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illegiblewords · 7 months ago

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Almost current in Dawntrail, I make some references to plot stuff under the cut but this post isn't mainly about Dawntrail. This is an analytical rant. There are people who disagree with me that I adore/respect to bits who have done brilliant stuff from angles I wouldn't take. People shouldn’t stop doing what they’re inspired to do according to whether I like or dislike something. This post qualifies less with 'I think' and 'I believe' statements/is a little harsher because I'm venting though. Proceed at your discretion.

Features critical/darker discussions of Venat and Hermes with brief mentions of Zenos.

I really, genuinely think a lot of people are only getting pieces of what's going on in FFXIV.

The story still isn't black and white. Characters very, very often are not what they advertise themselves to be. Neither the cast nor fans are immune to misjudging.

Hermes is not as compassionate as he presents himself. There is an enormous discrepancy between what he professes and the choices he consistently makes, both with regard to other ancients and creations. I do believe he was genuinely miserable but he is basically Satan from Paradise Lost, who wonders why he alone was made unsatisfied with obedience and perfection. Who recognizes there is difference in himself compared to others but is conflicted about whether this is a defect or higher calling. Satan sees himself as inherently 'other' above all else and Hermes is just the same. The shared snake imagery isn't a coincidence either.

Everything I've seen points to Hermes being a narcissist who does not have instinctive empathy in a society where empathy is the most valuable quality a person can have. He strives to have more empathy than all other people without truly understanding what that means. It's why he projects his anger and hatred onto the wolf creation as it dies instead of offering it any kind of comfort. It's why he sends Meteion into space to suffer pain, death, and despair as a high empathy being who challenges all concepts of what it means to be alive… instead of presenting her to the Bureau of the Architect, where her very existence might instigate star-wide reform for how all other creations are handled. For his ego, he needed to be the only one with extensive knowledge of dynamis. He needed to be the only one with answers from on high regarding the nature of life. That was far more important than Meteion's wishes or well-being, and the creations he claims to love are expendable for this purpose. He frequently oscillates between seeing himself as beneath all other ancients and the sole, divinely powerful judge/jury/executioner of all living things. Like Satan from Paradise Lost he can't be grouped with those around him. He can't be just one of many ancients dealing with fears, doubts, despairs. He MUST be exceptional above all else. I'd argue the main reason he accepts the Warrior of Light at all is because we do not appear as a fellow ancient to him--he sees us as a familiar, and therefore inherently without equal authority and agency compared to him. When we are useful to his worldview he uses us and when we aren't we're disposable.

I've seen people claim that Hermes is just anxious and that's why he didn't submit Meteion. You don't opt for genocide and decree all of humanity as immoral and unworthy of mercy without even allowing your targets a voice to answer out of anxiety. You certainly don't do that while having specifically gone out of your way to avoid any steps that might have given room for more charitable judgments. Hermes opted to destroy everyone because it was what he wanted to do, but it didn't fit his self-image as a benevolent and empathetic person to do so. That's why he made a loophole via memory erasure.

Venat, further, is not a hero. She's gray at best and in all likelihood a pretty dark shade of it. Light motifs and crystal mommy themes do not change this. She not only decided, independently, that Hermes' genocide was an appropriate course without allowing anyone else room to discuss or address the issue--she actively denied everyone else knowledge of what happened or even basic information about dynamis (LET ALONE METEION'S LOCATION) so they could deal with the issue effectively. She passed judgment on the entire Convocation because of Hermes' appointment without once judging herself for withholding information on his true character. There is a reason Emet-Selch called her out for being immediately ready to see herself as a morally correct messiah of the star. He wasn't wrong to do so. And especially after Endwalker I think Venat grossly misunderstood not only what led to worlds self-destructing on a philosophical level (never mind Meteion's emotion amplification powers), I think she misread her own star and its people. Pursuit of purity and certainty was what led to the destruction of worlds. The total absence of pain is just one form that can take, but it isn't necessary for a world to be in perpetual agony to avoid that. Venat dismissed the despairs and struggles of her own fellow ancients because there was no room for them in the view she had of herself and her world. If she didn't see them they didn't exist, but even when she did see them they didn't count enough to sway her judgment. Venat had to be the most correct person and she didn't allow even as Hydaelyn the possibility of making mistakes or unwarranted cruelty to others. She is 1000% guilty of 'ancient hubris'.

Venat might be a more middling gray, in my view, depending on whether she'd been trying to shield as many people as possible from tempering with the traveler's ward only for most of the star to become tempered by Zodiark post-summoning. There are a lot of repeating phrases between Elidibus, post-Final Days ancients, and the lunar shades that I think point to mass tempering. Venat would have grounds for assuming people had homogenized views, prayers, and voices if the star was largely tempered. If they weren't, I think she becomes pretty sinister for how she deals with people's post-Final Days trauma. Her injustice toward the ancients in that case would just happen to be in a way that benefits the shards.

The Zodiark plan prevented life from going extinct. It was necessary. Zodiark's tempering and the subsequent sacrifice spiral were not deliberate I suspect, seeing as Zodirk was the first primal EVER. People have been consistently misreading the loporrit quote on this to try and argue that Zodiark didn't temper the Unsundered.

The line states that Venat used a different summoning technique to the one utilized by Ascians. Venat's technique specifically does not temper people. The Ascian method does. If Venat's technique was used to summon an entity of Zodiark's magnitude (whose power could not be resisted according to Emet-Selch) there might be a slight tug toward tempering despite the technique being much safer.

This is not saying Zodiark didn't temper anyone. It's specifically saying that despite Venat having a safe technique, Zodiark's summoning was on such a monumental scale that even Venat's technique would carry some risk.

Meanwhile, Lahabrea has been getting set up for years as someone who has been dehumanized, judged, isolated, and misunderstood. This has continued to increasing degrees through Dawntrail. It has been going on since A Realm Reborn. The sheer consistency of it is insane at this point. There is a HUGE gap between how Lahabrea emotes and what he's actually feeling. His choices reflect this and it is demonstrated firsthand in Pandaemonium.

No one seemed to think it was weird that Lahabrea was ready to commit a pseudo-suicide by killing Hephaistos. No one seemed to catch that the 'pseudo-suicide' in the lyrics to Scream referenced Lahabrea, as did the 'shadow left far behind' line. People contorted themselves into pretzels trying to say that Scream was not about him. Nevermind that Pandaemonium is the Lahabrea raid, in which all other characters were supporting cast to flesh out Lahabrea. It must be mainly about Hegemone and Agdistis! If not them, it must be mainly about Erichthonios!

The man's entire story is about being dehumanized, dismissed, invalidated, and excluded while suffering severe mental illness. It's kind of horrendous that fans are continuing to do this to him on a meta level.

Lahabrea has a long history of Abrahamic imagery. If the Warring Triad mirror the Unsundered, Sephirot as the Tree of Life maps to the Kabbalistic process of creation. The game explicitly and correctly references this in the attacks used. The lyrics to Fiend track for Lahabrea as does the association with Id issues, and there's symbolically significant overlap between muscular/multi-armed Sephirot (where multiple arms reference the boddisatva Guanyin, who uses those many arms to help those in need) to muscular/multi-armed Zodiark as Lahabrea's creation. And Zodiark being Lahabrea's creation is indicated in Akademia Anyder. People have been trying to attribute Zodiark to Hermes because Hermes hijacked him in EW and it drives me nuts.

Meanhwile, what did Pandaemonium do?

Paired the Tree of Life to The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. There's a ton of snake, fruit, and mouth imagery in Pandaemonium. Athena is Eve offering Lahabrea as Adam knowledge of good and evil via the soul bonding. Lahabrea has been afraid of himself as an extremely powerful ancient (which I've analyzed before, tying to Emet-Selch too), particularly given he's in a position of power. He reflects the societal idea that someone with his aetherial strength and authority cannot afford to be selfish or he risks causing immeasurable harm to others. Result is that Lahabrea is absolutely terrified of being selfish in any capacity, even on a basic healthy level. Athena meanwhile is a purely selfish being. Like I believe is the case with Hermes (and am positive is the case with Zenos)--she does not have instinctive empathy. Athena deliberately psychologically violated her husband by forcing him to acknowledge understanding selfish desire through her perspective, then compounded it by exploiting his lack of self-confidence to say he was bound to be just like her for understanding such selfishness. She's not an authority on that, but Lahabrea sees himself as personally less than Athena and is not at that point equipped to argue on his own behalf.

Anyway. Abrahamic connections, Hegemone has the snake imagery. Agdistis has the tree and the fruit. Athena is Eve. The soul bonding is the fruit of knowledge of good and evil. Hephaistos uses a ton of snake imagery too. Lahabrea is covered in symbolism both on a personal psychological level and tied to traditional symbolism via the hand of god acting upon the world, the eye of god watching the world. For savage, one arm is covered in eyes. This is his role as Lahabrea employing power for his people. The other arm, his personal desires/needs, is long and thin and malformed/not really functional. He covers his heart with a pair of wings for protection and reduces himself, weeping, to DNA because that's the only value he sees in himself. He'd rather be that than himself as a person because at least as DNA he's wanted for something. Lahabrea doesn't think anyone would ever give a shit about him on a personal level.

When Hephaistos is defeated, there's a reason Lahabrea is shaken when he states that Hephaistos' goal was never to raise himself high. That was what Athena wanted and what she told him he'd want. All Hephaistos wanted was his family back and to be loved. That was the moment Lahabrea had to introspect and realized Athena wasn't correct about his motives. Her declaring something about him didn't make it true.

Erichthonios is convinced he has a cruel and indifferent father for much of the raid. We see him twist neutral-to-kind gestures as malicious in front of us, as with Lahabrea allowing him to go to Pandaemonium as a child but insisting he know spells to protect himself. Erichthonios takes Lahabrea's insistence as believing he's not good enough instead of wanting him to be safe. We also see Erichthonios construe something that actually points to Lahabrea being depressed (giving himself no credit for completing the phoenix and advertising nothing only to be surprised by coworkers throwing him a celebration anyway) as him scorning Pandaemonium for not sharing the achievement with them. Erichthonios was taught to do this by Athena, and Athena likewise twists Lahabrea's self-image as a form of psychological abuse from the moment he approaches her in the soul bonding scene. She cites his status and accuses Lahabrea of thinking himself morally above others for descending to Pandaemonium and judging her. It never occurs to Athena that Lahabrea would try to stop her because he loves and wants to protect his son.

People are projecting their own personal beef with parents behaving poorly to assume Lahabrea is an uncaring father. He's not. He's extremely mentally ill and Erichthonios was groomed by an abusive mother while having no concept of what Lahabrea's mental illness would even look like... let alone how to deal with it.

Lahabrea explicitly thinks Erichthonios is better off with the false memory of a mother who abused him than having him present as a father because he considers himself so personally worthless. He can only see his presence as a detriment in his son's life. He is a short step from the kind of suicide people commit when they think other people would be happier and less burdened if they were dead. 'They might be sad for a while, but ultimately they'll be better off.'

I'm not even bringing out my citations right now. This isn't an Archon Thesis because I want my evidence properly assembled for that. But I recently saw someone try to frame the Convocation and Zodiark plan as uniformly awful, when the reality is doing nothing would have resulted in life going extinct. And if we're talking about zodiac signs mapping to Convocation members, there are more layers to it than 'Ascians = bad versions of the zodiac'.

Ex. The duality (two fish) and creativity associated with Pisces both apply to Lahabrea, but the emotionality does too. It isn't obvious at first but when you look it's there. Lahabrea has hidden strong emotions consistently through a variety of methods across the game. Sometimes it's reserve, sometimes it's aggression, sometimes it's hysteria. But when you look at the surrounding circumstances from his perspective, it makes perfect sense how and why he'd emote that way. It has never been safe for him to be emotionally vulnerable.

One of the earliest moments of 'villain laughter' from him we see is at Carteneau. His assistant waits quietly for him to finish. At that point Bahamut had been unleashed in yet another action that goes directly against Lahabrea's own morals, but is necessary to the Ardor. The sundered respond by invoking Lahabrea's phoenix as protection for humanity against a primal Lahabrea helped orchestrate. On some level people instinctively believe Lahabrea can and will protect them despite his failures, their own reincarnations, and thousands of years passing. It's ironic and horrible but this kind of irony has been happening to Lahabrea over and over again. If he doesn't laugh the dude's going to cry and (again) it isn't safe for him to do that.

(Also as the only Ascian to ever refer to Zodiark as 'master', Lahabrea is A) very tempered B) continuing a pattern of thought/behavior/worldbuilding where he puts his people first and himself dead last C) not talking about Athena. Lahabrea says in-game he had no earthly idea Athena was in the Heart of Sabik. I do think Heart of Sabik effected him by magnifying his desire to save his people and redeem himself in the face of survivor's guilt. It might have influenced his phrasing too. I have theories about what Lahabrea did at Praetorium but blowing it up was not 'the ultimate magic' by any means. I'm pretty sure he used it as a Themis and/or Zodiark backup drive, which Athena's presence at Anabaseios proves is possible anyway. He doesn't need to know about her to figure it out.

People have tried to say Athena is Lahabrea's god instead of Zodiark. Especially given the history of abuse and Lahabrea's own repeatedly shown priorities/actions, that take is pretty appalling imo. Completely dismisses how devoted he has always been to his people to destroy his will and identity altogether on a meta level.)

Even if we strip shit down to the most bare bones narrative form and ignore evidence--where motives and arcs are concerned 'oh Lahabrea has always been evil/uncaring/sociopathic/self-absorbed and stayed that way forever after' is bad storytelling. That would require a 'failure to change' arc as literal or spiritual death. That arc form ties to death because life requires accounting for/adapting to new experiences. If a character fails to do that (for better or worse) that character is stagnant and effectively not living. Such arcs require meticulously showing the process of rejecting experiences though. Zoraal Ja actually approaches the form a bit when we see him repeatedly taking nothing from the trials he undergoes, but his trajectory becomes 'change for the worse' after losing to his father's shade. None of the Unsundered are set up with that arc form, Lahabrea included. It wouldn't offer any insight, fit with what we know of the ancients and their values/society, or carry any emotional impact. Trying to go that route without setup is just bad storytelling and makes characters less believable. But yeah. Tl;dr I really, really wish people paid more attention and examined words vs actions vs surrounding circumstances vs motives.

#Seriously use your discretion here I didn't cushion my opinions in this one it's a rant #Deliberately no tags and I'd prefer not to have it in search either #I reference some analytical takes that frustrate me but I don't have beef with the analysts personally #mental health themes are important to me but they tend to be handled poorly in fandom imo #long post

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shebreathedherlast · 11 months ago

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Daughter of the Sea

Part IV

Masterlist

Back to the Beginning

Luke Castellan x f!reader

Summary: You, Luke, and Clarisse embark on your quest. You reminisce on how Luke and you became enemies in the first place.

Work Count: 2k

TW: Weapons, mean Luke, broken nose, blood, humiliation

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

You, Clarisse and Luke had been walking for hours, and to make matters worse the bright sun was beating down on your back the whole time. Your body felt hot and the warmth of the flare in the sky created a sheen layer of sweat on your skin.

Looking over to Luke who was trudging forward despite the heat you couldn’t help but feel envious of his stamina. You and Clarisse trailed behind the Hermes boy barely having the energy to place one foot in front of the other.

Luke was now nearly out of sight and for some reason his stamina was starting to get on your nerves. Maybe it was cause you craved his endurance, or maybe because you wanted to prove that you were better than him, that was typically the case.

You wondered how the boy appeared to be good at everything. He could fight, he helped around camp, he mentored campers, he was social and everyone looked up to him. Luke Castellan was Camp Half Blood’s golden-boy but you knew that there was a certain something he was hiding underneath his illusion of perfection. He was certainly not perfect in your eyes.

Luke Castellan was a puzzle.

One you were determined to solve.

He was attacking you in the woods one day, taunting you in the most humiliating ways and the next he pretended that there was nothing wrong. Almost as if he hadn’t tried to break your am. He was an enigma, a mystery…but you always had a nick for playing detective.

In all honesty, you had no idea why he hated you. You didn’t understand what you had done to make him despise you more than his own father. On the other hand, you had every reason to loathe him.

You remembered your first month at camp like it was yesterday.

You were thirteen.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

After your mom and her boyfriend had shipped you off to camp you knew that your life would be living hell. And you were right.

Staying in the crowded Hermes Cabin was torture, to say the least. The unclaimed sons and daughters of the gods as well as the minor gods and even Hermes' children themselves all inhabited the cabin. You were the new camper. The one who was bound to be picked on.

You were the kid just thrown aside by their mortal parent.

Unwanted that’s what you were.

Nobody wanted you. Not your mom, not your so-called friends, not your godly parent, not even these other half-bloods.

In your mind it wasn’t as if the kids at camp hated you, no, it was more so that they didn’t want anything to do with you.

They simply didn’t care.

That was until a certain Hermes boy came your way. He was kind. He helped you navigate your way through camp. He acknowledged you. Throughout your whole life, he was the only person who made you feel seen.

He was even the first person who taught you how to hold a sword.

Yes, Luke Castellan was your first friend, but you know what they say: friends come and friends go.

And he went.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

You knew that Luke had only been a camper a little longer than you. You knew he was desperate for glory. He wanted to be respected- he wanted to be liked.

Like you, he wanted to be accepted.

Unfortunately, his desires cast an ever-dooming shadow on your friendship.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

Luke had humiliated you in front of the whole camp to gain the other campers as so-called “friends.”

He had led you into a clearing not far from camp. Luke claimed he had found some kind of amplified form ambrosia that would grant the consumer the ability to see who their true godly parent was.

It was then that he had exploited your biggest insecurity.

After you slipped a berry into your mouth, your body began to convulse. You remember how Luke’s eyes widened and his arms wrapped around your waist to study your swaying movements. But the small curtsy would do nothing to earn your forgiveness.

After your body grew accustomed to whatever Luke convinced you to eat, almost everything went blank. You didn’t know for months after the event what actually happened. And during that time, you still remained near Luke’s side - that was until five months later when Clarisse La Rue told you what transpired.

Luke had given you Magemenos Berries. They were rare fruits located on the border of the camp and everyone in their right mind knew to stay away from them. Everyone but you. The berries enchanted whoever consumed them to obey anything that the first person who saw them said.

Clarisse told you how Luke and his friends had messed with you. Commanding you to do ridiculous things in front of the whole camp. One of the boys near Luke prompted him to make you act like a mindless mutt.

“Crawl to me,” Luke commanded. “Crawl to me on all fours like a mutt.”

And you did.

His commands only became more ruthless and his words harsher.

But you still obeyed. You couldn’t resist the pull of the enchantment.

Luke’s friends had laughed and praised him, granting him the validation he so desperately craved.

You were the laughingstock at camp. For months people teased and belittled you. They called you: “Mutt” “Dog” and their favourite, “Luke’s Bitch.” It was humiliating. You had cried yourself to sleep many nights and when you finally got the courage to confront Luke about what happened, his friends were near him. They cackled at your presence, teasing you mercilessly. You remember the way your voice cracked when you asked him, “Is…-is it true?” Luke tore his gaze away from your wet eyes. “I-” he spoke before his friends joined in laughing and confirming every horrible story you heard.

Your eyes met Luke’s. Betrayed and humiliated, that’s what he had done to you. He looked remorseful but with a nudge from one of the guys with him, all sorrow disappeared from his features. He even had the nerve to join them.

He was your first real friend, but you guessed even that was fake too.

You took a shaky breath, composing yourself. All your emotions molding into one, anger. You turned your back to him, taking a step away from the group. Luke murmured something, almost out of hearing distance, but not quite.

“Mutt”

Luke had used you to get what he wanted, acceptance.

You heard those four letters tumble out of his mouth and you couldn’t take it anymore. All the humiliation, all the teasing, all the manipulation. In one swift moment, you had turned back to face him. The next moment you had curved your fingers into the palm of your hand, and swung.

Luke Castellan had betrayed, humiliated, and played you. In return, you punched him in the face. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth.

“Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath, “Why are you such a bitch”

You narrowed your eyes at him, spitting onto the ground beneath his feet. “I swear before the gods, Luke Castellan, I will always hate you for this. I will make your life a living hell. Anything you do, I’ll do better. Anything you want, I’ll get it sooner. Any respect people have for you will be mine. You are dead to me.”

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

That was four years ago.

You and Luke never made up.

You went from friends to rivals, and rivals to enemies.

You would never let go of how he humiliated you, and you would torture his soul as long as you lived.

. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・・゜゜・．. ･ﾟﾟ･｡. .・゜゜・.

“Come on guys. You two are so slow I could probably complete this whole quest on my own. I could even do it before the both of you made it up this hill.”

There goes Luke Castellan again.

Egotistical prick.

Clarisse just shook her head in amusement and rolled her eyes. Unlike you, she didn’t mind Luke, and most of the time they actually got along.

She picked up the pace and soon she was nearing the insufferable boy before you.

You still trailed behind, the sun made it too hot to move.

“C’mon, Chaos,” Luke yelled from behind the hill, “I thought when you were thirteen you promised that anything I do you’d do it better?”

You only groaned in response, annoyed, irritated, and too hot to think.

“Shut up, Castellan, I’m trying to think.”

You neared the hill, now seeing Clarisse and Luke below you.

“What in Olympus do you need to think about?” He questioned, “All you’re doing is putting one foot in front of the other.”

You were too exhausted to indulge in his meaningless arguing.

Breathing heavily you took step after miserable step, desperately wishing that a taxi service was closer than forty miles away.

When you finally caught up with the other two half-bloods you nearly fainted into Clarisse’s arms. You’re body sagged against her. You were sure she was as equally hot as you were. “Remind me why you chose me to come on this quest with you?” You asked the Ares girl, out of breath.

She chuckled as she pushed you back onto your feet, reaching into her backpack for something. Her hand retrieved a granola bar which you accepted gratefully. The two of you maneuvered your way to a birch tree nearby.

“Luke!” Clarisse called, “We’re taking a break.”

Luke who was still walking pivoted and sighed as he came closer to you and Clarisse.

You scoffed at his presence and the girl beside you only nudged you, telling you to, “be nice.”

And that was coming from the daughter of the god of war.

The Hermes boy leaned against the tree as you and Clarise sat down on the luscious green grass. You bit off a piece of your granola bar and Clarisse took a long gulp of her water.

Luke leaned over, dark curls were suddenly in front of you as he reached over for Clarisse’s backpack. “Hey, uh…do you have any more of those apple cinnamon granola bars?” He asked.

The Ares girl shook her head, signifying a “no.”

“You’re*,* Chaos, here is eating the last one as we speak.” She said.

Luke’s head turned to you, his face inches away from yours. A certain look in his eyes you did not like.

You knew what he wanted, and you were not going to give it to him. If he was any other person you would’ve maybe shared, but this was Luke Castellan, the worst half-blood out there.

You met his eyes, firm and dark, “No.” You stated, clutching the granola bar close to your chest.

A smirk curled his lips, “I wasn’t asking.”

And without a second to spare Luke had swiped the protein bar from your hand, and took a bite.

No wonder he was the son of the god of thieves.

“Castellan!” You exclaim in anger, pushing yourself upright.

He only snickered in response, “My bad, Chaos. You want it back?”

“It has all your saliva on it.” You pointed out, disgusted.

He nodded, “Mmm, just how you like it.”

You grimace, shutting your eyes in disgust. "Gross," you said under your breath.

Clarisse calls you and Luke from ahead. “Come on you slowpokes, let’s get a move on, shall we?”

You glare at Luke as you return to Clarisse’s side. “Castellan’s the worst,” You complain to her.

She sighs, “Well at least you two aren’t violently threatening each other like every other time you’re within fifty feet of each other.”

You scoff, turning back to glace at Luke behind you, “Believe me, I want to.”

----

A/n I really hope to continue this series, I just feel so unmotivated to write.

Tag list: @motorsp0rt @astronomical-admonition @edenssworld @sillychloe @viennasaysstuff @esposadomd @bogbutteronmycroissant @moonykai @sflame15-blog @hoesindifferentshows @gloryekaterina @dakotali @notjustsomeblonde @silkenthusiasts @kanej-and-wesper-supremacy @ren-isdone @ashisabitgay @tsukiko26 @niktwazny303 @idgxitciycouv @cindywasneverhere @s0urw00lf @lovebug0 @sunburrn999

#luke castellan #charlie bushnell #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x reader #pjo tv show #fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #rick riordan #angst #enemies to lovers #pjo series #pjo #walker scobell #dior goodjohn #clarisse la rue #x reader #fem reader #percyjackson

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gildeddlily · 1 year ago

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can I say something?

something I've started to not quite dislike, but not appreciate much about pjo was the way rick riordan talked about and characterized some gods- like Ares (still understand why he did that tho).

personally, as a kid who grew up reading myth after myth, I've always loved Ares, and when I re-read after years the pjo books some months ago I noticed how some of the gods are kind of lazy-written, or simply treated badly- as characters ofc.

one of them is Ares.

Ares is kind of impossible to appreciate in the books.

the only good moment he has is the "that's my girl" with Clarisse (but it still happened after years of neglect so yeah, not so great at the end), and then it's all bad, and he kind of gets ignored in favour of other gods- like Poseidon, who does mistakes but still can be appreciated, and is someone we could even relate too. Hades, Persephone, Hermes, Apollo and Artemis, they were we can say well-rounded second characters.

Demetra, Dionysus (except for the "protect my son" bit in the fifth book loved him for that and in general him with pollux and castor) but especially Aphrodite and Ares are just there so symbolize something Percy and us readers dislike.

(this is about Ares, but I could talk ab Aphrodite for hours (another day bud))

Ares is fucking cool.

he's the god of war, so unlike some of his other relatives his domain can never get weak, because humans are always fighting, there's always a war somewhere- but the way rick wrote him kind of erased the part where people prayed to him in order to not only beat someone and win a conflict, but also to survive one.

who attacked first prayed for Ares to help them, who was attacked and fought back prayed for Ares to make them survive and exit the conflict as winners, because there are always two sides in a war, and Ares represents them both.

but I can understand why rick ignored this part of him and reduced him to an extremely strong god who loves conflicts- and why, as a 11ys kid I didn't really got that. I was just sad that my fav god wasn't a cool guy. now I'm older, and I notice that, but still I don't blame him for writing Ares like that.

it's a kids book, and I can't pretend from it to be the greatest thing ever written, and I can appreciate these books with ease.

(and yk, war may be natural, but it doesn't mean it's right, so it's normal that a kids book characterised the god of war as someone despicable.

every god is despicable (as it should be, not so strange from the god of death to steal from earth someone young and all springy and trap them in his realm, it's kind of how life works!!!), but it's hard to explain kids how sexual assault and murder were their breakfasts and lunches, while war=wrong is easy and right! so)

but the show changed that?

it's changing a lot of things, but first of all it's dealing with things about greek gods that were ignored or set to the side in the books- the way it so heavily say, again and again, how the life they expected demigods to live was wrong.

but, honestly, I simply loved Ares.

not only for the twitter fights, but for his talk with grover mainly.

and even though grover said those things in order to manipulate him into telling him what he wanted to know- it was more than nice to see how they fixed and perfected an almost ignored character (in the books a strong, too prideful and not-at-all wise god).

can't what to see what they'll do with aphrodite my wife and pride!!!!

#i have to say no beta read we die like my will to live after annabeth's speech and what is love #really too tired to re-read this #take my ramble #this is from my littel heart #live laugh love ares #pjo ares #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #rick riordan #pjo verse #aphrodite #greek mythology

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nickeverdeen · 3 months ago

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Cabin 12, Dionysus

Whether it’s a relaxing campfire or a wild game of capture-the-flag, they know how to turn up (or down) the energy in a room

Their lives are a blend of mischief and unpredictability

They have a fiery, passionate side, especially when it comes to their interests

Dionysus’s kids are great at debating, sometimes just for the fun of it, and their intensity can be both inspiring and intimidating

They’re deeply in tune with their own emotions and those of others

While they can be wild and reckless at times, they’re also incredibly empathetic, often sensing when someone is struggling and knowing how to help

True to their father’s reputation, Dionysus’s kids have a tendency to overindulge—whether it’s in food, hobbies, or even camp activities

They might eat an entire tray of s’mores or stay up all night perfecting a theatrical skit, but they always bounce back with more energy

They know how to throw a good party

Dionysus kids excel at organizing events, from casual hangouts to full-blown celebrations, making sure everyone feels included and entertained

They’re the go-to for planning camp socials

Beyond vines, they have a general connection to plants and nature

Many Dionysus kids are skilled gardeners or have a natural green thumb, often creating lush, wild gardens around camp

They might seem laid-back, but Dionysus’s kids are no joke when it comes to combat

They fight with a wild, unpredictable style that keeps their enemies guessing

Despite their playful exteriors, they have a philosophical side

Dionysus’s kids often ponder the deeper questions of life, love, and existence, and they enjoy meaningful conversations about the human experience

They have a natural charisma that makes them excellent negotiators right after Hermes kids

They can defuse tense situations with humor, charm, or a clever compromise, making them valuable mediators at camp

Their creative ideas might seem random or even ridiculous at first, but they often turn out to be brilliant

Whether it’s an unconventional strategy in battle or an inspired performance at camp, their unique perspective sets them apart

They have a fierce protective streak, especially over their friends and younger campers

If someone messes with their people, Dionysus kids won’t hesitate to unleash chaos in their defense

Their wild nature extends to their fighting style

Dionysus kids thrive in unpredictability, using distractions, illusions, and even their environment to confuse and overwhelm their enemies

They know how to have fun, but they’re also experts in relaxation

Dionysus’s kids understand the importance of unwinding, whether that means napping under a tree, hosting a chill movie night, or just taking time to breathe

#cabin 12 #dionysus

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greekbros · 9 months ago

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Just finished my thoughts on Blood of Zeus season 2 (WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS)

The music makes me feel so nostalgic for some reason?! It reminds me of a bunch of amazing Sword and Sandal movies, Jason and the Argonauts, Clash of the Titans (80's) and anything the Universal studios has produced pre-2000's. It's so beautiful. I know it's not as traditional as some recent media has done but it epitomizes more classic depictions of Greek mythology that most people began liking from early childhood.

The first three episodes were a little weird for some reason. Buuuuut it started to get better.

Hades and Persephone actually has a pretty good reason to be stirring so absolute tea. Also ZAGREUS AND MELINOE ARE THERE POOR BIBIS.

I do... fucking...not...want to assume Hermes cut Heron's life line but why am I getting that weird sneaking suspicion he did??? Maybe Gaia is suspect too.

I LOVE the inclusion of more gods, even if some of them were just cameos.

The mischaracterization of Ares, Demeter and Hades to some extent was a fuckn whiplash. Like Ares.... GOING TO RAPE PERSEPHONE? Hell fucking no that's Heresy. Demeter being ruthless for no reason seemed very off too. Hades is most suppose to be reasonable, it felt somehow forced. I don't know....but it was more interesting then the forced conflicts between Hera and almost half of everyone else.

Hera's redemption was a bit rushed...but I actually appreciate that at least someone isn't trying to make things more complicated.

THE USE OF CORDYCEPS FUNGUS WILL NEVER NOT BE FUCKING HORRIFYING AS SHIT LIKE DAAAAAAAMN DEMETER THATS NURGLE SHIT.

Seraphim is...ugh...there....I mean yey he's becoming more redeemable...but....it feels ....forced??? I don't know it's the second season I could being annoying about it.

The sphinx design was perfect! Her riddles were bullshit tho.

Gorgo seems like she's a reference to Medusa the Gorgon in the Ovid version of the myth. Mostly because of the root word 'gorgo'.

I found the inclusion of the Three Kings of the Underworld to be both interesting yet a bit ironic. Considering each king is a known character from the myths that were guilty of equally terrible things. It would be interesting to have them be ancient pre-Hellenic kings.

Gaia was the coolest grandma ever....and I don't blame her for being epic as fuk frustrated to the point of summoning Typhon.

9/10 🏺, I recommend watching this show to get a perfect understanding of how to play around with a retelling without 100% completely misunderstanding the myth

#greek mythology #hellenistic #greek gods #greek posts #blood of zeus

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el-moscorrofio-y-el-mercachifle · 7 months ago

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Hi Adm, have you watched the version “Betty en NY”? If not, you should give her a chance! The characters are more in-depth (for example: Sofia, Sandra and Maria Beatriz (who is called Maria Lucia in this version), Armando is less neurotic and even the “relationship” between Patricia and Daniel is much, MUCH “lighter” than as in the original, their interactions even have a comical tone!!!

If you watch it, come tell us what you thought. 🥰

Hiii! Sorry for the delay!

Tbh I watched it a long time ago! Probably around 2020 or 2021? So I don't remember most details. Also, I only watched until Betty finds Calderón's video (the sinister letter in this version!). There were things I really liked about it and others that I was honestly not a big fan of... particularly the casting. I didn't like most of the actors chosen to play the characters☹️

Anyway, Spoilers Ahead!

It had a really good budget, I do remember that! A&M definitely did look like a high end modern office, so that was good!

I wasn't a big fan of most of the characters, tho. They're very very different to the original version, and I don't mean on looks. For example, Armando is much less neurotic, much less distracted, and isn't as distant with his own feelings. He has no problem crying and being open about how he's feeling, like during that scene after the collection fails that he goes to cry in Betty's office-storage room and Betty finds him and hugs him. He's not hiding his deep fear of failure behind anger and violence, like he did in the novela. Here's he's pretty open about what he feels which is in part why it was a bit odd to me why he was so in denial about loving Betty when it was very easy for him before to recognize his own feelings. He was also very kind to Betty since the start if I'm no misremembering! Og Armando alternated between being a sweetheart ("you are the woman I was needing"/"no one touches my betty!"/"I was never expecting from you a perfect woman") and a total jackass (liek when he left her all night in her office, when he didn't notice he left her without lunch, or when he yelled at her... multiple times). His bad temper was also very similar to don Hermes' which is why Betty was used to it and didn't take it to heart, because she's used to her dad who is also a good man with good intentions but a bit too easily to anger lol she knows both of them don't mean to hurt her so she never takes offense on them. He's also not imposing, as charismatic, and as magnetic and charming as og Armando was.

Don Hermes is not that sharp minded, protective, and grumpy man who was his daughter's hero and was always on the lookout for danger. He was a feeble old man who was too naive and innocent and would probably be unable to hurt a single fly. He literally gets robbed of his life's savings for going around on foot with it all on a suitcase and yelling on the phone about it🫠😂

Calderón was... oh god, I despised that Calderón. He was easily the worst thing about that version. He wasn't even funny like Mario, who is still a pos but on a smaller (and more LEGAL lol) way. Mario was a pretty bad man but he was funny and him and Armando had good chemistry. Ricardo and Armando didn't...

I remember a bunch of little scenes that I loved or got stuck in my head. For examplex the one with Daniel throwing a bunch of bills to Patty hust to humiliate her. I found that scene so strong and effective but also VERY accurate to something og Daniel would do!

Another one that I loved was little Armando going to business meetings with Roberto! I loved that because it showed us how big of a dream having the presidency was to him, ever since he was a kid. We get to understand deeply why he's so crazy to achieve his goals

I also liked Jenny, she was easily the funniest character of the show! I actually wish la Pupu had been mlre like her. To me Jenny was never funny, just annoying and easily hateable, but Jenny was still just as bad AND funny, so it was a great mix. I also liked other little details like how the IT guy actually helped Patty sabotage the computer because he was into her, which to me seemed a much more reasonable excuse for his behavior instead of the "oh he's just miserable" one from og. I also liked Hugo's a Inesita's relationship! Not a big fan of that Inesita, although this Hugo was very good! I also liked that this version showed a longer lovers' phase between A+M.

What I can never like is how NY Armando knew of everything that happeend to Betty (which was WAY WORSE) and still chose to have sex with her. Og Armando didn't know and that's why he spirals after the second night when they're still at Mario's place. He cries and you can see how guilty he feels...

In any case, I liked the concept overall: a modern version taking place with a whole different culture. I wasn't a big fan of the changes in personality that this new environment would require, tho. The casting for Armando and Betty was a bit off, and I wasn't particularly sold in their chemistry. You can tell this version tried to sanktize their relationship but unfortunately it also eliminates a lot of the reasons why A&B click so well in the first place. Calderón was an atrocity, no redeeming qualities at all lol Jenny was amazing, Hugo was great!

I definitely should give it another chance tho!

Thank you for the question! Once I'm done rewatching ysblf I will watch this version again!

#ysblf #yo soy betty la fea #betty la fea #armando mendoza #beatriz pinzon solano #armando ysblf #betty in ny

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pacificwaternymph · 2 years ago

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35 with pearl? Any iteration of her and with anyone else

"You deserve better than this. You deserve better."

I took a break from these for a little while but now I'm back! Sorry this one's a bit shorter, I'm mostly trying to just get warmed back up after so long without writing them.

"It wasn't your fault, Sausage," was the first thing he heard when he opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground, surrounded by wheat, and staring up at a flawless blue sky. Tiny pinpricks of colorful magic danced around the air, like fireflies.

He sat up, and saw her.

Pearl stood across from Sausage in the golden field. The feathers of her equally golden wings rustled in a breeze which tousled her hair.

She looked as radiant and unshaken as ever. As though the events of the day hadn't affected her at all. Perhaps they hadn't. She was a goddess, after all. She was always a step removed from the affairs of mortals no matter what kind of personal stake she had in them.

"I should have stopped him sooner." The words left him before he even fully processed what they meant. "I should never have left Sanctuary to go to that stupid tea party."

"You were trying to protect our friends. It was a noble pursuit, even if you misunderstood his intentions." Pearl crossed over to him and held out a hand. "I'm sorry I couldn't warn you, my friend."

"It's not your fault." Sausage accepted the hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. "He cut off communication with you."

Pearl nodded, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I should've known he was going to be trouble sooner or later. Maybe I should have dealt with him when I had the chance."

"Or maybe he shouldn't have existed in the first place," Sausage mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

He glanced over at Pearl. "This is an issue that I created, Pearl. I alone am to blame for everything that happened. If past-life me didn't make that deal with the demon, none of this would have happened."

He sat back down in the wheat, and Pearl followed him, wrapping a wing around his shoulder.

"Your past life made a mistake," she said, pulling him in closer. He rested his head on her shoulder. "Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. But what is more important is that he also tried to fix it. He reconciled with the people he hurt and he did his best to deal with your doppelgänger. It wasn't perfect, but it never needed to be."

"Yeah, it wasn't perfect, and he left evil me alive so that I had to deal with him. So that my son had to deal with me." Guilt curled in his chest. He would be lucky if Hermes ever fully trusted him again. To have someone wear his face and use it to lure him into a trap... to be used as bait... the poor kid could hardly even look him in the eye.

"Hermes is scared of me," he admitted to Pearl. "He pretends like he isn't but... I can see it in his eyes. I'm taking him back to Stratos tomorrow morning, he'll feel safer with his other dad. And then... who knows when he'll feel comfortable enough to come back to Sanctuary."

Pearl was silent for a few moments, before sighing. "It's times like these where I wish I still had a foothold in the mortal world," she said almost scornfully. "I'm sorry, Sausage. You deserve better than this."

His shoulders hunched. "Do I?"

"You deserve better," she emphasized. "Hermes will understand. He might be scared, but he knows, deep down, that it wasn't you. You'll get through this together, I promise."

When Sausage didn't say anything else, she continued. "You can't be blamed for the things you did in a past life, you were a different person back then. And some of the things you did were... questionable, I guess, but hey it's not like you were the only one!"

Sausage snorted.

"No, really! I considered Xornoth a friend at one point! I called them cute to their face!" Sausage looked up, eyes wide. Pearl was grinning like a maniac. "I was so desperate for a sparring partner who could keep up with me I turned to the literal demon trying to destroy the world!" She laughed. "And the best part is that I still miss it! I've not had a fight that good since then, not even when you came up here for a bit as an angel!"

Now Sausage was laughing too, hard enough that his stomach was hurting. He clutched it with both arms, tears leaking from his eyes.

The endless wheat field started to fade around the edges, and he knew he was waking up. He looked over at his friend, seeing her still smiling.

"Thank you, Pearl," he said, gratefully. Pearl nodded.

"Yeah, of course. Anytime, my friend."

Sausage looked out over the dissipating landscape, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes.

#my writing #empires smp #empires smp s2 #empires smp season 2 #empires season 2 #empires s2 #mythicalsausage #mythical sausage #pearlescent moon #pearlescentmoon

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flightfoot · 1 year ago

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I know I’m in the minority of people who like Hermes in the original PJO series so I’m staying on anon here because of it. To be honest, I always saw him as morally gray.

My take on the ‘gods can’t change’ statement; isn’t him justifying his mistakes and saying that he’s unwilling to change. If that were true, he wouldn’t give Percy a list of his children and ask him to bring them to camp or even admit he was wrong about how he treated Annabeth and Luke at the end of TLO. I think he feels perpetually trapped. Forced to go through the motions and then dealing with such a difficult situation. That regardless of the actions that he takes; others are bound to get hurt. His family especially. He doesn’t want to risk that. He doesn’t want them harmed and he knows that he’s a bit of a coward for not being able to stand up to Zeus. I think the idea that gods can’t change is more like I am beginning to think that my family will never change. That despite all my best efforts and my own changing; it still won’t make much of a difference. He’s basically nihilistic in this situation and has given up hope. As the god tasked with keeping the peace without Hestia’s help; he may feel helpless. I think he loved Luke but at the time he believed that no one could go against the Fates. Not even him. That by protecting him, it would make his relationship with Luke worse or doom everyone involved to a worse fate. He lost his lover Krokos to a tragic fate. His mother too. Same with May and others. I doubt he wants them to suffer like that. To grieve again. It’s always better for him to be the bad guy to those hurt by Olympus than for people to blame his family or themselves.

tw. racism and mental health

I guess I was the one weird kid who kind of understood where the god was coming from. My home life wasn’t great and I was forced to be my family’s peacekeeper. I had to be what everyone wanted me to be otherwise I lost opportunities. I wouldn’t get a job, have friends etc.. I had to be a model minority being Asian American. I protested and fought. Had quiet rebellions, but no one ever listened. I needed someone to listen. Not necessarily agree but hear me. I see that with Hermes.

I can understand people disagreeing. I respect differences in opinions. I am just tired of seeing Hermes as only pure evil and irredeemable content. He’s an important god and I feel like I’m the only one who likes this character. I think maybe it’s best that I stop engaging with the RR fandom for a bit. I am just too invested in something that should just be fun and easygoing.

...most people don't like Hermes in the original PJO series? I did, quite a bit. Like, he wasn't perfect, but he really DID care about what was going on with Luke, and he seemed self-aware about how shitty the situation was for demigods. His attitude in TLO reminded me of Apollo's in the later TOA books (there's a reason I made him and Artemis allies in my Gods' Eye View series. Well, that and because he and Apollo are besties in mythology).

And yeah I mean, Hermes isn't the only immortal to espouse the view that they can't change, Apollo and Bob claimed the same thing (which was especially laughable in Bob's case). It seems pretty ingrained in immortal thinking, even with how clearly wrong it is.

I ascribe to your view of Hermes' thinking and attitude. He seems bitter and helpless at the end of TLO, honestly believing that things won't change, and just... he seems like he's given up. He cares, but he doesn't expect to be able to change anything.

And yeah, stepping back from the RR fandom may be good for a bit, in this case, since sadly in my experience, fandoms tend to continue happily vilifying characters. I haven't seen a lot of people being all that serious about it with Hermes, but I haven't really seen much Hermes content for PJO more generally, since I'm mostly in the Trials of Apollo sphere and he only gets a cameo there.

#ask #hermes #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians

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agapewizard · 7 days ago

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➝ “ALL is Mind” 🔑 The 12 cognitive biases that prevent you from being rational And how to free yourself from them by Mastering your Mind; Self Mastery.

“ALL is Mind” The Kybalion Book of Thoth or Hermes. One of the most misunderstood aspects of ourselves is the Mind. All that we are passes through this omnipresent aspect of ourselves we can call the mind. Therefore, rational processes are actually your ability to direct the mind into action; bringing forth all that we see in the universe. As such, the greater our ability to Master the Mental plane the greater our ability to gain Spiritual attainment and the fruits of a harmonized life and Being; the development of a perfecting soul.

ENERGY + VIBRATION = MATTER THOUGHT + VOICE = REALITY

Intrinsic Knowledge internal understanding of what a thing is, how it relates to All that IS is the key to the puzzle of our life on Earth; where we develop the Mastery of Mind and the Self. Therefore, any process or belief which is Extrinsic will always limit us on the Mental plane and create a Dependency on the External Source. For Example, if your doctor tells you that ‘salt is bad for you’ and provides no evidence for you to come to your own conclusion about this assertion, if you believe it (accept it as truth without doing the rational work of understanding why) then you are now Dependent on the Doctor. This is called CoDependency and this modality is rife on earth as being one of the most disempowering Social Programs for our soul growth we can fall into.

How can this knowledge help you on your path towards Spiritual Attainment, Self Empowerment, and Blissful Enlightenment? By revealing the mechanism, or technique through which we relate to our reality (Mentalism and the Rational Process), we can begin the life long process of expanding ourselves, and in doing so, ‘reach the mountain top’ described by many spiritual masters the world over.

Lack of Rational Process Creates CoDependencies

How does all this relate to CoDependency? As we described in the post The Theory and Practice of Black Magic How can you tell if you are Practicing Black Magic?, any choice you make to limit your growth, and not develop Intrinsic Knowledge must always be balanced by creating an external dependency. This is CoDependency. Hence our world is filled with Experts and Guru’s who ‘know better’ then we do.

What is a Bias?

Bias prejudice in favor of or against one thing, person, or group compared with another, usually in a way considered to be unfair Bias is a term which usually calls up ideas of bigotry, prejudice and limitation. But within the context of our relation to the Universe, Bias is the tool we use to develop Automatic Programs of interpretation and meaning; what Psychology has come to call ‘the subconscious.’ Pick up a hot pan on the stove without an oven mitt and you will have the experience of burning your hand. Now, when you see a pan on the stove you have a Bias towards thinking the pan is hot which guides your behavior, choices and emotions, to avoid the past experience and pick up the pan with an oven mitt.

As we can see, biases defined this way, are actually fundamental to moving through life, but how are Biases formed? Biases are formed by a Rational and Logical Process which many in the New Age Community have misunderstood. The Mind is the filter through which your total experience passes and your Emotions are the energy charge associated with something in your experience as a result of passing through the mind. If you are Aware or Conscious of a thing in any capacity it is a Mind Phenomena, charging you with Emotions due to the framework of understanding you have created with respect to that thing. The Intuition which emotions yield is part of a process for making a choice, which is decision making and a Rational Process. Therefore, Emotions are just as much a part of the Rational Process and the Mind, as Logic and Reason; the two are intrinsically interconnected in our everyday experience and cannot be separated.

As a side note, the phrase “Heart Space” has been used by many in the Awakening Community to refer to some state of BEing outside of Mind Function. This is one of the conceptual fallacies pushed by our wouldbe masters to lead us astray. “Heart Space” is more accurately described as the consciousness of total acceptance with your experience and an open mindedness to receive new perspectives and data in totality. Love is by definition inclusive. Because we have the ability to learn and “automate” how we feel towards our experiences, Biases can be either empowering or disempowering. The key is to not limit yourself with Absolute Conclusions about anything in your life experience; an absolute bias. For Absolute Conclusions or Flags of Truth are part of our Ego Identity, and as such when challenged, cull up defensive mechanisms which limit our growth. The following post details some of the many biases we create for ourselves as a result of this skism. And our unwillingness to change our Biases creates a codependency with our ego, others and the world at large. I have expanded on the below post to include a perspective that the following 12 Cognative Biases are part of conceptual web of CoDependency with Externalizations to limit our understanding and ability to know the world as it IS, instead of how we want it to be.

The human brain is capable of 1016 processes per second, which makes it far more powerful than any computer currently in existence. But that doesn’t mean our brains don’t have major limitations. The lowly calculator can do math thousands of times better than we can, and our memories are often less than useless — plus, we’re subject to cognitive biases, those annoying glitches in our thinking that cause us to make questionable decisions and reach erroneous conclusions. Here are a dozen of the most common and pernicious cognitive biases that you need to know about. [‘The ‘New Age’ philosophy of abandoning the Mind comes as a reaction to a lack of mastery of the Rational Processes (mind atrophy) which are inherent in the human experience. Errors as a result of poor reasoning does not mean that all reasoning must be discarded. “Elephants are grey, but not all grey things are Elephants.”]

Before we start, it’s important to distinguish between cognitive biases and logical fallacies. A logical fallacy is an error in logical argumentation (e.g. ad hominem attacks, slippery slopes, circular arguments, appeal to force, etc.). A cognitive bias, on the other hand, is a genuine deficiency or limitation in our thinking — a flaw in judgment that arises from errors of memory, social attribution, and miscalculations (such as statistical errors or a false sense of probability). Some social psychologists believe our cognitive biases help us process information more efficiently, especially in dangerous situations. Still, they lead us to make grave mistakes. We may be prone to such errors in judgment, but at least we can be aware of them. Here are some important ones to keep in mind.

Confirmation Bias

We love to agree with people who agree with us. It’s why we only visit websites that express our political opinions, and why we mostly hang around people who hold similar views and tastes. We tend to be put off by individuals, groups, and news sources that make us feel uncomfortable or insecure about our views — what the behavioral psychologist B. F. Skinner called cognitive dissonance. It’s this preferential mode of behavior that leads to the confirmation bias — the often unconscious act of referencing only those perspectives that fuel our preexisting views, while at the same time ignoring or dismissing opinions — no matter how valid — that threaten our world view. And paradoxically, the internet has only made this tendency even worse.

[This is a form of selective data processing or ‘cherry picking’ where we only absorb data which confirms our accepted meaning in relation to a thing. Codependency with our world view, where we need to find things to confirm how we want the world to be , instead of how it IS . The key to freeing yourself from Confirming a Bias is to look Consciously at the bias and ask yourself if it is true within all possible contexts for which it applies. For example, if you have a Bias that ‘cancer has no cure’ expose yourself to ALL the data which relates to this topic along with the counter argument and come to an Internal or Intrinsic Conclusion. Finally, keep an open mind with respect to the conclusions you draw as to leave the door open for a deeper understanding.]

Ingroup Bias

Somewhat similar to the confirmation bias is the ingroup bias, a manifestation of our innate tribalistic tendencies. And strangely, much of this effect may have to do with oxytocin — the socalled “love molecule.” This neurotransmitter, while helping us to forge tighter bonds with people in our ingroup, performs the exact opposite function for those on the outside — it makes us suspicious, fearful, and even disdainful of others. Ultimately, the ingroup bias causes us to overestimate the abilities and value of our immediate group at the expense of people we don’t really know.

[This is a more explicit form of CoDependency where we choose to ‘go alone with the crowd’ in stead take the risk of disagreeing with a group; an emotional dependency on others. Because most of us do not have Intrinsic understanding of things in our world, we tend to go along Experts because we have not done the work of gaining personal understanding; a temporal compensation for lack of Mind Mastery. Once we do take the time to understand something, it becomes very easy to make a stand for what we know in the face of the accepted Group Dogma.

For example, most people do not know there are cures for cancer already in use on Earth, but if you have gone through an alternative treatment like the Gerson Theraphy, this fact is undeniable. In this case, you can simply share your experience with a group becoming an Expert in your own right. But if you choose to go along with the group, inspite of your intrinsic knowledge and experience, this is reflective of a fear of ostracization from the group. This is yet another form of CoDependency, wherein your sense of ‘being accepted’ is more important then sharing your truth; you will deceive others by going along. Freeing yourself from this is a matter of being brave enough to question a long held belief and speak it clearly to your peers.]

Gambler’s Fallacy

It’s called a fallacy, but it’s more a glitch in our thinking. We tend to put a tremendous amount of weight on previous events, believing that they’ll somehow influence future outcomes. The classic example is cointossing. After flipping heads, say, five consecutive times, our inclination is to predict an increase in likelihood that the next coin toss will be tails — that the odds must certainly be in the favor of heads. But in reality, the odds are still 50/50. As statisticians say, the outcomes in different tosses are statistically independent and the probability of any outcome is still 50%.

Relatedly, there’s also the positive expectation bias — which often fuels gambling addictions . It’s the sense that our luck has to eventually change and that good fortune is on the way. It also contribues to the “hot hand” misconception. Similarly, it’s the same feeling we get when we start a new relationship that leads us to believe it will be better than the last one.

[This form of CoDependency is with the concept of luck, or that the events in our lives are attributed to an allotment of magic energy which eventually ‘runs out.’ This reaction to events in our lives is again due to a lack of Key Knowledge and Understanding or Intrinsic knowledge; under developed Mental Mastery. Luck, as a concept, is by definition, beyond our creative influence. Possibly the idea of the God’s casting fate over us is where Luck comes from.

Therefore, accepting the idea that you are unlucky because you get into a car accident form work, prevents you from looking at the events objectively and coming into awareness about knowledge you can gain to empower yourself in the future. Again the idea of Cancer is a great example. If you think of yourself as having ‘bad luck’ because you got cancer it blocks you from developing any rational process, looking at your habits and life, to determine if you could have prevented it, or more importantly what the factors were that caused the cancer in the first place.

Cancer is a product of long term Nutrient Deficiency in conjunction with overwhelming Toxicity, contrary to accepted medical doctrine. Freeing yourself from this is a matter of honestly looking at the events in your life and how you contributed to their happening. Very little in our personal experience is beyond our creative influence.]

PostPurchase Rationalization

Remember that time you bought something totally unnecessary, faulty, or overly expense, and then you rationalized the purchase to such an extent that you convinced yourself it was a great idea all along? Yeah, that’s postpurchase rationalization in action — a kind of builtin mechanism that makes us feel better after we make crappy decisions, especially at the cash register. Also known as Buyer’s Stockholm Syndrome, it’s a way of subconsciously justifying our purchases — especially expensive ones. Social psychologists say it stems from the principle of commitment, our psychological desire to stay consistent and avoid a state of cognitive dissonance

[This form of CoDependency is with who we think we are in contrast to who we really are; Worship of the Static Ego. Often we think of ourselves as making sound decisions and when we are confronted with data revealing otherwise we tend to run from the truth. “To Err is Human,” and justification of the past is an attempt to hold on to the idea that we are infallible . It is only when we honestly acknowledge our mistakes that we can begin to empower ourselves with the gems of wisdom hidden in our past. This is the key to freeing yourself from Justifying your Mistakes, in attempts to avoid the growth that comes with recognizing them.]

Neglecting Probability

Very few of us have a problem getting into a car and going for a drive, but many of us experience great trepidation about stepping inside an airplane and flying at 35,000 feet. Flying, quite obviously, is a wholly unnatural and seemingly hazardous activity. Yet virtually all of us know and acknowledge the fact that the probability of dying in an auto accident is significantly greater than getting killed in a plane crash — but our brains won’t release us from this crystal clear logic (statistically, we have a 1 in 84 chance of dying in a vehicular accident, as compared to a 1 in 5,000 chance of dying in an plane crash [other sources indicate odds as high as 1 in 20,000]). It’s the same phenomenon that makes us worry about getting killed in an act of terrorism as opposed to something far more probable, like falling down the stairs or accidental poisoning.

This is what the social psychologist Cass Sunstein calls probability neglect — our inability to properly grasp a proper sense of peril and risk — which often leads us to overstate the risks of relatively harmless activities, while forcing us to overrate more dangerous ones.

[This from of CoDependency is with the mechanisms we use to avoid the personal fears that trigger intense emotions. Trauma, is the condition of experiencing something which is so intense we unconsciously choose to dissociate from the experience to protect ourselves from the emotional upheaval. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is the term associated with this behavior. Many of the things we label ‘bad’ are a result of the Trauma associated with becoming aware of certain experiences and things which are a result of the world views and perspectives we have been programmed with. As a result, the greater the extent of dissociation with the experience or idea the greater emotional response and the more likely our decisions will be clouded by irrational processes attempting to avoid a long forgotten trauma. Fear, when consciously associated with an event or thing can be useful, just like the smell of smoke coming from somewhere can draw your awareness to a fire in the other the kitchen. But, when we choose to run from the source of our fear, we create a bonanza of triggers eventually leading us to make all sorts of irrational decisions.

The key is to face your fear head on and expand your knowledge about the thing you fear so deeply it becomes part of you, transcending the fear entirely. For example, many people fear flying and as a result never fly at all, but once you examine your fear and realize it is unjustified, then you can make the critical first step of facing it, by flying and overcoming it with more experiences.]

Observational Selection Bias

This is that effect of suddenly noticing things we didn’t notice that much before — but we wrongly assume that the frequency has increased. A perfect example is what happens after we buy a new car and we inexplicably start to see the same car virtually everywhere. A similar effect happens to pregnant women who suddenly notice a lot of other pregnant women around them. Or it could be a unique number or song. It’s not that these things are appearing more frequently, it’s that we’ve (for whatever reason) selected the item in our mind, and in turn, are noticing it more often. Trouble is, most people don’t recognize this as a selectional bias, and actually believe these items or events are happening with increased frequency — which can be a very disconcerting feeling. It’s also a cognitive bias that contributes to the feeling that the appearance of certain things or events couldn’t possibly be a coincidence (even though it is).

[This CoDependency is similar to ‘cherry picking’ accept it is done with your own past experience because we have a new awareness enriching our perspective with things which we were previously unconscious of. Because we do not like to think of ourselves as unaware , we conclude that there is more of this thing then there was in the past. For Example, when we become aware of Chemtrails, we begin to see them more and more, and sometimes we try and conclude that more are being sprayed. The key is to recognize that while we are aware of many things Consciously, there is a great deal we are Unconscious of. “The key to wisdom is knowing what you do not know.” Keep an open mind about all things for absolute certainty creates an Egocentric Identity which now must be projected by selective observation.]

StatusQuo Bias

We humans tend to be apprehensive of change, which often leads us to make choices that guarantee that things remain the same, or change as little as possible. Needless to say, this has ramifications in everything from politics to economics. We like to stick to our routines, political parties, and our favorite meals at restaurants. Part of the perniciousness of this bias is the unwarranted assumption that another choice will be inferior or make things worse. The statusquo bias can be summed with the saying, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” — an adage that fuels our conservative tendencies. And in fact, some commentators say this is why the U.S. hasn’t been able to enact universal health care, despite the fact that most individuals support the idea of reform.

[Our apprehension for change in our lives is a direct result of Fearing the Unknown. This is one of the Primal Fears and it is creates a host of CoDependent tendencies, where we place our choice not to move into the unknown onto others for their approval. For example, if we have a friend who as died from cancer, it becomes much more difficult to realize that cancer cures have existed because there is a huge level of unknown factors we become aware of in relation to something we feel we have already understood. The key is realize that you do not have absolute knowledge and become aware of the thing you are so staunching trying to appose. Questioning an assertion because you want to understand it is different then attempting to stop an idea from being explored. Therefore, do not discard new information simply because it counters your world view and explore the unknown as a child explores the world.]

Negativity Bias

People tend to pay more attention to bad news — and it’s not just because we’re morbid. Social scientists theorize that it’s on account of our selective attention and that, given the choice, we perceive negative news as being more important or profound. We also tend to give more credibility to bad news, perhaps because we’re suspicious (or bored) of proclamations to the contrary. More evolutionarily, heeding bad news may be more adaptive than ignoring good news (e.g. “saber tooth tigers suck” vs. “this berry tastes good”). Today, we run the risk of dwelling on negativity at the expense of genuinely good news. Steven Pinker, in his book The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined , argues that crime, violence, war, and other injustices are steadily declining, yet most people would argue that things are getting worse — what is a perfect example of the negativity bias at work.

[Before we get into this Bias, let us first address the terms ‘good and bad.’ We use these words all the time to share value judgements we have. “This tastes bad! Her outfit looks good. You got a bad grade on your paper.” So what is good and what is bad? These are Subjective perspectives based on an Objective context within our experience. And while these terms can convey much meaning, without defining what the context actually is, we limit ourselves in our understanding and communication with others leading them to simply say they agree instead of probing for deeper understanding.

The Negative Bias, or our tendency to have more awareness of ‘bad things’ is an attempt to gain knowledge about the world so we can navigate it free of the jarring effects of being faced with the unknown. As we discussed in the above Bias, the Fear of the Unknown is a powerful motivator. And in a sense, our desire to know about things which can be viewed as ‘bad’ is revealing our willingness to venture into the unknown. This is an indication we are ready to taste the truth. However, if we dwell , on ‘bad news’ it reveals we are CoDependent with meanings we deem ‘bad’ usually to confirm the belief: ‘the world is a fup place.’ The key is to ask yourself why you find ‘bad’ things in your experience desirable, and get to the root of your obsession. What is your world view? The answer to this question is at the core of this Bias. The more we expand our knowledge and link the pieces of truth together, the more we transcend such limiting world views.]

Bandwagon Effect

Though we’re often unconscious of it, we love to go with the flow of the crowd. When the masses start to pick a winner or a favorite, that’s when our individualized brains start to shut down and enter into a kind of “groupthink” or hivemind mentality. But it doesn’t have to be a large crowd or the whims of an entire nation; it can include small groups, like a family or even a small group of office coworkers. The bandwagon effect is what often causes behaviors, social norms, and memes to propagate among groups of individuals — regardless of the evidence or motives in support. This is why opinion polls are often maligned, as they can steer the perspectives of individuals accordingly. Much of this bias has to do with our builtin desire to fit in and conform, as famously demonstrated by the Asch Conformity Experiments .

[Our desire to ‘fit in’ is fundamental to the human experience. While we are Individuals, we are also a Human Family and our desire to feel connected to our fellow humans is a powerful motivator. When we cast the context of our personal truth in contrast to a group dogma, now we have the tension differential which leads us to subdue our personal experiences for a Group Bias. A research study was done to determine how often the average person lies and it was found that we lie or deceive an average of 3 times every 10 minutes. Within the Context of Group Bias, this is a result of our CoDependency with the sense of connectedness we feel towards others and groups at large. Lying, as a way to avoid sharing a truth which may disrupt another or cause your sense of connection to falter, is at the core of this Bias.

The key is to realize sharing of yourself, fully and completely will always create greater connections with others in the long term. However, in the short term, your candid expression of self may push others away who are not accepting of you and the truth’s you embody. This can cause a sense of loneliness which leads us towards going along with the crowd. But bravery in the face of such things, will not only transcend the addiction to social acceptance, but begin to transform the social group who is ostracized by your truth. A service to others modality of expression.]

Projection Bias

As individuals trapped inside our own minds 24/7, it’s often difficult for us to project outside the bounds of our own consciousness and preferences. We tend to assume that most people think just like us — though there may be no justification for it. This cognitive shortcoming often leads to a related effect known as the false consensus bias where we tend to believe that people not only think like us, but that they also agree with us. It’s a bias where we overestimate how typical and normal we are, and assume that a consensus exists on matters when there may be none. Moreover, it can also create the effect where the members of a radical or fringe group assume that more people on the outside agree with them than is the case. Or the exaggerated confidence one has when predicting the winner of an election or sports match

[Similar to Group Bias, but in reverse, our tendency to project our personal beliefs on to others presumptuously is at the core of a Projection Bias. This is in response to our fear of being ‘wrong’ which leads us to assume others agree by default. When errors in our understanding are presented to us we feel compelled to ‘force another to accept our beliefs’ even if they are inaccurate for the reality we are attempting to understand. The key to overcoming this bias is to first realize we do have the capacity to make mistakes, and instead of thinking we are ‘all alone’ in our process, realize we have an entire host of other beings who can assist us in our understanding. Holding up a flag of truth with Absolute Certainty is where most of us go astray. We tend to think in Absolutes instead of Probabilities because uncertainty is the unknown, and as we discussed above, fear of the unknown is an ever present obstacle in our human experience.

Instead, realize you cannot be absolutely certain about anything, and as such, holding your belief in the sphere of possibility allows you to remain open minded and receive new data without the Ego injuring effects which accompany absolute beliefs; because absolute beliefs are part of our Ego Identity. This is where our CoDependency with our ‘image of self,’ the ego, causes us to need agreement from others even in the face of great conceptual error. Other’s must ‘Cosign’ onto our beliefs so that we do not feel the emotional upheaval from being ‘wrong.’ Being Conscious of your uncertainty about a thing, which is then shared openly with others, allows you to not feel ‘wrong’ when being confronted by differing opinion. This skill of remaining Objective will empower you to avoid the Projection of your Bias onto others. If a belief is only possible , instead of absolute , it is not part of our Identity and is easily discarded for a better idea with out causing the trauma of feeling like we are ‘wrong.’

The Current Moment Bias

We humans have a really hard time imagining ourselves in the future and altering our behaviors and expectations accordingly. Most of us would rather experience pleasure in the current moment, while leaving the pain for later. This is a bias that is of particular concern to economists (i.e. our unwillingness to not overspend and save money) and health practitioners. Indeed, a 1998 study showed that, when making food choices for the coming week, 74% of participants chose fruit. But when the food choice was for the current day, 70% chose chocolate. [Codependency with ‘feeling good’ is a constant struggle in our human experience. Many of us are addicted to our emotions instead of being guided by them. Reacting to an emotional situation leads us to make choices in our present which hinder our progress in the future.

For example, most of us eat sugary foods in the morning which force the body to release Insulin to counter the toxic levels in our blood. This in turn, causes the mid morning ‘haze’ where we feel tired and unmotivated, leading us to drink energy drinks and even more sugary foods to ‘pep up;’ a constant roller coaster of energy and motivation ensues. In contrast, if we choose to eat fruit in the morning, or nothing at all (fasting till lunch time) our bodies will slowly release energy over time maintaining a constant energy level through out the day avoiding the pitfalls of low energy and motivation. It is easy to see with the above example that our addictions to ‘feeling good in the moment’ cause us all sorts of future hurdles. Therefore, the key to transcending this Bias is to be brave in the face of your emotional needs, and ask yourself what is the best choice long term? Eventually, we will begin to realize our needs for short term stability cause us long term pain , and a new ‘path of least resistance’ will emerge.]

Anchoring Effect

Also known as the relativity trap, this is the tendency we have to compare and contrast only a limited set of items. It’s called the anchoring effect because we tend to fixate on a value or number that in turn gets compared to everything else. The classic example is an item at the store that’s on sale; we tend to see (and value) the difference in price, but not the overall price itself. This is why some restaurant menus feature very expensive entrees, while also including more (apparently) reasonably priced ones. It’s also why, when given a choice, we tend to pick the middle option — not too expensive, and not too cheap.

[Similar to Justification Bias and Current Moment Bias, we tend to make choices based off a limited contextual framework; ‘cherry picking’ our reality to justify our beliefs. For example, if your friend has stolen from you in the past causing you to get upset, you may justify stealing from them in turn, even though you know very well how this can feel on the receiving end. The context of our decision making process is the key to undoing nearly all Biases. When you find yourself charged to make a choice in favor of a thing, take pause for a moment and attempt to look at the context from which you are viewing this choice. Just because your friend stole from you in the past, does not mean doing so now will make you feel any better; not to mention the problems you create for yourself with this person in the future. Instead attempt to harmonize your past experience with the present moment, and realize not stealing from your friend will set a new pattern of behavior. The key is to be brave and question your own justifications as to develop a holistic contextual framework which takes into account all possible outcomes and ramifications.]

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libermirror · 1 month ago

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Small Review of Egregrores by Mark Stavish

So, where do we start? Overall, this book seems similar in tone to other books written by Hermetic Authors where there is a bit of a 'I'm better than the rest of these religions because they're all for mindless sheep and I'm seeking illumination."

My brother in Christ, all organized religions are the same. They are pursuit of existential meaning in a world that is otherwise chaotic, random and very much impartial. You are no more different from the Buddhists, nor the Muslims, nor the Catholics, nor the Heathens. With the lack of a religious anchor, you are shrimply a fucknut.

That said, there are some parts of his writing that are grounded. The first is therapeutic blasphemy which is often found, or alluded to, in initiatory works and historical accounts of the 'Black Mass' and other such areas such as some sects of Tantra which work against norms in order to obtain a non-dual understanding, that is outside of dogma and perceptions of pure and impure.

Though, I would argue that thre is a very apinful excuse for understanding on Buddhism, and even Hinduism. Let us assume, for a moment, that he did actually study two seconds of Hermetic Philosophy - he would've at least had minimal exposure to the Hermetica which has an interesting line in Section 41 of the Perfect Discourse of Hermes Trismegistus which states:

"(...) Granting to us mind, word and knowledge: Mind that we may understand you; Word, that we may call upon you; Knowledge, that we may know you."

Which, quite essentially, supports thee meditations and symbology of the deities in Buddhism and Hinduism. There is not one part of their symbology, their mental form, that dos not have meaning and do not represent some aspect or nature of that deity being invoked mentally as the Yidam, the Guru or the Deity themselves.

Though, he also seems to take the Four Activities out of their context so I shouldn't be surprised.

Carrying on, he does mention the Egregore of Occult Circles which does have some basis - but maybe not in the way that he seems to think. There is the practice of Lineage, in which the various gurus are invoked, the deity of the gurus and the practitioners of the path. His prorposed link, as he so proudly proclaims, is less of link to the order and mor to thel ineage and transmission of knowledge. Initiatory works often act to open the person up to subtler experiences of spirituality, please see the Hymn to the Eighth and Ninth.

What makes life worse is that there are mentions of 'sirens' in the G.D and Thelemic Path, but they were largely external embodiments of internal temptations, in a similar way to to the forty days of Jesus in the Desert in which he had to overcome various human temptations through his projection of the Accusatory Figure. What further worries me is that this may have been a study, since the GD documents which i have read have made particular usage of Banishing and Cleansing Rituals which would've, to some degree, made the person less likely to have 'energetic parasites'. The closest thing I can possibly imagine is the movement through Da'ath in NOX in which Babalon is regarded as taking the lifeblood of the Aspirant, without sparing a single drop.

I will not even go into his usage of Mouni Sadhu as I know well enough that I don't like the man.

Then comes the issue of Demons and Daimonology which, quite frankly, annoys me. It is rather interesting how people will often make use of Abrahamic Demonology without a second thought or study into it and, as much as we can bash him, Crowley at least knew enough.

Oddly enough, he doesn't provide any role of evil (using the term spiritual snobbery later) but instead argues his own metaphysics of it. He then delves into everything from Television, Telepathy and Mind Control which, though well known, has little to no occult impact and is largely exposure and behavioural.

His whole writing just ... it irks me man. It's basically just some snobbish hermetic magician using Prisca Theologia to wipe his ass with other religions since they're simply different forms of the One True Theology given to Hermes Trismegistus and the First Sages and also the Great White Brotherhood.

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synonymouswithanonymous · 6 months ago

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Hermes part deux

@emi12ly

I don't mind at all! 😊

"she lied until the very end"

We really don't know it's a lie. I know others have said many reasons for why etc but I think about all the images i have saved. How many images were saved in total on Pinterest? I have too many.

I mean, sometimes I've downloaded the same image multiple times bc I liked the photo, then I have five copies of the same pic of the same animal or historical costume. I didn't remember having downloaded it before. No dementia etc, lol just 10,000 images saved on my phone. It's hard to remember each individual one.

Maybe the image got stuck in her head? Didn't remember. Maybe she was proud of it and the realization that it looked like someone else's made her sad? I dunno, as I said before it's imo not a big deal to me. Art is art, be creative and have fun. 😊 so for me it's not hard to be understanding when someone says it's a coincidence. I mean I can't prove otherwise so I take them at their word. I try to be understanding, I'm not perfect, I don't expect others to be either. I just try to relate or be understanding (except in cases of murder/rape/child abuse etc).

"important events as an opportunity for herself, it doesn't reflect well on her at all imo"

I disagree, I think it reflects well on her. I think you're right with this quote "You deserve the kind of career you can earn yourself. " but if you don't take and make every turn or event an opportunity.....did you earn it? Or did you squander an important moment or life changing connection over some misplaced sense of personal politeness? And as I said she was an asset for him. And I'm sure if anyone from Hermes said don't record, her phone would've been put up quick, bc you don't fool around with Hermes. They're legendary (and have power and prestige, that's why I'm confident if they weren't ok with being recorded they'd have said don't. And then they maybe wouldn't have left such a nice comment).�� But anyway, imo, wasting a great opportunity for the both of them like that, would have been foolish.

But I think JM has already established an awesome career by herself! She's got her education under her belt, Several musicals "she loves you" "Grease" "Atlantis" by her own talent. Two movies and nominated for awards before she even met AHA. She's been in so many musicals, concert specials. She got the lead in Askepot before call me dad was cast, so before she met him. Two tv shows out, and Wicked coming up! Imo that's an amazing, well established career. And I was glad to see an actor I think is really good/cool get with someone so accomplished! 😊 and not just bc she's beautiful (imo). So she didn't need him for a career boost, she had gotten 3-4 more thousand followers. But that's not a lot, but musical theater is sadly not as popular lol. Like gymnastics is popular, but sadly my favorite, rhythmic gymnastics isn't as popular. Haven't checked the Olympics schedule yet, but I bet it's on early morning or extra late at night. Sigh. But anyways like Broadway and Tony Awards aren't as big as Hollywood and the Oscars.

You have a great day! 😊😊

#aha asks #aha

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sunsburns · 1 year ago

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the search for glory

pairing: luke castellan x ares!daughter reader

summary: you're stubborn and relentless; he's calm and taunting. two opposites put aside their differences after years to meet in the middle to understand what glory truly means, and in the meantime, they start to question why drifted apart in the first place.

—or: desperate, you ask luke to help you learn how to fight with a sword so that you can be the best, he sees it as a way to spend time with you.

word count: 6.9k (i need help)

warnings: luke castellan, violence, long reading time, rivals to lovers, teenage angst, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, clairsse and annabeth being done with reader, percy and grover being the best duo, i used the fuck outta a thesaurus website, percy being head over heels for annabeth, kinda angsty ending... sorry not sorry!!

explicit warnings: allusions to sex, mentions of sex, kissing, kissing and more yearning!!!

a/n: luke castellan has been plaguing my mind. i need that evil man in my BONES!! INSTANTLY. charlie bushnell as ruined me like i need to remind myself who the enemy is like i'm tryyyinggg :( anyways this is a fic i wrote based on this request! i clearly got ahead of myself and once i started i couldn't stop. enjoyyy :)

You hate swords.

They were too long and heavy, an extra weight for you to carry on your body that only slowed you down. Your preferred knives, daggers you can throw with perfect precision, blades you can tuck in your boots and hide anywhere on yourself.

For years your ego had you refuse to ever touch a sword. You knew your weakness, and there was no need for anyone else to know.

"Again."

The rain pours nails against the trees. It's cold and seeping through your clothes, yet you are still outside, circling the head of the cabin and eldest son of Hermes in Camp Half-Blood. In the summer, there are storms so strong that pass by that not even the Mist can deflect. Luke Castellan has a smug glint in his eyes, directed at you, at the sword clutched in your hands and the way you still cannot control your swing. He's been trying to teach you the art of swordsmanship for days now, a necessity, he claims.

You only agreed because you thought you could've mastered it easily, much like everything else you've ever done in your life. You wanted to spite Luke and be the best, even where he thrives. But you were too rash, too much in a hurry to end things.

"Again." He repeats.

"No," you say.

"No?"

He almost laughs at you.

He's doing it to wound your pride, you know it. For years, Luke Castellan has been an itch on your back, crawling under your skin, setting everything in its path ablaze until there was a wildfire in the pit of your stomach.

"A daughter of Ares can't wield a sword?" He teases.

You take honour to your father's name. It makes you feel worthy of something, a strength that fuels your ambitions. Luke knows this; he had been there when you got claimed after a month of moping like a kicked puppy in the Hermes cabin. He'd seen the way it gave you purpose. He told you he had seen it coming from miles away--from the moment you first met eyes.

"You have the battle of fire in your soul," he said to you after the ceremony, and you never knew if he meant it endearingly or to mock you. You remember glancing at him, and the warm light of the lantern sitting on the dockside between you flickered before the flame cracked to life again. The moon hung low when he continued, "Now you need to find your glory."

And then Luke reached over to push you into the lake. You had grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, bringing him down with you. Luke spluttered when he emerged, shoulder-deep in the lake as he stared at you, hair dripping into his eyes, and oh, he was mad.

But that was years ago when you were kids.

But even then, you would have done anything for Ares. The loyalty you harbour for your father was one of the things Luke held against you. He hated it. You never knew why. You didn't care enough to ask him.

The blades of the daggers gifted to you by or father, Ares, burn against your skin, tucked away by your waistband as you tremble in the cold rain. Your fingers twitch, eager to grab and launch them in Luke's direction when he stands tall and repeats himself one more time.

"Again."

You leap at him. A shout rips from your throat as your feet stomp against the muddied ground, splashing over puddles while raising your arms to swing your sword at him.

Luke saw your attack coming from miles away. He swats you, kicking your stomach. It sends you to a tree trunk, your sword falling out of your hands. You were panting and shaking from the cold or anger or both. You slowly get back up on your feet, jaw clenched and knuckles white.

"Again."

"Fuck you!" You explode, walking angrily towards him. You've had enough of him and stood your ground. It's been hours. You missed dinner, and you were hungry and tired and sick of his shit. Once you're close enough, you shove Luke with all your might, and he stumbles into the mud.

It almost makes you smile when he looks up at you, his face twisting into something between shock and a tinge of annoyance.

"What's the point in all this, huh? Make me catch a fucking fever? Hypothermia?"

"You don't know how to use a sword," He says simply.

It spurs you further. "So what? I don't need a stupid sword to beat you."

He stays quiet for a beat, then two. The rain continues to fall as he looks up at you again, squinting as water falls into his eyes, dripping from his dark hair. "I know," Luke says. "You gotta do something about that anger, though. Restrain it."

You take a step back, watching him closely as he pushes himself back on his feet. "You said you wanted to learn." He tells you and picks up the sword you've discarded by the tree. Luke hands it back to you, shoving it into your hands. "So, I will teach you and you will learn."

The blade is heavy in your hands.

"Maybe after this, you'll be the second-best swordsman in camp."

Your eyes snap to him. "Second?"

He smirks, amused, "You didn't think you'd be better than me, did you?"

When you don't answer, his smile widens. Luke holds his sword up, nodding at you to step closer. "C'mon. Let's go again."

Lightning strikes as the metal of the swords clash against each other again. And again. There are grunts of effort coming from you, of exhaustion, and a great fury to see that Luke's barely broken a sweat, that he's enjoying every second spent with you under the rain.

With a gaze as sharp as your blade, you were fueled by the inexplicable thirst for excellence in swordsmanship; you know it was out of your expertise. Luke Castellan was the first person you turned to, despite your best efforts. And you're not surprised when he agreed, and he was shocked, yes, but he agreed nonetheless.

You only chose him because you knew he wouldn't go easy on you and that maybe, once you lash out at him enough times, stubborn, testing his patience, he would give up and leave you be.

But it's been weeks, and he's still here.

The clash of blades between you two isn't just about skill anymore; it's pride, it's a puzzle of the invisible line between the two of you, testing the boundaries, toeing at them.

And you still can't help but imagine the look on his face once you finally beat him. So you swing harder, move faster.

Luke has trouble catching you off guard or forcing you on the defensive side or even finding an opening to sweep your feet. But you were getting frustrated again, every time the two of you met in the middle, every time your shoes stepped into another puddle, every time he blocked your hits, or if the wind blew too strong. He finds your gaze when it happens, catching the way your lips twist into a deeper frown and the way your brows furrowed, how your jaw clenched and unclenched, huffing as you pick up your pace again.

In your haste to beat him, your restraint evaporates, leaving your movements once again sloppy and uncalculated. It isn't hard for Luke to knock the sword out of your hand, sending it flying backward. But you don't stop, you only grab his by the blade and throw it aside as well.

Before Luke knows it, your fist collides with his cheek. He blinks as his body registers the pain, wiping the warm wetness dripping down his nose. The rain washes the blood from his hands quickly.

His eyes trail up your tense form to settle on your face, then your eyes. His fingers flex in restraint against engaging in close combat with you. He knows he can't win this one. So he waits for the explosion that will come. And it does.

It comes in a blur of vengeful fists, kicks and grunts.

In a flash, he jumps back to avoid your hook punch, then your uppercut. He rolls to avoid your kick, but he doesn’t see your hands coming up to grab his throat and slam him back into the same tree he kicked you to.

Your hands are tight on his throat, but your rage blinds you to the knife he draws from your own waistband. In a quick motion, he slashes your forearm. You draw back your hands and release his throat at the same time.

Luke jumps out of the way. He sees the defiance in your eyes, as well as the satisfaction.

"What the fuck was that?" He sputters, tossing your dagger by your feet.

"Are you angry?" You taunt.

Finally, you think when you can see that familiar flare in his eyes once he realizes you've been meaning to rile him up. The same flare you saw when you dragged him into the lake with you. You tuck your dagger back in its place.

Luke crouches to pick up both swords again, then he throws one at you. "I showed you what restraint looks like. Lesson over." He wipes the blood from his face again, "Now, let me teach you channelled anger."

Whatever you expected, none of it prepared you for the beating you were about to receive.

The next morning, you owned bandages, bruises and healing cuts. Your foot bounces restlessly under the table as you glare at the breakfast in front of you. You have no appetite, not after last night, not after Luke had crushed every inch of your pride with every hit from the back of his sword to each time his blade would slice your skin just enough for it to leave a scar.

Clarisse was grinning, a wide knowing smile that sets your own teeth on edge when she sits next to you, your headache worsening when you catch sight of Luke slouched a few tables away.

He has a purple mark on the side of his face where you had hit him, his bottom lip split, and he has a bandage wrapped around his bicep. He doesn't look at you, eyes on his food, wincing.

It makes you feel better, knowing you had gotten a few good hits back before you threw your sword at him and stormed off.

"A little birdy told me Castellan could barely get out of bed today," Clarisse snickers. She reaches to your plate, taking a strawberry. She bites into it, humming while nudging your arm playfully.

You roll your eyes, "whatever Chris told you--"

"Annabeth, actually." Clarisse corrects you, her voice cutting through the air with a touch of authority. "She also told me she saw you two walk out of the infirmary late last night. Look, I know you guys are just sparring, but there's a line and you need to set limits and bring it down a notch. You're going to kill each other one day."

It's troubling when Clarisse, the epitome of combat resilience, steps in to address things that are becoming too violent. Her concern is a rarity, a signal that a boundary has been pushed. You do need to bring it down a notch. And you want to try. You really do. But there's this persistent itch in your bones, a phantom tug on your finger that refuses to let go.

"Whatever," you say, because you cannot find a way to explain it. You want to be the best, but Clarisse knows that. Everyone at camp wants to be the best, everyone has that craving for glory stitched into their veins with golden string. But your hunger doesn't stop there, you didn't want to be better than anyone, you wanted to be better than Luke. At everything he does.

There's an intangible presence that envelops Luke Castellan, an invisible aura that chases him through the air, and you're pulled to it with an almost magnetic pull. It's something you desire, something you want to claim as your own, willing to be consumed entirely by its intriguing draw. This unsaid yearning has been simmering in your mind from the moment he shoved you into the lake.

Last night, in the cold grip of the rain-soaked ground, whatever it is that chases him, slipped through your fingers. Your back against the wet earth, teeth chattering in the cold, you held your sword defensively, trying to fend off his strike from above. It was in that unsettling instant, as the rain mingled with the blood from a thin cut on your cheek, that you felt it—the pulse of something profound. That's your glory.

When he froze, your eyes brimming with angry tears, a sudden softening overtook Luke's face as he looked at you. For a fleeting second, you almost felt a twinge of remorse for your earlier outburst. That brief vulnerability, however, vanished as fast as it appeared. In the next heartbeat, your sword lay discarded on the ground, and the cold steel of his blade pointed at your neck.

"Honestly..." Clarisse starts, pulling you out of the memory. "The way you guys flirt is concerning. I think you just need to work out that sexual tension without killing each other." She grabs her empty plate and begins to stand. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't."

You would've laughed at her joke if you didn't burn at the insinuation of flirting. And sexual tension. With Luke fucking Castellan.

It makes you think of every time he's made you curse, scream, bleed, cry and laugh. You can't even say anything because Clarisse walks off, dumping her strawberry stems into the fire and disappears to meet Silena, probably.

Suddenly, you can feel your stomach twist into ugly shapes when you accidentally catch Luke's gaze. Of course. Just your luck. He's already looking at you when you're flustered. You bite down the inside of your cheek and start to stand, hoping Clarisse hasn't gone too far yet. Or maybe you could find Grover and see what he was up to.

The boy beats you to it, as always, already making his way towards you before you can even pick up your plate, still full of food.

"Hey," Luke says breathlessly. He looks smug as he stands in front of you. Too smug, you realize, for someone who has an equal amount of wounds as you do.

You hate it.

You hate his brown eyes, the way they catch the sun and look like honey. You hate the smattering of freckles he gets every summer, the scar on his face, the ones you know litter the rest of his skin. You hate his hair, how it falls into his eyes when he gets mad at you, how he gets too focused on you to push it back.

The way he holds the fresh ice pack between you irks you, a gesture that feels more like a taunt than sincere worry. "In case you need it," he says with a smile, and you can't help but think he's teasing, revelling in the fact that he got the upper hand last night. The unspoken message lingers—that you lost, that he's superior with a sword.

Nonetheless, a voice of reason nudges you to reconsider. Maybe just maybe, he's offering the ice pack out of genuine concern, untainted by the competitive undertones. Maybe you're reading too much into it, and his smile is merely a sign of kindness rather than a subtle mockery.

It still hurts your pride. "I don't want it."

"I didn't mean it like that," Luke says hastily, as if he can sense the turmoil of thoughts crossing your mind. "I just... I feel bad. I was too hard on you."

His words catch your attention, and you finally meet his gaze, a curt nod recognizing the rare admission of wrongdoing. It's remarkable for Luke to admit regret, and the weight of this confession lingers in the air.

"You were."

"But you can't really blame me," He adds. And, of course, he finds a way to turn it back on you. “You kinda started it."

"I know."

"So, I think we're even."

"You think?"

"You literally went ballistic."

You huff out a breath, annoyed, "I get it." And you finally take his stupid ice pack.

When he doesn't move, you look at him again, squinting at the early morning sun, "What do you want?"

He smiles again, swaying on his feet. "I'm taking a few kids hiking."

"Okay?"

"I need another counsellor to look after them. If you wanted to come with me," he suggests, the words carefully chosen.

"Why?" You raise a brow, hoping to hide your initial shock.

"Because the weather's nice," he shrugs, "And Annabeth said she found a waterfall somewhere off on the other side of the mountain and I've been meaning to check it out for a while-"

"No," you interrupt, shaking your head, "I meant why me."

Mischive sparks in his eyes, reminiscent of your earlier years at Camp Half-Blood, before you were claimed. Back in the short time when the two of you would wander away from the group, charting your own course, or setting up silly pranks for Mr. D. A particular memory resurfaces—your favourite prank involving filling bottles of wine replaced with soy sauce, left for the camp director to discover.

"For old time's sake." He says.

You're still apprehensive, "The last time we went hiking together, Chiron shunned us to the get-along-cabin."

It was three years ago, and you don't remember it as clearly as you hoped, but you can still recall teasing, poking each other with sticks, swearing and the nasty names, and racing to see who would find the young camper you lost first after spending ten minutes fighting over it.

Fortunately, you did find Apollo's young daughter, but not before rumours of a missing camper reached Chiron's ears. He had assigned you two cleaning jobs at the same time you were compelled to stay at the small cabin in the middle of the forest till you weren't neck and neck with each other.

"And that wasn't the best week of your life?"

You can't help but roll your eyes. "When are we leaving?"

Soon enough, you're busy smearing another layer of sunscreen on Grover's nose when Percy appears at your side.

Two groups of kids under thirteen had made it halfway up the trail, the sun lazy and warm, the way it could only be on a late morning hike. The kids are still quiet with sleep, trailing happily behind each other, trading secrets and sips of water with their assigned hike buddies.

It was nice. And a part of you was happy you've agreed to tag along. The smell of fresh pine needles, like forest floor and mountain air, makes you smile.

"Are you and Luke fighting?" Percy asks, twigs and leaves already poking out of his curls.

You finish patting Grover's forehead as you turn to the other boy with a soft frown, pulling out the small sticks. But the two kids stare up at you expectantly, as if waiting for some sort of answer.

"I don’t know if you've noticed, Percy, but Luke and I fight all the time."

Grover rolls his eyes as he falls back into step beside you, the three of you continuing up the path a little behind the rest of the group. But Percy tugs at your arm, clearly not finished with the conversation, nor satisfied with your answer.

"But that's the point," he says, and you huff as you pull him out of the way of a fallen branch, his attention focused too much on you to notice it in his way. "You haven’t been mean to each other all morning."

"Or called each other names," Grover pointed out from the other side of you.

"You call each other names all the time."

Annabeth Chase appears beside Percy, tucking her hat into her pocket as she sets you with a knowing look. Percy grins at the girl's arrival, cheeks pink as their shoulders brush together on the narrow path.

“So what?” you mutter.

You glance up ahead, over the crowd of children’s heads to see Luke bickering with the smaller kids, a boy from Dionysus' cabin poking him in the back with a long stick as he trudges behind them. You have to bite back a smile, but only because you had offered to lead with the younger kids, because you know they like you more than they like him, but Luke, stubbornly, refused your offer. He's an idiot.

"We're adults, we can call each other names."

Percy scoffs loudly, and all three kids stare at you, less than impressed.

“Have you and Luke ever kissed?” Grover suddenly asks, letting the words burst out from his chest like he knew he shouldn’t have asked.

You trip over a branch, the same fallen sticks that scattered the trail that you’d pulled Percy away from. You turn to look at the boy so fast that your neck protests, your eyes wide.

"Because Luke looks at you like he wants to kiss you all the time."

"Of course they've kissed," Annabeth grumbles. "Don't act all shocked," she tells you, "I watched you guys last night."

"Ew," Percy makes a face.

Annabeth wacks the back of his head, and while Percy winces, she continues, "Not like that. I noticed neither of you were at dinner. So, I went to check on you. I found them sparring."

"In the rain?" Grover's eyes widen.

"Stop stalking people, Annie," You warn, but there's no bite to your words.

"I'm being observant," she declares.

"It's definitely stalking..." Percy mutters, kicking a small rock down the trail.

She decides to ignore his remark this time and looks up at you. "I always thought it was ridiculous whatever you and Luke had against each other. I hoped you'd do something about it before you both imploded because you're too horny to come to terms with normal emotions."

Your jaw drops, a small noise of indignity and humiliation comes from you, and Grover looks mortified. Percy lets out a loud, obnoxious laugh, nearly doubling over as if Annabeth has said the funniest thing he's ever heard.

There's a faint smile on her lips when Percy puts his hand on her shoulder as his laughter dies to quiet, amused snickers. It eggs Annabeth to keep going, "I'm sure your kiss was romantic. Glad it took you guys a week of almost killing each other to realize you actually have feelings for one another."

You feel it again, that itch and wildfire that spreads in your stomach whenever Luke gets too close or says something that irks you. You find yourself fumbling with your words; no comment about how wrong she was, or how disgusted you were, or a snarky, awfully rude remark as a way to deflect. No, your voice starts to betray you. You only hope your father can't see you now as you grow flustered (this is something you will never admit).

"We never kissed."

Annabeth hums, raising one brow as she nods. She pulls her hat back out again, unfolding it as Percy drops his hand from her shoulder. When she looks at you, she has a similar smug look on her face, akin to the one that adorned Luke's face earlier that morning during breakfast.

"You know, Luke said the same thing when I asked him. But he never denied he doesn't like you, and neither did you."

With that, Annabeth puts on her hat and disappears.

You watch branches move and footprints left behind on the dirt in her wake, and you hate that Percy and Grover are smiling at each other as she leaves. They share knowing looks, speaking in a silent language only they understand and it puts you on edge.

Suddenly, you have to remind yourself that the kids are twelve. They have no idea what they're talking about.

Thankfully, Grover and Percy never bring it up again. It's as if they've forgotten about it after spotting a pegasus within the trees. Percy instantly named it Bob, and when Grover disagreed, he named it Peter.

"Seriously?"

Percy shrugs, "Spider-Man's cool."

When the group arrives, you still can't get Annabeth's words out of your head. It makes you uneasy, and you don't feel like yourself as you watch the kids gasp and gape at the sight of the hidden waterfall tucked away behind so many trees and bushes you would have thought it was sacred to Gaia. The waterfall appears to be any other cascade in a forest, but the fact that it is concealed under the Mist that protects the camp makes it so alluring.

It was peaceful but not quiet with the roar of water, droplets pattering against the rock at the bottom of the falls. All nature and life near the waterfall seemed to grow in size, and more birds called and sang—more snakes that twisted around the branches of the tall trees and frogs that softly croaked as they soaked under the cool water.

The afternoon sun sparkles over the water and the small frothy cascade of a plunge pool. Everyone starts to scatter, Demeter's children running off to climb trees, Artemis' kids rushing to chase after the few lizards and bugs tucked under wet leaves; they all find a place to be, one they all know they will thrive most in.

"Annabeth sold this place short. It's way better than she described it."

When Luke appears at your side, a conscious effort keeps you from growing stiff. There's an obvious warmth flowing from him, a subtle tug inviting you to come near him. But you resist, steadfast in denying yourself that proximity.

"Yeah. It's nice." You say, aiming to keep it short.

"Just nice? Is that all you've got?"

You shrug, crossing your arms around yourself. "It's okay." But the truth is, it's more than that. It's beautiful. Words fall short of capturing the essence of the waterfall before you, the mist delicately kissing your skin or the laughter of the kids transforming the wildfire in your chest into a warm and comforting glow.

Luke's brows furrow, tilting his head at you. "You okay?"

"I'm fine."

You're not. It has been hours since you've fought, yet you can't get it out of your head. Shit, you can barely go on with the day without someone reminding you of it; Clarisse, Annabeth and even your mind wanders back to it, how he's been so persistent in making sure you'll be able to wield a sword, a silent promise.

In all honesty, since you've started, you could barely recognize yourself, and you knew it had the potential to be disastrous, but you weren’t sure you disliked the feeling. It was just new (it really isn't) and foreign (you've known, you've just refused to accept it), and you felt like you had to go to it rather than run away from it.

When Luke utters your name, the resonance carries an unfamiliar softness and tenderness, diverging from any way you've previously heard him speak it. The rhythm prompts you to turn your head to look at him.

The sun, in its glorious descent, casts a warm glow across the water, creating a tapestry that highlights the tan of his skin earned through long days under its unforgiving rays. His hair, in a charming disarray, falls across his forehead, and within the depths of his dark eyes, a fondness surfaces.

"Something's bothering you," he observes.

It's a statement that goes beyond mere recognition; it's an acknowledgment of his innate understanding of you. His ability to see you. He wants you to know he can see right through you. That's his glory.

“And how would you know that?”

"Maybe because I spend every waking moment of the last, what, four years, in your close proximity." As for emphasis, he moved closer to you, as close as he was the other night but without the blades of swords between you.

You'd usually have countered, perhaps by tripping him or tugging on his ear to coax him to step back. But this time, you don't. You can't bring yourself to. You find yourself strangely incapacitated, torn between the impulse to push him away and the undeniable desire to punch him again.

"And don't forget that week in the cabin. Best week of our lives, right?"

It takes him some time to react, "Sorry did you just make a joke?"

“No. I’m always serious,” you don't concede, but you did suppress a smile. You turn the rest of your body, finally fully facing him. "Listen, Luke..."

He goes to say something at the same time, but he closes his mouth and looks at you. His eyes are wary of you. It was like he was expecting you to pull a knife out of thin air and attack him.

"LUKE!"

Percy Jackson's voice echoes, a thunderous announcement as he cups his hands around his mouth, sending a mighty shout from the waterfall's peak. Your eyes widen at Percy's reckless display, a mix of respect and wonder washing over you. The boy, sitting on the treacherous ledge, dares you to wonder how he managed to get up there. But knowing him, Percy Jackson finding a way to reach to the top of the waterfall makes perfect sense.

"LUUUKE! LOOK AT ME! GROVER!"

His voice carries a blend of disbelief and excitement as if Percy himself doesn't believe he's climbed to the top while he waves his arms. Luke steps away from you, moving closer to the cascading water out of concern. The other kids begin to gather, their curiosity piqued by Percy's boisterous display. Grover walks up to you, tugging at your shirt to bring you to the edge of the natural pool.

When Annabeth suddenly appears at Luke's side, you can hear him asking why Percy was up there.

"Well, he said he could flip off the waterfall. I told him he didn't have the guts. So, here we are."

"Reminds me of someone." Luke smirks, eyeing from where he stands, Grover grinning between you both.

Percy lets out a loud battle cry from the top of the waterfall, smacking his fists against his chest. A responsible head of cabin would have told him to get down, or else he would be shoving pegasus shit for the rest of the week. But Annabeth is the one who drove Percy to the top of the waterfall, and whenever you and Luke were together, everything else was a second thought.

The kids collectively ignite, encouraging Percy with animated cheers, urging him to jump. Stepping back from the edge, he bursts into a sprint, the excitement evident as he hurtles off the rocks. Percy's arms flap for a heartbeat before effortlessly accomplishing two flips, resulting in a thunderous splash as he plunges into the brilliant blue waters.

A symphony of cheers erupts, the youngest kids bouncing in excitement as Percy emerges from the water, shaking his head to rid his curls of excess water, a gleeful grin stretched across his face. His eyes meet Annabeth's first, and his wild grin widens as she nods in approval, her own smile radiating with bright satisfaction.

Grover is the next one to jump in, tucking his legs to his chest before gracefully splashing into the water beside his best friend. The infectious spirit of adventure spreads like wildfire, and soon, a cascade of laughter and giggles fills the air as all the kids join in, frolicking in the embrace of the water.

At that moment, you feel an unexpected force crashing into your side. It startles you, and you instinctively shove the prying hands away. It's only upon a closer look that you realize it's Luke. He's looking at you with raised brows in a way to taunt you.

You aren't arguing, not quite, not yet. But the buzz in the air still feels fun.

His expression suddenly turns playful. Without warning, he seizes your arm, yanking you closer. Luke grins, that wide, bright kinda smile that shows off the dimples you almost forget he has. He looks boyish like this, pretty in a way that's soft and full of sun. Maybe it's because he is looking at you without the lines between his brows, the downturn of his lips, a cold glare in his eyes.

The toes of his shoes teasingly brush against yours, prompting your chin to tilt up defiantly as you lock eyes with him. You can smell the forest on him, campfire smoke and pine, leftover rain and something minty. He looks too happy, excited even.

You narrow your eyes at him, gaze lingering on the bruise you left on his cheek. "You're wrong, you know."

Luke tilts his head, intrigued, "About what?"

"What you said earlier. About being even."

"Oh?"

You hum, a subtle melody lingering in the air, your hands resting gently on Luke's arms. His attention is diverted as he holds his breath, waiting for what you'd say next as he stares at the softness of your skin in the sun and the beads on your camp necklace.

In the midst of this, a wide grin flashes across your face, a mischievous spark in your eyes. A sudden, forceful shove against Luke's chest disrupts the moment. Caught off guard, he stumbles backward, tripping over his feet and thrusts into an unexpected fall.

He hits the water with a splash, and to the rowdy sound of whoops and cheers, a wolf whistle from Percy when Luke emerges, top soaked and clinging to the ridges and dips of his muscles, tangled at his waist.

He sputters as he stares back up at you in shock, treading the water around him. "Seriously?"

You're fucking joyous, wrapped up in the way everyone is laughing, and you don't break eye contact with the boy as you bend at the waist and hold your hand out for him.

"I'm sorry," you manage to utter amid giddy giggles. It's a peculiar sensation—this feeling of not quite being yourself. For goodness' sake, you're giggling! It's as if you've been gently enveloped by something sweet and affectionate, a touch so tender that it feels as if Aphrodite herself has graced you with a kiss on the cheek.

But really, it was Luke. He takes your hand and tugs hard, pulling you straight into the water with him. You hit the water on the side and swam back to the surface with a gasp.

He stares at you with a devious grin, daring you to do something about it. You push your hair out of your face and lung at him.

You have to admit, sparing in water isn't something you have ever done, and the attempts to avoid any of the kids are getting to you. You are better at hand-to-hand, but now Luke has the absolute advantage. His longer limbs allow him to move better and to pull himself up on rocky ground when you try to push him down.

He places you in a headlock and presses your back into his chest. You quit struggling at that point, knowing it was over for you. But he doesn't let go, and you don't move when he slightly loosens his hold.

You spot Annabeth's gaze from the other side of the pool. She sits by the waterfall with Percy and Grover, adorning a knowing look as she raises her brows at you again.

Both of you are panting from the effort, his chest heaves against your back, a synchronous beat. The water adds a chilly bite to your and Luke's skin, but his breath is warm on the crook of your neck. Usually, you would have tapped out, or more commonly flipped him over. Yet, you find yourself in a trance, and you don't understand why you can't move away.

Why can't you move away?

"Gotcha."

The faint chuckle in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

His breath stills on your neck, and you gulp. You clear your throat, and he drops his arm but doesn't step away, letting it hover around your waist. You laugh, and it sounds nervous, a soft noise of embarrassment, like a girl with a crush.

You don't know how to feel about it when you turn to face him, chests almost touching from the proximity, and so do your noses. You can feel your heart beating so loud in your ribcage that you think he can hear it too.

You can feel the sting of the cut on your arm, and it pushes you to ask, "Why'd you agree to teach me how to use a sword? Was it pity?"

It takes him time to answer, his hand brushes against your hips underwater, but he doesn't move it, and neither do you. The droplets of water on his skin sparkle under the sunlight. "No," He finally says after a moment. "Not pity."

"Why, then?" You ask, not looking away. "Wanted a good reason to beat me up without getting in trouble?"

He laughs a genuine burst of amusement from his lips that doesn't sound sarcastic for once. It's a great contrast to how he laughed the night before under the rain, where it was taunting and he was in his element, the thrill of a sword in his hands crushing his veins. Glory.

"Yeah, that's it."

You can't hide the smile growing on your face. "I knew it."

You float around each other in a few beats of silence, the chatter of children in their own worlds buzzing away. His hand caresses your shoulder like a feather, and you lean into his touch. It is familiar and comforting, and it makes you realize that you might have needed it more than you ever thought you would.

"No, uh," Luke shakes his head, and you find it endearing. He looks a little pink around the cheeks, his smile nothing short of scandalous. "I actually wanted to spend time with you. Fighting's just a bonus."

His admittion makes your mouth fall open. His teasing words are no longer a taunt, and the conversation is no longer an argument. Luke Castellan looks at you with the same fire he always had though, a challenge in his eyes that you desperately want to rise to.

"You like fighting with me?"

He smirks. "Best part of my day, honestly."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"What's next?" You tease, "Pulling my hair at recess?"

"Would that do it for you?"

"No," you whisper because you don't think your voice should be any louder when he's so close. "This works just fine."

His lips are lightly touching yours, hovering as a ghost of a desired kiss. You hold your breath and close your eyes.

Ever so slowly, he tips your chin up and leans in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. His free hand circles your waist and brings you flush against him as you curl your fingers into the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer to you. Luke gladly presses up against you, his fingers trailing from your chin and moving to curl into your hair, easily deepening the kiss.

Despite the prickling of your scars and the shallow cut in your forearm, you let yourself to the electric tingle of the kiss, the way it steals your breath and fills your chest with a million exploding fireworks.

You allow yourself a selfish moment to indulge in the way you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the barely-there press of his thigh between your legs, the scrape of his bandages beneath your fingers.

You're both crossing the unspoken line, his breath warm against your flushed skin. What happened to your pride? Your glory?

He pulls back, meeting your eyes again and gently combing your hair back. There's a sick smile plastered on your face, and you watch his lips turn up, dimples creasing his cheeks. You have a swell in your chest, and it makes you acknowledge that even if you never beat him with a sword, that satisfaction would never come close to this.

A chorus of "eww's" comes from the kids, only the twins from Aphoridite's cabin are kind enough to coo and "aw". And you have to take a moment to catch your breath, fingers slipping from his shirt when he drops his arms.

Luke lets himself fall back, the water lapping at his shoulders, and he grins at you, the soles of his feet brushing up against your thighs, just for a second. He clears his throat and lets his hot gaze linger on you for just a moment too long before he turns to splash water at anyone close enough.

"Mind your business, you little Krakens!"

You believe you've stumbled upon something greater than glory, a thought that's never once crossed your mind before Luke Castellan emerges as the sun illuminating your darkest nights. It's a poetic dance, a celestial symphony where every note he strikes resonates with the promise of warmth and brightness.

His laughter becomes the melody that accompanies your every step, and the moments shared feel like constellations etched against the canvas of time. Luke, the sun in your dark nights, bathes you in the comforting glow of his presence.

But there is an inescapable inevitability that shadows his light—a matter of time until the searing flames envelop you. A war catches on, and in its path, Luke Castellan sets ablaze everything his touch graces. He becomes the harbinger of impending reckoning, and you will be forced to pick up a sword once again.

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humburgerr · 1 year ago

Text

The Maiden’s Dart (a Percy Jackson fanfiction, first part of the “Sacred Blood” series)

Chapter 1: (LEA) “Welcome to my life, I guess…”

I don’t hate flying.

Like, really, flying is cool: I was six when I first had a plane ride. I recall quite clearly how amazed I was when I glanced out of the window and I saw the mountaintops deep below us, and I will never forget how excited I was, two years later, when dad decided to take me horse-riding with him. The old black pegasus neighed quite a bit when the both of us settled on his back, my father’s arms around me, so that I wouldn’t fall off, as he laughed.

- Blackjack, you know that doughnuts aren’t good for your health! - He told the pegasus.

Then, uncle Jason’s strong grip around me as we darted across the sky Superman style, feeling the cool breeze of Summer’s clouded evenings and joking and laughing…

Yeah, flying is cool, a lot of my good memories are associated with it.

Does that mean I love flying?

Hah, nope.

But let’s start by the beginning of the story, shall we?

It all started last winter, when Athena, my divine granny and caretaker had the incredible incredibly terrible idea that I somehow needed to start practicing early to get my driving licence as soon as possible when I turned sixteen.

Now, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea, right? WRONG.

The thing is, although in the last thirty years or so the gods tried to be closer to their half-blood children, and although many of them actually became better parents, they - being these immortal, super-powerful cosmic beings - still had some trouble actually understanding the way mortal bodies worked, and how many limitations they actually had. They just assumed we had been much like minor deities all along, minus the immortality feat and the sick powers.

So, like, if the King of the gods lost his Master Bolt, none of them saw a gargantuan logic fallacy in assuming that it had been stolen by some weird kid with ADHD. Hermes had stolen Apollo’s cattle mere hours after his birth, after all.

You can imagine the shock when Will Solace, the newly appointed GoAT (as in Godly Anatomy Teacher, and not Mr. Underwood’s lower half) explained to them how slowly human grew up, and how they had to learn everything from scratch. Oh, the look of absolute horror on the gods’ face when they learned that humans shed their first set of teeth and grew new ones.

Now, most of the gods were taking these anatomy lessons very seriously, but some of them… well, let’s say that some gods really liked to skip class.

Granny Athena was one of the latter. Being the goddess of knowledge, she felt extremely disgusted by the thought that she would have needed to learn something - anything - from a mere mortal. Being the goddess of wisdom, she also should have known better than to give up a chance to expand her knowledge.

If you know Athena, however, you probably also know that she is prideful. Too prideful for her own good, I might say (but I won’t).

Anyway, one morning I woke up with the goddess of wisdom storming into my bedroom, up in Mt. Olympus. If I had been a bit more awake and in control of myself, perhaps I would have suppressed it, but given that I had woken up in that same instant and my brain was still set in “this is a dream, you can do whatever you want” mode, I gave her a quick look and burst out laughing right at her face.

She was dressed like a traffic officer, with the uniform and the plastic helmet over her head, the white gloves and the traffic signs hanging from her belt, right near a plastic walkie-talkie. The fact is, the uniform was too perfect, the helmet a bit too shiny, the boots looked like they had never seen a real road in their entire life. She looked less like a real cop and more like a silly tv advertiser, one that stood near a row of happy children traversing the road and said to the camera something like: Make people happy, join our lines! It will be fun, I swear! The kind of propaganda that would have won over the kids in New Rome after like three seconds.

Athena gave me one of her bad looks, and I thanked the Universe that she wasn’t the goddess of gravity, because otherwise my entire body would have been completely splattered all over the pristine clean marble floor. However, her glance still managed to send shivers down my spine and to make my laughter run straight back into my throat.

Finally, she averted her eyes and I started breathing again.

- Gra… Lady Athena. - I caught myself before calling her granny.

- Achillea, - my full name felt like an icy stab in the gut, and she probably noticed, because her voice slightly softened - get dressed, Hatchling. We are going out for a while. I’ll wait for you in the throne room.

Then she vanished into thin air, like she had never been there.

I stared at the door for what felt like a solid minute, with my brain whispering in my ear that it would’ve been pretty sweet if I put my insomniac butt back to sleep. I agreed with my brain for maybe half a second, then the look in Athena’s eyes came to haunt my mind again, and I got out of bed.

“But the pillows! - My brain pleaded - The soft blankets!”

“I know buddy. - I told my brain - but we heard sweet old granny.”

My brain fell silent, which, me being me, was a pretty common occurrence.

The moment my bare feet touched the floor, invisible hands began to fold the blankets, straight up the pillow and generally remake the bed. The maids talked to each other in a sweet, low hum, their words so whispered that I had trouble hearing the full sentences. I cleared my throat, and they became perfectly silent, and totally still, I could guess, since I couldn’t hear their soft breeze anymore.

- Well, guess I’ll be going to take a shower and get dressed. If you need anything, you know where to find me.

I was about to leave the room, when one of the maids spoke up.

- M’Lady, - she started, and by the low hum of her voice, I could identify her as Mia, the First Maid - Lady Athena has sent another servant to your baths.

My veins frosted.

- What.

The maids started whispering to each other, and even tho I couldn’t fully hear them, I picked up a few words: angry… spite… punishment…

It took me an instant to put two and two together. They feared I was angry, and that, since I couldn’t lash out at my divine granny, I would punish them instead. It took me slightly more to realise that I spoke to them in a cold, firm tone, and that I unconsciously channeled some of my power to make that sound even more intimidating.

I regained my cool.

- Hey girls, - I said in a much more informal tone - I didn’t mean to scare you, really. And I am not angry. Neither towards you, nor towards my grandma. It’s just that I felt… surprised.

Surprised wasn’t the word I was thinking at. And, to be fair, I was hating Granny Athena a little bit, but I wouldn’t have dared to punish these friendly spirits just for that.

Mia spoke again.

- If it displeases you so much, M’Lady, I could still tell the servant to leave the place. We truly understand, that after what happened with Rya-

- That was just an incident! - I interrupted her, careful, this time, not to scare them anymore - It was just an unhappy incident.

None of them replied, and if I must guess, they all nodded in agreement.

I waved my hand, and left them to their tidying.

My bedroom was on the farthest side of my small apartment, which was on the farthest side of Athena’s palace, on Mt. Olympus.

Perhaps you might really want to know why I live in Olympus, and not at Camp Half-Blood in New Athens, with the rest of my family? Am I, maybe, a goddess? Did I give up my mortal shell to bloom into a beautiful, undying being?

No, I am very, very human. And well… to say it with an understatement, it is fairly complicated. I didn’t choose to live here, not exactly. It just came with the age, I could say. One day Athena showed up in our living room and demanded for my mom and my dad to give me to her. I don’t remember the details, because as soon as the conversation heated, mom sent me and my big brother, Michael, to play outside.

Then, Athena came out, told me to pack my things, and we both disappeared from our backyard in a ray of cold light.

The End.

Now, now, I can imagine what you are thinking: “OmG LEA WerE yOu AbDUctEd?”

No, I don’t think so. Well, at least I hope not.

From what Athena told me after that, my parents were having troubles with me: my powers were too great, and they were showing up too fast for them to really be prepared to handle the situation. They, however, were stubborn. They really didn’t want to let go of me (and can you really blame them?) but at the same time they didn’t know what to do. Basically, things were getting really dangerous. For me, and for those around me. That’s when my grandmother stepped in and decided to take matters into her own hands.

So, I get to see my parents and my brother during summertime and during mortal festivities such at Christmas and Easter and so on. For the rest of the year, I stay up above the clouds with the gods. I guess I should consider myself lucky, because at first Athena wanted me to stay up here all year round, and trust me, you don’t want to stay up here all year round. Everyone who stayed beside the gods nonstop would either go insane or become as petty as them. And I sincerely can’t decide what might be worse.

Anyway, my apartment had a circular shape, like a Thòlos, although I preferred to think of it as a Monòpteros, the latter not being the direct definition of a Micaenean tomb.

The main walls were surrounded, on the outside, by a circle of twelve white marble columns, each of one bearing the vessel of a different Olympian. It was supposed to be some sort of protection (I didn’t dare to look into it), but to me it mostly seemed like each member of the gods’ Assembly had tried to claim a part of the house for themselves.

On the inside, it was much more cozy: the Central Room’s marble floor was enchanted so that it could appear like any type of pavement i could wish for, and most of the time it showed a forest soil filled to the brim with beautifully colored leaves, like the ones that fell from trees during Fall. As I walked through, however, I noticed that the floor was showing a different scene: sand. Beautiful golden sand, ad if I looked hard enough, I could even spot a seashell here and there. This made me smile. Christmas time was near, and with that, my homecoming was drawing closer at hand. I already felt nostalgic.

As I passed by, I waved my hand at the little girl who tended the fire, right in the middle of the room.

She somehow had the power to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She was right at the Heart of Olympus, in the Throne Room, to make sure that the gods got at least a bit along, and then she was in her own small temple in New Athens, where old campers could ask for guidance of just stop by to have a little chat. She was in Camp Half-Blood’s dining hall too, making sure that all offerings would be split up evenly among the gods.

Hestia wasn’t a difficult goddess, and she didn’t play favourites.

She simply took good care if the fires, and showed up wherever she felt like she was needed.

Since that day of almost eight years ago, when Athena brought me to Olympus with her, the goddess of the Heart stood by my side every single day.

When she didn’t respond to my greeting, I instantly knew something was wrong. Upon closer inspection, in became clear that something was bothering her. She was looking deep into the flames with a frowned expression. No, not just frowned. I knew that something else was happening, that she wasn’t simply looking at the flames, she was seeing straight trough them, as if they were some sort of holo-screen that let her browse for informations.

- Lady Hestia! - I called for her, managing to get her attention, if only briefly - Is everything all-right?

She looked at me wide eyed for a single second, and then she turned back to the fire.

- Oh, good morning dear… - she said with a soft voice that immediately warmed my heart - Yes, everything’s okay, why shouldn’t it be? Don’t worry, dear. Athena’s waiting for you.

She said nothing more, and focused back to the flames.

Don’t worry. As if. The thing about Hestia is that she is so genuinely kind that everyone among gods, demigods, and even some monsters, tends to grow quite fond of her. This means, obviously, that if Hestia has a problem, it becomes everyone’s problem. Because no-one, no-one, wants to see Hestia suffer.

As much as I wanted to help her, however, I figured that wouldn’t be of much aid if my grumpy granny turned me into dust for being late, so I headed for the bathroom.

As soon as I entered, she smell of saltiness spread through my nostrils, and I felt like I was standing right on the seashore. The bathroom’s walls were painted pearl-pink, with sea-green marble furniture. The style was a strange mashup of minimalism and ancient greek sculpture, which made the gods’ bas-relieves carved into the sides of the sink and the bath tub seem like strangely shaped stick-men. The scene of Stick-Apollo fighting Stick-Hercules over a tripod had ben carved right into the lower half of the toilet, and I was been pretty sure that it had been Artemis’ idea.

When I looked at the figure of Stick-Hercules, my brain sprung shortly back to life.

“That’s where you belong, you scumhead!”

Then it fell asleep again.

I flinched, and for a short instant my hands trembled. A familiar sense of headache pierced my head, as if I had just forgot something vital.

Then I shook my head, and the sensation was blown away like petals scattered by the wind.

Something moved at the side of my vision and I reacted faster than I could think. In the blink of an eye I found myself with one hand pressing against a girl’s neck, and the other closed in a fist, fully loaded with adrenaline and ready to strike right at her solar plexus.

- Oh my gods! - the girl squeaked, barely able to hide the rush of terror that had clearly taken her - Do you try to kill every maid that Lady Athena sends you!?

I blinked a couple of times, while my brain translated those words into informations. Then I paled, and let her go. I hadn’t even realised that I had pinned her against the wall.

- Oh my… I’m so, so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to-

I tried to mutter some apologies, but she raised her hand to stop me, and released a long, shaky breath.

- No, no, that’s okay I guess. Lord Poseidon had warned me that you were quite the wild horse. I don’t know why I dared to expect to meet you in a different way.

When she named my godly grandfather, I took a step backwards and took a good look at her.

She was slightly taller than me, probably by an inch or two, and her skin was grey. She had wide eyes, perhaps a little bit too wide, and they were totally black. She was slim, athletic, with large shoulders and long, webbed fingers. Each of her nails was carefully painted with stylised images of fishes. She had long, kelp-like hair, although this specific type of kelp was bioluminescent and gleamed neon blue light.

She wore a simple blue chiton, and nothing more.

- A nereid - I guessed. A very strange nereid. But I kept the last part for myself.

- Yep.

After a moment of awkward silence, I extended my hand.

- I imagine you already know my name, but please, do not call me Achillea, nor M’Lady. Lea is good enough.

She studied my hand, probably wondering if it was poisoned or boobytrapped with invisible fart-trinkets, but then she shook it with some good energy.

- Ichtya. And don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on calling you M’Lady anyway.

After this first bizzarre encounter, Ichtya the fish nereid and I got to work. I made instantly clear that I was pretty capable of showering by myself and that, no, she didn’t need to clean my butt for me. What she could do, however, was to help me with the scheduling of the bathroom. It wasn’t much, just preparing my toothbrush while I was busy in the shower, putting my laundry right at hand’s reach while I dried myself… as I said, small things that gave me a few seconds of advantage.

- Thank you, really. - I said while she brushed my hair, a task that I was never capable of bringing myself to do.

Her cheeks assumed a slightly darker shade of grey.

- No need to thank me. - She said, but I could feel she had very much appreciated the gesture.

I took a moment to look at my reflection in the mirror: a blonde, sea-green eyed five and an half feet tall girl looked back at me. The girl’s lightly tanned skin, my skin, was full of old scars and bruises, and a sea of clear freckles spread around my nose and my shoulders. The fact that I could see them, even if with some difficult, made my mouth twitch. I looked at my athletic, slightly muscular body for a more few seconds, then I reached out to Ichtya.

She handed me the white, simple peplum, and helped me put it on. The fabric immediately shifted and began to change. The tickling sensation almost made me laugh again. And then I found myself wearing a pair of worn-out light grey jeans and a sleeveless blue T-shirt with a black hippocampus printed on it.

- Wow… - Ichtya whispered, amazed - You really wear these things on a daily basis?

- Uhh… yes? Why shouldn’t I?

She looked embarrassed.

- The only being I’ve ever seen wearing mortal clothes was Lord Poseidon, so I just thought… well…

She didn’t dare to finish the sentence, but she didn’t need too. I nodded sympathetically, imagining a world where everyone wore gross Hawaiian shirts and crocks. The thought alone made me shiver. The girl really needed some good shopping time. This was the least I could think of to restore her faith in humanity.

Then I remembered good old granny, and I left the nereid to her new duties.

Thank the gods I was very, very fast. A normal person would have needed at least thirty minutes to traverse the Olympian Gardens at full running speed. I jogged into the Throne Room in half the time, and yet when Athena looked up from the anatomy text she was reading, I knew that I still was about to get scolded.

- You’re late. - She said. And that was all. But she didn’t need to say anything else. Her cold voice had been harsh enough tor me to tremble before her. I nodded, trying not to look at her in the eyes, but it was impossible. They were like magnets.

As she got up from her throne, I gladly saw that she had changed: instead of the silly advertiser uniform, she now wore her usual sleeveless peplum, adorned with glittering gold edges.

Her stormy grey eyes were still fixed on me. She wore her raven hair down on her shoulders and her pale skin radiated a weak, cold light, that conferred her a certain holiness. If anyone saw me and her side to side, they would’ve never guessed that I was her daughter’s child. Athena looked young enough to be beautiful and old enough to be considered wise. I knew that gods existed in many planes of reality at once, and so that people could see them in totally different ways, but to me she looked like she was in her mid-thirties. An high-school teacher, perhaps. A very lethal high-school teacher.

I averted my eyes from her, and glanced around.

Hestia took care of the Heart, but aside from her, and us, the room was completely empty. As Athena advanced in my direction, her form shrank, until she was about the same size of a normal young woman. She reached her hand out.

I gulped, and then I took it.

Her light blinded me, and the next second we were standing in front of the Bestiarium, the chamber of beasts and monsters. One of the strange additions of my mother’s design, after the Second Titan War.

- Why? - I asked.

- Lesson One. - The goddess replied, before pointing at the enormous bronze doors that towered before us.

They must have been at least sixty feet high, and were adorned from top to bottom with figures of monsters and other mythological creatures. Unlike the ones in my bathrooms, these bas-relieves were so realistic that I almost feared the hellhound would detach from the doors and launch itself straight at me.

- Lesson One? What does it mean?!

The doors opened soundlessly, and the goddess of wisdom escorted me inside.

- It means - she said as we passed through a corridor that was as large as a football field and seemed to have no end - that you will be sixteen soon, Hatchling, and as soon as you age properly, you’ll have to get your godly license.

- My what?!

- Your godly driving license. - She explained, while we walked past one of the cages. The Hydra inside raised her fourteen heads and looked at us, then she went back to sleep.

Athena kept talking.

- Every god has one. Without it, we would be legally restricted from performing air travel, or flying around the world with our godly mounts. Demigods usually do not need it, because they never fly that high, and there is only that much speed that a pegasus can take, but there have been certain… cases… when we had to make an exception.

She then fixed her eyes on me, and I squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. She kept staring, as if she truly believed that I could give her the names. We walked in silence for another minute, while I tried to remember some of these so called ‘cases’.

- Uhmm… - I said at last - … Phaethon?

Athena nodded.

- That guy was a total mess. - She recalled - He tried to drive the Sun Chariot even before we could give him his first class. You have no idea of how enraged Zeus was when he saw that punk on the heavenly roads.

- Phaethon was a son of Helios, right? - I asked - He set the sky ablaze and created the Milky Way.

- And my father blasted him out of the skies with one of his Bolts. Helios was fired and Selene resigned in protest, and the chariots were inherited by the twins. That - Athena said - had been a very messed up week.

- Anyone else that you remember? - She asked.

I frowned, and then a name came up in my mind. Yes, obvious. It was one of the most famous stories.

- That guy with Pegasus. The one that slew the first Chimera. The one that murdered Bellero, king of Corynth, and took his throne.

Athena’s lips curved slightly upward, and she nodded in agreement.

- His true name was Hipponoos, but people still remember him as Bellerophon, ‘Bellero’s Murderer’. He was one of mine, you know. I gave him the license myself. He was intelligent, knowledgeable. He became a worldwide known hero, who even managed to tame Pegasus himself. He could have lived as a king, but his hybris got the hold of him. His arrogance drove him to think that he could reach the gods, that he could fly even higher than us. Father didn’t like that, and neither did I.

She didn’t need to tell any further for me to know how the poor guy met his demise.

I recalled that one time when Grandpa Poseidon held a meeting with the immortal lord of horses: Pegasus had strange, long scar lines all’over his hide, that reminded me a lot of lightning streaks. Now I knew how he got them.

We walked side by side, and I listened to the many stories she told me. It felt less like a lecture and more like a deep dive into the clean waters of the past. Her tales flooded my mind: tales of demigods and mortals who dreamed of the stars, and tried to reach them in so many ways.

She told me of the first hot-hair balloon, of the Wright brothers and of Leonardo’s tragic attempt at rebuilding Dedalus’ wings. She told me of long dead children and of many former lovers of hers.

Then we stopped.

- Here we are - I heard her say - hi Glaux, long time no see, huh?

[END OF CHAPTER 1]

#percy jackon and the olympians #rick riordan #annabeth chase #legacy of gods #pjo #hoo #fanfic #fandom #fantasy #original character #oc #poseiden #athena

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