#titan goddess

[evermore-grimoire]

The Evermore Grimoire: Greek Mythology

Styx (Στυξ meaning "Hated") was the Titan goddess of the underworld River Styx in Greek mythology. She was the embodiment of hatred and detestation. This made her one of the most feard Titans. During the "Golden Age" of the Titans, Styx was the guardian of the Underworld. Before the war, she was married to her cousin Pallas (god of warcraft), son of Crius (god of heavenly constellations) and Eurybia (goddess of mastery of the sea). However, Pallas was killed during the war. Throughout most of the war, Styx remained neutral, like her parents and siblings, the River gods and Ocean nymphs. During the last battle of the Titan War, she chose to side with Zeus (king of the gods) and the Olympians, giving her four children, Bia (goddess of force), Cratus (god of power), Zelos (god of rivalry) and Nike (goddess of victory) in her service. To honour her, Zeus decreed that the solemn oaths of the gods be sworn by the water of Styx

artwork by Yliade

[maddiedrawsstuff]

Breaking my stubborn streak of trying to draw all of my adopted designs in chronological order to share this gal I recently sold

original design by goneafterdeath on TH, currently owned by eitlas__ on TH

+COMMISSION INFO+

[flareblade2000]

Good morning have a pretty lady

character belongs to _apolloval_ oh TH

+COMMISSION INFO+

[madzbustinout]

i miss when i’d open up pinterest, search “percy jackson memes” and a bunch of text memes would pop up (different character = different font/color type deal) where the prompt would be something like “The seven react to…leo being alive??? 😱😱😱”

now it’s just black n white text over pictures of walker scobell, please take me back.

[mer-acle]

Metís, Titon of the mind

Athenaaaa! I drew your Mom!

So my idea with Metis is that she's much less regal in character than Hera, she's kinda the cool alt wife Zeus had in his youth. Still has a kick-ass sense of fashion though like ahhh look at this. (Also am I going overboard with the earpiercings for my designs? The answer is shut up I like them and I'm coping bc my own earpiercings won't heal and I just wanna wear all the cool earrings I have okay)

I tried not to make her too close in looks to Athena, bc in my mind, the gods don't really work that way, they are more Rodgers and Hammerstein Cinderella lvl of gene logic lmao Otherwise my Ares design wouldn't work and I am attached to it. I feel like it's more that likeness means something, like Artemis and Apollo having matching hair strands, or in this case, Metis' grey eyes that Athena also has. Otherwise, ofc a lot of ocean-inspired imagery bc of her being an oceanid, also a different hue than Athena but kinda the same hue as Quick Thought. For my more animal inspired designs (i.e winged!Athena) she'd get wings too, inspired by a blue jay which is also a very intelligent bird like an owl or raven.

Progress Video below the cut

[knightofthenewrepublic]

[goddesskarenk]

Icelandic Goddess will remain calm and flawless ❤️🥰

[martydearest]

TA discord server proposed bingo cards for WotTG and this is what I can produce. Alas no space for Kelli, Claymore, or the potential of canonized ethabaster

Thank you so much @aroaceleovaldez, @artemx746, and @everythingwasalreadypicked

[sillygoose067]

A Masked Promise

Ch. 37

Dick Grayson (Nightwing) x Reader

The infirmary felt suffocating. Not because of the sterile scent or the quiet hum of the machines, but because of him. Because Dick hadn’t moved from your bedside since you woke up, hadn’t let go of you, hadn’t even thought to take care of himself.

The dark circles under his eyes were deeper now, his exhaustion evident in every slow blink, every sluggish movement. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days—like the weight of the world had settled onto his shoulders and refused to let go, like Atlas doomed to carry the heavens without rest, his burden as endless as his guilt.

“Gray…” you murmured, your voice still rough from disuse. Your fingers brushed over the back of his hand, drawing his attention. “You need to get some sleep.”

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head as if that was the most ridiculous thing you could have suggested. “I’m fine.”

“You look like hell,” you countered, watching as his lips pressed into a thin line. “And this bed sucks.” You shifted against the stiff mattress, wincing slightly to sell your point. “I feel gross. I need a shower.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion flickering across his face. “You’re still weak.”

“I’ll be fine.”

His response was immediate, firm. “You’re not walking.”

Before you could protest, he was already moving, arms sliding under you with ease. Your breath hitched as he lifted you as if you weighed nothing, his warmth immediately surrounding you.

“Gray—”

“I said you’re not walking,” he murmured, voice unwavering.

You exhaled, knowing better than to argue with him when he was like this. Instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting him carry you through the hallways to his quarters—the same place you’d been staying with him. The tension in his body was palpable, his grip on you firm but gentle, like he was afraid you’d slip away again.

You tried to lighten the mood. “So… are you planning to carry me into the shower too?”

His gaze flicked down to you, unimpressed. "I'm still mad at you, you know that, right?"

Inside his quarters, he set you down carefully on the edge of the bed, hovering like a worried mother hen as you pushed yourself up. The moment you were steady, he hesitated, as if torn between giving you space and staying close. You squeezed his arm before making your way to the bathroom, letting him know you were okay.

The warm water helped wash away the remnants of blood, battle, the grime, the sweat, the exhaustion clinging to your skin. By the time you stepped out, towel-drying your hair, you felt marginally better. You slipped into one of his shirts—soft, oversized, smelling like him—and returned to the bedroom to find him sitting on the bed, a fresh bottle in his hands.

You frowned. “Seriously?”

His grip tightened slightly around the bottle, but he didn’t meet your eyes. “Just one.”

“No,” you said firmly, walking over and plucking it from his hands before he could argue. “You need sleep, not this.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t resist as you set the bottle aside and nudged him toward the pillows. He let out a heavy breath, rubbing a hand over his face before finally relenting, settling into bed. You climbed in beside him, shifting closer until your bodies aligned, your head tucked under his chin.

The moment you did, his arms locked around you, pulling you against him as if afraid you’d disappear. His face pressed into your hair, his breathing slow but uneven, his hold unyielding. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, his presence, his scent.

“Sleep,” you murmured against his chest.

He tensed slightly, then exhaled, his fingers tracing slow patterns against your back. “I can’t.”

You pulled back slightly to look up at him. His gaze was distant, haunted.

“Every time I close my eyes,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “I see it. You died. The way your eyes—” His breath hitched, and he shook his head, swallowing hard. “I lost you.”

His voice was so raw, so broken, that it cracked something inside you. Without hesitation, you shifted, moving above him, gently guiding his head against your chest, your arms wrapping around him as he had done for you before. He didn’t resist—just let himself sink into you, his body finally releasing some of the tension it had been holding. The steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his ear seemed to soothe him, grounding him in something real, something alive.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. “I was scared too,” you admitted softly. “Watching you fight Slade, knowing there was nothing I could do… I couldn’t imagine a world without you, Gray. Without Richard Grayson. Without Nightwing.”

His arms tightened around your waist.

“I’m expendable,” you continued, your voice steady but gentle. “But you’re not. More lives would have been lost if—”

“Stop.” His voice was muffled against you, but firm. He shifted, burrowing further against you, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not expendable. You’re—” He exhaled shakily. “I can’t imagine a world without you either.”

The room was quiet after that, save for the steady rhythm of your breathing. You continued running your fingers through his hair, grounding both of you in the moment. His body slowly relaxed beneath you, exhaustion creeping in.

And then, as if the thought had been weighing on you all night, you spoke. “I’m ready.”

A low hum vibrated against your skin as he shifted slightly, not quite lifting his head. “Mmm?”

“To go all the way,” you clarified. "You know...Sex."

That got his attention. He pulled back just enough to squint up at you, sleep-heavy but alert. “You’re only saying that because you’re drained right now.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m saying that because I almost died.” He winced. “And it put things into perspective.”

His gaze softened, his fingers brushing slow, aimless patterns over your ribs. “I get that,” he murmured, voice thick with exhaustion. “And believe me, I feel the same. But I don’t want you making this choice because of fear.”

“It’s not fear,” you insisted. “It’s clarity.”

He hummed again, skeptical but not dismissive. His fingers trailed just beneath the hem of his shirt draped over you, warm against your skin. “Still… sleep on it,” he said, voice softer now, heavier. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sighed, about to argue again, but he silenced you with a kiss—first to your forehead, then your nose, then finally, your lips. It was soft, lingering, filled with quiet understanding.

“Sleep,” he murmured against you, and this time, it was an order.

He shifted, tucking himself against you once more, his head beneath your chin, his arms holding you close.

———————————————————————————-

TAGLIST:

@mybones537 @thereeallink @ziziriaa-blog

[blueiscoool]

Bronze Statue of Greek Goddess Artemis Found at the Titanic Wreck

A stunning statue of the Greek goddess Artemis (Diana in ancient Rome) was discovered near the wreck of the Titanic, which sank in April 1912 after striking an iceberg, claiming the lives of 1,500 people.

Originally photographed in 1986 by Robert Ballard, the Diana of Versailles bronze statue’s precise location remained elusive for decades.

Measuring roughly two feet in height, the statue was a centerpiece in the opulent first-class lounge, a room renowned for its intricate design and elegance.

[choucon]

Okay, so. I made this thingie..

Idk, if it's right, but yayy, I guess

The Primordial Deities

The Titans

The Olympians

(If you're gonna share pls tag me or something like that)

[asterias-fallen-star]

A quick picture of Lady Asteria’s section on my altar. It’s not massive but I love it and I think she does too <3

[rest-inthe-moon-light]

Lady Selene is so beautiful 🌒🤍 I love looking for her every night.

[sarafangirlart]

Rhea doodle

[madzbustinout]

“percy jackson hahaha token white boy” no actually you can pry colombian percy out of my cold dead hands

[boymanmaletheshequel]

Subtle ways to honor Eos 🌅🌞

- Admire the sunset

- watch the sunset with your lover or partner

- wake up in time for the sunset

- love and embrace your partner or lover

- post or share photos of sunsets online

- bake or cook breakfast

- go for a morning walk

- create and follow a morning routine

- take time to mourn failed or broken romantic endeavors and relationships

- make and drink coffee

- set an alarm to wake up

- plant or pick morning glories

- touch or collect morning dew

- be kind to and admire grasshoppers

- cook with saffron (her sacred color)

- smell roses or make rose tea

- listen to the birds sing in the morning