#and Hermes and Apollo both look more like their respective mothers

[literallyjusttoa]

I've had designs for all the other Olympian gods since forever, but I always get distracted or frustrated and can never finish drawing all of them as a group. Today I decided to just sketch em out and not focus too hard on the details, and I finally did all of them in one go! Except for Apollo but like, I'm sure y'all know what my Apollo desgin looks like at this point lol.

[greatestexpectationss]

Poison Ivy

Luke Castellan x Fem!Daughter of Persephone Reader

Description: You've been best friends with Luke Castellan since you were 14 years old. Now you teeter on the edge of something more, but your jealousy causes you to question everything.

You’re a child of Persephone, one of the far and few in between. Your mother had claimed you an entire year after you’d arrived at camp. Chiron had claimed it was to protect you from Hades' wrath,  but you’d had a sickly feeling it was more than that. Children of Persephone are all springtime and warmth, and perhaps you are in the light of day but in the cover of the night, there is something else that claws at you. You are more winter than spring.

Your dad says its normal to feel disconnected from your mother at this age, but you don’t just feel disconnected you feel abandonded.

You’d never met your mother but you're so so angry with her.

Being the daughter of the goddess of spring came with expectations. You are loyal and kind, with a bit of a wild side. Your powers had manifested as chlorokinesis, you're particularly fond of plants, much like the children of Demeter, but you've got a hardness they don't have, a certain darkness only a child of the underworld could understand. You’d learned that on your quest, where you’d even able to speak and command hellhounds.

There was more to you than meets the eye.

For instance, your infamous knack for growing poison ivy around those who piss you of. It had earned you a loving nickname from Luke…

“Poison” he’d called you after a particularly nasty sprouting during a game of capture the flag when you were just 14 years old. It had been Luke’s first game at camp, some Ares boys were terrorizing him up in the trees, when you’d seen it you felt bad for him. Everyone knew the story of how Luke and Annabeth had arrived at camp with Grover and what had been sacraficed to get there or rather who. You’d come to his rescue, sprouting poison Ivy from nothing wrapping it around their legs and taking them out of the game in one fail swoop with your daggers.

They glared at you for weeks.

It had started a long-lasting friendship between you and Luke. You two were close, and you helped him out in the Hermes cabin a lot. You trained together, ate together, really you did everything together. Luke understands the burning anger that sits beneath the surface of your skin. He knows the warmth and brightness you radiate during the days, but he also knows the bitter darkness that hides within you.

Luke sees you under your mask and still he stays.

Maybe that's why you’d fallen so hard for him.

It was hard not to fall for Luke. He’s all tall, dark and handsome. He’s the best swordsman this camp has seen in 300 years, he radiates confidence and commands respect. But even without all of that everyone loves Luke. It's hard not to, really. He’s kind and brave. It’s no wonder the Aphrodite girls are so enamored with him, really most girls are.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you with this funny soft look in his eyes. His touch would linger longer than necessary when helping you during archery practice, and he’d laugh a little too loudly at your jokes, and give you that rare goofy grin when he finds you in a room full of people.

It’s in those moment you’d wonder if he feels the same way. When his words are just for you, when he drags you by your hand to the dock and lays down beside you to look at the starts. When he kisses you cheek before the both of you return to the cabin, when he peeks over the side of your bunk and whispers the sweetest goodnight.

But then there are times you think you're delusional.

Like tonight for instance.

You're sitting at the post capture the flag bonfire with a few of your friends. Selina from Aphrodite, Clarisse from Ares, Katie, from the Demeter cabin, and Juliette from Athena. The Apollo kids are singing and you're in a particularly good mood from winning. But then you look across the fire and Luke has a pretty Aphrodite girl dotting on him, Haley, you think her name is. She’s whispering in his ear, perfectly painted nails wrapped around his forearm.

She's the type of girl Luke deserves.

Juliette's finger snaps in front of your face drawing you away from your pity party. You sit on the bottom step of the bleachers with a leg on either side. Facing you is Juliette, up a step to your right sits Selina, Katie, and Clarisse.

“Hello earth to Y/N, anyone in there??” Clarisse asks, your eyes snap to her and bounce between the others, they all look ammused.

“Sorry,” you mumble cheeks heating in embarsement.

They all look over your head where you’d been staring, There's a knowing look that is shared between them before they looking back at you with a mix of exasperation, ammusment, and pity.

You don't know which one is worse.

“C’mon you don't think Luke’s really into that chick do you?” Katie asks you.

“That chicks name is Haley,” Silena reminds, before reaching out and squeezing you hand, “and Katie’s right everyone knows Luke’s crazy for you, I don't know why she's even bothering.”

Clarisse scoffs and cracks her knuckles, “I can kick both their asses if you want.”

This draws a laugh from you.

“Hey, there she is!” Juliette exclaims, pinching your cheek, you swat her hands away and roll your eyes, the pity is leaving your body but you're still left with the bitter taste of jealousy.

“We’re just friends,” is what you settle with, earning an eye roll from all four of your friends.

“We are!” you insist, running a hand through your hair, “He can flirt with whoever he wants.”

“Y/N, do you think we’re dumb?” Clarisse asks.

“What? No of course I don’t—”

“Well then you know you can’t lie to us,” Katie says, she's much kinder than Clarisse who stares at you expectantly. A classic daughter of Demeter, she reaches for your hand and squeezes. You close your eyes for a second and sigh before looking back over at Luke. The Aphrodite girl is sitting closer to him now, he's nodding along to something she's said. You look away quickly.

“Katie’s right, and as a daughter of Aphrodite I can tell you without a doubt Castellan is just as crazy for you as you are him,” Silena’s so sure of herself, you wish you could feel that confident, you wish you knew how he felt.

“Yeah well it sure doesn't seem that way,” you gesture towards where they’re sitting. Across from you Juliette hums.

“Maybe he’s confused,” she says

“Or maybe Haley just doesn't know how to take a hint” Clarisse grumbles. You sigh and swing your leg over the bleachers before standing up.

“Where are you going?” Katie asks, brow furrowed.

“I just need some air,” you say.

“Y/N we’re literally outside,” Clarisse quips, you glare at her.

“Figurative air,” you say, gesturing wildly around you, away from all of this.”

You're much too aware of how pathetic this all is, you pining in a corner with your friends and Luke across the way with a pretty girl who deserves him. You're not some scorned lover, you're just a sad teenage girl.

“Do you want me to come?” Juliette asks you. She's such a good friend, fiercely loyal, they all are really, and you're incredibly thankful for them.

You wave her off anyway, “I’ll be fine, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Your friends say their goodbyes, not before reminding you for the thousandth time about the small party in the Aphrodite cabin later that evening.

If you'd been paying attention you'd have noticed Luke’s boredom, you’d have noticed his eye that always seemed to follow you.

It’s darker as you get further away from the bonfire, you don't mind, the few lanterns lighting the path to the lake give you enough light that you can at least see where you're going. When you arrive at the lake, you're thankful no one else has had the same idea. You can't even count the number of times you've snuck away with Luke only to find numerous couples making out.

Tonight there's no one, maybe because it had been a particularly rough game of capture the flag, or maybe because the usual suspects (aka Chris and Clarisse) are still at the bonfire.

You make your way toward the end of the dock before sitting down, feet dangling off the edge you lean back on your hands and lift your head back to look at the stars. Around you the only sound is nature, and very far off in the distance, you can hear the faintest sound of the Apollo kids singing. Their voices echo and combine with the sounds of the trees.

It would be peaceful if you weren't so miserable.

“There you are.”

You open your eyes and turn your head over the shoulder. Luke’s approaching you with that goofy grin on his face and a sweatshirt in his hands. He pops down next to you on the dock and hands you the sweater.

“I figured you’d get cold, you didn't have a jacket at the bonfire,” he explains when you give him a confused smile.

“Oh,” you say meekly, pulling it over your head, it's much too big for you and it smells like Luke and kind of makes you want to cry. Still, you tell him thank you. His smile drops a little when you don't say anything else.

“You wanna tell me what's wrong Poison?” he asked gently, nudging your shoulder with his. You pick at the sleeves of his sweater, eyebrows furrowed, but hearing the concern in his voice you manage a small smile.

“Nothing’s wrong, I'm just tired,” you excuse. You meet his eyes and you can tell he doesn't believe you.

“Y/N—”

“Seriously, I'm good, thank you for checking on me, and thank you for your jacket but you should go back I'm sure Haley is wondering where you are and I'm really okay,” you promise. He’s got the goofy grin on his face again and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?” you asked annoyed. He’s still smiling like he knows something you don't, he's enjoying this.

“What?”

“You're jealous,” you go wide-eyed eyes at his declaration, but you recover quickly with a scoff.

"I am not jealous," you deny, your voice gives you away when it quivers on the last syllable of your sentence. Luke’s grin only grows.

"Yeah okay Poison," he throws an arm over your shoulder, "whatever you say."

I’m going to push him into the lake, you think to yourself. 

You don’t, instead, you settle for pushing his arm off of your shoulder.

"Whatever, I’m outta here," you say before promptly standing up and storming up the dock. You've got tears in your eyes you're thankful he didn't see. You can hear him laughing and calling for you but you don't turn around. You know he's not doing it to be mean, Luke's got a thing for teasing you, and you know he thinks that's what this is.

It doesn't make the sting of it any less.

Luke's got long legs, and you can hear him scrambling after you calling your name. You ignore him up the dock and the sand before he stops you stepping in your path.

"C'mon Poison I know I'm hard to resi–" he stops when he sees the tears in your eyes and you turn your face away from him. His brows furrow in concern when he realizes you don’t think it's funny. He reaches for you again but you take a step back and cross your arms over your chest. 

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong"

"You're crying"

"So?"

He looks at you like you've sprouted 8 heads.

 "What do you mean so??" You pinch the bridge of your nose, you've seriously had enough of him playing dumb. "Can you just drop it please?" you beg, shifting on your feet and wiping furiously at your eyes before any tears can actually fall from your waterline. 

But he's Luke and your Y/N and you should know by now he's not gonna drop it.

"Wait," he hums taking a step closer to you and prying your crossed arms away from the safety of your body, he holds both of your hands with his own and presses them to his chest, you've got nowhere to hide. Finally, he asks, "Were you actually jealous?"

His tone is softer this time, it holds no teasing just a gentleness you can't quite describe. You don't know if it’s pity or fondness, you're not sure which answer scares you more. You still can’t look him in the eyes.

"No–"

"Y/N, c'mon don't lie to me."

You huff in response. He steps even closer to you. 

"Last week Lee Fletcher was helping you at archery practice," he says finally, you look at him now, his grin is gone but the soft smile he’s giving you, makes you feel like he’s going to let you down easy. He’s going to use Lee as a buffer, say it's clear there's something there when it's nothing. You feel for Lee the kind of platonic love you wish you felt for Luke. 

What you feel for Luke is world-changing and gut-wrenching.

"Okay,” is all you can say, you try to step away again but Luke just grips your hands a little tighter.

“Just let me finish,” he pleads, you nod your head and avoid direct eye contact with him, instead you focus on his dark hair, the dark curls that shine under the moonlight. If he notices you aren’t looking him in the eye, he’s at least nice enough not to say anything about it. 

"He said something to you, I wasn't close enough to hear what it was but it had you cracking up and laughing in the best way," Luke takes his thumb and stokes the corner of your mouth, "you get a little dimple right here when you laugh did you know that?"

You didn't, you also didn't even know he had been there that day. You don't even remember what Lee said that had made you laugh, something about your aim.

"What's your point?" you mumble, his touch on your face is searing and his other hand has moved to your waist, you can feel the burn of his skin through your (his) jacket. You finally cave and meet his eyes, he’s looking at you with such softness you think you might melt on the spit. You're not stupid either, you know what this is. But you need to hear him say it, or you might actually die.

"I was jealous," he shrugs, like it's no big deal, thumb tracing up your check to tuck a stray hair behind your ear before dragging it down to cup your face. "I didn't have any reason to be but I was.” 

Then with that goofy grin he says, “Kinda sounds like someone else I know."

You’re smiling at him now, you both know this is teetering far too close to the edge to come back from now. In fact, even without him saying it, without kissing him, you don’t think you could ever come back from this.

"Why?" you ask him, hands coming to rest at the nape of his neck, you play with the strings of his camp necklace to distract yourself from the lessening distance between the two of you. He’s dipping his head closer to you, so close that if he speaks your lips will touch. You want him to kiss you in a way you’ve never wanted anything before.

"You know why." And then he's kissing you. His arm around your waist tightens instinctively, and he presses his lips to yours hungrily, like a starved man who's just arrived at a feast. Your hands drop his necklace and weave through the shorter hair at the nape of his neck, something akin to a sigh of relief floods through both of you. His hand is in your hair now, and he tasted of marshmallows and spearmint, something so distinctly Luke. It’s incredibly intoxicating you don’t want to pull away. And you don’t until you absolutely have to in order to catch your breath, Luke chases after your lips with his own. Kissing them softly once, and then twice, before pulling back and looking at you with a smile on his face. This time you return it, a little laugh escapes your lips before it grows louder.

“Alright now who’s laughing at who?” he grumbles, still smiling despite his tone, his thumb strokes your dimple, and it allows you to compose youself. 

“I’m sorry,” you say reaching up to kiss him softly again. He’s smiling still, so you know you haven’t really offended him. “I just kinda feel like an idiot now,” you admit. 

“Well you are one,” he tells you cheekily, squezzing your sides with both hands in the way he knows you both adore and detest, you squeal and stumble into him, gripping onto his biceps in attempts to get him to stop. “You’re absolutely the dumbest person alive if you think there’s any world that I would wanna do this with anyone else.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Really,” he confirms. You reach up and kiss him again, a little more searing than sweet. Both of Luke’s hands are back in your hair and he’s kissing you back just as fervently, you feel his tongue slip in your mouth, and you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. It’s Luke who pulls away this time, gasping for air. 

“I think I might be in love with you,” he admits.

“Yeah, I think I might be in love with you too.”

Suddenly you both hear footsteps approaching quick and heavy, Clarisse stops in front of you both and takes in your dishelved appearance, before rolling her eyes and yelling.

“Guys I found them! You all owe me $20!” she calls out to what you assume to be your group of friends.

“Clarisse what the hell?” you mutter stepping away from Luke reluctantly. Chris comes barelling out of the forest, tripping over shrubbery. Luke pouts at the loss of contact

“They were making out?” he pouts to Clarisse who gestures towards you both as if to say well just look at them! then Chris turns to you and Luke, “You guys couldn’t have waited like one more day?”

You laugh as Luke whacks him upside the head. The four of you begin making your way towards the rest of your friends and the Aphrodite cabin where the party (which is so not a party) is. Your girlfriends squeal and Luke’s friends cringe. Luke throws his arm around your shoulder, "All good Poison?" he ask.

"I'm good, how are you?" he laughs and kisses your head.

"Never better."

You look up at him fondly and kiss the bottom of his scar as the two of you enter the cabin with the rest of your friends.

Across the room, Haley pouts with her siblings, but you don’t notice. You’re too enamored with Luke, the boy you’ve loved for as long as you can remember. The boy who loves you back.

[cynthiav06]

I can Almost imagine how Impressive you have to be To Pull THE percy Jackson. Like pulling any Demi-God is great but PERCY?!? The son of posiden?!? THE SAVIOR of Olympus?!?

I headcanon that Percy is really just out of Anyone's League And You gotta be Pretty damn Special to be able to Pull him

Like imagine Fumbling him or breaking his heart

THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

Like come on Rick you are telling me Percy the greatest demigod of all time Jackson has to be paired up with someone who has nothing in common with him, frequently condescends him, literally forces her own views on him, hates his father, has a mother who tried to kill Percy, is controlling and toxically possessive of him and most importantly someone who has completely different life goals than him?? It doesn't even make sense when you look at it rationally.

I think Rick himself was trying to put Percy down in post Son of Neptune books by making his personality all about Annabeth.

We are talking about the Savior of Olympus, the bearer of Achilles Curse, the strongest demigod, the man who denied immortality from the King of Gods, Poseidon's favorite son, the only demigod to have been approached by other Pantheons first and well respected among their demigod equivalents, the only male demigod to have respect of Artemis, only one to be favored by so many Gods on the Olympian Council and that's only pre-Heroes of Olympus.

The Survivor of Tartarus, the demigod whose blood even Gaia wanted to wake to due to his power, the first and only Greek to be made a Praetor and now two times savior of Olympus. This is all without mentioning his singular and unique feats, and he has many.

AND THIS IS WHAT RICK DOES WITH HIS CHARACTER ARC????

Had Rick not been so obsessed with shoving Percabeth down our throats, he could have totally made Seafam Arc, and all our fics would have not been fics. We wouldn't even have needed headcanons for seafam cause Amphitrite and Triton and all of Atlantis would have absolutely loved him cause come on, it's Percy. It's impossible not to love him. So let's assume that's exactly what happened.

So the whole of Atlantis, Seafam, and most of the Olympian Gods love Percy and not to mention Sally and Paul, who are also very protective of Percy.

The new Lord of the Wild is his best friend, The Lieutenant of Artemis is his other best friend and cousin, both the children of Hades/Pluto are his best friends/cousins, the only other demigod to be blessed by Poseidon with a rare gift is also his very close friend not to mention other members of the Seven also respect him greatly and owe him quite a bit.

Hestia, Apollo, Hermes, Aphrodite, Artemis,Hades, Hepheastus, and even Dionysus and River gods either openly favor him or have much respect for him. (Poseidon and the Seafam are implied, Bob and Damasen as well).

This isn't even taking into account all the pegasi and nymphs and sea creatures who love him and that he has a literal hell hound.

Percy not only has friends in high places and the favor of literal gods on top of being Poseidon's favorite son as told by Poseidon himself, all the people with special abilities are all close friends with him.

In Riordanverse, Percy is like the only person you don't want to cross like ever.

So you know logically if anyone needs an explanation as to why Annabeth isn't a good match for him and someone like Rachel would have fit much better. A mortal blessed with sight much like his Mother later turned Oracle of Delphi, the girl who saved his life in literally the very first two encounters they have, a girl under protection of Olympians and blessed by Apollo?

Apollo could have definitely waived the celibacy rule as there have been mentions of married women later becoming oracles in Greek mythology( May Castellan too if you count the books) and that the rule is only to prove devotion to the God nothing more. And if Apollo can't, then Delphi, who is a spirit older than Gods themselves, could just change allegiances. She once belonged to Poseidons' domain, so there's that.

But since I am biased in favor of Rachel, literally any other ship but Percabeth would have been logical and fitting and better off compatibility wise.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

How many kid/s do you think have characters in ror or if they have any at all? like i totally see hermes as twin dad and nikola with 2 sons and daughter, idk why lol. i am interested in how many does do you think Jataka, Kojiro, Leonidas, Raiden, Kintoki, Thor, Rudra, Loki, Idra, Hermes, Hades Buddha, Beelzebub and apollo will have in your opinion, or if you think they won’t have any, ty for your time- have a lovely holiday season! 🫶

Hermes- Definitely a twin dad, one of each, whom he treats as equals and encourages them in whatever hobbies they enjoy. Is very patient with them but knows when to scold them.

Nikola- Two boys who were both very intelligent, but he never forced them to do anything they didn't want- letting them do as they wish but they know they can come to him at any time.

Kojiro- One daughter, his little pride and joy, who he doted on when she was younger but as she grew, wanting to learn how to become a warrior like her papa, he couldn't help but melt. He is a strict teacher but encourages her, helping her be strong.

Leonidas- One of each, with the son being older- who was raised to be a strong warrior, wanting to become strong enough to beat his dad in combat, something Leonidas encouraged. His daughter is also a warrior, as he wants her to be able to protect herself from those who are unworthy of her. Is a strict but very doting father.

Raiden- One son, his pride and joy, who wants to become a Yokozuna just like his dad and is willing to work hard at it. Raiden respects him in not babying him, always pushing him to go above and beyond his expectations, but at the end of the day, he will always praise his son.

Kintoki- One daughter, who is just like him, a wild child and he had to learn what his own mother figure went through, raising him. Loves teaching her new things and always encourages her to experience as much as possible in life.

Thor- One son and one daughter, his son is a warrior just like him, as he wants to be strong as well, but both are whipped by the much younger daughter, whom they both adore and dote on. Thor is more of a hands-off type of father, wanting his children to grow without hanging onto him, but he will always defend them.

Rudra- One daughter who is his little princess, he's willing to throw hands, all four of them, to keep her safe, and only wants her to be happy. Is going to be a mess when she's older and dating, is a total girl dad.

Loki- Twin boys, who love to prank their father on who is who, dressing alike and acting alike, which they also use to prank others, something Loki encourages and finds hilarious. Is proud then they pull pranks on others and on him.

Indra- One son, who looks up to Indra for his strength, wanting to be just like him. Indra makes sure not to smoke around his son, wanting him to be healthy, and will always spar with his child, as he encourages him to become stronger.

Hades- One daughter who is the most protected princess in Valhalla, he is fiercely protective of her, not wanting anything to happen to his little princess. Nobody is worthy in his eyes to date his daughter and he has no issues threatening would-be suitors.

Buddha- Laid back but very supportive of his one son, he wants his son to learn everything he can on his own, but Buddha will always be waiting for him, and will always defend him. The type of dad who would always sneak his son an extra piece of candy before dinner.

Beelzebub- One daughter whom he adores with every inch of his being, he wants her to be safe but is hesitant to get close to her, not wanting to hurt her. Showers her with love from afar so she knows that she is never without love. It takes years for him to allow himself to get closer to her.

Apollo- One son who is just like him and one daughter whom he is very protective of. His son wants to try everything and anything he can, pushing himself to excel in everything, which Apollo praises, while he showers his daughter with love, showing her how she should be treated and to not take anything less.

[theamityelf]

ignore this if you’ve already said something like this, but do you have any headcannons on Danganronpa characters with Percy Jackson godly parents.

Oooh, so like the inverse of my PJO Danganronpa AU! I haven't done that yet. I'm torn between just giving a straightforward, in-a-vacuum answer for this, and fully migrating the characters into the Percy Jackson universe and letting that inform my answer. I'm doing the latter now, but you can send another ask if you want "in a vacuum". Also, I might have a different answer if I think about it longer.

THH

Makoto- I think I want him to be a mortal, for this. I think I want it to be a Rachel situation, where he accidentally ends up involved in a quest with some of the demigods, and then he gains godly powers of some kind as a reward or consequence of helping them. I see him interning for a god, after everything is over. Maybe he's an operator for Iris. Very humble beginnings, is what I'm saying. It's wild that he keeps having a pivotal role in saving the world, and showing up in prophecies, and being approached by the gods themselves. He's not innately powerful; they just think he's neat. If I had to give him a godly parent, though, it'd probably be Hestia. Even as a mortal, I might say he has the blessing of Hestia...which is a thing I just made up, btw. If Hestia has any equivalent for Artemis's Hunters, he's one. Just a person who hangs out with Hestia and doing hero stuff with the blessings of Hestia. Instead of Artemis's values of wilderness, archery, etc., he champions Hestia's values of home, hearth, family, and safety. I feel like he's been offered immortality but turned it down. (Side option: he's a satyr. Not what I'm going with, but it's an option.)

Sayaka- My first thought is Apollo, for the arts and music, but I'm also feeling her as an Aphrodite kid who can charmspeak. Yeah, I think Aphrodite for her. Her skills as a singer and dancer are her own.

Leon- Oh gosh. Gotta be Apollo, I guess. Baseball = archery. He does both. And he thinks he can tap into his dad's musical gifts without any respect for them, which is why he fails.

Mukuro- Ares. And she has the same mortal mother as Junko. (An argument could be made for Athena, but I'm going with Ares.)

Junko- I like Dionysus's association with madness and frivolity, for her, and I do want to go with a god or goddess who very much isn't about what Junko is about, just to keep from letting her unique vibe be lost to some hand-wave about godly inheritance. I don't want to go with one of the scary-sounding ones. (Plus, if this were taking place in Camp Half-Blood, which I doubt it actually is, being the daughter of the camp director would allow her to avoid scrutiny in a lot of ways.) That's my in-a-vacuum answer. But...I think the not-in-a-vacuum answer has to be Apollo. First of all, he's Apollo in both Greek and Roman form; she has access to both "camps" in a way many don't. Second of all, I like the idea that she has a twisted version of Apollo's gifts. The gift of prophecy is the tedium of foresight. The gift of sunrise is the curse of waking– the inevitable end of comfort. The gift of art is a deadly creativity. No one thinks to pay that much attention to another Apollo kid; Apollo has lots of kids! But she's secretly very dangerous.

Chihiro- Ooh! Ooh! Hecate. Besides being the goddess of magic, she's also the goddess of crossroads, which fits Chihiro's personality and talent. (Like, imagine a computer program as a set of crossroads. Each branch of an if statement, etc.) Also, it would be cool if Chihiro can do magic.

Mondo- That has to be Hermes, right? He looks like an Ares kid, but travel and outcasts are way more in Hermes' domain. Mondo would love to have winged shoes.

Taka- For some reason I'm really getting Demeter vibes. If pressed to defend it, I can imagine someone wondering how someone so "uptight" could have a nature goddess as a mom, since nature is so chaotic, and Taka responding that animals are chaotic, but argiculture and crops are very orderly and precise. There is a right and wrong time to sow anything, a right and wrong time to reap anything. Oh, I think I'm getting Demeter from his "staple food source" line. That's it.

Hifumi- Another Apollo.

Celeste- So many ways to go about this. First of all, do I want one she would be proud of and lean into, or one she would be embarrassed by and overcompensate for? Right away, I'm feeling Dionysus for her. I even said in one of my "Kamukura Wrangler AU" posts that her eyes are wine-colored, and her self-indulgence just seems so great for Dionysus. But Nike would also be a cool one, both for her Ultimate and for how much she would hate being associated with the sports shoe brand. I can imagine a gag where Celeste proudly says "I am a daughter of Nike," and Aoi cheerfully replies, "Oooh, I love Nike's!" Celeste would be so annoyed. I genuinely can't choose; they're both so great.

Sakura- I'm not feeling Ares at all. I can see Athena, but...Sakura's strength isn't really for war. She works hard and strives for excellence, but she's a practitioner of martial arts for their own sake, not to exert them over people outside the constraints of sanctioned contest. I'm not feeling a war god for her. If I were going to put her anywhere, she'd be partway between the strategy/wisdom aspect of Athena (so, more Minerva) and the arts aspect of Apollo. I think what I'll say is that she's a daughter of Deimos, god of fear and dread, which manifests in the way others react to her. The effect wears off if someone takes the time to try to feel anything for her but fear, but a lot of people don't. She herself is very peaceable and kind, and she values her friendship with anyone who doesn't fear her.

Aoi- I think Nike makes maybe the most sense, but I'm going to give her Poseidon because I want to. Despite being able to breathe underwater, she usually holds her breath while swimming, because she likes to. She finds the challenge thrilling. If she's breathing underwater, it's usually for social reasons like talking to fish or sea nymphs. And having her intelligence underestimated is very Percy Jackson of her.

Byakuya- Oh, I'm torn. My first thought was Hades, specifically because he would be insufferable if he was a child of the Big Three (though Pluto would be more apt, because riches), but in keeping with his mortal family's whole deal, and my aim for the THH group to all be in the Greek pantheon, I think Athena is the fit for him. His father is still a Togami; Byakuya was given to his father by Athena, born from her head. That's part of his justification for his inflated sense of his own competency. Not only is he the Togami heir; he's also a son of Athena. Imagine canon Byakuya if his mother was also a goddess. He's going to be insufferable, and I'm fine with that.

Kyoko- She...So the thing is, she...She said she can hear the footsteps of the god of death, and...Once again, I'm tempted to say Hades, or perhaps Thanatos. I'll go a different way with it, though; I feel like making her dad a god feels too close to outsourcing her feelings of abandonment from Jin onto the inherent premise of the Percy Jackson universe, and I don't want to do that. Jin has to just be a mortal absentee father. (Although daughter-of-the-god-of-death Kyoko would be so, so cool in a vacuum. And her gloves could be partially because her touch can kill. AHHH!) I'm going to say Nyx. Goddess of night. Helpful for a detective (like, she can probably see in the dark and stuff), but not fully making her detective skills a direct byproduct of her godly parentage. Plus, Nyx is the mother of Thanatos, meaning her hearing the footsteps of the god of death can still be relevant. The real question is how Jin had a kid with night itself.

Toko- It's either gonna be Apollo or Aphrodite, and I'm going with Aphrodite. Toko would have a field day with "What? You've never seen such an ugly daughter of Aphrodite?!" But also exposure therapy for her deep resentment of attractive people. They're her siblings, and they care about her and defend her, even if she's kind of sour.

Hiro- Gotta be Apollo. He's great at random day-to-day prophecy.

SDR2

Hajime- I'm thinking he's also a mortal who something supernatural happened to. Maybe he was chosen as the Oracle of Delphi, or maybe he was abducted and given trace amounts of ambrosia until something weird happened to him (to create Izuru). Maybe both. Whatever the case, the answer is none, lol. I'm feeling "bored Oracle" for him.

Imposter- Um, Janus. God of beginnings, gates/doorways/transitions, time, duality, and endings. Initially, I said this because Janus is depicted with two faces and that seemed fitting for an imposter, but I think the focus on choices and transitions also suits someone whose sense of self is so fluid.

Teruteru- I think it's gotta be Bacchus for him.

Mahiru- I wish I could give her Iris, but I want this cast (except Hajime) to be Roman! So I'll say Minerva.

Peko- Bellona. Same/similar backstory with Fuyuhiko, though; she's just a demigod who got abandoned and left with a well-known family of demigods.

Hiyoko- I'm giving her Apollo for now, but I'm open to changing that.

Ibuki- Discordia, goddess of discord and troublemaking. (As you can see, I like giving the most dangerous people benign ones and vice versa.) Ibuki likes noise, she values her own uniqueness, and just generally I think this one works for her.

Mikan- Gotta be Apollo, for the healing. This means she and Hiyoko would be half-siblings, which certainly paints their relationship in an interesting way.

Nekomaru- You know what? I'll give him Jupiter. His eyebrows are lightning, and I never give him attention in my other AUs, so he can have Jupiter.

Gundham- I am feeling Diana for him. Yes, I know, but still. It's cool. The wilderness, the moon, it all just suits his vibe so well. The impact this would have on his backstory is manageable. Everything said to be the case about his mother can just be about a human step-mother.

Nagito- I kind of want to make him the Octavian equivalent. Like, a legacy of Apollo who serves as the Roman augur. Parallels with Hajime being the Oracle on the Greek side. He has a unique relationship with Fortuna that parallels Makoto's unique relationship with Hestia.

Chiaki- Going with Somnus, god of sleep. She has the ability to make others tired, but she chooses not to use it like that. Mostly, she exercises her power over herself so that she can power nap frequently and stay up all night playing video games.

Akane- I feel complicated feelings about saying this, but I really think Venus for her. The reason I feel complicated about it is that it feels too close to giving the people who mistreated her in her life a magical excuse, but I feel like even ignoring that whole aspect of her backstory, she doesn't read to me as a daughter of a war god or goddess; she reads as a passionately emotional person who is inured to hardship/loss and values strength as a result of the environment in which she was brought up.

Fuyuhiko- I'm going to say he's a distant legacy of Pluto and a direct son of Minerva. This would make him half-siblings with Mahiru.

Sonia- Daughter of Pluto. It would be cool if she could summon gems and precious metals. And she would also enjoy speaking with the dead.

Kazuichi- Gotta be Vulcan.

V3

Kaede- I almost didn't go with Apollo just because I said it so many times, but then I remembered that moment in Chapter 6 where the in-universe lore suddenly decided that Kaede had a twin, just to service a bait-and-switch about her being another Junko, and with that in mind, her also being a daughter of Apollo is just more of a connection to Junko.

Shuichi- I am feeling Nemesis for Shuichi. Goddess of retribution, evening the scales. It fits his kind of...simple? Way of viewing the world, where punitive justice isn't something that he enjoys, but rather something that he finds inevitable.

Rantaro- Hermes, certainly. The travel aspect, the social aspect.

Ryoma- He's a Nike, I think. He is burdened by victory and excellence.

Kirumi- If anyone gets Hera or Juno, it would be her. I think I will say Vesta, though. The Roman form of Hestia. She is less blessed by Vesta than burdened with the compulsion to satisfy everyone.

Angie- Ooooh, despite the obvious connections between Apollo and art, I'm feeling Morpheus for her: she knows everyone's dreams. Her art skills are just a separate thing where she practiced and got good at a genuine hobby of hers. Her demigod abilities are her insights into the minds, wants, and fears of others. Also, I'm going to say she has frequent waking dreams and waking nightmares, because it feels right for her whole vibe.

Tenko- I wanted to go Athena or Bellona, but I think I'm actually feeling Mars for her. She probably becomes a Huntress of Artemis, or works under Circe.

Korekiyo- I checked to make sure the Muses count as goddesses, and it seems they do. Therefore, I'm going with Clio, Muse of history.

Miu- Gotta go Hephaestus.

Gonta- I feel like it's got to be either Apollo or Athena for him. I'll say Athena, since his devotion to a particular study reads as an Athena kid trait to me.

Kokichi- There is a part of me that really wants to say Hermes. But I think I'll say Dionysus. Dionysus is the god of wine, parties, madness, chaos, and the theater. I think a lot of that energy is what Kokichi both thrives on and languishes in– especially theater.

Kaito- Is Astraios too obvious? He's getting Astraios. He feels drawn to the stars, and I don't think he loses anything if that feeling becomes supernatural.

Maki- Okay, she'll be a daughter of Thanatos. But she lies about it at first. And she can kill someone with a touch, but only if she chooses to, so touching her is an act of trust. (Cue sentimental moment where one of her friends, probably Kaito, touches her arm or something and she's surprised.)

Himiko- I kind of want to be subversive and not say Hecate, but I will actually give her Hecate. She would be really proud of it.

Kiibo- Well, he's a robot. Maybe an automaton made by a child of Hephaestus or Vulcan.

Tsumugi- She gets Janus, too.

[genericpuff]

My least favorite part about Lore Olympus is how they handled be loved characters in the myths like Demeter and Apollo. Both were powerful and highly respected Gods who weren't always the best, but had good intentions.

But Demeter is meant to be this controlling and emotional abusive mother when the most she did in the myths was not trust men? Like it's bit her fault she was just Zeus' side chick and she didn't want her daughter to have the same fate, but with that dude's brother.

Apollo was anything but a rapist. Sure he was not the best with love, but he mostly rolled unlucky with either people who didn't love him or people who died young. And Rachel makes him out to be some villain bad guy who doesn't understand boundaries instead of some god who represents ignorance. Greek mythology was MADE to explain why things happen the way they do and to explain human error, like Zeus having the human error of not keeping his dick in his pants.

BUT ZEUS CAN BE MADE MORE SYMPATHETIC, YET TWO GODS WHO WERE ALREADY SYMPATHETIC CAN'T BE?

honestly I've mentioned it in other discussions, but RS seems to just like... have a huge issue with women wanting to be anything other than a trophy wife.

Minthe doesn't want to "settle down" with Hades even though that was never her intention in the relationship and Hades is the one pushing the boundaries of the relationship? She's a gold digger taking advantage of a King and doesn't deserve to be loved.

Demeter wants to become Queen without the need for a husband and fights for the votes needed to be elected even though not a single other ruler has had to campaign for their position? She's just "jealous" of her daughter for becoming Queen through marriage and "salty" at Zeus and Hades and Poseidon because they're all rulers and she isn't.

As for characters like Apollo, they're always framed as villainous or manipulative (or outright abusive) when it's with the intent of making Hades look better. They never did this with characters like Hermes or Hephaestus because they were never interested in Persephone, but Apollo and Ares are both depicted as idiotic scumbags for the sole purpose of making Hades look like the 'better option' for Persephone. When you remove Apollo and Ares from the narrative though, and purely observe Hades based on his actions, Hades... isn't good for anyone, either. It's just really easy to make Guy A look good when Guy B is a r*pist. It's the lowest possible bar.

Basically so many characters are demonized far from their original versions for the sole purpose of pushing Persephone and Hades together, because RS doesn't know how to write a real story with real character progression. She's too afraid to give Persephone and Hades legitimate, deeply-rooted flaws or traits that would have to be challenged by the narrative in any way, so instead they're these boring self-insert projections that need everyone else to be on their worst behavior to make them look better. It takes effort to write main ship characters with real depth, whereas it takes zero effort to just make every character outside of the main ship an asshole to make the main ship characters look more redeeming by comparison.

[cafeseoulmate]

idk what this lol i wanted to write a proper full-length fic but finals is beating my ass like crazy :”) anyway this happens in the same pjo au as kang taehyun’s hot boy summer destiny and references it a bit

child of aphrodite!beomgyu who’s also been recently declared the new cabin counselor because he has the best leadership skills among his half-siblings and is arguably the best charmspeaker anyone’s seen in camp for decades (as in he can almost rival his own mother it’s insane and his older half-siblings who’ve left camp long ago are really impressed). he’s also the friendliest and bubbliest out of all of his half-siblings (if that were even possible), a true social butterfly like his mom.

but also beomgyu who likes going on quests with child of athena!taehyun and child of hermes!yeonjun until taehyun finally confessed to his childhood best friend recently, so now it’s mostly just beomgyu and yeonjun. occasionally, child of apollo!hueningkai would join them if he’s not on another quest with his other half-siblings along with child of poseidon!soobin who, contrary to popular belief, actually leaves his post at the infirmary every once in a while.

beomgyu who is exceptionally skilled in using a bow and arrow because he has beef with both eros and anteros on who is the best archer since he was a child (though the gods have already long discussed this among themselves before that it’s one of apollo’s children. no one has the heart to tell any of the three, though). his shots are always lethal and precise and he’s been invited numerous times by his own half-siblings and the entire apollo cabin to lead classes in the summer. he only assists here and there, though, since he doesn’t think he’s that good at explaining things, especially something that he’s been doing for most of his life and feels like second nature to him.

(beomgyu underestimates himself. he’s actually really good at teaching, especially the younger kids.)

but outside of duels and fights, beomgyu would rather spend most of his days making music and drawing at the arts and crafts pavilion, getting inspired by his last quest in the outside world or on a long walk in the woods after breakfast. though he is a skilled fighter (and definitely has a big advantage with his mastery of charmspeak), he thinks his strengths lie more in translating his love of people and his surroundings in art and music. he’s just a child of his mother who’s so full of love so of course he’ll channel it somewhere peacefully and creatively. in his free time, beomgyu’s usually playing guitar with taehyun and humming an original song or sketching trees and portraits in his sketchbook where all creative streams of thought go.

oh and, of course, as a child of aphrodite, he’s always receiving all sorts of love declarations regardless of what season it is. love letters, chocolates, sweets, trinkets, gifts, public declarations at every turn on the training grounds, and even a bold, “i love you,” carved to a tree one time (much to the demeter cabin’s horror). beomgyu’s seen it all, he thinks, and he’s very flattered. heck, at times, he even relishes in the admiration people have for him because what child of aphrodite wouldn’t? he’s still his mother’s son so of course it’s a bit of an ego boost.

but these days, he’s only looking forward to a gift (a letter, to be exact) from one person—you, a child of demeter and a long-time friend of his.

you, the kid who first came to camp on the same night as he did because you happened to be getting chased by the same army of harpies. you, the kid he stuck with even after you both got claimed by your respective godly parents because you were familiar faces to each other. you, one of his go-to friends who’d gladly eat some of his admirers’ sweets and keep the gifts he didn’t want when he asked. you, the friend who always gave him your best harvests come strawberry picking season and saved him some of the meals you’d cook in exchange for him letting you see his creative projects before anyone else.

but more importantly, you, the friend who drunkenly declared to all of your peers two years ago that you have a crush on beomgyu. you, the friend who started occasionally sending him your own short letters and simple gifts whenever you felt like it afterwards, much like the admirers you used to help him ward off. you, who kept being his friend first and foremost and never made things awkward even with your feelings always hanging in the air because you knew that beomgyu didn’t feel the same then and that was okay. you, who gladly let him tease you about it every now and then—until he suddenly couldn’t halfway through the summer when demeter called for you to help persephone with matters in the underworld. you who just disappeared the next day, having stolen persephone’s pearl that was previously retrieved by taehyun on a quest and left before sunrise.

you who told beomgyu the day demeter called for you via mr. d that maybe you need this trip to get over him and go back to the way things were between the two of you, before joking about getting him a souvenir from the river lethe.

it’s a bit stupid even for a child of aphrodite, beomgyu thinks, that he only ever started appreciating your presence (and maybe even reciprocrating your feelings) once you left. though to be fair, you’ve never left camp without notice or without telling at least one person a definitive date of when you’ll be back before. your presence in camp, for most of the demigods including beomgyu, is almost like chiron’s or mr. d’s in that you’re never away for too long.

though you can hold your own in battle, you never liked quests, preferring more to stay and maintain your strawberry fields and vegetable gardens. and that agitated all of your friends on the day you left, especially beomgyu.

even worse, suddenly it’s almost christmas now and from what yeonjun’s heard from his dad and what soobin’s heard from his own significant other (a child of hades), you’re still pretty much indefinitely stuck in the underworld—surviving off of food that demeter delivers and, apparently, warding off the advances of an undead suitor that’s been mentioned around your mutual circle of friends enough times to get beomgyu irritated and threaten sneaking off to get you himself.

(soobin has to hold him back and ask the other aphrodite kids to watch him like a hawk after every declaration.)

child of aphrodite beomgyu suddenly finds himself wandering camp borders and the strawberry fields on most nights these days, terrorizing yeonjun about the mail during breakfast, and reading and re-reading the letters you sent before, scolding himself for taking everything for granted. if not, he’s tending to the plants you’ve left behind along with your half-siblings and keeping a voice memo journal detailing everything that’s happening in camp for when you return (making sure to omit all the misshaps he’s gotten himself into in the meantime because he’s not really that proud of some of them—especially the time he drunkenly charmspoke to taehyun’s partner as a dare before they got together. beomgyu thinks—maybe hopes, too— that you’ll find out about it from taehyun’s partner and scold him for it when you come back. he’s this desperate, okay).

choi beomgyu, on top of being a child of aphrodite, the new counselor of his cabin, a skilled archer, a creative artist, and all-around popular camper at camp half-blood, may or may not also be experiencing love for the first time and it’s messing with his head big time. sometimes, he thinks he’ll go insane thinking about how his half-sibling, kazuha, keeps asking about the red string around his wrist and extending all the way to the camp gates. sometimes, especially on quests, he thinks about sneaking off and finding another one of persephone’s pearls to get to you. but sometimes, he also thinks that it’s just from not being used to your absence for a long time, from not having his child of demeter friend joke around with him and name him the flowers growing around camp.

but what beomgyu’s sure of is that he really can’t wait until spring arrives and persephone comes back to the land of the living with you. he needs to see you as soon as possible and if it takes having to sneak off camp the next time that he’s off on a quest and do some outrageous things to land his soul in the underworld, he’ll do it immediately.

[roger-that-cap]

doubt comes in

orpheus!bucky barnes x fem!eurydice!reader

summary: a retelling of orpheus and eurydice for an extremely late entry for a mythology challenge!!

warnings: uh- yeah i was not playing with this myth lol… fluffy beginning, uh, that’s all imma say about that and ALSO i haven’t edited this so haha, i am running on fumes but had to post this jeez 

word count: 11.3k good god

There were gods that were unexplainably strong. There were some that could bend fire and metal to their will, some that could string up love and cast it upon others, and others that knew more of war and how to win more than they even knew themselves. Others were the faces of glory, like Zeus and Hera and the sun god Apollo and so many others. There were many that were worshipped by humans every day of every week, and others that were forgotten until they were desperately needed. There were some that lived immortal lives and demanded respect from humans and gods alike, and then there were the ones invested in their art, in themselves, in the beauty of life itself.

That was Bucky. He was so immersed in song, in the gift that he had inherited from his mother, Calliope, that it was all he could think about. It was what made him different, it was what made him stand out from the boys that he grew up with that were just plain old strong. He had a talent, he had a mother that was a myth and a legend alike, and he had a lyre. He had a lyre, a lute, his voice, and a bit of speed, and that was all that he would ever need in life. That, and a pretty landscape to look at while he strummed his golden strings. But that was all he ever thought he would need- which was why he was knocked right off of his planted feet when he saw you walk by.

You were a human. You were a beautiful girl, probably the most beautiful being he had ever seen in his entire life. He had met goddesses and nymphs and princesses alike, but never had he met someone who had such a sweet face, such a gentle aura, and even more, a beautiful voice. You had only said a few words to someone else that were delivered with a gentle smile, but he could have sworn that your words were a melody. Before he knew it, your entire being was stamped into his mind, and he knew that he would never be able to forget you.

It was by complete chance that the next day, he decided to wallow in his sadness by a fountain in public, strumming his lyre too quietly for anyone else to hear. Anyone who knew him knew that he was devastatingly off. And coincidentally, the only ones who truly did know Bucky were Steve and Sam, two forest nymphs that had been his best friends since he taught them the ways of the lute years and years ago. They were sitting by him in silence on the marbled fountain, waiting next to him for the second shoe that they doubted would ever drop. But then, like Bucky was a sunflower following the sun itself, his back straightened, his head perked up, and his mouth dropped, his eyes wide and swirling with admiration as he watched you- the same human woman he was enamoured with- walk through the square again, a woven basket full of fresh fruits on your arm and your lilac dress swishing in the wind.

“No way,” he heard Sam mutter, and Steve poked his side.

“You were always such a doubter,” Steve mumbled, but the smile on his face was audible through his tone. “There she is, in the flesh.”

Bucky could hardly hear anything but the soft melody stirring up in his mind, louder than his racing heart, and just as tender as the feelings swirling inside of him. He saw you wave to the older woman you were talking to and then start to walk away, and he knew that he couldn’t let you go, not when the Fates so obviously gave him a second chance. Without a second thought, he slid off of the fountain, leaving his friends and his lyre, striding towards you with the brightest smile, trying to cover the fact that he was nervous.

His clumsy feet were carrying him a little too quickly, and he could hear the snickers of Steve and Sam from behind him. He craned his head backwards to look at them and laugh too, but he tripped over his own left foot, barreling right into you and knocking you flat onto the ground. His half immortal heart beat heavy and hard in his chest as he watched you wince under him. He scrambled up, cheeks flushed and hand shaking as he watched you sit up and brush the dirt off of your dress. He was looking down at you with a look that he prayed wasn’t as desperate as he felt. But he had to know you.

“I’m Orpheus,” he started, and when you turned your bright eyes to him with your brows furrowed, he shook his head like he was trying to get water from his hair. “No, I meant that I was sorry- I’m so sorry. For knocking you over, miss.” He extended his hand to you again, and he swore that he saw your lips quirk up a bit at him. You took his hand and stood up, brushing the fabric of your dress once again. He caught a trail of your scent, and he was immediately overtaken by the scent of fresh flowers and lavender.

That was when he really got a good look at you for the first time. The first time he saw you had been brief. You weren’t even looking anywhere near his way, and he only caught a look at your stunning side profile before you walked away. His vision had been practically blurred from excitement while he walked up to you, and he was so embarrassed about crashing into you that he was subtly trying not to look in your eyes. But… damn, he had been missing out.

He swore that time stopped. His own heart stopped beating, even the sluggish beat leaving for a few moments. The noises from the town square were so dull that they seemed muted. The stares of Steve and Sam felt so far off that he didn’t even notice them. All he knew was that he was utterly entranced by you, and for a second, he could have sworn that by the look in your eyes, you felt the same way. But like the blaring of an alarm, something knocked you both out of it, putting you in the present, with present problems.

“Oh, the fruits,” you muttered, looking at the peaches and apples that tumbled right out of your basket, bending over quickly to collect them despite the fact that they had gotten bruised. Bucky’s heart jumped to his throat with guilt when he realized he had ruined the fruit you had either picked or paid for, and then he was rushing to get them even faster, praying to the gods that you didn’t automatically hate him.

After looking into your eyes, he doubted he could live with himself if you even so much as disliked him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, I don’t have the best footing,” he apologized again, gently placing the fruits back into your basket.

“It’s okay,” you said, and your eyes trailed behind him to look at his friends that were howling with laughter, holding onto each other. He saw your displeasure, and his heart dropped when he understood that you probably thought they had sent him over just to mess with you. Your eyes whipped back to Bucky, and he blushed something fierce. He felt his cheeks warm up under your scrutiny, and then there was a smile creeping back onto your face. “I'm Eurydice.”

Oh, Gods. Eurydice. He swore that he had never heard something so beautiful in his life. He had grown up with the Muses, even had a mother as one, and was surrounded by music and poetry and epics every second of his childhood. Music was imprinted in his mind, every note embedded in his everyday life, yet still it was the most beautiful- “But I go by Y/N.” No. Eurydice was now second. But your name, the one he knew you had chosen for yourself, was the most beautiful thing that life had ever offered him to hear.

His brain was going many miles a minute, as quick as Hermes on a mission, but all he could do in the end was blink and offer his true name first, like politeness called for. “I’m Orpheus,” he extended his arm again to you, and you shook it twice. Your hand was soft, so soft that he didn’t want to let go of it. He would never forget the feeling of your hand in his, and the way he swore that the nerves under his skin were alight with the gentlest and sweetest of fires. “You can call me Eurydic- I mean, Bucky. I’m Bucky.”

You could both hear the laughter coming from Bucky’s friends, and while you were cracking a small smile, Bucky was dying on the inside. “You like to be called by other people's names?”

“I wouldn't mind being called by yours,” he blurted softly, his words coming out as a quick and uncalculated slur. He blinked abruptly when he realized that he was truly having the worst first introduction he had ever had in his life, and it was the one that somehow meant the most to him. “I- only because Eurydice is such a pretty- so is Y/N- I… I’m sorry.” He shook his head, knowing that he was so close to just having to walk away. Instead of embarrassing himself further, he just gave you a short smile and waved, turning on his heel.

“I’m Orpheus, then. Maybe Bucky, too.” He slowly turned back around, a shocked look on his face. Had you really spoken to him again with your own free will?

Bucky knew that he wasn’t ugly. No god or demigod was ever ugly, other than poor Hephaestus. He knew that he had his own sort of charm and that he could bring the roughest of people to tears and the saddest of people to joy with his music, but he didn’t know anything else. He had three redeeming qualities that swirled in his head constantly- he was pretty, he had music, and he had a famous mother.

“Are you a singer?”

“Huh?” So much for eloquence.

You bit your lip. “You speak… you speak like you have a song in your heart. Are you a singer?”

He was stumped. Most knew at least of his music if nothing else. He was the most famed god or man to ever strum a lute besides maybe Apollo. Most knew nothing of his personality and nothing about him other than the fact that he was born to play and sing, and you didn’t? Where had you been living? “Well, I’m Orpheus.”

There was a grin on your face, and Bucky knew that he never wanted to see anything other than that for the rest of his life. “And that makes you a singer?”

He opened his mouth again, ready to talk about who he was born from and where he learned to play and who taught him, but when he looked deeper and saw the spark of mischief in your eyes, he leaned back and held back a small smile of his own. His heart fluttered and grew two sizes. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

“Maybe I don’t,” you said, obvious teasing in your voice, and somehow it still stayed kind. “Maybe I do, and just wanted a free song out of you.”

She knows me, he thought, and his heart may as well have let out a lovesick sigh from within the confines of his chest. She has never heard me sing before, but she will. I’ll sing her a thousand songs.

“I’ll sing you all the songs you desire if you marry me,” he blurted, and while his mind was scolding him for uttering those words so quickly, his heart was steady on beating and so sure of itself that he told his mind off.

To his subtle surprise, you didn’t look shocked. You weren’t disgusted by his rather bold approach and most importantly, you weren’t laughing at him. He held onto your silence in limbo, waiting for you to say something that would either crush him to bits or send his soul rising so high that he reached the cloudy gates of Olympus.

“If you can make me a song that can make the skies open up and weep without singing a word, then I’ll marry you.”

His heart soared. His hands shook. He could have sworn that even his toes clenched. But all you could see were his wide, boyish eyes, and the hopeful look that dawned across his face. He nodded quickly. “I’ll do anything.”

He saw your lips pull up into a smile, genuine and even a little shy, and he couldn’t help but want to step closer. But he knew he had already been up front and abrupt, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away.

“Okay,” you said, nodding your own head slowly. “I’ll see you soon, then, Bucky.” You took a step back, eyes still connected to his blue ones until you finally turned around and walked away with the same basket on your arm, same dress swaying with the tuneless song of the wind.

The three of them stood in silence, watching you walk away, taking pieces of Bucky’s heart with you in your cradled arms. The bustling of the town was loud, moving about like nothing of significance had happened right where they were all standing, and Bucky found it nothing short of insane. Did no one else just see how the world stopped turning for that one girl? How the Fates put a pause on the clock just so that they could meet?

Steve’s voice brought him out of it. “Did you just ask for her hand in marriage?”

He didn’t even have the energy to shrug. All the swirled in his mind was love, passion, music, and you. You, you, you. “I had to.”

“How will you even find her again?” Steve asked, his logic once again being the only thing that held Bucky down to the ground.

“I know the work of Eros when I see it,” Sam said to Steve, shaking his head somewhat fondly at the pale boy with brunette hair who was still staring off in the direction you left in, like you would miraculously appear again. “They’ll find each other again soon enough.”

The hours went by and then the daylight turned into night and back to day again, and Sam’s words couldn’t have been truer. Your spirit and your face and your voice found Bucky with every few seconds that passed by. He couldn’t blink without seeing you. He couldn’t listen to anyone without hearing you. He couldn’t breathe without smelling your beautiful scent. Everything tasted bland, looked plain, and sounded like white noise after he met you. He knew that until his last (and unlikely) breath, his heart would ache for nothing more than to be yours. He wanted his ring to be on your finger, and yours to be on his.

So he began to make a song.

§§§

He worked tirelessly. The hours below the sun that used to be spent laughing and playing with Steve and Sam were exchanged for hours of composing. His normally perfect posture was hunched over as he tried to find the melody that had stirred in his heart when he first saw you- because he knew that was it.

By the end of twelve days of pure struggling, most of the song was finished. He was a fast worker, so fast that it made everyone else’s heads spin, but he felt it was going too slowly. But then again, he was fast at everything. The melody was as stuck with him as his skin was to his body. He was sure that it would never leave him, even if he wrote a thousand more songs. And part of him never wanted it to go, because it was so you.

He had only held one conversation with you, and it wasn’t long enough, but he felt like he had known you for years. He felt like he had sung to you hundreds of times and danced with you a hundred times more. Your soul felt so familiar yet so foreign that he had to chase after you, and had to discover anything that he could have missed. He knew that you were his destiny, and he had a feeling that you knew he was yours.

The song he was writing wasn’t sad, but it brought tears to his eyes all the same. It wasn’t about longing or loss or chasing after something that would never come to you, but it made Steve and Sam wipe their eyes all the same. It was about your beauty, your inherent wit and kindness, and the way that you set his soul free from chains he didn’t even know of. It was about a love he had never dreamed of finding or even thought to be true, and that was enough to make the three of them weep.

“I think it’s finished, Buck.” This came from Steve after he wiped his eyes again, sitting through the full song again even though his heart aches for a love he had never felt before. “Sam thought it was done days ago.”

Sam had left the two of them alone days ago, claiming that he couldn’t stand to hear the melody and cry each time, claiming that it was beautiful but too much. It made sense. Even Bucky himself was starting to feel the effects of it. But Steve was a stubborn thing, and he would sit through it for as long as Bucky would play it.

“You think it’s enough to make the skies open and cry?” Bucky breathed out, loosely quoting the words he had heard from you not too long ago.

“Even if it’s not, it will surely win her over,” Steve said. “She was already wooed by you, you’re a fool not to see it. She was excited enough that you even agreed to make the song in the first place, anyway.”

Bucky sat there for a few minutes as his fingers tingled, expecting to be used again to pluck the magnificent strings. But he set his instrument down on the log he sat on, sighing and placing a hand under his chin, his thoughts trailing over to you for the thousandth time. “I hope she accepts it.”

Steve just looked at him. “I think that if you came empty handed and told her half of the words you tell me and Sam, she’d follow you anywhere.”

Steve was right. Steve had to have been right, or he was going to wilt right in front of you. He had to be. The brunet nodded, biting his pink lip before opening his mouth again. “Where do you think I’ll find her?”

§§§

It didn’t take long to find you at all. Bucky went to find you alone, finding you because something inside of him told him to search the flowering fields nearby, and there you were. There was a hat made of straw over your head to cover your eyes and face from the sun, and you had the same basket on your arm that you had the other days. It was empty this time, and he had no doubt that you were looking at the flowers for fun before going to look for fruit. He couldn't help but smile fondly at you from across the field, and then he was gripping his lyre and taking a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he called out, his voice full of emotion instead of being the strong sound he wanted it to be. Nonetheless, it caught your attention, and then your pretty eyes were wide on him. Immediately, your feet turned in his direction and you made your way across the meadow, and he followed suit. He met you in the middle, so nervous that the grin that was deep inside of him wasn’t coming out at all.

You were both at a loss for words as you stood close to each other. His hands shook at his sides, aching to hold your hands in his. He wondered if they were as soft as your voice, or as smooth as the petals flowers you admired. “You came?”

He blinked. Of course he did. It was all he could think of doing. “My only regret is not coming sooner,” he admitted, and he watched you angle your eyes downwards, and he smiled at your shyness. “Would you like to hear it?”

Your eyes were connecting with his again, and he could have sworn that your smile could have put him in an early grave. He was momentarily stunned by you and your brightness, so stunned that he hardly even heard what you said. “Of course I would.”

“So then you’ll hear it,” he said softly, his heart and mind completely taken over by you in your presence. He fixed his lyre into position, his fingers already fixed into the correct spots as he began to play your song.

His eyes were shut as he strummed just as he had practiced thousands of times, but he knew it felt different. His body was buzzing with excitement and something else he couldn’t identify, but he loved it. It made him play stronger. His eyes shut even more as he felt the music, swaying side to side a bit as he felt his heart open up to you, finally content with you hearing the song.

He didn’t even realize that he was done until all he could hear was quiet sniffles. He pried his left eye open, almost too scared to look for your reaction, but when he saw that you were just looking up at him with watery eyes and a wobbly smile, he opened his other eye, ready to spring into action.

The only thought going through his mind was that it was impossible that you liked it. The way you were looking at him reminded him of the way people looked at sculptures of ancient monsters— a muted type of awe, but also a sense of discomfort. He brought you to tears, and not in the way he wanted to. He ruined it.

“I- was it bad?” He blurted out, and he cursed himself at ruining his own chance. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you didn’t like it-”

“How long have you been playing that song?”

You were too beautiful. Too gentle. You were melting his brain into mush, and he doubted that he would be able to pick up his lyre for another round even if you begged him. “I… I just made it. For you, I made it with you in mind.”

Your facial expression didn’t change. “Where’s the ring?”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“The rings we’re going to wear when we wed,” you said, almost teasing. “Do you have them?”

His eyes widened. “You want to marry me?” He asked, leaning forward a bit in shock. “The sky didn’t- the rain never came.”

“I cried,” you said, a small smile on your face. You still hadn’t wiped your tears, and he watched them frozen on your face, stuck in time. “I didn’t expect the work of the gods. I just wanted you to play for me.”

He was bewildered. He had half of the mind to ask you if you truly meant it again, but he took his excitement and ran with it. “And you… you feel this too?”

You took his right hand into yours, and he swore that his souls ascended to the gates of Olympus and waltzed right in. “I felt it the second I saw you, Bucky.”

He blushed something fierce before looking down at the ground, shame overtaking his sheer admiration for you. “There’s something I should tell you before you say you want to be with me.”

“Tell me anything,” you encouraged softly, one of your hands coming up to brush his warm cheek.

“I don’t have much.”

And he didn’t. He had Sam and Steve and a nomadic lifestyle. He never stayed in the same place for long, and he didn’t have a roof over his head. He didn’t need one. Rain and wind and fire didn’t bother him. He preferred to live under the canopy of trees and the protection of nature. But he knew humans didn’t. He knew humans— especially women— liked when their partners brought things to the table, and he had nothing but strings and whistles. He had nothing materialistic. He had no gems, no coins, no house, and fancy clothes— nothing money could buy. But he looked at you and saw that you deserved it all, and even more he saw that he had no way to even provide it for you.

“I live in many different places, I don’t have a home. I don’t have money. I don’t have… I can’t buy you dresses or shoes or any of the stuff you would probably like… and I’m sorry. I know that will probably change everything, but I just wanted you to know.”

You took a step forward, strong and secure, and then your chin was tilted upwards. “Like I said, where are the rings?”

Bucky grinned.

§§§

The day of your wedding was blessed by the gods, whether they admitted it or not. You married each other in the meadow Bucky found you in with a small crowd of people, and when you kissed as man and wife, peace washed over the both of you, and it felt like your marriage had been approved by all far and wide. The kiss that you shared to make the wedding official was short and sweet and full of the most innocent of passion, and he felt so adored by the soft touch of your lips that he felt a singular tear cross the terrain of his pale face for the first time in years.

He didn’t even deny it.

He didn’t deny the way that you danced together was perfect. He had never guided you, had hardly even danced with another woman, but it was perfect. It was like he had practiced with you before a hundred times, and the feel of your hands in his was what kept him sane. He was convinced that you could do anything new with him and it would feel like you had done it before, just because you were so familiar to him as a whole.

He had known you for what felt like seconds in the grand scheme of things, but you knew him inside out and he knew you better than he knew himself. He could find you in the dark, you could identify him with just a whisper of his voice, and he could fall in love with you over and over without even touching you. He would perform the Sisyphean task of falling in love with you over and over again if it meant that he could be next to you.

And luckily, it turned out that you didn’t need the things that Bucky was sure you were going to. He got you a small house just for the two of you to come back to, and he still roamed around in the area. Steve and Sam would walk off and come back weeks later, just like they used to when it was the three of them together. And there would Bucky be, at the house he made possible for you, and happier than ever.

Bucky lived an extremely modest life with you, and he liked it. Farming and getting water from wells and working for the food that was on your tables, cutting wood to feed the flames in the pit in the middle of your main room. Life was somewhat repetitive, so repetitive that he was scared he would lose you to your wild imagination and beautiful, adventurous heart. But it had never been as fulfilling as it was with you.

The little things were what made his day. It was waking up with you at his side, tucked into his arms and still sleeping soundly while he made songs up in his head dedicated to you that made him smile. It was listening to you hum to yourself while you washed corn and peaches and squash in the buckets of water you had carried down the hill that served as your property. It was the way you would pull him out of a funk by taking his hand and leading him out of his chair, dancing to music that didn’t exist, or the way you would coax him to sing to the moon because you wanted a longer night. A longer night meant more time spent with each other.

When you woke up after your long nights, sometimes you would coax him out of bed for some daily challenge, a challenge that usually he would end up beating you at. Part of him believed that you just wanted him to show off, but you always said otherwise. You would challenge him in singing only to have him go first and not even sing, claiming you had already lost. You would tell him you wanted to race him to the stream and back, knowing that you would lose by a long shot. He could run circles around you if he hardly tried, and that was just in his godly blood. But there was never any jealousy, never any animosity, never any bitterness. It was all just sweet, it felt.

You were just so magical. It was so simple, the things that made him happy, but he knew that just one call from your soul to his was more than just communication. He craved it. He knew from the moment that he met you that his soul would always seek yours, even into the afterlife. He knew that every day with you would be as beautiful as you were on your wedding day, shining brighter than any gem or any star in the night sky. And none of it would ever change.

§§

Things changed. Just as the sun rose and set, so did time. It cranked on without a single hint of Bucky aging, and you were still as youthful as you were the three years prior. Life was still beautiful, and that was all that mattered.

You had traveled around the world with him, kissed in so many different cities with different kings and different cultures and different music. You had met so many different people, lived so many different lives, just to go back home and settle there. It was wonderful. He loved you, and you loved him. It was the kind of love that was never at risk of fading or thawing away. It was the kind of love that was only spurned on as the years crawled by, the days acting as twigs added to an already strong fire. It was such a beautiful thing that he had with you, and every day with you felt like one that was blessed by the gods themselves.

Until it didn’t.

Bucky had never felt fear in his heart like he did when he heard your scream travel across the meadow. He didn’t even put on his shoes before tearing off to find you, torn between begging you to make another sound so that he could hear you or pleading the gods to make the sound of your distress stop and never happen again. His chest rose and fell with the exertion, and he knew that he had never been so afraid in his life.

The scream was all that echoed in his mind when he ran through the woods, and as he stumbled upon fallen fruits and flowers that he just knew were yours. He realized he was at the end of a ravine almost too late, and when he looked down, following the steep curve of the slope with wary and partially-knowing eyes, he immediately doubled over.

There you were in all your fallen glory, legs bent unnaturally and neck twisted even worse. The light yellow of your dress was stained with brown and dark green, and in some places a deep red that made him sick to his stomach. Your eyes were looking up at the sky, staring right into the sun as it shone down on your figure, taunting him just like the breeze that began to make your dress look so lively.

Bucky fell to his knees right on the edge of the ravine, his heart not even lurching when he lost his balance. An arm reached out to you, like it was stuck in the moment before you fell and he could reach you. Tears were coming down his face slowly, steadily as he fought to get breaths in. He called your name.

He didn’t know how many times he called your name, or how far the sadness in it traveled. It must have been loud and long enough, because before he knew it, there were hands on his shoulders. They were warm and familiar and even the smallest bit comforting in that moment, but not enough. He wanted your hands.

“Let’s get away from the edge, Buck.” It was Steve’s voice, strong and gentle and the backbone of the situation. Bucky’s eyes pried open at the feeling of Steve’s sturdy hands pulling him backwards, and he retched in his mouth at the sight of your broken, soulless body at the bottom. He hadn’t even realized he had gotten so close to it himself.

“I’ll go down to…” Sam started, trailing off with a soft and distraught look on his face when he caught sight of Bucky again, and Steve nodded at him.

“Let’s get you up, Buck. Up and Washed off.” He hadn't even realized he was dirty at all. His hands were covered in dirt and under his fingernails were the same earthy brown he was used to. He had been pulling up grass from where he grieved without even noticing.

His sobs were so loud that they hurt Steve’s ears. His dragging steps were causing such a disturbance to the land around him that animals seemed to crane their necks at him and cast their glances his way, as if wondering how on earth a person could be that distressed. His mouth was moving, but it looked and sounded more like babbling and trembling as waterfalls came down the canvas of his pale skin.

“Buck, you have to calm down. You’re about to have an attack.”

He didn’t know if he meant heart attack or a panic attack, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that you were dead, all twisted up at the bottom of a ravine. Your soul had left the earth, left your body, and you were just laying there like you had never been alive. Like you had never held his hand, or kissed his cheek, or wore his ring or laughed or sang or read fine poetry while eating the fruits you had picked. Seeing you down there with your open and dim eyes felt like you had never lived at all.

“Keep walking with me, buddy. You’re going to be just fine.”

But he wasn’t. Every step he took away from you made bile come up in his throat. He wanted to be as far away from your lifeless body as possible, but he didn’t want to ever let you go. He wanted to hold you close to him until it felt like you were alive again. But as his heart beat seemed to freeze up but race like a horse all the same, he realized that you would never be alive again. You were only as alive as your last few moments, whether they were filled with the joy and freedom of having the wind on your face or the fear of falling. He could do nothing to change it.

But he would try to do everything.

§§

He spoke to everything and nothing. Steve and Sam would take turns coming to him after they celebrated your life. It reminded Bucky of the way that his mothers friends used to come watch him while his mother was off and away somewhere, and how it felt like they thought of him as a cute little burden. He knew deep down that his friends cared for him more than anything and that he cared about them just as much, but he couldn’t think about anything but you. He wouldn’t.

It was a service that made the skies open just like you said they would for his voice. The day lilies that surrounded you and Bucky seemed to be weeping with him. The wind came from east to west and west to east, spinning around and throwing in the scent of the flower with the smell of oncoming rain, reflecting the turmoil he was feeling on the inside. He could have sworn that the earth had trembled just like his hands that held your cold and still ones. But if the world had caved down under him at that moment, he wouldn’t have moved. He wouldn’t have opened his mouth to scream, or even say a word. He would have only held your hand tighter.

He spoke to the moon more often than he did Steve and Sam. They hovered, but it was the kind of hovering that Bucky felt he would appreciate sooner or later. He would sit every night and talk to the moon with his legs pulled into his chest, small and in such a vulnerable position that it would have made him feel uncomfortable at any other time. But he was vulnerable. He had been knocked off of his feet and winded. The world kicked him while he was down more times than he could count, and they had opened his chest and peeked right into his heart before seeing it was unworthy and walking away from him. It left him bleeding out in the forest while he listened to the birds eventually go on back to chirping, and watched the flowers push through and grow, and people laugh and smile and talk like nothing changed.

He was doing just that. He was lying in the flowering fields that he would always swear belonged to you, the both of you, when he heard soft footsteps. He didn’t care to look up. He knew it wasn’t Steve or Sam, but why would he care? He had nothing to be scared of now that you were gone.

“You’re Orpheus.” It wasn’t a question.

He didn’t even blink, but an annoyance he couldn’t shake bubbled up inside of him at hearing the name his mother granted him coming from a stranger. As much as he wanted complete silence, he couldn’t help but say- “Bu- sure. I’m Orpheus.”

“Everyone heard, you know.” The voice was of an old, frail woman. Bucky knew that without even looking, He ignored the fact that pity was strong in her voice, and that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He ignored the way he knew that she thought that she had the right to talk about his wife, about the way he had lost you far too soon. She knew nothing. But he let her speak. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t say a word. He didn't even recognize words as an option. He would stay silent and wait until she left. Maybe if he was quiet enough or stared up at the sky in such a still manner that it scared her, she would leave him. If he pretended to be as dead as he felt, he was sure she would leave.

“There hasn’t been a good song since you’ve stopped playing.” He heard rustling, and then he dared to look off to the side to see the old woman struggling to sit, cane wobbling in her hand as she finally plopped her frail bones onto the ground near him. He sighed heavily and looked back up to the sky. “You know, you’ve gotta be the most moving musician to ever walk the earth, from both god and man.”

It was a compliment that would have had him blushing years ago. It would have had his young mind fumbling for his lute or lyre and clearing his godly voice, asking if she wanted to sing with him or just listen. Now, it incited nothing. It meant nothing. “I doubt I’ll ever play again.”

“You pleased god and man,” the old woman carried on, almost like she had never heard him open to speak with that raspy voice of his that was so uncharacteristic of him that it hurt to hear. “Anyone would have done anything to hear your music.”

He finally turned to the side to look the old woman in her face, and he blinked at her. “I’m grieving.”

“You could persuade anyone with seven strings and five notes, don’t you understand that?” Her voice was almost angry. It was hard and nearly pleading, so different from her previous tone that Bucky snapped his head her way. “If I were you, I would have been at Death’s gates.”

They were staring at each other. Bucky was looking at the decrepit woman with curly gray hair that looked like she had dodged a visit to the Gates of Death herself more than once with shocked eyes. His heart started to beat again, like her words were arousing some kind of vicious hope that he never even knew could exist.

“The gods blessed your union. They won’t ever say, but they did bless your marriage. What makes you think that if you beg, you won’t get a blessed reunion as well?”

She disappeared within seconds of her final words, leaving a revelation swirling around in his mind and haunting his every thought.

§§

His feet ached. His hands were beginning to blister from stroking the strings of his tired lyre, and his throat was even beginning to strain. He had been singing for hours, pouring his heart out at the hidden gates of the Underworld, begging for an audience. But above all the physical pain ranked the ache in his heart, the unbearable feeling of your death sitting on his shoulders and ripping him apart from the inside. His grief was destroying him.

Hades might as well have had ears plugged up with the same wax that was used by Odysseus and his men. Usually he went undisputed, because just as life was certain, so was death. There was no questioning the decision of it, or the Fates, or the rule of Hades and his acceptance of his dear Eurydice into his kingdom. Everyone was allowed to plead and beg, but no one ever went down to the gates of the Underworld to ask for the release of a loved one, whether they were man or god. But there he was, standing in dirtied pants with fingertips plucked pink, and tears running down his face.

He didn’t know if he would ever gain the strength to leave. He didn’t know what he would do if someone even bothered to humor him. He wasn’t going to be able to have you back. He was never going to be able to bring you back up above, have you under the sun and shining beautifully like you were born to do. What would he beg of them? For them to let him see that your soul ended up in the Asphodel Meadows? For them to let him hold you one last time before you drank from the Lethe and forgot everything that happened? What if you had already drank from it? Each thought made his stomach lurch more, and his music grew louder and more desperate, like the final battle cry of a warrior.

His back was up against a tree as he sang out again in the night, praying for someone to hear him and take pity on his poor soul. Strike me down and send me with her, if you cannot give me the gift of seeing her again. The same tears that had been steadily pouring down his face were gathered in a puddle at his unmoving feet, yet he didn’t mind. He couldn’t.

“You have woken my wife.”

Bucky’s playing stopped immediately. “What?”

The man before him was dark. He was tall and seemed to take up almost the entire space even though he was only a bit wider than Bucky. His shoulders were broad and his chin was strong, and his eyes were sharp even under the gloomy look they had to them. His cheekbones were sunken in and his eyes had a ring of black around them, like he hadn’t slept in a thousand years. His lips were set in a hard line, but he didn’t look displeased. Most notably, he had a dark aura surrounding him, even black most coming from behind him and nearly encasing him.

“I don’t repeat myself, and luckily, it looks like you heard me the first time.” His voice was deep, enthralling, like a song that Bucky would never dare write himself.

What was a man this terrifying, this powerful, doing in the forest? How had Bucky woken a soul when he was in soulless territory? He hadn’t seen houses for leagues.

Something inside of Bucky begged him to apologize. It begged him to get into his knees and look downwards towards the growing grass and hope to be spared. If this was before he lost you, maybe he would have listened to it. But what did he have to truly live for now that his darling was gone?

“I’m sorry to have brought you out of your dwellings because of my grieving.”

There was a certain kind of silence that would have made Bucky’s skin crawl if he even dared to look the being’s way. “Grieving?”

“My wife.” He breathed out, finally letting his arms loose as he let his trust lyre fall down to his side. “She… has fallen prey to death.”

“Ah,” the man said, his voice nearly a scoff. “I see. The circle of life.”

“And now my life shall go in circles, on and on and down the same miserable path without the woman I love,” Bucky stated, resting his head back against the tree. “I wish I knew a man that grieved. Me… I live amongst gods. We don’t grieve. We don’t die. I have never met a man who had an inch of grief in his heart. I feel like the first to ever feel it.”

“We can lose people in other ways than death,” the man said. “Death is the most absolute, but it seems to hurt a lot less than voluntary abandonment.”

“This is my first brush with death, and I have to admit that I’m not the biggest fan.” What an understatement.

“That’s a shame. My wife is quite the fan of you and your… grief. She says it’s the most moving thing she’s ever heard.” Bucky just nodded, eyes far off. “She wants to meet you.”

“I don’t really want to meet anyone.”

“You don’t want to see my wife? You don’t want a two way ticket to the world you’ve been singing about taking passage to for days now, Orpheus?”

His head turned slowly, eyes widening as he tried to piece thoughts and facts together with his sluggish mind. “What?” But he knew. He knew with another glance at this man that he was no man at all, but one of the original gods. He was Hades, in the divine flesh, standing right before him with a glint in his eyes that meant he was satisfied by Bucky’s shock. He went to his knees, kneeling as a sob piled up into his throat.

“Your Excellency,” he began to plead, recalling back to the times he was a young god, listening to his mother explaining the way that he should speak to all the gods who came before him- especially one as powerful as Hades. “I apologize. My mind is not set right— the loss of my wife has taken a toll on me. Please forgive me.”

“Your grief blinds you.”

There was no point in lying. “It does.”

“I, too, was blinded by grief. In fact, it happens every other six months, though I suppose you young gods and humans call it winter and fall. My wife would leave, gone with a stroke of wind and then come back only to wilt again. But she, just like your own wife, will learn that there is nothing we can do about the situations we are in. Destiny will have us where she has us, and your Eurydice’s path above has ended.”

Bucky wanted to scream at him. He wanted to refuse him and tell him that Destiny and the Fates would have to bend to his will, because there was no other way. He couldn’t last another day without you, let alone a lifetime. But the god he was speaking to was Hades, and Bucky was just Orpheus, a low level demigod.

“However, my wife still wants to meet you. She wants to hear your song clearly, where it’s not muffled by distance.” His heart began to race. His hands were shaking. His eyes were wide as he tried to take in a deep breath, waiting for the gloomy god’s next words. “If you agree to see her and play her that song of yours, I’ll let you see this wife you speak of. Does that sound fair?”

Nodding was all Bucky could do to stay awake.

§§

The Underworld was just as gloomy as it was in the stories. Black and grey ran together to create a shadowy world, dismal and dark. It was full of strange sounds, like the whistling of thick wind that almost sounded like wailing humans. The air was so heavy that Bucky was finding it hard to breathe, and there was a mist so hard to cut through that Bucky could hardly see more than three feet in front of him at a time. Hades led him, and the only reason he could see him was because of his true height showing, and the fact that his dark smoke was even darker than the mist.

His hands shook. Both of them held onto his lyre for dear life. It was close to his chest, strings facing away from him, but still it felt like he could feel the vibrations of it, like the air was mocking him back by playing a song of its own. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and fall to his knees, the environment putting him in near shock.

But he had to find you.

Hades stopped in his tracks, turning his sunken face towards Bucky, who had to fight to not flinch. “If you play for my wife and she likes it, I’ll take you to see yours.” He nodded his head quickly, putting his lyre into position, his arms trembling with anxiety. The double doors opened without the old god even touching them, and then Bucky was faced with an ancient throne room, elegant and dark all the same.

The first thing he did once he got near the sitting Queen of the Underworld was kneel. Tears were already swirling in his eyes, and his throat was lurching. If he were a human, he was sure that he would have been throwing up. He prayed silently to his mother, calling upon the strength of the Muses and their talents into his blood once more.

It was silent until the queen finally spoke. “So you’re the musician?”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“I expected you to be much older,” she said, her soft voice a plain contrast from her husband’s, and the dark setting of the Underworld. And then, Bucky understood that the stories weren’t embellished. At first thought, she didn’t seem to belong down there, least of all with Hades. He didn’t dare look up at either of them. “Your grief seems to be centuries old.” It felt like it was. The hole in his heart felt older than he was.

“This is Orpheus, son of Calliope,” Hades explained. “He can’t be more than a few thousand years, if I remember correctly.”

“Young, very young.” Persephone mused, the tone of her voice almost curious. “And what causes you to play this song?”

He explained it. He explained all of it. Your death, his need to see you, his stupid hope of bringing you back home where you belonged. He left it all on the table for them both to hear, even though he knew that the odds were unlikely for him. He didn’t care. He didn’t care if he got ridiculed or thrown back out of the gate, all that mattered to him was that he tried his hardest to get you. And that you knew, deep down in your forgotten mind, that he tried.

“Your music has moved me so, truly.” Persephone said, and then Bucky looked up. She was beautiful, flowers all over her body. She was the brightest thing down there, no doubt, and she still had that godly glow that all the other gods had, a golden rim around her body. She turned her face toward her husband without taking her eyes off of Bucky. “And I want to give you a chance.”

Bucky’s heart stopped. “Your Excellency?”

She was facing Hades now. “Give him a condition.” She muttered, her hands gripping the arms of the throne she sat on. “But let him try.”

Hades frowned. “If I let her go, how many humans do you think will hear of this tale and try to do the same?”

“None.” The goddess answered quickly. “They’re afraid of you. This boy is not. And unlike gods, humans accept death. They know that it is a part of the cycle, and they wouldn’t dare dispute it. This is just a confused young god. He hasn’t seen death before. This will be the only time anyone will ever ask this of you, Hades.”

It was pure silence. It seemed to stretch on for eons as Hades contemplated his wife’s words. The lyre had fallen to the ground minutes before, and Bucky felt himself reaching for it. Tears were streaming down his face now. “I’ll play for you again. I’ll play for you for a decade straight if you let me take her home at the end, if you let her remember me.” He added desperately, body trembling with anticipation.

Hades had dark eyes, and those dark eyes were full of uncertainty and something close to anger while he stared at Bucky, with a look on his face that was so blank that it frightened him. His wife’s hand was on his chest as she pleaded with him on Bucky’s behalf, yet he only stared Bucky down.

“If you can walk your way out of my domain without turning back to look at her, you can take her with you above ground.” Bucky sobbed. “If you look back, boy, she stays in the Asphodel Meadows.”

Bucky sobbed again.

§§

His back faced everything. He couldn’t hear anything except for the beating of his own heart, the heartbeat that seemed to extend all the way down to the fingertips that gripped the infamous lyre in his hand. He shook with every breath, and every blink was harsh on his eyes as he tried not to cry.

He wished he could hear you. He wished he could hear your soft voice reassure him, tell him that you remembered everything, that you were right behind him and that you would follow him everywhere, just like he would follow you. Just like he had followed you. He wished he could hear you.

He wished he could feel you. If your warm hands could just ghost over his shoulders and push him forward without quite letting go, he would have made the trek a thousand times. If he could feel your hands brushing away the hair out of his line of sight, he would have been walking before Hades even gave permission. He wished he could feel you.

He couldn’t. But he would walk anyway.

He hardly heard Hades give permission, his ominous tone echoing through the otherwise empty cavernous area, or the sound of Persephone’s whispers. But he could feel it in the air, suffocating and burying him.

Every lift of his foot was agonizing, every step far heavier than he ever imagined he could bear. But he would do it for you. He would push. Every whisper of doubt that crossed his mind, he would throw away.

It didn’t matter that at times, he wasn’t sure if you got what you needed from him. It didn’t matter that he felt like you weren’t fulfilled by the life you had with him. He had faith. It dwindled with every step, but he had faith. He would keep it and nurture it with every breath he had inside of him on the long journey back home.

Seconds started to feel like minutes, and minutes started to feel like hours. He hated it. His throat was closing in on itself like his voice was his enemy, like the voice everyone thought was so golden was the voice that would be the final nail in his coffin.

His feet were still aching, but the ache had become dull. Louder and more painful was the feeling of the cold biting his skin, like it was a reminder to stay conscious, to stay alert and thinking. Thinking was his vice and virtue. The silence was too loud. His mind was in pain, his heart even worse as he started to feel like the cold was his antagonizer. It was cold up above. It was in the cold where you suffered the most, where you struggled to stay positive. It was in the cold where he could hardly provide for you. It was in the cold where he had to hold you so close to him that air didn’t stand a chance between the two of you because every other man had already chopped the good wood.

But at the same time, he began to feel warm. It felt so warm to his skin that it felt like he was about to step into Tartarus. And it was in the warmth that you dressed in that pretty, short dress that got you harassed by men without humanity. It was in the summer that he found he couldn’t defend you. It was in the summer that he had a flash of realization that he wasn’t strong enough. It was in the summer that he got an even more fleeting flash of the thought that he wasn’t enough at all.

It was in the spring, in the months where there was sun and soft breezes, that he realized again that he was of no help. He had gotten a job one spring that was honest work, but brought in a lot less for the household than you did. He was working with the hands that were already calloused over to help men far more experienced than him craft things to sell to the town. He worked hard to come home tired just to know deep down that for all his work, he had not much more than chump change and a positive outlook to his name.

It was one autumn that he realized how much he had failed you, and he swept it under the rug like he did every other season. One autumn, he walked in on you crying in the arms of your friend- the local plum vendor that Bucky always used to buy from- about how you were terrified of being pregnant. As he walked through the Underworld, he asked himself how he could have ever forgotten that moment. Because what you said had shaken his heart to the core.

“There’s no way I would be able to take care of it.”

It wasn’t the certain doubt that was plants in your mind. It wasn’t the fact that neither of you had noticed Bucky hovering in the door because you were sobbing so hard. It wasn’t the way the woman comforted you better than he thought he was ever able to- because with him, you just never addressed the bad. It was as swept under the rug as dirt was. It was the way you said “I”. Alone. By yourself. Him and his contributions weren’t even in the picture. Were they even contributions?

It was never his voice that was his greatest feature and his worst. It was his mind. His mind was his killer. His mind was a killer, his poison and his weapon, and he was turning it right onto himself. His legs trembled as he fought the urge to look, to crane his neck and get his disappointment over with. Were you following him? Did you even remember him- or had you already drank from the river that would steal all of the life that you had before? Had Hades tricked him into leaving quietly?

And if you did remember him, why on earth would you follow him? You would be following him back to a land that was full of struggle and making it through day by day. You would be trudging after him this time only for him to bring up the rear in everything else. He would be the one smiling at you after you came from working to the bone, providing for him and yourself. That was all he ever had to offer, a smile and a song. What could he truly trade for a smile and a song? What could he get you?

Nothing.

What could he do if you got hurt again?

Nothing.

What could he do with his life when he surfaced and found you not there, far behind in the Underworld?

Nothing.

The doubt piled up. It replaced the faith like the faith was a forest and doubt was a wildfire. Every footstep added to it. He was convinced. He was sure that the result of him turning around at that one moment could be no worse than him turning around when he got to be above ground and away from the suffocating death. You weren’t going to be there. Whether he turned right then or in a hundred years, you weren’t going to be there. If you were in your right, beautiful mind, you would have seen him begging and turned your eyes from him and pretended like you hadn't known him.

He couldn’t tell where he was. His breathing was too shaky for him to think about anything else but breathing and thinking about you. It was too dark. His feet hadn’t touched grass yet and he knew he had to try to keep pushing, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He was bursting at the seams to confirm something that he already knew was coming for him.

His feet dragged. His steps sped up but it felt like he was fighting quicksand. He was struggling to walk through it, fighting to take breaths in it. The shallow breaths were somehow pitched high, bouncing off of the rocky, cavernous walls he began to hate. The only thing on his mind was doubt, doubt, doubt. It was a fever he couldn’t sweat out. A tremor he couldn’t shake away. A dark color he couldn’t paint over. A shadow he couldn’t run from. And just when he couldn’t fight it anymore, he saw light.

He never ran so fast in his entire life. He wanted to escape the feeling clawing at his throat and chest, the dread and preparation for pure disappointment. He wanted to step into the light, step into something he knew, before he allowed himself to collapse in grief again. It felt like the light was getting closer, and then it would fade again and come back lighter. He didn’t register the sound of sobbing until the sound faded out and stopped echoing, and then he was aware that his feet were touching the grass.

His feet were touching grass.

His hands shook as he raised them to his face, cupping his cheeks as he came to the realization that he was out of the nightmare that was the Underworld. Emotions were rushing into him faster than he could understand what they were, and then his mind stopped. His face was dry. His head whipped around.

Your eyes were wide and watery. Your dress was torn and bloody, just like it was when you had died. Your hair was a mess, and you were shaking from crying so hard. You stood there like a ghost, transparent and out of place, but crying real tears all the same. The sobs he had been hearing weren’t his own. They were yours. And you were still encased by the shadows of the Underworld.

You had been trying to catch up to him.

“Oh!” His exclamation was more of a dying moan than anything else. His trembling hands cupped his mouth again as he watched you cry again, crying even harder than that one time where the leaves were falling. He uttered your name once, and then once turned into four times, and as your cries got louder, his muttering turned into a shout, your name the one word he was calling out over and over again.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry baby.” He watched as you opened and shut your mouth over and over, shaking your head as silence was all you could produce. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He was drawing blood from how his fists were clenched. “Baby, my sweet love, my darling,” the names were dripping from his tongue like honey, like it was a balm that could soothe the both of you. His apologies were just as tender, as quiet and disbelieving as the language his eyes were speaking. He couldn’t help but reach out to you with a dying apology on his lips, his foot crossing the barrier you would be stuck behind forever, and just before he touched what must have been your cold skin, there was nothing but air.

Nothing but your lingering presence and his poisonous mind.

§§

He never thought that life could be so meaningless. Even before he met you, he felt like he had a purpose. He was an entertainer, a traveling man, a man who brought joy and music with him effortlessly wherever he went. Not anymore.

He was empty, and he felt like an empty glass jar. He wasn’t even an empty box— he was something anyone that had eyes could see right through. Everyone saw him and knew he was the one who had lost a wife and in turn given up all his divine talent. They looked at him through lenses that were wet with pity. He hated it.

He hated himself for doing the same to the humans who had lost loved ones. He felt horrible for giving them those looks, for telling Steve and Sam their stories without really knowing it. Now he was going through the unimaginable.

Nothing mattered, he learned. He thought that thought over and over again every time he woke up and every time he was going to sleep. He thought it while he sat in the cold on one winter night with no fire in the fireplace. It was something that would have made him worry a bit, or made him irritated at himself. Nothing really caused him to get angry or sad anymore. He was just there. It was like he was living yet another death by extension. The world gave him his cards and he played them in the worst way possible. But that’s what he did. He couldn’t change it.

He couldn’t change anything. All he could do was pray that you forgot the way that he failed you time and time again, and then where it was most important.

He would remember enough for the both of you.

****

hi guys! i feel like i literally have come back from the dead with all the time i’ve been in and out of here. it’s been so hectic and busy that i’m proud i got this out so soon lmao- i worked hard on this, so if you were feeling it please like and reblog!!

[antiloreolympus]

12 Anti LO Asks

1. STOP why are those two panels of her trying to not be a bringer of death literally two obviously different pink hues???? hello??? does this comic not have quality control??

2.Alrighty, read the recent chapter (not the fast pass but the one before) and I have questions

So like, All the side characters are back now I guess? (Also I totally forgot that Artemis went to visit Hermes - how many chapters ago was that even?)

Did... Thanatos and Daphne get together / move in together off screen?? Why is there random narration all of a sudden when LO has Never had it before? (At least that I can remember) - and who's narrating?? Why does one of the side characters need to die? Am I supposed to be invested after RS ignored them for like 20 chapters? (At least its a break from the super slow burn of HxP)

Is this going to effect the overarching plot at all? Do you think RS is gonna try and flip the myths again? (Eros + Psyche, Echo + Narcissus, Apollo + Daphne, etc. Thanatos?)

Also, yeah whats been going on with Hera since she had that Kronos premonition? Why does Daphne sound so happy / smug about Demeters probable heart attack when she eventually finds out about Persephone being in the underworld with Hades? (Whenever RS gets to that).

And what happened to Zeus being all pissy with Persephone and the Trial?

Why are there so many unconnected plot threads? I cant keep up with them all! (It also doesn't help that RS just expects readers to remember all this info after ignoring it - like Artemis going to visit Hermes).

3. If we're being completely blunt and honest here... There's no happy ending for LO. Even if RS ends it on LO Hades and Persephone being "happily" married, you can tell by his past actions that LO Hades will just keep "switching out" for "newer models", so to speak. He'll keep getting mistresses. He'll keep financially manipulating women until they get away from him (one way or another).

4. ok but as a character designer? red and pink are KNOWN CLASHERS. there's a reason ariel's marketing is all in a green/teal/purple gown now instead of the pink one she wears in the movie. pink + red, especially a very saturated, blue-undertoned pink like persephone is, are a HUGE ARTISTIC NO-NO. she needs to get a refund from whatever color theory teacher she had because they l i e d to her.

5. ok but. how cool would it have been if it was trans persephone, and kore was her stand-in (similar to a deadname, but not quite the same) until she decided on her official new name, persephone? if smythe wanted a name-change so bad she could have done so much cooler, better stuff. mtf persephone would make 'becoming a queen/princess' SO much more significant. girl you were already an heiress to begin with stfu.

6. i say this as a transgender man: sometimes smythe's art legit looks like rcdart's stuff. the  weird racial features, the huge hips and tits, the dorito-men? she's cis rcdart.

7. when its the korean imported stuff the webtoons team has to market it themselves and do as best as they can, off the translations, but western made stuff like LO has the creators all input on the marketing (duh, they made the images and banners) so the "Hell" connection is very much Rachel's doing, which kinda implies she doesn't exactly know the Hades mythology or even seems to care if Hell seems more "spicy" and "sexy".

8. no more persephone x hades. if the antis hate us making OCs so much, someone should design cyane! you know. the nymph who literally died trying to protect her?

9. To that one anon - about Apollo needing to drive the sun chariot - Helios is still up there. He could perform the duty of leading the sun across the sky. 

10. oh lo apollo is pretty clearly based off someone rachel knew and was harmed by IRL, which like if that's so then go to therapy? get help? dont take out your issues on a real god from a real place and pretend you're the second coming for homer for the bastardization of a real country's mythology and culture.

11. So you guys know that famous statue "the rape of Persephone"? I think RS took it a little too literally. While the title states 'rape' its more of an allusion to kidnapping than anything else.

Or perhaps it's titled like that to draw a comparison between the violation of Persephone's personhood, her identity and her lack of agency in the situation.

I mean, when people hear the name Persephone they tend to think of Hades wife and the story of how she was kidnapped against her will.

I think perhaps RS saw the statue and confused rape with kidnapping - or decided to conflate the two. She wanted persephone to be kidnapped And raped (for plot reasons), and thus, further stripped away Persephone's agency regarding the situation (because in some versions of the myth after Persephone is kidnapped she finds she is actually ok with the underworld so long as Hades treats her with respect - which he does).

But because RS wants Hades to be the MVP she decided (for some reason) the villify Apollo (who yes, Demeter mythologically does have beef with, but Not for that reason). 

12. Alright hold on a moment - in some versions of the myth Persephone Did wander down to the underworld by herself (because, if I recall, she heard the sorrow filled voices of the dead and wanted to help them) - and in some versions of the myth Hades isnt even present - its just Persephone ruling the underworld by herself like the badass queen she is.

Also, yes - Demeter was a loving mother who grieved for her daughter and she had every right too - but I wouldn't say Persephones kidnapping was entirely Hades' fault (as the comic points out Zeus "gifted" Persephone to Hades *real Dad of the year there*).

Also also in some versions of the myth of the Kidnapping of Persephone - Hades is noted as a pretty mild mannered God - he is respectful of Persephone and seems to love her (and yes, depending on the myth Persephone either ate the pomegranate seeds on purpose or because Hades tricked her) - there are many different variations of the myth. There isnt really a "agreed upon narrative" by everyone - as far as I know.

I think most versions of the story state that neither Hades nor Demeter were pleased with Zeus decision to have Persephone stay 6 months with each of them, but because she ate the pomegranate seeds it was a kind of rule that she had to stay for each seed she ate, hence the 6 months.

If you guys want to get some more broad details of the myth I suggest OSP's "Hades and Persephone" video - which goes a bit more into the canon.

So overall I would say, yes Demeter was a loving mother who grieved her daughter (who was stolen - in most versions) AND Hades was comparatively a decent husband, despite his flaws. Both these statements can coexist - I promise. 

[trinitytrilogy]

Zeus’ Dilemma ROs

As you, the player, encounter more information and ROs, I’ll add them here. Yes, the format was stolen from Mind Blind, because I am in love with Kent.

Alya/Ajax/Al Papadopoulos (m/f/nb) 

Age: 25

Appearance: Dark skin, dark eyes, and dark dreads that reach to about their shoulders, A always stands proud and tall, seemingly bigger than they really are. In truth, Ajax clocks in at about 5’11, Alya at 5’6, and Al at 5’8, although they all overstate their height by an inch (Ajax more often than the others). They’re very muscular and bulky, due to hours spent training their physical prowess.

About: The child of Zeus that takes after their mother, i.e. they’re calm, collected, and loyal to their partner a fault. Their exterior is hard as diamond, but once you break through it’s more like silicon carbide. A natural born leader, almost everyone at camp knows them as at least an acquaintance, but the list of people they’d call their friend is increasingly short. However, they have deathly amounts of pride, and if you decide to challenge them in anything, or if they ever lose in anything, well, good luck.

Rivalry: With M, for no reason other than the fact that neither can deal with losing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other to almost toxic levels. In truth, M is one of the only people A truly respects on Olympus.

Cyril/Cyra Masumura (m/f/nb)

Age: 19

Appearance: The first thing one normally notices about them is their height. Cyrus stands at 6′5″ and Cy at 6′2″, both of their once-blond hair now grown out to display their roots, reaching around their shoulders. Cyra stands at 6′ exactly, her once-blonde hair cascading down to her mid-back. C has dark eyes, and pale skin, occasionally giving off the impression of a human toothpick because of their skinny frame. They have large doe-eyes, and often bite their nails, leading to chewed-up nailbeds.

About: The child of Apollo with an intense dislike for poetry. They’re soft-spoken, and always attempting to smooth over any disagreement or issue. The most reliant of the ROs, they have a perfectionist complex, needing acceptance and respect from everyone they know. They attempt to become friends with everyone they can, and although they appear outgoing, they shut down and become shy very easily. They’re also easy to fluster, blushing vividly at almost any minor embarrassment.

Aspirations: To meet their aunt face to face, as they’ve only seen her in their dreams.

Kai Iosua (m/f/nb)

Age: 22

Appearance: With heterochromatic eyes (one a pale blue as turbulent as the ocean and the other a dark green and intricate as the ocean’s depths), dark auburn hair, medium brown skin, a jawline to cut glass, and a largish nose, K’s an amalgamation of traits that seem to work together perfectly. NB!K stands at around 5’6", F!K stands at around 5’2", and M!K stands at around 5’8", making them the shortest of the ROs, although they’re perfectly happy with not dying as early as the taller people, thank you very much.

About: M’s best and only friend, K’s naturally laid-back and funny. They’re very open and confident, although watch out because they can also display very manipulative tendencies. They love a good dad joke, bad joke, and tease their friends relentlessly. That said, they’re also loyal and will defend their friends against anything. They can be stubborn, very rarely, and if they’re set on an idea even M won’t argue with them. Unlike their dad, Poseidon, Kai’s not very vengeful or vindictive unless harshly prompted, but they will defend their honour. Probably the most book smart of all the ROs, they do very well in academics, and plan to pursue a career as something in that type of field once they graduate MOA at the end of the year.

Beefing: With Hermes after the Incident.

Mor(gan/timer) Bid(en) (m/f/nb) 

Age: 25; one day younger than A

Appearance: Dark blonde hair that flops in front of their face because they’re too lazy to cut it, skin tanned from hours spent practicing their powers under the hot sun, and bright blue eyes that sparkle when they smile. They’re basically a golden retriever, if a golden retriever were to begin wearing black nail-polish to look more “edgy” (they don’t pull off the edgy look well). Although a day younger and with more lean muscle than bulk, they’re 3/4 of an inch taller than A (no matter the gender), something that they take great pride in.

About: The child of Hades that takes after Zeus, i.e. they’re turbulent, vengeful, and not the best at relationships forgiveness. They try keep to themselves, but their presence takes up whatever space they enter. If you want to approach them, you need to prove yourself worthy by withstanding their death glare. Not many do. Because of that, they make a powerful leader, and they do soften when speaking in front of crowds, having the uncanny ability to say what needs to get said.

Rivalry: With A, for no reason other than the fact that neither can deal with losing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other to almost toxic levels. In truth, M actually really enjoys the challenge that A offers, and would be sad if A ever decided to stop their rivalry.

[lilyjanejohnson]

Sooo, I had been looking for a good challenge for the sims, but didn't find one about greek goddesses. So I decided to make one, Enjoy!😊

The greek goddess challenge is a 10 generation challenge. Every gen represents a different acient greek goddess. I stuck to the mythology with some, and with some I just thought some stuff up. I would like to say that this challenge is with goddesses, so treat your sims with a little respect and don't forget that they're goddesses so they can get pregnant by anyone (man/woman/nonbinary) if you want them to. I do recommend using mccc to control the gender and amount of babies :) have fun!

Gen 1: Gaia/Rhea

Mother nature. You're a very goodnatured woman who wants best for your children. Unfortunately, you don't have such a good taste in love. You constantly fall in love with the wrong people. You love nature in all it's glory and you are very zen. You love doing yoga and teaching your kids everything you know.

• Traits: Loves the outdoors, good, musiclover

• Aspiration: big happy family

• Kids: Aphrodite, Zeus, Hestia (goddess of fire), Eos (godess of dawn), Hemera (godess of the day), Apollo (god sun and music) (you can skip some if you like)

• Must marry very young (before adult) to a man/woman with hates children.

• All children must be from the same man/woman (^wife/husband) but one (affair or finally breaking things off)

• Must complete aspiration

• Must max parenting and piano skill

• Must divorce once and not remarry

Gen 2: Aphrodite

Goddess of love and beauty. You grew up with all the love you needed. But you crave a different kind of love, a love that sets your whole body on fire. You like to party and are not ashamed of your body, you love yourself and are all about positivity. You are also a super passionate woman, which causes you to fall in love quickly. But sadly also out, as you get bored with a lot of people. Until you meet that one person. You would do anything to be with that person. The only problem is that you're already in an relationship... Well at least you have inspiration for your next romance novel.

• Traits: Romantic, Self assured, Art lover

• Aspiration: Soulmate

• Kids: at least one (Hera)

• Must have an affair with someone who will be parent to Hera.

• Must complete aspiration

• Must max charisma and writing skill

• Can marry soulmate as an elder

Gen 3: Hera

Goddess of mariages, goddesses and women. Despite what your mother always said about marriage being about love, you know better: marriage is an economic preposition. It will help you make or it will destroy you. And you will make it. No matter what. When you marry that is what you expect. But your husband does not seem to have the same view on the world. He has all these affairs and illigemate children all over the world, and altough you try and tell yourself that it doesn't matter, you get jealous and hurt. The only person you can rely on is yourself and that becomes painfully clear.

• Traits: Hotheaded, Jealous, Ambitious

• Aspiration: World famous (or mansion baroness)

• Kids: Demeter, Hermes

• Must max all toddler skills

• Must max actress career.

• Must divorce once an elder

• Must max acting skill and aspiration

Gen 4: Demeter

Goddess of agriculture, fertility, law and harvest. Growing up you hated the way your mother was so strict. You wanted to be free and dance in the rain. You've always loved farms and nature, so when you are grown up you want to plant. Sadly, your mother does not agree with your view on the world. Well, you were never like your strict brother Hermes anyways. You will live your life. A happy and free life.

• Traits: Loves outdoors, Bro, Vegetarian

• Aspiration: Freelance Botanist

• Kids: Antheia (Flowers and swamps), Persephone, Iris (Rainbow)

• Must leave home immediately when turning young adult and start at a 0 simoleons budget, building your way up.

• Cannot have a fulltime job

• Must have at least 2 kids before adulthood

• Must marry for love (finally hahaha)

• Must have a cat

• Must complete aspiration

• Be wholesome

Gen 5: Persephone

Goddess of spring and queen of the underworld. You grew up in a very happy environment. You loved playing with your sisters and running trough your garden. You have a great relationship with your family. You see the world a little different from other people. You see light even in the darkest places. So when you meet your soulmate, you can see through their darkness to the light inside, even though others might not see that. Especially your mom, who you know wants the best for you, but is wrong when talking about your soulmate. You know you two can be happy.

• Traits: Cheerful, Dancemachine, Outgoing

• Aspiration: Musical Genius

• Kids: Nyx, Elpis (hope)

• Must elope with someone with a dark or lonely personality (Evil, loner, kleptomanic) or vampire when quite young

• Must max photography and violin skill

• Must complete aspiration

• Must move far from family with partner

• Cannot see family in winter

Gen 6: Nyx

Goddess of the night. Growing up you were always a little different from your mother and sister, who are both sunny people. You're more like your other parent, like the night. You constantly feel overshadowed by the almost over the top energy of your sister. It's not that you don't love her, she's just a little... much. You are not as interested in nature as the rest of your family. You are more of a technical sim. You like things that you have a little more control over.

• Traits: Genius, Gloomy, Materialistic

• Aspiration: Computer Whiz

• Kids: Mania,

• Must max Rocket Science and Robotics skill

• Must go to university

• Must have a bad relationship with sister, but can make up as elder

• Must have a bad relationship with daughter due to focus on career

Gen 7: Mania

Goddess of insanity, madness, crzed frenzy and the dead. With your mother away so much you got lost in your mind as a child. Now you're a teen you're.. well... a little different. While your mother was always so into her science, you can't help but wonder for other things. More magical perhaps? Something a little more exciting. Something to conquer the world. You have the power. You can change the world. Some say you're a little crazy. But what is wrong with a little fun?

• Traits: Erratic, Creative, Slob

• Aspiration: Spellcraft and Sorcery

• Kids: Thetis

• Must become a spellcaster

• Must master all mischief spells

• Must complete aspiration

• Can only have a good relationship with 2 sims

• Hates at least 7 sims

• But despite her flaws a genius at potions and spells and must get spellcaster rank 5

• Must raise someone from death

Gen 8: Thetis

Sea Nymph. You never had so much with magic. You saw what it did to your mother and you're not that interested. That's why you never really use it. Not even to repair stuff. With all the chaos in your youth you long for a calm life. So you move to sulani when you're a late-teen. You've heard it is a beautiful place and you want to do some good for the world because your mother caused so much harm. And it doesn't disappoint. You seem to have gotten the attention of the islanders. You have many flings, but most people don't seem to want to take it any further with you.

• Traits: Neat, Child of the Islands, Outgoing

• Aspiration: Beach life

• Kids: Athena, Harmonia (harmony)

• Must complete aspiration

• Must max the conservationist carreer

• Must max handiness skill

• Must have at least 5 partners pefore meeting soulmate

• Must marry a mermaid

Gen 9: Athena

Goddess of war, logic and same-sex love. Even though you love Sulani, you want to move to the city. You want to make this a better place like your mother, but then better. You want to become the president of the simworld. Then you will make a real difference. Then you can really make up for the chaos your grandmother, who you've never met, made. You shall fight evil with your words. And if you must, fists. But only if you must.

• Traits: Active, Genius, Ambitious

• Aspiration: Renaissance sim

• Kids: Artemis and Nike (Speed, victory)

• Must complete aspiration

• Must max research & debate and Logic skill.

• Must max the politics or millitary career

• Must go to uni

• Must fall in love with a female presenting sim

• Can only have 1 romantic relationship in whole life

Gen 10: Artemis

Goddess of women, the hunt, childbirth and virginity. You love everything about life. Especially nature and people. You fight for what you think is right and have a big friendgroup. You make sure to check up on your family and friends. You are very passionate about womens rights. You love to watch the stars and think life is the greatest gift. That's why you became a doctor. You want to help people, and especially people giving birth.

• Traits: Doglover, Active, Dance machine

• Aspiration: Bodybuilder/Outdoor entusiast

• Kids: Semele (Moon), Astraea (Star)

• Cannot try for baby or woohoo

• Can adopt kid(s)

• Must max fishing and dancing skill

• Must have a dog

• Must complete aspiration

• Must go camping at least twice

• Have a big friendgroup

• Must become a doctor

[daddyjackfrost]

HI! okay, this is chapter 1 (prologue) of a book i am in the *process* of writing.

if you’ve seen my previous posts named “The Gods- small drabble...” those small pieces are from THIS book.

at the moment, the book is called ‘Loving Khaos’ and it is based around Greek Mythology, intertwined with the idea of soulmates. 

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @demigod-groupchat @soliavenne @mayplesyrup

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A very long time ago...

     Zeus hated many things, but one that stood out the most, was unpredictability. Zeus hated not knowing something, and he hated what he did not know. The ability to always have control, always know, was something the God fed off of. Zeus did not know when the hunger for power and control invaded his entire being, but he always felt starved. When the Gods appointed Zeus as their King, he promised himself one thing.

May I never be like my father.

And for a while, Zeus kept his promise.

Power became something that Zeus fed on, besides Ambrosia, it was the only thing that kept his growing hunger at bay. Zeus made sure that nothing happened without his consent, at least on Olympus.

He could not control his brothers.

As Zeus sat on his gold throne styled with bright jewels, the biggest in the room, and right in the center, he could not help but feel the unpredictability in the air. Something was coming, Zeus knew that. He, however, did not know that is was not a thing, but a who, and they were going to change the world.

The world Zeus worked very hard to control.

Putting his fingers to his temple, Zeus rubbed his head. He hated thinking. It took a large amount of effort and Zeus preferred to let others think for him, while all he had to do was give permission.

The air in the throne room smelled of agitation, and it was the first thing his wife, Hera, acknowledged as she waltzed into the room.

"My dear husband, you have spoiled the sweet smell of us into the smell of agitation and anger."

Zeus only grunted as a response. He watched his wife as she roamed the room. She had chosen to take the appeal as Zeus's latest conquest. Zeus's face betrayed him as a small smirk made a way to his face as he recalled Hera's fury after a night with one of his many Soulmates.

Zeus was sure that at one point he truly did love Hera, he felt something for his wife but it varied depending on the situation. Zeus remembered Aphrodite sitting him down after one of Hera's many outbursts.

"Are you not able to show the love you show countless bodies to your wife?"

At the time Zeus waved her off, dismissing her counseling. Now, as he watched his wife, he wished he felt something other than annoyance.

The air began to feel cold and Hera let out a hesitant breath, "Zeus?"

Zeus could feel the chill in the air, it became colder and he let out a ragged breath.

"My dear, please ring the bell. I want all the Gods here, now," Hera nodded and Zeus continued, "Hades as well."

Hera quickly left the room and the sound of a bell, a very loud ear-shattering bell that only reached the ears of Gods, reached his ears.

Instantly, Ares appeared. He let out a loud groan of frustration, "What is this about? I was in the middle of something."

Zeus let out a short laugh as he took in his son's appearance, "Yes, I see that Ares. Have you not been with many women these past days?"

Ares let out a booming laugh, "Just following your footsteps, Father."

In the midst of their conversation, Hermes and Dionysos appeared. Hermes had his favourite outfit on, his Hawaiian shirt and blue shorts, while Dionysos had a glass of wine in his hand and tiredness in his step.

Both Gods glanced at each other, shrugged, then went to sit on their respective thrones.

Zeus watched as Athena and Artemis appeared together. Athena had her recent favorite book in her hand with her sacred owl perched on her shoulder and Artemis had her weapon strapped to her back with disheveled clothes.

Artemis threw her father an annoyed glance. "What is this about Father? I had important business to tend to."

Zeus held up his hand. "Patience."

The seven Gods waited for the others to arrive.

There was a shift in the air and it started to smell of the sea, in an instant, Poseidon appeared with his trident and a large smirk on his lips.  Poseidon's eyes swept through the room and his lips tugged downwards.

"Brother. I was busy with my wife. What is the meaning of this?"

Poseidon stared at Zeus and Zeus stared back. There had always been a power pull between the two brothers.

Hera broke their stare off, "Sit Poseidon. All in due time."

Poseidon nodded at his sister and sat on the throne to the left of Zeus, while Hera occupied the one to his right.

Next, Aphrodite and Hephaestus appeared, both with frowns. Though, Aphrodite made it look seductive while Hephaestus did not.

Aphrodite brushed past her husband and made her way to her throne, unconsciously swaying her hips, which only delighted Ares and annoyed Hephaestus.

Hephaestus watched as Aphrodite gave Ares a sultry smile, while Ares leaned back on his throne and let out a wild grin. Hephaestus felt his anger rise, as it always did when his wife and brother could not at least try and hide their affair.

Hephaestus wiped his hand on his black jeans and swept his eyes across the room. When he noticed his fathers frown he spoke up.

"Whose mess are we fixing today, Father?"

Poseidon let out a breathy chuckle and Hermes shook his head in amusement. Zeus, however, was not as amused.

"Sit son, and you shall find out."

Hephaestus received the message and made his way to his black throne, made purely of the gold and metals he treasured.

Hephaestus and Athena had re-designed the thrones half a century ago, and they were the best design and built yet.

Soon, the smell of wheat graced the room. Demeter appeared in her signature yellow dress, grumbling about farmers.

Dionysus watched his mother with amused eyes, he had spent his 'morning' listening to her rambles and knew exactly what she was grumbling about.

Poseidon watched her with heated eyes, his eyes roaming up and down the body he had seen so many times. Though she was beautiful in her human form, Poseidon always managed to imagine her in horse form, which only grew his hunger for her.

Zeus watched Demeter as well, much to Hera's dismay. The God had tried to marry his other sister, except Demeter refused.

Demeter smiled at Dionysus and Hermes. They visited her often and enjoyed the goddess's company. Demeter avoided Poseidon and Zeus's eyes. Though their tainted past had happened millennials ago, the pain and anger were fresh.

Quickly followed by Demeter, her sister, and the oldest of the six gods, Hestia appeared.

Hestia in many ways was the most valued Olympian. She was quiet, calm, and collected. All the things the rest of the Olympians were not. Though she was the eldest, and most times, wisest, she was often treated with indifference.

Hestia wore a traditional white cloth dress that flowed below her feet. She walked to her throne gracefully, giving Athena a small smile.

The Gods waited, they were missing two. After a moment of silence, Zeus turned to Artemis and asked her, "Where is Apollo?"

Artemis shrugged and in return, Zeus's frown turned into a scowl. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find Apollo's whereabouts, but came up short. "Sorry Father, I do not know."

Before Zeus could answer her, a chill of cold air spread across the room. The once bright room visibly darkened and Hera shivered.

A cloud of black smoke formed in the center of the room and slowly spread across the floor, reaching the feet of the Gods.

The air was tenses and Demeter gripped her throne, feeling the light she carried seep out of her. The only God who felt at ease was Hephaestus. The God of Blacksmiths often spent time in the Underworld, being in company with one of the only Gods who truly appreciated him.

Hephaestus let out a small sinister smile as his wife curled her toes and let out a frown. Ares clenched his fists as his deadly stare was targeted at the clouds. Every other God in the room felt uneasy, except Hestia, once she realized who it was.

Zeus cleared his throat and rolled his eyes, "Hades, that's enough."

The black clouds disappeared and a grinning Hades emerged, wearing a black suit and his dark crown. His eyes swept over the room, taking in the expressions of his fellow Gods, and let out an eerie grin.

"My, my, my. This is quite a surprise, yes," He tsked, "And here I thought you all would be excited to see me."

All the Gods let out a breath they were holding, Athena even let out a small breathy laugh. Hermes grinned at his uncle. "Quite the entrance, Uncle. You had some of us shaking in our thrones."

Hades's dark eyes twinkled, "It's not every day that I get to leave the Underworld, and on request from my dear brother too."

Zeus felt Hades's hostility but said nothing of it, Hades was right in a sense.

"Brother," Zeus called out to the dark God. "Take a seat. We're waiting on one more."

Hades had his arms behind his back, confidently walking to the throne specifically designed for him. It was a pity really, such a beautiful dark throne used so rarely.

Hades's eyes swept the throne room once again, taking in the harsh light and the light that emerged from the room and the Gods themselves. There was a reason Hades ever so rarely left his domain, he was not always welcomed, and he hated everything above the ground.

Millenials of darkness and solitude did no justice to the resentment he held for his brothers and the living. Hades initially wanted to bring some soldiers with him, except the message he received from Hera piqued his interest and decided today was not a good day to put on a show.

The thirteen Gods sat in silence, Zeus's anger and frustration was growing, Apollo was rarely ever not on time. Athena had opened her mouth to speak when the doors of the throne room burst open, catching the attention of all the Gods.

Apollo stood, wide-eyed, and out of breath as he took in the power of the room. The Gods watched as Apollo held onto his oracle, Delphi. The Gods all watched in anticipation as Apollo brought Delphi to the center of the throne room.

Delphi was known to be beautiful, but years of wisdom and truth wore her down. Hermes was surprised at the current state of the oracle. He was the last God, besides Apollo, to have visited her. Even that was centuries ago.

Her hair was no longer golden, but a murky white. Her once porcelain sun-glazed skin was now sickly looking, and her eyes were the most disturbing of all. They used to be as blue as Poseidon's seas, now they were white. Dull and tortured, just as she was.

Apollo whispered reassuring words to the Oracle, while Zeus assessed the situation. He felt uneasy. Apollo bringing the Oracle could only mean one thing, and for once, Zeus felt a prickling of fear. The last prophecy the Oracle had given was many centuries ago.

Zeus cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the room. "Apollo, What is going on?"

The Sun God frowned. He did not want to explain the events that led up to this conversation. He did not know how to mention the screams Delphi had been releasing or the eyes of the Fates that warned him at her cave. Instead, he chose to say the dreaded words he wished never to say again,

"Delphi has felt another prophecy. She called to me as soon as she received it."

And just like that, the peace that had developed not only in the room but between the divine beings disappeared.

Dread was powerful, but fear was intoxicating, and at the moment, it was all the Gods felt.

Zeus's eyes had turned into cold slits, his jaw was hard and raw fury rested behind his calm persona. Hera had her wide eyes on her husband, waiting for his command.

Zeus glared at the Oracle, who kept her eyes on the floor.

"Oracle," Apollo tensed at his Father's tone and brought Delphi closer to him. "Are you absolutely certain?"

Apollo resisted the urge to scoff at his Father, "Yes, Father. I can feel it myself."

Zeus shifted his hard glare on his son. "Not you, let her speak."

Apollo squeezed Delphi's arm reassuringly, and Delphi smiled. She looked up and met Zeus's glare. Zeus's eyes faltered and his glare turned into a pointed look. It was not the girl's fault, Zeus had to remember that.

"Indeed, my Lord. I have felt the stir for quite some time. It was not until Clotho visited me that I realized what was to come. The end is near, oh yes, it will come and we will all burn!"

Delphi had mumbled the last part, but every God had heard her and felt unease settle in. Though time had taken an effect on the Oracle, she had never been wrong. Dionysos and Demeter shared a look, if The Fates had been involved, trouble would rise.

Athena sat up and leaned forward. "What end, Delphi? What is coming?"

Delphi violently shook her head, "Darkness approaches, say goodbye to your sun, we shall burn."

The Oracle repeated those words like a mantra, turning the air colder. Zeus let out a scowl, he loathed prophecy.

"What do you mean, Delphi? Speak, or die."

Zeus had enough. Time was being wasted and he did not trust the Oracle, who seemed too lost in her own mind.

Apollo glared at his Father. Delphi was his Oracle, and he'll be damned before he lets anyone disrespect her.

"Father, be patient—"

Apollo was cut off by the girl in his arms.

Delphi began to shake and glow a bright red, her once dead hair and eyes turned red and pure power seeped out of her. Apollo took a step back giving her space. The Gods all watched in suspense as the Power of Prophecy took over the girl.

Delphi's once white eyes burned a deep red, calling onto the power of previous Oracles.

Delphi started to speak, in a voice that was not her own. It was raspy, old, ancient, and almost teasing,

"He as old as time,

Believes all shall be fine

When his kids are put in graves.

Beyond heaven and hell, he shall raise.

Masked love shall be revealed,

to storm or fire, she'll yield.

As she walks, the earth shakes

Born for a life of misery and ache.

Timeless beings afraid of their wake.

Disobedience to the queen you shall forsake,

For when two hearts become whole,

The world shall end as they control."

As soon as the last words were spoken, Delphi collapsed in Apollo's arms. Her head rested against his shoulder and he rubbed her arms gently, mortified at what had escaped her mouth.

No one spoke, for who could defy a prophecy?

Zeus's stormy eyes were set on the Oracle. Many thoughts ran through his head.

All the Gods had been thinking the same things, Who was 'he'? And who was the 'she'?

Most importantly, Zeus thought, was the last part of the prophecy.

No God spoke, for who could explain the words of prophecy?

Hestia, who had been quiet throughout everything, stood up. Tearing apart the fragile quietness of the air. She walked towards the Oracle and bent down, pressing two fingers to the Oracle's temple, causing the weakened being too slip into unconsciousness. She stood with grace and faced the Gods, eyes filled with ambiguity and gentleness.

"My dear Gods, I do believe we have been told the end of our era."

Hestia smiled, as thunder boomed in the sky, water crashed among the sands, and darkness crept into all their hearts.

It would finally be over, Hestia thought.

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daddyjackfrost © 2021 | all content belongs to me, do not modify

[goddessdoeswitchery]

Hellenic Polytheism 101: Hymns, Epithets, and Prayers A Transcript

Hello and welcome to today’s episode of Hellenic Polytheism 101, where we will be discussing hymns, prayers, and epithets. I’ve found that a lot of Hellenic polytheists tend to struggle with prayers, with hymns, and with understanding epithets. It’s incredibly common to go into any forum dealing with an introduction to Hellenic Polytheism and see example prayers, templates for prayers, or see a button saying something along the lines of “prayer requests here”. This button is not often used in the way you traditionally think of prayer requests, as way to request prayer for someone in support of something going on; instead, it’s used to request that the writer write a particular prayer to use in every day practice. An example would be, “Can I get a prayer to Apollo for good luck in my band try-out?” Prayers can be hard. We always wind up feeling like we’re being judged, like it’s not good enough, like it should be better. So, here’s a guideline on that, on how I started writing my own prayers, to try to combat that feeling.

I want to start out with epithets, mainly because they are an important part of writing prayers and hymns. An epithet is a title, meant to indicate exactly what domain of what deity you are calling to. Again, I’m going use Hermes as an example because if there’s one deity that you want to be clear with, it’s definitely the god of trickery. Hermes has a bunch of epithets, Keeper of Flocks, of the marketplace, of crafts, or wiles, of games, interpreter, Slayer of argos, son of maia, messenger, trickster, leader of thieves, giver of joy, luck bringer, giver of good things. Hermes is all of those things, at once. However, if you’re wanting luck and decent sales at the farmer’s market, you probably don’t want the leader of thieves to be by your side. Epithets help with prayers because they can help narrow the focus of the prayer. Every deity in Hellenic polytheism has more than one side and more than one domain. Sometimes, those domains can be conflicting, in a way, like with Hermes being god of the marketplace and god of thieves.

Epithets also help with the signing of the praises and the worship of the deity in question. Remember how I said one of Hermes’ epithets was “Slayer of Argos?” That calls back to the time when Hermes, using his wiles, slayed Argos as Argos watched over Io for Hera, to keep Io away from Zeus. When I pray to honey tongued Hermes, Son of Maia, Slayer of Argos, luck bringer, for help in reaching my marketing goals for the month for at work, each epithet has a purpose. Son of Maia and slayer of Argos is how I say “I know who you are, I respect you, I know what you’ve done, I know your greatness and I’m showing you the deference and respect you deserve because of these things which you are”. Every deity has epithets which are less about their domain and more about their greatness as a deity. Foam born, golden Aphrodite. Chaste Artemis, daughter of Leto. By using those epithets, you’re calling to their greatness.

Now, you’ll notice that in that little example I gave with Hermes, I used the epithet “honey tongued”. This isn’t, to my knowledge, an epithet that was used by Homer or any of the cults of Hermes. That’s because another fun thing about epithets is that you can make your own. I’ve seen some fun ones, like Aphrodite of the perfectly shaped buttocks, or Hestia of the perfectly cooked dinner. They can be fun, amusing, small things that you credit the Theoi with. They can also be more serious things. Artemis of the well placed shot. Demeter of a mother’s grief. It’s not only acceptable, but encouraged to come up with your own epithets.

Once you’ve settled on, or created, the epithets you want to use, it can help to look at hymns. Pretty much every Hellenic polytheist knows of Homeric hymns. Now, these hymns may have been created by Homer, of the Odyssey and Iliad, but they’re called Homeric Hymns because they’re written in the same meter as the Iliad and Odyssey. There are also the Orphic hymns, if you’re looking for hymns with historical use. And there are many, many hymns written by modern worshippers. Now, a lot of people have asked “What’s the difference between a hymn and a prayer?” Hymns like the Homeric hymns were often sung out in public. There’s a reason so many of them start with “I sing of” or “I tell of” or “I speak of”. They were performance pieces. They were used in competitions and in rituals and in public places. A lot of the modernly created hymns serve the same purpose. They’re used for public worship (in a way) and often serve to sing of the praises of our deities. When we put them out there for others to see, it’s saying “Hey, look at how amazing Apollo is!” When we use them in private worship, its saying to the Theoi “Look at how incredible Apollo is! Hear all the wonderful things he’s done! I just love him so much!”

But a prayer is more…..focused. Yes, prayers can be used to worship. They can also be used to request something, or thank the Theoi. They’re a little bit more flexible. Sometimes a prayer is to one specific Theoi. Sometimes, it’s to many of them. I’ve never seen one to all of them by name, probably because no one has that kind of time, but I have seen prayers addressed to “The Theoi” in general. About 4 years ago, when I still worked on overnights, I wrote the following prayer:

Artemis, great huntress, protector of women and children alike, thank you for your protection over me and mine during this night.

Apollo, musician, without your gifts of music, I would be lost all night. Thank you for the songs and playlists, and the strength and inspiration they give me.

Hephaestus, inventor, without your mind and your creations, my life would be much harder. Thank you for the many things I take for granted.

Hera, queen of the heavens, shining goddess, thank you for the strength you bring me and the peace you bring my relationships.

Zeus, bringer of justice, King of all, thank you for the opportunities you bring me to enact what justice I can on those around me.

Athena, of wisdom, glorious goddess whose mind never fails, thank you for helping me keep my mind and helping me find creative ways to do better. Without you, I would be lost.

Demeter, goddess of the harvest, I cannot sing your praises enough, nor can I thank you enough for the food that graces my family and feeds us all. Thank you, for always ensuring we are well fed.

Hestia, who protects and guides the home and those in it, praise be to you. I have a home and loved ones inside. I am blessed by you, glorious goddess, compassionate one.

Poseidon, ruler of the seas, shaker of the earth, father of horses, thank you for your protection over your realm which allows us to travel on it and get the supplies we need. Glory be, ruler of the ocean.

Ares, warrior and raging god, whose wrath is feared and well known, thank you for guiding me in my rage to use it to the best advantage.

Dionysus, who knows a good time and who knows the value of being free to be yourself, thank you for your guidance and the freedom you give me to be me.

Aphrodite, passionate one, lovely goddess who shines above all, revered beauty, goddess of love, thank you for the love you bring me every day. Thank you for the one I love who loves me in return. Thank you for guiding us to each other, bringing us happiness and joy.

Hermes, trickster, great messenger, merchant and traveler, who watches over all who appear at my job and who keeps my family and loved ones safe from harm, endless thanks to you. Talkative one, who keeps me entertained, and who brings my prayer to the heavens for all the Theoi to hear, I praise you.

Praise be to Theoi, who do so much to guide, protect, inspire, and care for humanity and those I love every day

Notice, I didn’t use any specific, historical epithets. This was a prayer specifically for the Olympians. Not every prayer has to be, but in this case, I wanted it to be. It was one I said, every morning, for about 2 years, when I got home and lit incense after work, before bed. If I were to write it today, I would obviously adjust it. I would adjust the bits about my job because it has changed. I’m not the person I was before. And that’s okay! Prayers can change. I’ve heard from a lot of people who have used that prayer as a template for their own. Every worshipper is different and so your prayers will be unique to you and your experiences.

They also don’t have to be that long. A lot of mine are not that long. “Fleet footed Hermes, guide, luck bringer, help me get to work on time, please and thank you!” is a prayer that is said with some regularity in my car, my fingers clutching the prayer beds hanging on my gear shift, because I once again got out of the house a little later than I should have. At meal times, my prayer goes “ Thank you, Great mother Demeter, whose bountiful harvests provided me with this food.” “Hades, bringer of wealth, careful planner, help this check stretch as far as it needs to” is one I’ve said more than once. “Lovely Aphrodite, glorious goddess of love, swift footed Hermes, messenger, traveler of great distances, help us find the time to meet” is a prayer I’ve used to ask for more time to spend with my girlfriend, as we both have busy schedules and live like an hour and half away from each other.

I know it can feel hard sometimes, to come up with a prayer that can meet the scrutiny of a deity who has been around forever. It can be harder to come up with one that meets the scrutiny of the internet. When you’re writing down a prayer in a devotional journal, its hard to find one that feels like it’s up to the challenge of being in there, forever. But we shouldn’t be afraid to pray, to sing out a hymn, to use a unique epithet we created. I’ve been a Hellenic polytheist for over a decade. There are a lot of prayers and hymns and epithets that I’ve looked back on and went “eesh” and stepped far away from, never to use them again. But it’s never stopped me from trying. And that’s really the lesson I want to leave you with today. Start trying, and don’t stop. Your prayers do not have to be perfect to be prayers.

So thank you for listening to today’s episode of Hellenic polytheism 101. Once again, if you want to find a transcript of today’s podcast, go to goddessdoeswitchery.com and check out the tags transcript or transcripts (plural). Along with the transcript, you’ll find a link to the sources I used today, which are the epithets section of Theoi.com pages for Aphrodite, Hermes,  and Artemis. Otherwise, it’s all just general knowledge I picked up who knows how long ago from books and blog posts whose titles I’ve long forgotten. The last episode of this year will be on December 27th and will be focused on how to create your own calendar for worship, including religious holidays like Noumenia. I look forward to seeing you all then.

[freyar0se]

 Greek Goddess of Wisdom and War

Athena, also referred to as Athene, is a very important goddess of many things. She is goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, civilization, law and justice, strategic warfare, mathematics, strength, strategy, the arts, crafts, and skill.

She is known most specifically for her strategic skill in warfare and is often portrayed as companion of heroes and is the patron goddess of heroic endeavour.

Athena was born from zeus after he experienced an enormous headache and she sprang fully grown and in armour from his forehead. She has no mother but one of the most commonly cited stories is that Zeus lay with Metis, the goddess of crafty thought and wisdom, and then swallowed her whole as he feared she will give birth to a child more powerful than him because of a prophecy – but she had already conceived.

She was Zeus’s favourite child.

She is referred to in poetry as “gray-eyed.”

The owl was her bird, and the olive tree was hers.

She turned the weaver Arachne into a spider after the mortal woman insulted Athena and the Olympian gods.

Hermes and Athena went to the aid of Perseus in his quest to slay medusa. Looking directly at medusa would turn any man to stone, so Athena provided Perseus with her polished shield. Using it, he was able to see Medusa as if looking in a mirror. Again, Athena guided his hand as he cut off Medusa’s head with his sword. 

Greek Goddess of the Hunt, Forests and Hills, the Moon, Archery

Artemis is known as the goddess of the hunt and is one of the most respected of all the ancient Greek deities. It is thought that her name, and even the goddess herself, may even be pre-Greek. She was the daughter of zeus, king of the gods, and the Titans Leto and she has a twin brother, the god APOLLO.

Not only was Artemis the goddess of the hunt, she was also known as the goddess of wild animals, wilderness, childbirth and virginity. Also, she was protector of young children and was know to bring and relieve disease in women. In literature and art she was depicted as a huntress carrying a bow and arrow. Artemis ( like Athena ) was a virgin and drew the attention and interest of many gods and men. However, it was only her hunting companion, Orion, that won her heart. It is believed that Orion was accidentally killed either by Artemis herself or by Gaia, the primordial goddess of the earth. In one version of the stories of Adonis – who was a late addition to Greek mythology during the Hellenistic period – Artemis sent a wild boar to kill Adonis after he continued to boast that he was a far greater hunter than her.

Artemis was daughter of Zeus and Leto and twin sister of Apollo.

She was primarily a virgin huntress, goddess of wildlife and patroness of hunters.

The bear was sacred to her.

She guarded her virginity carefully. Actaeon and Orion tried to dishonor or rape her, but anyone who threatened her purity met with a violent end.

She was an important goddess in the lives of women, especially when it came to marriage and young creatures.

When one of her nymphs was seduced by Zeus, Artemis transformed her into a bear and then killed her.

She was sometimes associated with the goddess of the moon.

Artemis acted out in anger whenever her wishes were disobeyed, especially if anyone transgressed against the animals that were sacred to her.

She punished Agamemnon, for example, when he killed a stag in her sacred grove.

Artemis appealed to Zeus to grant her eternal virginity.

Apollo and Artemis teamed up to kill the children of Niobe. Niobe bragged that she had birthed more children than Leto (the mother of Apollo and Artemis). The twins then hunted her children and killed them with their bows and arrows.

Artemis was worshipped widely in Greece but only as a secondary deity.

A temple built in her honor became one of the “Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.”

At least two festivals were celebrated in her honor of Artemis: Brauronia and the festival of Artemis Orthia.

Homer referred to her as a mistress of wild animals.

Artemis spent most of her time roaming the forests with her nymphs. She was described as both hunting animals and protecting them.

She armed herself with a bow and arrows made by Hephaestus and Cyclops.

In art, Artemis is often accompanied by a stag or hunting dog.

She is the protector of chastity and a nurturer of the young.

Greek God of the Dead and King of the Underworld

Hades was the god of the underworld and the name eventually came to also describe the home of the dead as well. He was the oldest male child of Cronus and Rhea.

Hades and his brothers zeus and Poseidon defeated their father and the titans  to end their reign, claiming rulership over the cosmos. They agreed to split their rule with Zeus becoming god of the skies, Poseidon god of the sea and Hades god of the underworld.

He was later known to the Greeks as Plouton, which the romans pluralized to Pluto. The god of the underworld was married to persephone, the daughter of Demeter, whom he obtained through deception after abducting her to the underworld and giving her the forbidden fruit pomegranate, forcing her to remain in the underworld with him for one third of each year.

Facts about Hades - 

Hades is best known as the ruler of the underworld. It became his dominion after he and his brothers drew lots for their share of the universe.

According to Iliad, Hades’ dominion lies between secret places of the earth. According to the Odyssey, one must cross Ocean to get there.

Though Hades supervised the dead assigned to his realm, he was not one of its judges. Three demi-gods served that purpose instead.

Hades was depicted as stern and unyielding, unmoved by prayer and sacrifice.

Hades had a cap or helmet that made its wearer invisible.

His wife was Persephone, Demeter’s only daughter, whom he kidnapped and made his queen.

He was also called the God of Wealth or “the rich one” because he possessed the precious metals of the earth.

Pirithoüs, friend of Theseus, detrmined to have Persephone (the most carefully guarded lady in all the universe) as his bride. To this end, the two friends journeyed to the underworld, but Hades thwarted their plan. He invited them to sit on the Chair of Forgetfulness, which cause its occupant to forget everything. Hercules rescued Theseus , but the King of the Dead held Pirithous there for trying to steal his queen.

Cerberus was a three-headed dog who guarded his realm; the ferryman Charon was another one of the underworld’s attendees.

Though Hades is the King of the Dead, he should not be confused with Death itself, which is personified by Thanatos.

Cronus and Rhea were his parents.

Poseidon and Zeus were his brothers.

Hades rarely left the underworld. His presence was not welcomed by men or by gods.

Hades took pride in collecting “subjects” for his kingdom and was disinclined to let anyone leave.

His dominion was separated from the land of the living by the following rivers: Styx, Lethe, Acheron, Phlegethon, and Cocytus.

Hades employed the Furies, who were responsible for torturing the guilty.

Hades is described by some sources as the god of the earth’s fertility.

The narcissus and the cypress are sacred to him.

In his kingdom, Hades sat on a throne made of ebony and carried a scepter.

Hades was known for his involvement with Sisyphus, the man condemned to the underworld to forever roll a boulder uphill. According to legend, Hades allowed  sisyphus to return to earth long enough to arrange his own funeral.

[flambazz]

Pantheons: Hermes

Author: Balsam

History: Ancient Mediterranean; Greek Pantheon

Which god in the Greek pantheon do you see the most of in your everyday life? If you had anyone who wasn’t Hermes in mind, you’re wrong. You’ll find images of him just about everywhere from his caduceus carved out of the stone of a hospital, to his head being shown on a car’s logo, to his winged sandals painted onto Goodyear tires. He’s literally everywhere. We even have a planet and a heavy metal, both existing under his Roman name Mercury. But who is he, really, in the scheme of pantheons? 

Hermes, known to Rome as Mercury, was the Ancient Greek god of roads/journeys, travelers, merchants, trade/commerce, athletes, thieves, and trickery. His name shows up in Mycenaean scripts like Dionysus’ does, but in the pantheon itself he is rather young. Predominantly, he was recognized as a messenger god, but in a similar sense to Mycenaean Dionysus he was also revered as an underworld god due to being a psychopomp and being responsible for guiding the souls of the dead in addition to being responsible for guiding dreams. In his myths he has a habit of helping out the mortal heroes when they run into issues of some kind. Now, to understand his characterization and historical context, we need to understand where exactly in the realm of Ancient Greek mythology Hermes stands. Let’s get into it.

Hermes is incredibly young in Olympian standards, with Dionysus being the only one canonically younger. Born to the pleiad Maia and the son of Zeus (like just about everyone else), his birthplace is a cave in the mountains of Arcadia. He sets himself apart from other Olympians by getting into trouble literally the day he’s born. According to Homer’s Hymn to Hermes, the first thing to happen after being born was his finding a tortoise and turning its shell into a lyre. He gets hungry and decides the only sane thing to do is steal 50 of Apollo’s sacred cattle, turning their hooves backwards to attempt and prevent Apollo from noticing they’re gone. Stowing the cows, he sacrifices some to the gods and then shows up back in the cave to pretend to be a helpless baby. Maia doesn’t buy his bullsh*t so instead he takes his time and explains to his mom that he’s attempting to get the Olympians to notice him, and that he’s trying to get the respect and honor they deserve instead of being stuck in a cave for the rest of his immortality.

Meanwhile back in Narnia, Apollo can’t find his cows so he plays Sherlock Holmes and finds Hermes back in the cave. While Apollo tries interrogating him, Hermes basically pulls a Miles Morales and says “What cows?” So, Apollo drags him up to Zeus, who’s cackling like a madman and then tells him to show the way to the cows. On the way, Hermes starts playing his lyre and wins Apollo over. Apollo is enchanted by it and promises Hermes will be messenger of the gods, promising he and his mother will be honored among the Olympians. Hermes and Apollo exchange the lyre for the role of herdsman and return to Olympus, where Hermes promises never to steal from him again and gets his caduceus (small staff with two snakes around it; symbol of heralds/messengers). And so, Hermes makes an arrival as a trickster and underdog wrangling an improbable victory via cunning and tricks. One who, despite winning untold power/fame, still comes across as the underdog for multiple centuries following.

Hermes regularly appears in the mythology, playing a support role in the Iliad and the Odyssey. In the Iliad he is allied with the Achaeans for the majority but protects King Priam when he went to the Achaean camp to retrieve Hector’s body, and in the Odyssey he regularly provides help and advice for Odysseus including how to get Circe to break the enchantment on his men and then later guiding the suitor’s souls to the afterlife. This might have been because Odysseus is actually Hermes’ great-grandson (son of Autolycus).  One of Hermes’ most well known accomplishments is killing Argus, a hundred-eyed giant hired to watch over Io after she got turned into a cow. Zeus asks him to free her, so Hermes shows up as a shepherd and bores him asleep with the story of panpipes then cuts his Argus’ off. This is what gave him the epithet of Argeiphontes (slayer of Argus). He’s also got a bunch of other appearances in Greek mythology, frequently helping out heroes like Perseus and Orestes by giving them the means to succeed. This trickery is one of Hermes’ major characteristics as the god of liars, thieves, and the other stuff in his purview. While these seem like things that maybe shouldn’t be attributed to a god, most Greek heroes were underdogs or tricksters in some way and trickery was well respected when used in moderation.

Before we get into the rest of the history, we have one kind of wacky thing about Hermes: The Herms. The Herms were boundary/border markers commonly found along roadways, usually with a depiction of Hermes’ face and always with a carving of a dong on them. I don’t know why that’s what was non-negotiable either but I wish I did. With Hermes being a god of borders and boundaries, it makes sense that he’d be the one to show up on most of the border markers but it’s also a little weird (not because of the dong). So we’re going to shove that into a corner for a bit and get into the history.

First off, Hermes used to be Pan (not pansexual, the god Pan). Let me explain that. Pan is a mysterious figure due to how old he is. Because of his age, we don’t have much clear information on his origin or development. As he was characterized in Ancient Greece, Pan is the god of the wilderness, shepherds and flocks, nature, mountain wilds, fields/groves/glens, sex and fertility, and theatrical critisism. He was a companion to the nymphs, is responsible for panic (as a concept and word), and he’s literally the legendary dong. His worship was almost exclusively in the mountains of Arcadia, which also happens to be the birthplace of Hermes. Arcadia is known for being inland, mountainous and forested, and extremely old compared to the rest of Ancient Greece.

As a wild god, Pan wasn’t worshipped in manmade structures. He was mostly worshipped in natural caves and only ever had two built temples (one in Peloponnese). In the mythology, Pan is older than the Olympians are, and is credited with giving Artemis her hunting dogs and Apollo the gift of prophecy. Most commonly, he is known for two things that bear his name: panpipes (syrinx) and panic (panikos). He created the syrinx when a nymph he was chasing became reeds to try and escape, and then he turned her into the syrinx so he could put his mouth all over her like a weirdo. As for panic (for people who don’t know what it is), it’s a kind of fear that is intense enough it borders madness. He is credited with it as, supposedly, he would yell in the wood and anyone who heard it would be inflicted with said panic, which could rout entire armies. And while we know some stuff about him, there’s even more that we either don’t know or it’s vague and fuzzy. For example, his parentage is incredibly vague and varied, which suggests he’s very old since that kind of myth takes a long time to drift.

In fact, it’s highly likely that Pan is older than even Mycenaean Greece. Comparative mythology scholars that are working on reconstructing Proto-Indo-European religion that spawned from the Vedic, Norse, and Greek mythologies theorize that Pan is an offshoot from the god PÉH2USōN (no I don’t know how to say it), whose only other offshoot is the Vedic pastoral deity Pushan.

The Rigveda mentions Pushan, and may be as old as 1700 BCE. This means that if Pan is an offshoot from the same deity, he also predates Mycenaean Greece (age started in 1600 BCE). However, due to lack of written sources, we don’t actually know how Pan was characterized at any point before the Mycenaean age, but we can learn by proxy by looking at Pushan.

Pushan is the Vedic god of roads/journeys, marriages, cattle herding/feeding, and the sun as a guardian figure. Like Hermes, Pushan also served as a psychopomp, but is associated with goats and got all his teeth knocked out that one time. So, the generally accepted theory we have is that way, way back before or during the Mycenaean age is when Hermes split from Pan, and before even that, the original Pan was incredibly similar to Pushan, a liminal god of navigating between places like roads, general wilderness, and the journey to the afterlife. When the original Pan got subdivided, current Pan retained the pastoralist and herding connotations, but the roads and journeys stuff went to Hermes and left Pan reduced. It’s worth noting that Hermes also has herding connotations. 

Now, this isn’t just based on the fact that Hermes is somewhat similar to a Vedic deity. There are also some other, stranger connections the two have. For one, both of them have an origin in Arcadia along with their centers of worship. In some versions of mythology, Pan is Hermes' son for some reason. Which is a weird connection, but at the same time it does make sense to link them in a reverse way. It’s also surprisingly relevant; Hermes and Pan are both notorious in the mythos for having large dongs (I wish I didn’t have to talk about it but here we are). So, time to go back to the Herms mentioned earlier. 

The word itself translates into “piled stones”. So Hermes’ name isn't even a name. But the concept of Herms is an extremely old concept in the region, older than Ancient Greece and Hermes both. Back before Herms were sculpted, roads were marked with large piles of stones. Lack of human features didn't make them less sacred, though, and Herms were revered. Custom was to put another stone on the pile or to anoint it with oil, and messing with them or defacing them was a horrible thing. Pan, as the old god of roads and journeys, was likely the god who was revered through said Herms. Now, remember how I said Hermes had an epithet because of killing Argus? Well he isn’t the only god who had them, in fact most if not all of them did and they described the capacity a god was worshipped in. In Pan’s case, the one I’m going to mention is ‘Pan Hermes’ (although we aren’t really sure) or ‘Pan of the piled boundary stones’. What we do know is that around the time he likely had this epithet, he got split into current Pan and the god Hermes. This happened at a very early time, and so we aren’t quite sure why Pan got separated from his epithet and Hermes got to be his own god.

What’s likely is that old Pan was a fairly specialized deity and so his worship was having issues expanding beyond rustic areas and wild lands. Whatever the reason, we know Hermes shows up in Mycenaean Linear B writing (or a word like Hermes), meaning he split from Pan before proper records. By the time we get to the 800s, Homer is writing epics and Hermes is firmly seated in the Olympians as is shown by his role in the Iliad and Pan is simply a wilderness god. 

Oh, and for the people well acquainted with Greek Mythological esoterica or the Percy Jackson books; Pan is (technically) canonically dead. According to Plutarch writing from around 100 CE, a handful of decades earlier during the reign of Tiberius, a divine voice supposedly called out from Paksi to a man named Thamus telling him “The Great god Pan is dead.” Thamus then told everyone and they were reasonably bummed out about it. But for every sense that matters, Pan didn’t actually seem to die since his shines were still frequented and worship of him continued as usual. So what the hell? 

Well, it’s likely that this is a big misunderstanding. See, the goddess Ishtar had a dead boyfriend named Tammuz who had a cult that got bright over to Greece. And in the Ancient Greek language, the sentence “Thamus, the Great god Pan is dead” is read as “Thamus panmegas tethneke”, however due to ‘pan’ being both the name of a god and the prefix meaning all, the sentence can also be read as “Tammuz the all-great is dead”. So this whole ‘Pan being dead’ thing might have just been some dude overhearing the cult of Tammuz praising him for his sole achievement and thinking they were talking about the god Pan being dead. So yeah.

Back to Hermes. In early Ancient Greece, Pan and Hermes didn’t look too dissimilar,and between 800 and 500 BCE Hermes was shown as an older man with a beard. But in Classical and Hellenistic Greece, he is shown the way we recognize him now; a young, beardless, mostly naked athlete. Dionysus also underwent a similar change but this isn’t about him. Time to talk about Roman Hermes; Mercury. 

Most Roman and Greek deities started as gods in their own right. Mars, who is Ares’ roman counterpart, started as a god of war and as an agricultural deity and was treated notably better than Ares is. And for the most part Rome’s other gods were also fully-fledged deities, though sometimes other gods got mashed together like play-doh. For example, Pluto (Roman Hades) was accidentally the god of wealth, Plutus, and the god of the underworld, Pluton. But Mercury didn’t even exist. The name has sketchy etymology, but likely comes from either the Latin root for ‘merchant’ or a much older word for ‘boundary’. In either case the name is a descriptor of one of Hermes’ divine duties and nothing farther. He did absorb the Roman Dea Lucrii, a handful of minor deities in charge of immoral profit coming from bad sources, but Mercury was basically just Roman Hermes. 

During the Roman era, Hermes was extremely popular. And since Rome was the expansion kings, Hermes’ status as a trade and merchants god saw a bunch of use. He showed up on coins, imagery of him is in Pompeii, and he has another quirk making him so popular. Rome had a policy of taking and incorporating the gods of places they conquered into their pantheon in one way or another, finding the Roman god closest to whichever god it was and insisting they’re the same. This happened with the Greeks and the Celts where they likened Mercury to Lugh/Lleu who was a big deal seeing as he was the creator of all arts along with being a warrior-hero-king. Rome saw him as a commerce god and so he was equaled to Mercury. And when Rome dealt with the Germanic peoples, Mercury god likened to Odin, of all people. The Ptolemaic Greeks (oh god) equated Hermes with gods like Thoth and Anubis. 

Hermes was all over the place, which is very appropriate, even showing up in Aesop’s fables for some reason. But for being such a versatile deity, why is he so (literally) iconic? We don’t know. Perhaps his mobility and speed resonates with our modern society? Maybe it’s because he’s one of the few of the Olympians to combine likable traits with a lack of distractingly terrible character flaws? Maybe it’s because medicine, communication, and capitalism are central qualities of many societies as well as his character. But his liminal status gets him in most every society and kind of just stays forever, turning up in places centuries later down the line. 

If you read all of this, thank you and please reblog so more people can see and learn!

[clovis-enthusiast]

Lotsa Clovis headcanons that you can pry from my cold dead hands

Keep in mind that these are just MY HEADCANONS! None of this is canon unless specifically stated! Feel free to agree or disagree. I juts rlly love my boy and his cabin and will gush about them for hours if given the chance.

Since there is a lot, I’ll put them under the cut so as not to clutter ur feed with my rambling! So uh click ‘keep reading’ to see me babble about my all time favorite character! Hope u enjoy if u read em and always feel free to send me a message about ur own headcanons! (I’m always thinking of more, so this post might be updated every once in awhile!)

He is very French. He was born in France and lived there for a short while before he and his mother (the reason I say mother instead of parent is because it was hinted at in canon that he has a mother. my go to name for her is Camille) moved to the US due to monster related problems. (He has a French last name. Something like Valois is my go to.)

French is his first language but because he moved to the US when he was quite young, he is very fluent in English. He often switches between the two languages when he’s EXTRA sleepy without noticing leading to a lot of confusion (and you can bet that he DEFINITELY swears in French because not many people at camp can understand him when he does. Those who do have a newfound respect and fear for him.)

He was initially a longtime member of the Hermes cabin even though pretty much everyone could guess who his godly parent was.

Was DEFINITELY a part of Luke’s army at one point due to the fact that he looked up to Luke as the older demigod had always treated him like a little brother, AND his godly brother Morpheus was also on Kronos’s side of the war. However, Clovis did not stay with them for long once things began to get bad and returned to Camp Half Blood with time. (Morpheus and Clovis now have a strained relationship.)

Best friends with Lou Ellen Blackstone of the Hecate cabin. They were both temporarily on Luke’s side of the war and were held with suspicion and distrust when they returned to camp, so they tended to stick by each other while the other campers warmed back up to them. Because of this, they are now very close and are always goofing around (much to the annoyance of the other head counselors aside from the Stolls, of course.)

Definitely had a thing for Nico di Angelo in the past. As the two boys are both the sons of underworld gods, Clovis had already felt a certain tug towards him. When he heard Nico’s story from the camp’s rumor mill (thank Lacy and Mitchell for that one) he became utterly infatuated. Over time, his curiosity turned more into a little crush which then became a BIG crush, but as neither Clovis nor Nico are really all that great with normal human interaction, the son of Hypnos’s flirting techniques sort of went unnoticed. That’s why Nico seems to be the only one being pulled into Clovis’s dreams at any given time despite Clovis being a ‘very strong dreamer.’ The truth is that Clovis has full control over who enters HIS dreamscapes. He tries desperately to impress Nico and help him out wherever he can, but when Nico eventually chooses Will to be his boyfriend, Clovis, though a bit sad that his first crush in a long time didn’t share the feelings, is VERY supportive. He loves to tease Nico about how hopelessly head-over-heels the broody teenager is over his sunshiney boyfriend. And if the two were ever to break up for whatever reason in the future? Well, Clovis is definitely still up for a shot.

Clovis and Nico are still VERY close. Clovis is one of the only people that Nico feels comfortable enough to be himself around and often confides in him whenever his negative thinking gets the best of him. Clovis also plays a big part in Nico regaining the memories of his past when he’s ready which he will forever be thankful for. The two obviously spend a lot of time together in dreams and greet one another in a warm fashion whenever they come across each other by chance at camp. This confuses literally everyone because literally no one has ever seen them interact before?? How are they friends?? 

Has HISTORY with Drew. No one is really sure what kind of history (it seems as if there was a little bit of memory erasure throughout the camp on the situation... hm...) but most people speculate that the two shared a romantic relation at one point in time. Turns out, they were NOT compatible, and the whole thing went up in flames. Drew still holds a huge grudge against Clovis who acts as though he could honestly care less. He still treats her politely though there have definitely been some not-so-subtle nasty looks cast across the campfire towards her direction before.

Also very close with Lacy and Mitchell from the Aphrodite cabin. Lacy feels terrible about Drew’s trash-talking and rumor-spreading and eventually works up the courage to say hi. They became fast friends, and Lacy definitely has a bit of a puppy-dog crush on him, but she is much too young for Clovis. He sees her as a little sister and allows her to put makeup on him, do his hair, and even tries on dresses and such just to make her smile. Mitchell, on the other hand, became friends with Clovis out of spite in all honesty and ended up liking the sleepy blond a lot more than he thought he would. He might have a teeeeeny tiiiiiny crush on him. Don’t tell Lacy.

Close with Pollux of the Dionysus cabin. Pollux sees a lot of Castor when he looks at Clovis which is a huge comfort to him. The two counselors have a lot of deep talks late at night, and Clovis always makes sure that Pollux is sleeping well without being haunted by nightmares. Dionysus would never admit it, but he is very thankful that someone cares that much about his only son.

Good friends with Rachel Elizabeth Dare surprisingly! He helps her out often, and the two like to sit and chat about mythology, artwork, and prophecies in the big house and at the campfire.

Has allies and friends in high places. Due to his powerful dreaming, he’s been to quite a few strange places and met quite a few strange people... or you could call them the gods, I guess. He knows a lot of the gods and goddesses from all kinds of mythologies (though obviously more of the Greek ones than anything) and they seem to like him well enough for some reason. (Probably because he’s one of the only demigods who doesn’t want to strangle them and doesn’t mind listening to them complain about petty godly things.) He often has little chats with them where he keeps them updated with the going ons of Camp Half Blood and they keep him updated about... godly drama. He kinda lives for it tbh. It’s part of the reason why he’s so informed about the gods.(Annabeth is maybe just the tiniest bit jealous.)

He’s a year round camper because it would be much too dangerous for him to go back to living with his mother. He stays in contact with her via dreams, letters, and Iris messages though!

MUCH more powerful than he lets on. He just doesn’t like conflict. 

One of his most frightening abilities is the ability to summon terrible creatures from people’s nightmares and use them to fight. He doesn’t like to do this as it can be very traumatizing for the people he uses it against, AND it’s not always a guarantee that the nightmare creatures will obey him.

His other more battle-ready powers are the ability to put an entire battle field into a deep slumber and memory alteration/erasure. He can use his memory alteration/erasure on monsters of weaker defenses AND demigods (though he feels much more comfortable using it on monsters.) He uses these powers to alter how monsters/enemies perceive demigods. Because of this, there are quite a few friendly hellhounds and scythian dracanae wandering about the camp. All of his powers are VERY draining and take a lot of concentration in order to work as intended. He will often sleep for days after a battle because of this.

He is also capable of fighting whilst asleep. In fact, his senses are heightened, and he tends to perform better this way. He also heals much faster while he is asleep. 

It is speculated that he will either grow wings from his head or his back, but it will not happen until he grows older. It’s a rare trait that few Hypnos kids (and Thanatos kids) develop, but due to Clovis’s power level, everyone is pretty much waiting for it to happen.

He can change his appearance at will in his dreams, but his aura is still the same, so he can still be identified pretty easily by people who know him personally. (As a side note, his eyes pretty much change color on their own to reflect the mood of the dreamscape he’s currently in. Gold, emerald, and violet are the most common colors. His true eye color is blue.)

Doesn’t really care about gender all that much. He has absolutely no problem with people referring to him using any pronouns (she/he/they) and is quite comfortable with himself in general. Many demigods who are questioning their gender comes to talk to him about it, and he’s always open to hearing them out and giving them advice.

VERY bisexual. Likes girls, guys, literally anyone who can keep him awake and interested for more than five seconds.

The unofficial official camp therapist.The role used to belong to Will Solace, but the truth is that the son of Apollo is much more comfortable dealing with physical ailments and problems he can fix medically than he is with dealing with feelings and mental ailments. Clovis is a very good listener despite the popular belief that he’s too busy nodding off to actually hold a conversation with properly and has a very calming aura that helps people feel safe enough to be vulnerable with him.

The go to babysitter of camp. Due to his Hypnos kid vibes, he is able to keep even the most rambunctious demigod and satyr children under control. His nap times are legendary. 

VERY big on respecting people’s privacy and boundaries. He tries his best not to enter any dreams uninvited, and he never talks about what goes on in people’s dreams ever. He also NEVER looks into people’s memories without their permission. He makes sure his siblings follow these guidelines strictly.

He literally lets anyone come into the Hypnos cabin at any time to get a good rest. The cabin has an open door policy.

New campers are often allowed to stay with the Hypnos cabin if they’d rather not face the chaos of the Hermes cabin.

Contrary to popular belief, his cabin is actually NOT the messiest cabin. The Hermes cabin wins that one though they’re followed closely by the Ares and Hephaestus cabins.

He and his siblings are some of the closest in the camp. They meet up and hang out in each other’s dreamscapes and have family nights. Clovis is the oldest AND is a head counselor, so he is very protective and responsible when it comes to his siblings.

Gives AMAZING massages. Leo and the entirety of the Hephaestus and Ares cabins are regular customers. Fight me. 

Actually a very good strategist when it comes to battles and such given that he’s awake enough to actually communicate his ideas. If you get them on your Capture the Team game, you’re already doing good. Annabeth and the Athena cabin love the competition, and they’re nearly unstoppable when they work together with him.

Clovis suffers from TERRIBLE narcolepsy, even for a son of Hypnos. It’s gotten him into a lot of bad and dangerous situations such as falling asleep mid battle, mid conversation, and even in the bath once when he was little. He has developed a fear of heights and water due to his condition.

Holds a lot of frustrations towards himself. Frustrated that he ever turned against the camp that offered him a home, frustrated that he couldn’t help Jason restore his memories, frustrated that couldn’t help more in the war against Gaea, just... frustrated. He tries to sleep off these negative moods because he doesn’t like to bring people down.

Absolutely not opposed to cuddling with people who are okay with it (he always asks first!) It’s a surefire way to get a good night’s rest since you’re so close to him, plus he’s very soft and warm!

Has a good singing voice, but just isn’t confident enough with it. He pushes through his insecurities to sing lullabies to those who really need them though. His lullabies are unmatched. 

Adores cats with all of his heart due to their lazy and relaxed nature, but he knows that he could never be able to care for one well enough. 

ALWAYS wears pajamas. Like all the time. Chiron has given up on enforcing the dress code. He also made sure to have custom made camp bracelets instead of necklaces to be sure that none of the Hypnos kids are choked/strangled by them if they happen to fall asleep in a bad place or position.

Lives in the past. Old movies, old music, old slang, you name it. I mean, he practically sleeps for the majority of his life, so it’s not all that surprising that he’s a bit behind the times. He thinks the modern age moves much too fast for him to keep up with.

The demigods of camp take turns making sure Clovis and his siblings are taking care of themselves. Walking them to the showers and dining pavilion, making sure they get a little sunlight each day, and the bare minimum of training.

He is the best boy.That is the only FACT that I do not accept criticism on. Thank you.