#son of apollo who cannot heal to save his life but can music and archery like a god

[sunarin4256]

TWST Demigod headcannons

Heartslabyul

Riddle: unsurprisingly son of Apollo. His father is the god of music, medicine and archery as well as God of the sun. Surprisingly, Riddle's specialty was not medicine, much to his mother's chagrin. He is an exceptionally skilled archer and a decent musician, unfortunately Riddle is more likely to take a life by accident trying to save it than save it. Because that is the curse of Apollo children; you're excellent at one thing associated with him, so so at another, and absolute dog water at the third.

Trey: Son of Demeter. He is skilled with plants and has his own garden. That's why his sweets and treats are so delicious, because most of them have fresh grown ingredients, that are probably laced with the blessing of a Demeter's child.

Ace: Now based on his behavior , one might assume he's a child of Hermes. But you're wrong. He's a child of Apollo, like Riddle. However he excels in music, but don't hand him a bow and arrow, he'll end up hitting everything but the target. All the traits that make him seem like a child of Hermes were things he learned from his older brother who is a child of Hermes.

Deuce: our little loosey deucey is a son of Hades. I like to believe that the main reason for his abundance of fights in middle school were due to broken oaths, promises and lies; the things Hades and his children, do not like. Now in consideration of the big three Hades happens to be the shortest. while most of his kids have inherited his short gene, Deuce didn't, he got the blind gene. Most days he wears contacts, but on the off chance he's wearing glasses, leave the poor dude alone his head hurts from wearing contacts for two weeks straight again. He's always on time to class and it freaks people day that he seems to appear from shady corners, which he does, children of the underworld are able to do something called shadow travel, which kinda speaks for itself. Now unfortunately children of Hades do not regain strength in a similar fashion to other demigods. While other demigods use nectar and ambrosia to heal, children of Hades need sugar, this means he constantly has some sugary drink on him, which actually infuriates Riddle to no end.

Cater: son of Dionysus, the god of wine, theater and dolphins(don't ask) the train Carter is able to mask his sadness so well is because his strong suit is acting. Cater has a thing for grapes, it kinda just sits in his decor without his notice. When he avoids juice because if he gets mad near it it ferments so it either makes alcohol and he gets in trouble or it makes stinky old juice.

Savanaclaw

Leona: son of Thanatos. Now one might think that his napping habits would warrant him a spot in cabin 15 (Hypnos cabin) but you are incorrect. He's a child of Thanatos, the incarnation of death, which is pretty befitting considering how his unique magic basically makes him that in his home. When not under the spell he's under, causes him to take on his cousin's(child of Hypnos) exhaustion -because they work at a pace and schedule that all the sleeping they would usually do cannot be done- Leona is a diligent and hyperfocused worker. That's the reason he passes his classes now. He, as a child of the underworld, is capable of shadow travel and uses it to avoid ruggie- it's dumb cause he can do it too- and find peaceful places to nap away from rook.

Jack: son of Aphrodite. Now alot of people at camp assume he's an Ares camper, as a matter of fact it's what he assumed (and secretly hoped for)when he got there. However when he was claimed by his mother he wasn't upset. He is a very standoffish person due to the nature of being a child of Aphrodite. Most people assume they're a bunch of superficial bimbos (some of em are, but don't tell anyone Jack said that) so it always shocks them when they find out jack is one of them. The reason people are drawn to him is due to his godly parentage and it causes him to ward away anyone who approaches him. But underneath all that rough and tumble he's a big sweetheart with a soft spot for plants, romance, and a good bubble bath.

Ruggie: son of Hades. Now THIS is one of the Hades kids who inherited the short gene. He's small dark and cunning, sure to the way he grew up most assume he's a son of Hermes, but he just can't help but steal stuff (unfortunate kleptomaniac) he loves pomegranates the smell and the taste. He always smells like the fruit and is nearly always holding one. One thing that freaks people out about ruggie is that he seems to always be talking to air. What they don't know is that ruggie can see and communicate with the dead. He ends up talking to students' passed pets and/or family members half of the time. Since he's a child of the underworld he's capable of shadow travel, but doesn't really use it unless he's struggling to find Leona, in these cases he flips down on top of (to be a nuisance) or beside him and chows down on the pomegranate he'd stowed in his pocket.

Octavinelle

Azul: son of Athena. Why do you think he's so dang smart? Everything is essentially a battle strategy to him which makes it easier. The main reason he was bad at school in his formative years before he started going ham with the studying was because he was dyslexic. He still is but reading is easier now. Is oddly attached to the moon. When nervous or overstimulated he tends to burst into random ancient Greek.

Jade: son of Zeus. I know he's afraid of heights but it's funny. When he gets upset(very rarely) storms begin brewing. Seeks out the rain eagerly during storms. Had accidentally zapped people in a pool due to extreme excitement (we all know Jade doesn't express himself often so that zap was all the excitement showing itself)

Floyd: oddly enough soon of Poseidon. Crazy to think the twins have different dads. Anywho, Zeus can't tell the two apart so Floyd is the only non Zeus big three kid that's safe in the sky. He lives the ocean and loves water in general, thought it was normal to talk to regular fish as a kid until he beat another mer up for making fun of him for talking to regular fish. Bro was flabbergasted when he found out he could speak to horses. Visits the equestrian club solely for the horses. His mood changes like the tide.

Scarabia

Jamil: son of Aphrodite. First of all, you should have seen this coming- look at him... He's gorgeous. His unique magic is actually a branch off of his demigod powers. Being a child of Aphrodite granted him the power of charm speak. This means that any and all people without the power or any power adjacent to it, that are attracted to men (crucial detail) are able to be... Persuaded to do or say anything he asks of them. he's also blessed with the ability to rock any outfit/hj

Kalim: son of Hephaestus. He's loud and optimistic, but also extremely innovative. Builds little mini machines when he can't sit still. sweater pockets are constantly filled with little mini gears. He is extremely kind hearted and it shocks other Hephaestus kids how he is based on his upbringing. Is nearly always covered in oil or soot when not around his family or at school. Has built Lilia a fully functioning guitar with no explanation for his birthday.

Pomefiore

Vil: child of Hypnos. It's funny because what his father does best is sleep and vil is far too busy to do that so all the exhaustion he has is transferred to his cousin, (Leona), which is why he sleeps like the dead at night. He loves a good spa day (because he naps most of it)

Rook: son of Zeus. Kind of explains his creep tendencies. Loves the sky more than anything and spends time frolicking in thunderstorms. Flies way too high on the broom without a care in the world, casually drops from the sky for funsies.

Epel: son of Pluto. Hates broken promises. When he's nervous or upset gems and precious metals tend to pop up at his feet. Sometimes shadows are shifty near him and it freaks people out. Loves flying in his broom but is terrified of going into the sky (Zeus will strike all who are his brothers' children down) loves working on the orchard, is terrified of killing the trees in an emotional outburst.

Ignihyde

Idia and Ortho: legacies of Pluto. They're both descendants of a child of Pluto. That might explain the flaming hair. But it also explains idia's paleness. Idia wants so desperately what every child of the underworld can do, to melt into the shadows, however his hair puts him at an advantage because he creates constant shadows that he has complete and total control over. I can't say much for Ortho but he had powers unknown before... The accident.

Diasomnia

Malleus: son of Neptune. When he gets upset bro accidentally conjures a full on hurricane. Constantly smells like the ocean despite never having been there. If he angry laughs the ground trembles. As a dragon he's able to fly but doesn't because.... Well Zeus. Doesn't really understand the appeal of land, has tried many times to escape the castle for the sole purpose of getting in some kind of water (he failed miserably)

Lilia: son of Hades. You want to know how he appears behind people? Now you do; shadow travel. Is a hater of broken promises. Knows where his kids are because of the shadows. When he's pissed things die... Plants, animals... The odd person. Nothing too bad. Loves his little brothers with his whole heart. Likes tomatoes like ruggie likes pomegranates.

Sebek: son of Mars. It explains his amazing fighting prowess and his capacity for war plans. Rides horses because they're crucial to war but prefers spears to swords (he would never tell Lilia that) and enjoys sparring with Silver for the occasional jolt.

Silver: son of Jupiter, champion of Pluto. While he's a son of Jupiter, giving him control over the wind and sky he prefers the darkness, mostly because of how he was raised. Pledged himself to Pluto to remain with Lilia (Lilia's father was rather touched to say the least [he cried like a baby in pure joy for his son]) it's hard to piss silver off but once he's mad a tornado is forming. When he's pissed he takes everybody out. Has zapped Sebek while in a stream as children and got thoroughly praised for it oddly enough. Has fallen asleep in the sky.

[send-username-suggestions]

FMA/PJO Fusion/AU Idea

Edward Elric

He was never seen to play music or sing or dance. His skill in archery was non-existent, and his skill in medicine would always be rudimentary at best. He held in common, no ability that could be found among his siblings, and while lacking in common talents, he held a great intellect which he was known for and was often mistaken for a son of Athena. If not Athena, perhaps he was a son of Ares, for he was skilled in battle and belligerent in nature. Even Zeus or Aphrodite could have laid claim to him, and he may be better suited to such roles. There were many who saw there qualities in him and doubted his parentage. Indeed, he was a son of Apollo, and such doubts could not last, not when his hair and eyes glowed like the sun, not when it was so evident that there was fire lit in his soul. His words were often harsh and glaring, but they could also be so bright and beautiful that one couldn’t find within themselves, the will to look away. Then, sometimes, when the nights were at there darkest, his words were not hard and bright but soft. Every word held a second meaning, every phrase reflected off the moon and illuminated the truth of the world. The words he spoke by daylight were as harsh and cruel as they were captivating. By nightfall they were as devastating as they were beautiful, and so utterly undeniable, cutting through both shadow and stone.

Roy Mustang

He wasn’t meant to wield a hammer. He wasn’t built to craft weapons and armor. His fingers would have fumbled, had he attempted to tinker in even simple crafts. If it wasn’t for his mastery of fire, anyone who looked would have thought “there is no child of Hephaestus here, this is a child of Zeus.” He was striking and severe and inspired loyalty in people of all backgrounds. He would work people through his fingers, have them dancing in and out of hoops and thanking him for the honor. They would think “this man could only be the son of a king.” However, those who knew him best would look upon him and see the way he worked. He needed no hammer or anvil, for people were his tools and he, a master smith. Each tool worked under his careful guidance, quickly and efficiently forming masterpieces according to his will. His hands were not calloused, but those who served him knew that he would not need them to craft a new world. He would forge it in fire.

Winry Rockbell

She should have been a daughter of Hephaestus. She was muscular and deeply intelligent, strong of body and mind. She worked with machinery like it was second nature. She could look at any scrap heap, any pile of junk, and she could see what could be made of it, putting machinery together in her head, like pieces of a puzzle. It was her brother who said it best, before anyone else understood. “Your hands aren’t meant for killing people,” said he “they’re meant for helping them live.” It was years before anyone understood what he meant, after the war when she presented her greatest invention. Automail. Though she did not glow with inner light like her father, though she could not hold a tune or play an instrument or dance to a beat, though she could not hold a tune or play an instrument, though she had no passion for medicine, or weaponry of any sort (besides the occasional wrench), she could only be a child of Apollo. She was one who created miracles, one who healed what could not be healed.

Lan Fan

They spoke of a daughter of Hades. Who else could know the shadows and be content to walk among them? Who else could stand in the darkness, among ghosts and monsters, unafraid? Who else could know death so well that she would hold no fear of it? And so it was that she walked in shadow, remaining sullen and silent, a girl who stood apart from the rest. “She could only be a child of Hades” they said. Then they met her Prince. She walked in shadow, beside her Prince, with unfailing loyalty. She would make any sacrifice for him. To preserve his life, she gave herself to death, but did Hestia not devote her life to the hearth? The whispers were irrelevant. She knew the truth of herself. She was not light. She was not warmth. She was not home. She did not need to be, for he was light, and he was warmth, and he was home. He was her hearth, and as her mother before her, she protected him, unwavering.

Ling Yao

He was lighthearted and joyful, always ready with a quip or a joke for his friends, always ready with words of praise or thanks for those who served him. At celebrations he would weave through a crowd with glee and consume twice his weight in food and drink. He was a joy, and it was easy to feel comfortable in his presence, but death followed in his wake. He was surrounded by shadows. As the living whispered their secrets in his ear, unheard, he spoke to the souls of the dead, felt them near. It was only in battle that one might see his true skin, with narrowed eyes and hellfire written across his face. Flanked by his horsemen he would cut through the ranks of his enemies, flitting through the shadows, leaving only death behind. A son of Dionysus, they may have called him, had they not seen the way her wore that crown of rage and fire, had they not seen his walk of death. Jovial though his attitude may be, there was no denying his nature. A true Prince of the Underworld, was he.

Alphonse Elric

Polite and demure, with patience and endless kindness, there was not a soul who did not hold some affection for him. He held deep intelligence, of both the social and the intellectual strains. He was truly good, and well loved for it. His friends joked how their fathers claimed the wrong sons, how he was more the son of Apollo than his brother. It would have been easy then. He seemed to be sunshine, and life. He had more taste for healing and protection than for battle. He was more light than lightning. And yes, the people gathered around him, he held respect, and was deserving of it, despite his age and disposition. He stood firm, with all the ears and eyes that settled upon him, and walked among his peers. He felt no desire to stand above them. He was not thunder. He was not lightning. He did not need to be. He had no need of theatrical intimidation tactics. He never wanted a throne, nor a crown. The son of Zeus was more the King than his father, and he walked among those who would be his subjects, without arrogance or shame, for he was one of them. He had always been so.

Mei Chang

If Artemis could have born a child, it would have been she. Though she could not be a daughter of Artemis, she was a hunter. She had been the perfect candidate, She was as clever as she was beautiful, and she carried herself with a gentle sweetness that did not betray the fierceness with which she could fight. She treated those around her with kindness, she she repaid their loyalty, with loyalty in turn. She was compassionate and honorable in every way she knew how to be. She was passionate about the hunt, and compassionate for the wild and all of its creatures. She fought bravely and ferociously, efficiency written into every movement, knives flying to find their marks, acting as extensions of her being. None would have guessed her to be a child of Aphrodite, so dedicated was she, to her goddess, and her craft. She had no care for beauty, though she was beautiful all the same. Though it flowed through her skin, it was a pale imitation of her soul. She shined with moonlight.

Maes Hughes

The way he flitted about, seeming to befriend everyone and no one, his loud and boisterous mannerisms, the way he could brag and boast without revealing a thing about himself, it was all indicative of a son of the trickster god. But deception is often strategic, as are friends in high places, and being underestimated is an great advantage to anyone who knows how to utilize it properly. His deception was visible for the world to see, and it disguised more subtle truths. No son of Hermes could look into hell without flinching. No son of Hermes could be so prepared for the reality of war, or so capable of coming out of it undamaged. No. Though he could have been a son of Hermes, in truth, he was a son of Ares. It was those who opposed him, and those who fought at his side, who could see it clearly. When he was constructing a plan or following a lead, or digging for information, they saw battle rage in his eyes, just barely concealed behind a thin veil of joviality. When he fought on the battlefield they saw cold calculation, hidden behind a mask of righteousness. Knives flew faster than thought, war and survival of his very breath. A true son of Ares, that one.

Riza Hawkeye

Those who knew her briefly thought little of her: a paper pusher playing soldier, a daughter of Hermes with little talent of her own who only benefited from the accomplishments of the company she kept. Those who knew her for some time might have thought her an excellent marksman, a good soldier, perhaps a daughter of Apollo, or a hunter of Artemis. It was those who studied her closely, or knew her well, who might have noticed a quiet intelligence about her, though it was never among her most obvious or compelling traits. It didn’t need to be. She knew that being a daughter of Athena has never required memorization of facts or the ability to spit out useful information at a moments notice. There is more to wisdom than intelligence, and more to intelligence than book-smarts. She stood firm and watched those around her, those she cared for. She watched for strengths and weaknesses and saw where her friends and allies were lacking. She followed them knowingly, willingly, into folly, in the hopes that she might see something they cannot. She’s always had sharp eyes. But more than that, she hoped that she can save them, and she knew that books do not save lives. Guns do.

Izumi Curtis

She would seem to be a daughter of Athena, taking on only the brightest of students, those most willing and able to learn, but teaching everyone she meets. She holds great wisdom and shares it freely. She knows the truth of the world, and one cannot help but to learn something new about it each time they speak to her. She knows when to be firm, and when to be kind. She keeps no secrets, hides no knowledge. Wisdom belongs to anyone who cares to seek it, and she will tell anyone who asks. As her mind is open to the world, so is the truth of her parentage. She makes no secret of it. A humble housewife. A daughter of Hestia. She has no use for Athena’s battle strategy. War is of no interest to her. She will stay home, and she will love her husband, and she will preserve them both. She will fight in defense of that which she loves. Yes. That is the way of her. She will defend, protect, and preserve. No more. No less. A daughter of Hestia, she will keep her hearth safe for all those who love it, and so all those who leave may have a place to return to.

Oliver Armstrong

To many, she would seem to be an unstoppable force. They would see her victory against the mountain and the wind and the storm, and say “she is the storm.” They would see her rigid command and militaristic exterior and say “this one is a daughter of Zeus. Unmovable, impenetrable, her fort is Mount Olympus and she rules over it with an iron fist, thunder and lightning taken to human form. She commands the mountain. She commands the storm.” The truth of the matter is quite the opposite. While a mountain does not bend or break, it wears down over years of exposure to the forces of nature. While a storm seems unstoppable, it will eventually wane. She does not need to control the elements, such a power would do her no good. Instead, she outlasts them. She is a daughter of Poseidon. As waves wear stone to sand, she outlasts miles of enemy combatants. As rivers cut through miles of bedrock, she cuts through their forces, by bullet or by blade. She can outlast any who oppose her. If not the enemy, then the storm, for even lightning cannot damage the sea. Perseverance and change come easy as breathing to her. They are her birthright. She owns every inch of it, and still grasps for more. That is the way of her.

Scar

Those who know him now, know him as a son of Ares. There is hatred in in his eyes and steel in his heart. War seems to run through his veins, and he has become so very good at it. To those who see him, it seems as though bloodshed is all he knows. There was a time though, when he was young, when it was not so. Those who knew him then are now dead. No. He was not made by war, merely shaped by it. Those who knew him before would have seen the truth of it. He was a priest, one who takes all the good that he sees before him and sows it, distributes it out into the world so that it may grow in others. He was one who saw what was good and preserved it though long winters and dark storms. He rooted out the bad and allowed good to grow. Then war took him in its grasp, and when war became all he knew, it was war that he cultivated and spread. And so it was until he met someone who saw the beauty in him. She allowed him to set aside his war just long enough to see what he had reaped. He made the decision to burn away his crops, his hatred and his anger. He burns away his war and beings again. A son of Demeter may always choose to plant something new.