee depth water....

Hades- INTROVERT, loyal, love black things.

Hera- I am the jealous type.

Demeter- I cook okay. I do gardening.

Hestia- I love a cozy gathering with my favourite people.

Athena- I love books, prefer more brain than action

Ares- no

Artemis- I like the wilderness.

Apollo- AWKWARD LAME JOKES. Psst, I have a talking arrow.

Hephaestus- ..... I think I have not gotten myself burnt, in a while.

Dionysus- .....somewhat crazy, ig.

Aphrodite-.... I am a potato. Everybody loves potatoes.

Hermes- Jokes, pranks, travelling.

Hecate- mYsTeRiOuS lmao

Hypnos- SLEEPING, always.

Pan- I hate pollution. I like forests and mountains more than cities. Mostly, I PANic lol

Eros- I cherish love.

Thanatos-...... I guard the doors to my heart xD

Nike- I hate losing. But I won't mind a fair match, because I lose mostly xD

Nemesis- lolllllll yeah break my trust and see all Tartarus breaking loose.

Janus- iNdEcIsIvE

[beyoncesdragon]

Mémoire d’une odeur (Harry Styles x Reader)

Requested: Nah fam 

Warnings: It's sad. and melancholic. and I listened to The Impossible; main titles by Fernando Velázquez when I wrote it. Also, I have the perfume and it's heaven in a bottle. You have been warned

My Masterlist this can also be found on my Wattpad 

The turquoise blue bottle caught the light of the afternoon sun and seemed to glow, drawing colourful specks on Harry's face. With a quick move he grabbed it and took it off the table next to him. The slender bottle rested cold and heavy in his hand, the golden lid screwed open and loose on its neck. It seemed to him, as if it's sweet smell would waver around him like a protecting bubble of memories. Staring into the sunset, Harry felt tears prickling in his eyes – just very soft, a sweet reminder that he missed you still. And whenever he rose the bottle up to his nose, he felt you again. Alessandro and Alberto Morillas, the master perfumer had done a wonderful job in capturing the unique smell that you had carried around you, despite never meeting you. They had went through different scent palettes with him, whenever he described a scent. First he had almost found it overwhelming, but with time, he found his routine and place in between the hundreds of scents. He remembered mentioning jasmine at some point and Alessandro and Alberto had showed him a palette of over twenty different types of jasmine flowers and combinations.

He had went through tea jasmine, the Arabic jasmine, the star jasmine when he had finally found the right one: the Indian coral jasmine, smelling the strongest at night. And he remembered you vividly, as if you just kissed his cheek and ran away. The scent was mixed with camomile. It came from the shampoo you always used, and the camomile tea, you favoured. Especially with a little bit of honey. The whole flat always smelled like it, a heavenly mixture of honey and camomile. In between all the camomile and jasmine, there was the first shy scent of orange and coral, coming through when you wore it for some time. Those where the oils you had used on a daily basis, especially the orange oil. Harry had often watched how you applied it in front of the mirror, after the make-up and hair process you went through every morning. It was a drop on your left wrist, a drop on the right wrist, then you rubbed them together and up to your neck, dabbing the oil on both sides of your neck and under the jawline. Mixed with the orange and coral, there was the faith smell of musk, whenever you stole one of his perfumes again and it hadn't faded completely. It was Harry's personal little speck of himself among the memory of you, the little him, he had needed there as if to be close to you again. Another scent that Harry had almost forgotten, but had to be in it, was vanilla. It was a scent that had never belonged specifically to you, but had always been around you somehow. Maybe it came from the coffee you liked with a little bit of vanilla, maybe it came from something at your workplace that smelled like vanilla. You had never smelled it, even though you tried, but Harry had. Like a base note, there was a faith smell of cedar. Whenever you travelled and wherever you went, you had your little jewellery box with you. It was made of cedar wood, and whatever clothing item you had wrapped around it for protection, carried the distinctive balsamic scent for days. Harry had always made fun of how you smelled like a tree walking around, but he had liked the scent. It was calming, made him relax and wherever he smelt it, he couldn't help but turn around as if to search for you – only to then realise that there was no use in searching for you anymore. You wouldn't come back, never again. The very last scent he had named was sandalwood. You had always hated the scent the car fresheners and never found it anyhow appealing. Until (and Harry could still remember the slightly embarrassed look of yours) you had bought a sandalwood diffuser. The scent was just very soft and faint, very unlike the dominant perfume that is spread by those freshener trees, you had hated. It wouldn't cling to the clothes and fade completely after an hour if you took it out. You had loved that thing and never took it out of the car. It's distinctive soft and warm, scent immediately reminded Harry of you, not only your scent but your persona as well. Smooth, calming, precious sweet.

The bottle in Harry's hand seemed to grow heavier the longer he thought about you, and he placed it back on the table. Tomorrow it would launch for the world, thousands of people would buy it. Thousands would carry the smell of camomile, orange, jasmine, coral, cedar and sandalwood. Thousands would be able to smell that speck of musk, that tiny piece of Harry from between all of you. But no one would know about the one true memory that lived inside of Harry and now, partly, inside of the blueish green bottle with the golden lid. In fact, you could count the people who knew about you and Harry on two hands: Anne, Gemma, Mitch, Sarah, Tyler, Sammy, Jeff, Alessandro and Antonio. The public had never seen the two of you, not when you started to date first, not during anytime of your two year counting relationship and not in the end, when Harry drove to the hospital after a truck had rammed your car and smashed it off a small cliff. They hadn't gotten wind of him and his family attending to your funeral and leaving with puffy red eyes. And they hadn't seen him travel to Athena to stand in front of the temple of Athena Nike, his fingers brushing over one of the columns, the furthest one on the left side, his fingers crossing the path that you brushed over a year ago. It had been a gift of his to you, to visit the temple of Athena Nike with you. The picture he took of you , in front of the tall building was still printed out as a polaroid and carefully fixed in his leathery book. It was right below a little message you had scribbled into the book, you being the first and only person to ever be allowed to take a look into it.

"Harry, you are seriously talented and I love you. Cut your hair. All my love xx"

And so he had and you'd loved it.

He looked back to the bottle and carefully brushed with his finger over the grooved glass. You would've loved this bottle, the design and the colours. He could almost imagine you saying it, brows furrowed slightly, index finger caressing over the glass. "Looks Greece to me, doesn't it? I love the gold, it's extra. Like you, H." and he would nudge you and maybe, no most definitely, press a kiss on your cheek. With a soft sigh, Harry closed the cap of the bottle. The perfume lingered around him for a few minutes before fainting away, carried off by soft breeze. He got up, giving the bottle a sad smile before looking up into the burning sky. "That's all I've left of you. I hope you like it, if you are watching. Come around and tell sometimes." He whispered, and waited a few seconds as if expected an answer. Then he stepped off the veranda into the house, his step slow and collected. Anne watched quietly how her son closed the door behind him. Her eyes fell on the perfume bottle that still stood on the table outside. The bright light of the sun seemed to set it on fire and the gold cap gleamed. She turned around and stepped away from the window. Harry stood in the kitchen, preparing himself a mug of tea. "She would've loved it Harry." Anne whispered quietly and on Harry's face spread a small smile. "You think?" she nodded, wrapping her arms around her son. "I do." He rested his head on top of hers, watching silently how the sun disappeared and the flames that danced in the bottle before, died down. "It's like...I bottled it up. All of it. My memories of her. And whenever I need her, I can just open it and she'll be here again. Even if I ever...stop loving her. If I move on. I will never let myself forget about her." Anne nodded softly, but saying nothing. There was nothing to be said anymore, not even goodbye. And it was alright.

Please tell me what u think:) 

- Kissy, Nica 

[astarlightmonbebe]

YGTB // Demigod AU

a/n: I picked random members lol--also this is more like a Camp Half Blood AU so props to you if you’re a fan.

Choi Hyunsuk

son of Hecate; goddess of magic, crossroads, and ghosts

he would be mysterious if he wasn’t so nice all the time

can do basic magic and manipulation of the Mist

sees and communicates with the occasional ghost

you can find him sitting on the floor listening to a ghost’s whole life story at any given point really

says he isn’t scared of anything

loves capture the flag because it allows him to practice with the Mist

best friends with all the younger demigods and would die for every single one of them

his goal is to be like a brother to everyone and make them feel comfortable

the suk of gonjisuk

Lee Byunggon

son of Morpheus; god of dreams

can put people to sleep and also give them dreams

if you become his enemy, he’ll give you nightmares

everyone is literally terrified of him

(we all know he’s a giant softball but like heck does he want people to know that)

sneaks up on people all the time and scaring them

‘ooh..Byunggon!!! haha didn’t see you there haha...��

doesn’t talk much, but makes people sufficiently shut up when he does

bluntly honest

hides in his sweatshirts lol

weapon of choice is sparring with spears and staffs

he can sweep you off your feet in an instance (literally and figuratively..)

the gon of gonjisuk

Park Jihoon

son of Zeus; god of the sky

can conjure lightning and storms 

is actually really humble

‘no..I can’t do much...only shoot some lightning bolts and incinerate the enemy...like I said, nothing much’

grew up with monsters trying to kill him, so he’s tough

tries to be best friends with everyone

hype machine

(sometimes cheers on the enemy before realizing his mistake)

is really bad at moving around quietly and is always talking about one thing or another

camoflauge? he doesn’t know that

the ji of gonjisuk

Hanada Asahi

son of Athena; goddess of wisdom

quiet but really good at strategies

best person to have on your team for capture the flag, because he has a new battle plan every time

draws detailed floor plans in his free time

doesn’t speak up much, but thinks a lot

the ace card basically; nobody expects him when he’s ‘played’

shy but soft bean, oversized sweaters and ink stains

speaks his mind when he really wants to

has a strong self belief in the solidity of his own plans, though

Hidaka Mahiro

son of Aphrodite; goddess of love and beauty

the least likely person to be found in that cabin

is considered the dark horse child

dyslexic

even if he doesn’t do anything about his looks, he’s still a real natural beauty

half of the other demigods have massive crushes on him and think he’s some dark, charming, mysterious person

in reality he’s awkward and shy around the majority of people (Yoshinori and the other j trainees are the exceptions)

is actually a makeup and fashion wizard but never uses his skills

a secret romantic at heart

give him roses and a candelit dinner and he will absolutely swoon for you

Takata Mashiho

son of Poseidon; god of the sea

water powers and hurricane creators

friend of all horses

didn’t actually learn how to swim 

was a competitive horseback rider and thought all horses just magically loved him before discovering his heritage

sweetest person ever and is on a quest to preserve the oceans better

best friends with the naiads and nerieds, plus the other water dwelling creatures

feels really strong about environmental issues

always willing to lend a helping hand

Terazono Keita

son of Tyche; goddess of good luck and fortune

smiley sunflower :)

always trying to give people good luck 

believer of lucky charms and makes homemade ones

(there’s no guarantee they actually work, but the rare one does)

spreader of happiness

impossible to hate, especially with that smile 

probably saved the country in his past life

can’t fight to save his life

yet has great archery aim

Yoshinori

son of Ares; god of war

very ADHD and is always moving around

lived as an orphan for most of his life

kind of bitter and resentful, but is soft for Mahiro

always eager to start a fight over really petty things, like cutting in line

weapon of choice is a sword

he’s unnaturally good at swordplay and hand to hand combat

nobody can win against him

can be very vicious against people who go against him

strong loyal and protective streak

good at heart

Kim Sungyeon

son of Apollo; god of the sun, poetry, prophecy, music, and medicine

face looks like its been sculpted by a god themselves (and maybe it has)

multi talented boy

can sing, dance, compose music, do basic first aid, and also sometimes predict the future

his prophecies come in the form of visions at random spurts 

sometimes it’ll be months before he has another one

tbh the majority of his visions have yet to come true but nobody wants to be the one to point that out because he insists he’s basically the oracle

1/3 of the terrible trio (they generally wreck havoc on just about anything and everyone)

Kil Dohwan

son of Nike; goddess of victory

highly competitive 

everything is a race and there is always a winner

tends to have tantrums but is working on accepting loss

very focused on the end goal

can be ideal for capture the flag, but it depends on the day

his mom is kind of pressuring (duh) so he feels the need to always win regardless of circumstances

1/3 of the terrible trio

Kim Doyoung

son of Hermes; god of travelers and thieves

kleptomaniac 

adhd, never stops moving

mischievous and king of pranks

does things that would normally make people hate him

but he’s like physically impossible to hate 

pickpockets people when they first meet

if something goes missing, it’s most likely with him

probably the only person to become super rich without earning anything

1/3 of the terrible trio