#hi i only wanted to draw hera but somehow ended up drawing all of them

[amikoroyaiart]

Rebels!

#star wars #my art #hera syndulla #kanan jarrus #ezra bridger #sabine wren #garazeb orrelios #alexsandr kallus #chopper #star wars rebels #hi i only wanted to draw hera but somehow ended up drawing all of them

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible. 

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization. 

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is. 

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane. 

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

[petruchio]

my pjo hot take (or cold ig?? idrk) is that rr was never really interested in making jason grace his own character and instead took the easy way out and made jason grace diet!percy (walmart percy jackson, if you will). jason has so much potential and it never gets explored. like he was raised by wolves, he should've been a little feral. he talked back to the king of gods, his father, in front of the council!! grew up in camp jupiter (wasn't he like the youngest kid to ever join??), hera's champion (what's his relationship with hera like?? is he sympathetic to her?? does he resent her??). has a sibling from the greek end and i could go on. he has so much potential and yet we get nothing!! what do you think? (feel free to write as much as you want. i love reading your pjo meta essays.)

💓💓💗💞💕

omg yeah i agree so much i feel like the general consensus on jason has been like. he had so much potential as a character and it somehow ALL went unused...

i thought i had answered another question about jason like months ago on my blog and now i just ??? can't find it?? but i always felt so let down by jason because there was so much to explore that just went COMPLETELY UNEXPLORED and it's unfair because he is <3 jason grace our king our hero our savior

my general take on hoo that i've kind of settled on in the last few years or so is that actually jason SHOULDN'T have been the main character and it should have been a single pov series from leo's point of view!! i think it would've been a really great follow up to pjo to take a lot of the tropes that pjo kind of establishes and turn them on their head--so like, instead of the child of the big three being the main character, he would've been the kind of "sidekick" trope, which i think could've lent itself to a lot of cool exploration of like "what makes a hero" and "what is destiny"

BUT, within the series that we GOT, (and i KNOW i've ranted about this before) i wish we could've actually EXPLORED the complexities of jason and piper's relationship being built on false memories. i'm still a proponent of the theory that piper's fake memories were of leo (come on its POETIC) and also that would've added such a fascinating wrinkle into both jason's relationship with reyna AND leo's relationship with piper... that love square could've just been. immaculate if it hadn't just been like, hinted at in the first book and then basically dropped completely.

i also have always wished for a series that would've been just about the romans, because i feel like the way roman mythology and history were explored in hoo left... much to be desired imo. i think there could've been a lot of more in depth explorations of roman works and stories (like how the sea of monsters parallels the odyssey, could we have had something like that with, say, the aeneid or something i'm just spitballing here) or used famous roman history tales to draw parallels and take lessons away from (someday i will actually think more and construct a real argument for my idea for a series in which jason is a julius caesar parallel.)

anyway yeah i totally agree that whatever jason was meant to be he definitely... isn't at least in the later books of hoo. i think the biggest problem with hoo is that every book is just like, fanservice based on the response to the last book which has aged them so much more than the original pjo series. like i literally could not tell you a single overarching theme that we're meant to draw out of hoo that wasn't either a) already established in pjo or b) only appears in like, 2 chapters of one of the books. i think a big strength of writing a children's series is the opportunity to build on themes and explore them in subsequent books and kind of, turn them on their heads and ask the difficult questions and i just feel like hoo never DID that. it makes sense why like, it was clearly a fanservice series and it's fun that it exists! but it just is kind of thematically bare compared to pjo.

#answered #anonymous #pjo thoughts #long thoughts

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

New Dawn Fades — Literary References Analysis Part 4: The Id, the Ego, the Superego

Cyberpunk Spoiler Warning 

Here’s part four of me going through all the endings and looking for the literary references in each of the endings, which I believe allude to what happens to V/Johnny, possibly in future DLC. If you haven’t read my other posts, you should read them here (Johnny’s Mikoshi poem, V’s Mikoshi Poem, The Star ending) first since we’re gonna loop back to them later.

New Dawn Fades was such a pain in the ass; because Johnny is such an art hoe, I found three different poems/stories scattered around. Not only that, but two of them are translated from Polish, and one of them us from Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. I studied English literature so…forgive me if this is super surface-level. Also, stuff gets lost in translation, so the original meaning sometimes gets lost. If Polish literature is anyones niche, please teach me a thing two, but all I can do now is my best! But from what I could tell, damn…paints a pretty depressing picture. Let’s start with the two Polish writers first:

Bolesław Leśmian, "Why so many candles...”

Why so many candles, these faces above me?

No more harm shall ever meet my body.

Everyone is standing - while here alone I lie -

Grieving, feigning. One must be true when one must die.

And so, buried under these wreathes of leaves, I lie -

Solemnly - Agelessly - Solitarily.

Death, gone silent, once again rushes to my head,

Though by now I know all my comprehension is dead.

How I loathe to become accustomed to this grave,

To be what I once was - that is all I crave.

This one is…yikes. Depressing. As I talked about in previous posts, V’s poem is more pessimistic: nothing we do matters, we’re all just dust in the wind, you know, the good stuff. Johnny’s poem has a very different stance; art makes us immortal, and we can change the world, etc. With this…Johnny seems to have given his larger-than-life attitude up in favor of V’s resignation that life sucks. Much like Prufrock in V’s poem, Johnny is lying “Solemnly - Agelessly - Solitarily.” Almost as if he didn’t want V’s body, not as a selfless gesture…but because he has grown accustom to his previous form. In Johnny’s version of Alt’s poem, it almost seems as if he embraces being a construct — the form of immortality it, and his legacy, grants him (remember all that hokey about being a golden bird to sing his message to the youth?). Blackwall was a kind of death Johnny knew — yet now:

“How I loathe to become accustomed to this grave,

To be what I once was - that is all I crave.”

Interesting. We never find out where Johnny is going when he leaves Night City, but it makes me wonder. Is he truly starting anew? Or hoping to fix what went wrong?

In the next room, we find another poem, this one an excerpt from Labyrinth by Wisława Szymborska:

So this way or that,

Or no, the other,

By ear or by your gut,

By your wits or by shortcut,

By any means necessary,

Cutting crooked corners.

Past whatever row in a row

Of corridors and gates,

Quickly, in the meantime

Your time grows short,

From one place to another

To one of many still open,

Of darkness and plight

But also delight, held just ajar,

Where there's joy, though sorrow

Lies well-nigh nearby,

And elsewhere, somewhere,

Wheresoever and whereabout,

Fortune in misfortune

Like a parenthetical parenthesis

Acceptance of it all

And suddenly - a fall

I’m a little shaky on the meaning behind this one. My immediate response is to compare it to the poem found in The Star — which contains a piece from The Marriage Between Heaven and Hell by William Blake. The overarching use of this poem, by my interpretation, is an explanation for what the Blackwall is: hell. But not hell how most would perceive it. In fact, according to Blake, hell isn’t so bad. Our views of heaven and hell, good and evil, are wrong. Everyone contains both good and bad within them, and neither is wrong, simply two opposites; between conformity and rebellion, art and obedience. If we were to look at it this way, V would most likely belong in “Heaven,” the world of the obedient, those who play by the worlds rules (at least, in the beginning of the story, before Johnny influences them toward the rebel path), while Johnny represents “Evil,” and would belong to Hell. In some dialogue choices, Johnny will even state that he no longer believes he is a human, and is in fact code, no longer belonging in the world of the living. In this scenario, both have found themselves where they don’t belong. Not only that — but one is supposed to be a healthy mix of so-called “Good” and “Evil.” The “Soul,” and “Body,” are one, not meant to be separated. Uh oh. The tone of this poem in Johnny’s context just seems so…lost, to me. Someone who found their other half, their perfect foil, a soul and body as one…and now it’s gone. What does one do after such a loss?

And finally, the most grim of the three stories: Ovid’s The Metamorphoses. Specifically, Book III, Narcissus and Echo. This one most likely has the greatest significance; not only is it a shard you can pick up, but an open copy of the book can be found in Johnny’s hotel room, drawing further attention to it. 

If you haven’t read it, let me give you a quick and dirty summary:

At the beginning of the story, Narcissus’ mother, Liriope, asks the prophet Tiresias if her son will live to see old age, which he replies “only if he does not know himself.” One day when Narcissus is 16, he is out hunting when he finds a mountain Nymph named Echo. Echo, as one might guess, was cursed by Hera and can only repeat what is said back to her. You know. Like an echo. Echo falls in love with Narcissus at first sight and follows him throughout the forest, waiting for him to speak so she can communicate with him. Narcissus eventually gets separated from his hunting group, and calls out for them, which Echo…well, echos. Eventually Echo reveals herself and Narcissus freaks out, telling her basically he’d rather die than be with her. She hides in a cave and pines until she whithers away from hunger, and only her voice remains.

Many other nymphs fall for Narcissus because apparently he’s a straight up snack, but he rejects all of them. Apparently someone gets so salty about it, they summon the Goddess of Vengeance to do something about it. She leads him to a crystal clear pool, in which he is able to see his reflection. Remember the thing about knowing oneself? Yeah…At first, Narcissus thinks the reflection is a different person and falls in love. He smiles, the reflection smiles, so it must like him back, right? Eventually he reaches to touch it, and realizes that it’s him. He freaks out, and much like Echo, stays by his reflections side until he withers away. Having a total meltdown, he cries out “Alas!” which is echoed, by well, Echo. Her voice lived on, and she watches him die as he calls “Farewell, dear boy. Beloved in vain.” Once again, Echo repeats this. Narcissus dies and all the thirsty hoes make a pyre to burn him, but when they go looking for him they find the Narcissus (flower) instead (nooo...dont transform into a flower, you’re so sexy ahaha). 

So what does this mean for Johnny/V? Well, two main things pop out to me: transformation, and reflections. Much like Echo and Narcissus are reflections of each other, V and Johnny reflect each other. As @ellitira pointed out in my analysis of the Star, V and Johnny constantly reflect each other. One of the most obvious ways is their literal reflection; if you look in a mirror during a relic malfunction, you’ll see Johnny, not V. But scenes are reflected as well; the first and last time V meets Johnny, they grab him by the shoulder from behind to get his attention as he turn to face them. The first time Johnny and V have a civil conversation, they’re sitting at a table in Tom’s Diner, Johnny’s foot on the table. This mimics their conversation in Mikoshi with Alt. Their conversation about taking a bullet for one another in the Pista Sofia where Johnny is sitting backwards on a chair while V is on the ground is also repeated moments later, as Johnny and V have their final conversation about who will stay and who will go with Alt. Johnny also mentions that he spent his first few weeks in NC laying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan. When he awakens in New Dawn Fades, what is he doing? Staring at the ceiling fan…in Pacifica, not far from the Pista Sofia. The boy who he gives the guitar to is even wearing V’s “favorite shirt”…the one we see them wearing in the first scene they’re introduced. There’s probably loads more, so feel free to share if you find any more. If you want to know more about why this is significant, make sure to read about V’s version of Alt’s poem. 

So why do these reflections/echos matter? Well, what does one do with a reflection? Reflect. Johnny begins to examine himself through V, and he begins to realize he doesn’t like what he sees. If V calls him the man who saved her life, he’ll respond with “you have no idea how badly I want that to be true.” He tries his best to right his wrong only after this conversation with V, not only in Burning Love and Chippin’ In, but in other ways too. For example, it’s Johnny’s idea to call V’s loved ones to say goodbye on the roof scene, because “he wished that he had had a chance to.” Because of V, he grows, changes, and becomes a better person, just as much if not more as he seems to change V. As he leaves V’s grave, he even states that he has changed; that he’s wiser now, and won’t make the same mistakes. He states he won’t dwell on what happened, but somehow I doubt that, considering everything above.

The other theme of Narcissus and Echo is of transformation; after all, metamorphosis actually means "to change or transform.” Echo becomes, well, and echo, and Narcissus becomes a flower. V and Johnny also transform; not only physically between engram and human, but they transform one another. Both of them fall in love, and neither will move on. Echo falls in love with Narcissus, and Narcissus falls in love with his reflection. Because they refuse to transform the way they feel, they must die and transform physically. So who represents who in this scenario? In a way, Johnny is both. Johnny is a bit, well, narcissistic. He’s self-absorbed in his flashbacks, and adored by countless fans, yet ignores them in favor of his own company. He thinks everything is about him (Alt’s death, Samurai, etc.)  and is willing to die for his beliefs. He is also constantly reflecting on himself through V. However, what really kills him is losing Alt; she tells him not to follow her (much like Narcissus tells Echo to leave him alone). He does anyway, and avenging her leads to his demise.

What’s especially sad about this is the way Johnny views transformation; he is very concerned with the idea of one’s individual identity, and hates the idea of turning into something you’re not. He despises that he’s going to turn V into himself by force. He hates dolls because he sees their behavior chip as something that changes them into something they’re not. He’s scared of V going to Blackwall not because it’s death, but because they “won’t be the same.” I don’t think Johnny ever wanted V’s body; again, not as a courtesy, but because it’s not him. After all, he could have just let nature take its course and let himself re-write their psyche, but instead he actively tries to save them as best he can. If V chooses to let him have their body, he hardly seems happy about it; especially compared to how happy he seems to see that part of him will live on in the way V refuses to give up should they choose to live on. By taking V’s body, he is no longer himself; rebel, rocker-boy, legend, and the guy who promised to save V’s life. Johnny in A New Dawn has lost his entire sense of self, his entire new and improved identity; one that learned from his mistakes and became a better person because of V. Johnny has The Tower tattooed on his arm, the card of (often painful) transformation and change. Yet this is what Johnny is most afraid of; not death, or even the not-so-bad sort-of hell that is Blackwall. He’s afraid of losing himself, and by losing V, he has lost a part of himself. The part of himself that was supposed to be a better person; who was supposed to save V’s life.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk2077 #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk spoilers #v cyberpunk #johnny silverhand #new dawn fades #my posts

[voidstilesplease]

Bursts

demigod au ficlet [5] | prev

---

Derek

"Chip!"

Derek hastily straightens in his seat when he hears the familiar voice. His visiting little cyclops brother, Chip, who's as tall and broad as Derek, races down the front porch of the Big House, screaming to his favorite person at camp: son of Athena, Stiles.

"Stiles!" is Chip's answering cry as they meet in a bone-crushing hug. Chip picks Stiles up off his feet and twirls him around, all the while shrieking in glee. "I missed you!"

Stiles grins up at the cyclops when he brings him back down. His pale face is flushed, and the freckles on his face stand out. He looks so excited to see Chip. It's no wonder. They were instant buddies since the first time they met last summer, Stiles's first at camp. 

"Let's read Stiles!" Chip takes one of Stiles's arms, shaking it. He's bouncing on his giant feet as he continues babbling. "Can we read about Lord Pegasus? Oh, oh, I also want to read about Medusa! Oh, oh, and the other gorgons, please!" Chip draws out the last word and blinks his big eye at Stiles.

Stiles gives a hearty laugh at Chip's antics. Then his eyes widen a small fraction, "Oh," he mutters, looking down at the book his other hand is holding and back to Chip, biting his lower lip. "Oh, no. I'm mentoring today, kid."

"Yes!" Chip nods his head, not losing the broad smile. "You're men-to-ring me!" Chip giggles, swaying Stiles's arm playfully.

Stiles's expression morphs back to an open-smile after a moment of contemplation. "Of course! Anything you like."

Chip pulls Stiles up the front porch, only letting go to arrange the table and chair for their session. Derek clears his throat, standing to give his previous space to Stiles. "Do you want anything to eat?"

Stiles turns and acknowledges him for the first time. His smile tightens, and he doesn't look at Derek's eyes. "No, I’m fine."

Derek purses his lips. Well, Stiles's treatment of Derek makes sense after all his asshole business last summer, but knowing doesn't equal accepting. Derek tries again, "How about a can of diet coke?" 

Stiles looks at him, then, arching a brow. "Mr. D would castrate you on sight," he declares matter-of-factly in his deadpan tone whenever he thinks something is stupid. "Or worse, turn you into a dolphin."

Derek snorts, knowing it's the truth. "I'm not taking from his godly stash. We have some in the supply store."

Stiles squints his eyes, studying Derek in silence. Derek fidgets, feeling small despite having a few inches on Stiles and pounds of muscles. It has been their lengthiest interaction since the previous year. Derek remembers how just last summer, he was the one belittling the demigod. He wishes he knew better, then.

In the end, it's Chip who breaks their gaze with his loud, exuberant, spirited nature. It reminds Derek that Chip is still an equivalent of a ten years old in mortal years. "Stiles! The table is ready! I have a seashell to show you. I picked it up from dad's palace just for you!"

Derek lowers his eyes, face heating up, while Stiles hums awkwardly. The Athena child turns to go but rotates back eventually, less closed-off. He nods, "I would like some diet coke, Der."

Derek tries not to choke. He, especially, tries to reign his fast-beating chest at the nickname. Any other person and Derek will immediately douse them with saltwater. But today, Der sounds good, he concludes.

•••

Derek comes back about ten minutes later, bringing two cans of diet coke and a bag of fresh strawberries from the Demeter cabin. He also includes a carton of milk for Chip that the cyclops calls Hera's mortal nectar  - courtesy of Cora’s suicidal humor, who Derek counts as lucky not to be mangled by the queen of Olympus's herd of angry cows at the disrespect.

As he nears, he pauses at the sight of the new camper, a son of Ares, charging angrily for the Big House toward Stiles and Chip. The boy looks ready to maul somebody. And judging by the flash in his eyes directed at Derek's unassuming brother, the Ares boy sets to accomplish just that.

Derek forgets the coke, fruit, and freaking milk and runs.

He comes just on time to take the boy by the back of his orange camp half-blood shirt and tackle him down to the floor before he can land a punch on Chip.

"Get off me!" The son of Ares screams, completely mad with rage that his eyes almost look like they're in flames. He grapples against Derek's hold, thrashing and attempting to bodily lift Derek off. "He's a monster! A murderer!"

The guy is unexpectedly tough, and Derek's hold on him is starting to slip. He has no choice. Derek closes his eyes and concentrates as much as he can - summoning. Quickly, he feels the familiar response, the powerful tug from the depths of his stomach to the tips of his fingers. There's a rushing noise, then metal clanking in an effort to hold, the current rumbling within them. The pressure becomes too much, and a pipe breaks in their midst. A forceful burst of water coming from every which way aims at the son of Ares.

Derek doesn't let go as water floods the anger and aggression from the boy. A few seconds only and Derek calls off the water, which instantly dries back to the ground, leaving only small puddles in its wake and a drenched boy on the porch of the Big House. Derek remains dry, fists clenched on the wheezing Ares boy's shirt.

"What the hell's going on?" A voice shouts. When Derek raises his head, he sees that their altercation has called the attention of many. A tall boy with dark hair hurries forward. It's Fred, cabin five's head counselor. "Theo!"

Theo, the boy Derek has pinned to the floor, pushes at him, and Derek tumbles off. Theo scrambles up, wet and dripping, and even more outraged. Fred appears beside Theo in an instant. The head counselor holds him back when Theo tries to launch at Chip again. His interference causes a flailing arm to hit his nose, and Fred's fingers loosen on Theo at the impact. Before Theo can come near at the whimpering cyclops, however, Stiles puts himself between Theo and Chip, wielding a shiny dagger that kisses Theo's throat in warning.

Stiles's nostrils flare as he grits out, "I hope you have an adequate excuse for what you just did."

Theo is heaving, giving Stiles a look of disbelief, and glances at Chip with loathing. Stiles presses the blade more firmly. 

Derek gets on his feet at once and takes his brother in his arms. The poor terrified cyclops is sniffling, tucking his face on Derek's neck. He's shivering, and Derek feels his blood boil. Who would want to hurt an innocent kid? He should have drowned the Ares boy sixty seconds longer.

"He's a murderer," Theo snarls, pointing at Chip.

Stiles replies with a clenched jaw, "He's a child!"

"He's a monster,"

"He's a cyclops, Theo," Stiles grinds his teeth, "A monster is one who attacks the helpless and innocent."

Theo opens his mouth for another nonsense, but Derek cuts him off. "Fred!" Derek growls, finding the counselor's eyes and having enough of all of it. "Take your brother."

Fred, nose bleeding, steps forward cautiously, reaching to wrap a hand around his brother's arm. Theo remains immovable. Fred tugs again, "Let's go, you idiot."

Theo and Stiles are locked in a glaring match, the Ares boy not backing down despite the blade thrust to his throat. 

"Theo!" Fred hisses, hard and sharp, pulling at him harder now. The authority bleeds in his tone and touch. He's still the Head Counselor.

"We will discuss this," Derek says to Fred.

Fred cocks his head to the side in silent agreement, but Theo scoffs, finally stepping back. He slips his glare to Derek, droplets crawling down his sneering face. "You bet we will," and with one last menacing glance at Chip, he allows Fred to lead him away.

•••

"I don't understand where his rage is coming from," Derek tells Chiron later, pacing back and forth in his office. Chiron had been away with Mr. D during the dispute and was immediately alerted on his arrival. "He just attacked Chip,"

Chiron's forehead creases with worry, a thoughtful look on his face. His lips a thin line as he asks, "How's the young cyclops?"

The question makes Derek halt, the tautness of his shoulders relaxing a little. His arms stretch to lean against the back of a chair in front of Chiron's table. "He's with Cora and Stiles," he shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly. "He's distraught, understandably so. And Cora is plotting revenge, and Stiles is angry enough not to stop her."

A soft knock brings their attention to the door. Upon Chiron's permission, it opens and admits Lori from cabin seven, daughter of Apollo. She looks sheepish, ducking her head a little as she closes the door behind her. "Sorry for interrupting."

Chiron hums kindly, waving a hand for her to state her case.

Lori steps forward, fingers tight around the hem of her shirt. "It's about Theo," she announces, getting the full attention of the trainer and director.

Derek straightens, crossing his arms. "What about him?"

Lori visibly hesitates for a moment, then clears her throat. "During his first day at camp, he had sprained a muscle on his back from training. Brett told him to stay in the medic tent for the evening to recuperate."

Chiron's brows draw together, "All right?"

She wets her lips and continues, more sure of her words now. "While Theo was asleep, he dreamt. He was sweating and muttering on the bed, obviously distressed, so I decided to call a son of Hypnos to help him sleep better." She glances back and forth between Derek and Chiron for their reactions. "He manipulated Theo's visions to calm him. But he told me before leaving that Theo wasn't dreaming. He was reliving a memory."

Dread settles in Derek's stomach. Somehow, he senses that Lori's next statements won't bode well for him - or Chip and even Cora. He breathes through his nose, prompting, "And?"

Lori swallows, "His memory was of an older girl named Tara," the daughter of Apollo delays, calculating her words. Finally, she huffs, "I didn't want to talk about this; this isn't my story to tell. But after what happened today, I think maybe this will help you approach Theo."

Chiron nods in understanding, but his expression reflects the same apprehension that Derek feels.

Lori grimaces, sending Derek an apologetic look before she finishes. "Tara was taken by a cyclops, Derek. It might be after Theo, too."

~•~

#teen wolf #demigod au #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #derek hale #fics tag #word count: 1802 #teen wolf demigod au series #neither steo #nor sterek #lmao but they're all here finally #demigodseries

[agentrouka-blog]

ASOIAF - Food symbolism: apples and Jon “You have to choose.”

Inspired by this amazing post by @thoughtsandgrumbles I felt compelled to look at apples a little. 

Apples are a deeply symbolic fruit on a good day, but I’m not going to go too deeply into the general use, because who has time for that? I’m looking at the text itself. This post will be all about apples in Jon’s chapters, once I get the preliminary rambles out of the way.

Warning: LONG. Many quotes.

Just a few things: 

Popularly associated with temptation and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the garden of eden, the realization of being nekkid, the Expulsion of Adam and Eve from paradise as a result. (That would botanically not have been an apple, though.)

The apple “to the fairest” handed out by Eris, godess of discord, for Paris to choose among the three godesses Hera, Athena and Aphrodite, ultimately leading to the Trojan War, which GRRM heavily draws from.

Snow White and the poison apple

Sansa is the name of a variety of apple that was developed in the 1970s, an early ripening mix of Gala and Akane.

Just by the general use, we get a theme of choice and destruction. Also Sansa is an apple. But - spoiler alert - that is NOT very central in Jon’s chapters. YET.

Also, some boring numbers, because this is not as easy a fruit as the persimmon to parse for the sheer amount of them:

Apples in general have 155 mentions in all searchable publications, 135 in the novels directly, 22 in Jon chapters. Only 9 of all the novel-mentions concern House Fossoway, 11 in the other literature. 

Top chapter uses: 

AFFC, Prologue - 14: Oldtown, Quill and Tankard inn backyard. Alleras shoots them with bow and arrow while the acolyte nerd squad discusses Dany and her dragon rumors. "Where's Rosey? Our rightful queen deserves another round of cider, wouldn't you say?" The apples are withered and wormy, the cider is fearsomely strong. Pate agonizes over his betrayal and theft for his creepy, obsessive love. His choice is “love”. Then he is killed. Complex.

ADWD, Jon V - 11: Jon passes out food and asks the wildlings at Mole’s Town to choose if they want to fight for the NW or not. Apples and onions, you have to choose. The apples are withered.

ADWD, Davos II - 7: Getting information about Manderly from an apple seller in White Harbor. Bad apple, good information. Theme in WH: who are you truly loyal to? The apple is dry and mealy, “bad”. Apples and onions, again.

ASOS, Bran III - 5, and ASOS, Jon V - 3: (8 combined) Rotten apples carpet the ground near an abandoned Queenscrown inn. They provide the background for Jon’s break with the Wildling Undercover Operation and flight back to the Watch. Theme: the abandonment of the Gift, the decline of the Watch, the Dream of Spring and Jon really doesn’t even really pretend to want a future with Ygritte. He chooses. The apples are rotten. 

POV uses: Jon 22, Arya 18, Prologue AFFC 14, Sansa 13, Davos 8, Jaime 8, Bran 8, Tyrion 8, Brienne 6, Catelyn 6, Dany 5, Eddard 5, Cersei 3, Theon 3, Samwell 2 JonCon 1, Asha 1, Quentyn 1, Arianne 1, Areo Hotah 1, Prologue ADWD: 1.

Jon is not only the single top POV character to feature the apple, he also has two of the top-use chapters that give the apple significance in setting the background. The apple is very closely tied to Jon. 

A short note on the  red apple Fossoways (Cider Hall) and the green apple Fossoways (New Barrel): 

The branches split at the trial of seven at the Tourney at Ashford (of the Ashford Theory), where the red apple fought for the bad guys (Aerion Targaryen) and the green apple for Ser Duncan the Tall.

Both had the red apple of the Fossoways painted on their shields, but the younger man's was soon hacked and chipped to pieces. "Here's an apple that's not ripe yet," the older said as he slammed the other's helm. (…)

"Ser Raymun, if you please." He cantered up, a grim smile lighting his face beneath his plumed helm. "My pardons, ser. I needed to make a small change to my sigil, lest I be mistaken for my dishonorable cousin." He showed them all his shield. The polished golden field remained the same, and the Fossoway apple, but this apple was green instead of red. "I fear I am still not ripe . . . but better green than wormy, eh?" 

(The Hedge Knight)

Again with the split of loyalty, with the following your moral code, with the choices. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So how do apples feature for Jon himself?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apples are connected to Jon’s struggle of loyalty to the Night’s Watch, and with his inner struggle in general. Every time they show up, he is confronted with a choice of who to stay loyal to, what values to follow. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First apple: AGOT, Jon IX. 

Jon’s final chapter in the book. Big Drama!

Jon eats a brown, withered apple when he tries to flee the NW the first time. He is heading South because his father has been killed and he wants to join Robb. He is plagued by self-doubt and fear. Then he takes a break to eat. 

In his saddlebag, he found a biscuit, a piece of cheese, and a small withered brown apple. (...) He kept the apple for last. It had gone a little soft, but the flesh was still tart and juicy. He was down to the core when he heard the sounds: horses, and from the north.

Straight after, he is caught and prodded back in an incredibly moving, nonviolent confrontation by his new Brothers reciting the NW vows. 

"… and all the nights to come," finished Pyp. He reached over for Jon's reins. "So here are your choices. Kill me, or come back with me."

Jon lifted his sword … and lowered it, helpless. "Damn you," he said. "Damn you all." 

In his mind, Jon is determined to try and escape again, but the next day, Mormont lets him know they knew what happened. 

Jon’s throat was dry. “You know?” “Know,” the raven echoed from Mormont’s shoulder. “Know.” The Old Bear snorted. “Do you think they chose me Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch because I’m dumb as a stump, Snow? Aemon told me you’d go. I told him you’d be back. I know my men … and my boys too. Honor set you on the kingsroad … and honor brought you back.” “My friends brought me back,” Jon said. “Did I say it was your honor?” Mormont inspected his plate.

Jon thinks he’ll be executed. Instead, he will be taken along to the great ranging beyond the Wall. 

“So I will have an answer from you, Lord Snow, and I will have it now. Are you a brother of the Night’s Watch … or only a bastard boy who wants to play at war?” Jon Snow straightened himself and took a long deep breath. Forgive me, Father. Robb, Arya, Bran … forgive me, I cannot help you. He has the truth of it. This is my place. “I am … yours, my lord. Your man. I swear it. I will not run again.” The Old Bear snorted. “Good. Now go put on your sword.”

Apple = choice. The choice is the Watch. Because the war against the Others is more important. 

Apple Quality: Brown and whithered. But still tart and juicy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Second apple: ACOK, Jon I

A former green apple (the valiantly knightly Fossoway kind) is to be dispatched from the Wall to garner support from a Baratheon king... 

"Renly is not like to heed a quaking fat boy. I'll send Ser Arnell. He's a deal steadier, and his mother was one of the green-apple Fossoways."

"If it please my lord, what would you have of King Renly?"

The conversation turns toward maester Aemon, his repeated refusal to become king and the incredibly foreshadowy information about the ending of the dragon line. 

It made him feel odd. “My lord, why have you told me this, about Maester Aemon?” “Must I have a reason?” Mormont shifted in his seat, frowning. “Your brother Robb has been crowned King in the North. You and Aemon have that in common. A king for a brother.” “And this too,” said Jon. “A vow.” (…)

Jon drew himself up, taut as a bowstring. “And if it did trouble me, what might I do, bastard as I am?” “What will you do?” Mormont asked. “Bastard as you are?” “Be troubled,” said Jon, “and keep my vows.”

Apple = choice. The choice is the Watch. The bigger picture is more important.

Apple Quality: green and unripe. (But honorable.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Third apple: ACOK, Jon VII

Jon and the Qhorin Halfhand crew are on the losing side of a game of cat and mouse with the warg-powered wildlings. Squire Dalbridge is about to sacrifice his life by going to shoot the Wildlings that are stalking them. 

The squire bowed his head. "Leave me as many arrows as you can spare, brothers." He stroked his longbow. "And see my garron has an apple when you're home. He's earned it, poor beastie."

He's staying to die, Jon realized.  

And that’s almost right at the end of the chapter. This is the only apple chapter where Jon is NOT immediately confronted with a moral dilemma of loyalty or the making of choices. And Dalbridge’s self-sacrifice, his off-page death, all of that means it’s a more long-term projection of the dilemma. 

The next, final chapter, Jon and Qhorin Halfhand are captured and he is compelled to kill Qhorin to prove himself a turncloak to the Wildlings, in order to start his Undercover Operation. 

The flames were burning low by then, the warmth fading. “The fire will soon go out,” Qhorin said, “but if the Wall should ever fall, all the fires will go out.” There was nothing Jon could say to that. He nodded. “We may escape them yet,” the ranger said. “Or not.” “I’m not afraid to die.” It was only half a lie. “It may not be so easy as that, Jon.” He did not understand. “What do you mean?” 

(…)

Rattleshirt’s bone armor clattered loudly as he laughed. “Then kill the Halfhand, bastard.” “As if he could,” said Qhorin. “Turn, Snow, and die.” And then Qhorin’s sword was coming at him and somehow Longclaw leapt upward to block. The force of impact almost knocked the bastard blade from Jon’s hand, and sent him staggering backward. You must not balk, whatever is asked of you. 

(…)

He knew, he thought numbly. He knew what they would ask of me. He thought of Samwell Tarly then, of Grenn and Dolorous Edd, of Pyp and Toad back at Castle Black. Had he lost them all, as he had lost Bran and Rickon and Robb? Who was he now? What was he?

“Get him up.” Rough hands dragged him to his feet. Jon did not resist. “Do you have a name?” Ygritte answered for him. “His name is Jon Snow. He is Eddard Stark’s blood, of Winterfell.”

(ACOK, Jon VIII)

Ouch. From this point on, Jon will have to make his own choices, no longer guided by other people’s rules, other people’s honor. The choices will be harder, lonelier. They will be contradictory, they will involve even more tangible loss. They will involve dishonor. The reward is as distant as home. Sacrifice. Death.

But one day, the poor beastie will get an apple, he will have earned it. 

Apple = choice. The choice is the Watch. The bigger picture.

Apple quality: unknown. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fourth apple: ASOS, Jon I

As inconspicuously as above, the apple features in a memory of home, featuring not-yet-deserter Mance Rayder at Winterfell, meeting Robb and Jon up to shennanigans:

“I remember,” said Jon with a startled laugh. A young black brother on the wallwalk, yes … “You swore not to tell.”

"And kept my vow. That one, at least."

"We dumped the snow on Fat Tom. He was Father's slowest guardsman." Tom had chased them around the yard afterward, until all three were red as autumn apples. "But you said you saw me twice. When was the other time?"

"When King Robert came to Winterfell to make your father Hand," the King-beyond-the-Wall said lightly. (ASOS, Jon I)

A neat connection between desertion, vow-keeping and the events that led Jon to take his own path to the Wall. Before Meeting Mance, Ygritte has been praising the values of being “free” like the good Little Wildling Propagandist that she is. But Jon isn’t biting yet.

The following conversation gives the backstory of Mance Rayder’s desertion from the Wall. It was over a cloak, mended by a Wildling woman who tended to him while he was injured.

“And she sewed up the rents in my cloak as well, with some scarlet silk from Asshai that her grandmother had pulled from the wreck of a cog washed up on the Frozen Shore. It was the greatest treasure she had, and her gift to me.” He swept the cloak back over his shoulders. “But at the Shadow Tower, I was given a new wool cloak from stores, black and black, and trimmed with black, to go with my black breeches and black boots, my black doublet and black mail. The new cloak had no frays nor rips nor tears … and most of all, no red. The men of the Night’s Watch dressed in black, Ser Denys Mallister reminded me sternly, as if I had forgotten. My old cloak was fit for burning now, he said. “I left the next morning … for a place where a kiss was not a crime, and a man could wear any cloak he chose.” He closed the clasp and sat back down again. “And you, Jon Snow?”

Jon uses Mance’s story of visiting Winterfell to spin his own lie:

“And did you see where I was seated, Mance?” He leaned forward. “Did you see where they put the bastard?” Mance Rayder looked at Jon’s face for a long moment. “I think we had best find you a new cloak,” the king said, holding out his hand. 

What will the bastard do? Be troubled and keep his vows. So far, so true. But he did kill Qhorin Halfhand, he is pretending to be a deserter. Lines are a lot more blurry than they used to be.

Apple = choice. The choice is… the Night’s Watch. Shifting more and more toward simply the bigger picture. 

Apple quality: red autumn apple. 

Red silk patches. Conflicting values. Women. There is uncertainty on the horizon. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifth apple. ASOS Jon V.  BIG apple chapter.

His final confrontation as an Undercover Wildling.

This confrontation takes place at the abandoned tower and village of Queenscrown, which gets a closer description in the accompanying Bran chapter: 

No one had lived in the village for long years, Bran could see. All the houses were falling down. Even the inn. It had never been much of an inn, to look at it, but now all that remained was a stone chimney and two cracked walls, set amongst a dozen apple trees. One was growing up through the common room, where a layer of wet brown leaves and rotting apples carpeted the floor. The air was thick with the smell of them, a cloying cidery scent that was almost overwhelming. Meera stabbed a few apples with her frog spear, trying to find some still good enough to eat, but they were all too brown and wormy. 

(ASOS, Bran III)

The abandonment of Brandon’s Gift is a subject of conflict between Jon and Ygritte. A carpet of rotting apples. It opens the very next Jon chapter, as they are on the way to Queenscrown. Ygritte mocks the farmers who left the Gift as fools. Jon doesn’t take the bait yet. He briefly indulges in a fantasy of introducing Ygritte to Winterfell before being overcome with guilt and shame again. Ygritte is super great at reading his mood: 

“Might be after we could come back here, and live in that tower,” she said. “Would you want that, Jon Snow? After?”

He doesn’t think about it, doesn’t answer for a while, it rather reminds him of Ned’s Dream of Spring, the plan to resettle the Gift. The Starks and the Watch. 

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father’s name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged. “This land belongs to the Watch,” Jon said. Her nostrils flared. “No one lives here.”

Jon isn’t even tempted. Like, no, Jon, Bambi, you did not love this person, no matter what your telling yourself later. He doesn’t even really contemplate it. 

Instead of bonding them closer together, Ygritte’s invitation to make long-term plans has the opposite effect. It fans the flames of what divides them. They argue about raiding and rape. Ygritte spouts nonsense.

“You know nothing, Jon Snow. Daughters are taken, not wives. You’re the ones who steal. You took the whole world, and built the Wall t’ keep the free folk out.”

Ygritte, no, that is not why the Wall was built. You think they built a gargantuan magic ice structure to keep out Styr, Magnar of Thenn, or what? Really? Jon is also sceptical of this version of history:

“Did we?” Sometimes Jon forgot how wild she was, and then she would remind him. “How did that happen?”

"The gods made the earth for all men t' share. Only when the kings come with their crowns and steel swords, they claimed it was all theirs. My trees, they said, you can't eat them apples. My stream, you can't fish here. My wood, you're not t' hunt. My earth, my water, my castle, my daughter, keep your hands away or I'll chop 'em off, but maybe if you kneel t' me I'll let you have a sniff. You call us thieves, but at least a thief has t' be brave and clever and quick. A kneeler only has t' kneel." 

Ygritte is basically a bland political extremist. I could sympathize with her criticism of feudal culture if it didn’t come hand in hand with her passionate defense of violent theft and rape culture. Like, you paragon of intelligence, not everyone resides at the fair top of the food chain like you do in your peak fitness status within your warrior culture. But of course, rape is fun! Just bring a knife!

"Harma and the Bag of Bones don't come raiding for fish and apples. They steal swords and axes. Spices, silks, and furs. They grab every coin and ring and jeweled cup they can find, casks of wine in summer and casks of beef in winter, and they take women in any season and carry them off beyond the Wall."

Apples in a breath with women. People should not be “stolen”. But Ygritte thinks men who successfully abduct and rape women are sexy. She’s like Dany that way. There are some cultural divides that cannot be pretended away, and their entire conversation circles around it. Jon is plagued by terrible guilt, he tries to warn Ygritte that their plan is doomed, she (rightfully) suspects his loyalty to the Wildlings and Jon believes himself in love but he never wavers in his actual allegiance to the NW.

She grinned at that, showing Jon the crooked teeth that he had somehow come to love. Wildling to the bone, he thought again, with a sick sad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He flexed the fingers of his sword hand, and wondered what Ygritte would do if she knew his heart. Would she betray him if he sat her down and told her that he was still Ned Stark’s son and a man of the Night’s Watch? He hoped not, but he dare not take that risk.

GRRM is going out of his way to undermine the supposed romance by constantly referring to the conflict between them and the apples-of-choice are just all over. 

Anyway, Jon is thoroughly eaten by guilt over having to betray these human beings who are a vicious and brutal threat to the place and people he loves and swore to protect. His true identity is hinted at:

Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off. Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone. He did not want to die alone.

Ghost. Not Ygritte. Not the wildlings. Not the Watch, even. Ghost. Wolf.  

They arrive at the Queenscrown inn and an old man is captured.

Jon walked away. A rotten apple squished beneath his heel. Styr will kill him. The Magnar had said as much at Greyguard; any kneelers they met were to be put to death at once, to make certain they could not raise the alarm. Ride with them, eat with them, fight with them. Did that mean he must stand mute and helpless while they slit an old man's throat?  

The apples are rotten. Jon spends one last moment with Ygritte contemplating Queenscrown and then the “kill the old man” business starts. He struggles but ultimately refuses. Bran’s wolf Summer disrupts the tension with a bloody attack and Jon doesn’t hesitate to Escape. Like when they met, Jon didn’t slit Ygritte’s throat, but she slit the old man’s. He will not shoot arrows at her, but she did at him. Love. 

Thunder rumbled softly in the distance, but above him the clouds were breaking up. Jon searched the sky until he found the Ice Dragon, then turned the mare north for the Wall and Castle Black. The throb of pain in his thigh muscle made him wince as he put his heels into the old man’s horse. I am going home, he told himself. But if that was true, why did he feel so hollow?

Apple = choice. The choice is… NOT Ygritte. NOT the Wildlings. Time and again. But it also isn’t the Watch. Not as it had been before. Jon followed his instincts, his inner values, but it had a cost, it is hard. Jon is lost.

Apple Quality: rotten. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sixth apple: ASOS, Jon VII  

The Battle at Castle Black They await the attack, Jon and Satin share a meal. And they get a nod to Renly’s peach quote:

"Eat," Jon told him. "There's no knowing when you'll have another chance." He took two buns himself. The nuts were pine nuts, and besides the raisins there were bits of dried apple.  (ASOS, Jon VII)

Compare to Renly, which also took place before a nightly sneak attack. 

"A man should never refuse to taste a peach," Renly said as he tossed the stone away. "He may never get the chance again. Life is short, Stannis. Remember what the Starks say. Winter is coming." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. (ACOK, Catelyn III)

Peaches have an air of incest and hedonism about them, nostalgia and summer, Baratheons and Arya and Asha. The apple is different. It’s about choice, about conflicted loyalty and personal values, about identity and the bigger picture. (And again and again, they connect to women.)

Jon commands part of the fight, it’s grim. He recognizes some of the wildlings as they pepper them with arrows but cannot shoot at who he thinks is Ygritte. Wildlings die, his brothers die. The battle is brutal, Jon’s POV is distant. Satin remains by his side all throughout, grounding him. Jon remembers advice from Theon, from Ned. They eventually beat the wildling attackers with a horrifying fire trap on the stairs, they win. Immediately after, Jon goes looking for Ygritte, Satin still by his side.

The ice crystals had settled over her face, and in the moonlight it looked as though she wore a glittering silver mask. The arrow was black, Jon saw, but it was fletched with white duck feathers. Not mine, he told himself, not one of mine. But he felt as if it were.

We get a Dany-Val nod… 

The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet."

"My tongue is too numb to tell. All I can taste is cold." (ADWD, Jon VIII)

...and a lovely double-layered “not mine, not one of mine”. Not his arrows, but he feels guilty. She is not his pack, but he feels guilty.

She just smiled at that. “D’you remember that cave? We should have stayed in that cave. I told you so.” “We’ll go back to the cave,” he said. “You’re not going to die, Ygritte. You’re not.” “Oh.” Ygritte cupped his cheek with her hand. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she sighed, dying.

Jon struggles to let go of the fantasy. He is loyal to the cause of the Watch, if not the letter of the vows, but he knows now that his souls want more. He indulges Ygritte’s fantasy of returning because it’s the only thing he has, the only thing he can offer. 

Apple = choice. The choice is… the Watch. But painfully. Numbly. No passion. Duty. 

Apple quality: dried. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seventh apple: ASOS, Jon X 

Tormund’s daughter Munda.

After vicious attacking Janos Slynt for insulting Ned Stark during a hiostile interrogation in the previous chapter, Jon is sent to kill Mance Rayder under the pretense of parley to prove his loyalty. He is resigned and shame-filled, contemplating his future, where he will be remembered in honorless infamy.  Much bitterness, plenty of woe. His reception by Tormund is surprisingly jovial. They drink mead to honor their fallen Donal Noye and Ygritte, with surprisingly little bitterness. It helps Jon return some of his cheer.

"You bloody crows." Tormund's tone was gruff, yet strangely gentle. "That Longspear stole me daughter. Munda, me little autumn apple. Took her right out o' my tent with all four o' her brothers about.” Toregg slept through it, the great lout, and Torwynd … well, Torwynd the Tame, that says all that needs saying, don’t it? The young ones gave the lad a fight, though.”

“And Munda?” asked Jon. “She’s my own blood,” said Tormund proudly. “She broke his lip for him and bit one ear half off, and I hear he’s got so many scratches on his back he can’t wear a cloak. She likes him well enough, though. And why not? He don’t fight with no spear, you know. Never has. So where do you think he got that name? Har!”  Jon had to laugh. Even now, even here.

Autumn apple. Stolen women. Cloak. 

Stealing women was a hot topic with Ygritte and Jon is immediately concerned, but is reassured. The tenor of the conversation is conciliatory, while he is revealed to be loyal to the Watch, there is mutual respect. In Jon’s thoughts, Ygritte becomes a mentor voice, drifting away from the romantic woe of before. 

Easy for you to say, he thought back. You died brave in battle, storming the castle of a foe. I’m going to die a turncloak and a killer. Nor would his death be quick, unless it came on the end of Mance’s sword.

Similarly to Dany later, Jon is arguing with dead beloved abusers in his head, like she will do in ADWD with Viserys. Ygritte is less obviously horrific, but the “voices in my head” aspect and the sheer idealising that both of them engage in feels disconcerting. Never the less, we see Jon’s current identity status on Facebook is “turncloak”. Not Night’s Watch.

The rest of Mance’s “court” is less welcoming, but Mance draws him in for a private conference. The Horn of Winter is revealed, the mutual cause of the Wildlings and the Night’s Watch is identified.

“If I sound the Horn of Winter, the Wall will fall. Or so the songs would have me believe. There are those among my people who want nothing more …” “But once the Wall is fallen,” Dalla said, “what will stop the Others?”

(Dalla has the brains that Ygritte lacked. Why can SHE not be Jon’s mentor?) 

Mance offers to hand over the Horn of Joramun if they let the Wildlings pass through the Wall, or he will destroy the Wall in three days. Jon hesitates because he fears they will ransack the place, but he also has no negotiating credit with Thorne and Slynt. He contemplates just smashing the Horn, when suddenly Stannis attacks. The Wildlings are smashed, a helpless Jon enters the tent with Val to attend Dalla.

He is just... disillusioned.

Apple = choice. The choice is… the bigger picture. The Watch is headed by irrational scum, the Wildlings are no less dangerous to the North than they were before and Jon has no hope of saving his ruined reputation either way. He was about to murder Mance, then about to smash his bargaining chip, yet he has no ill will toward them. Only a depressed, numb resignation to preventing the worst of all outcomes. 

Apple Quality: autumn apple.

Again with the autumn apple. There are only 3 “autumn apples” in the books, all in ASOS. Jon I (above with Mance), Samwell II, and Jon X here. 

In Jon I it connected Mance’s disloyalty to the Watch to the red-and-black cloak given to him by a woman. Also Bael the Bard, deception and stealing. Jon consults his inner values, and chooses pragmatism. His break with “blind” honor will leave him flailing a bit.

In Jon X it specifically refers to a young woman being stolen. Jon consults his inner values, he chooses the bigger picture, but he’s frayed and his choice is interrupted. Stannis will offer him Winterfell. Ghost will remind him of who he is. Ultimately, he will become Lord Commander and his struggle with loyalty will cease for a long time.

What’s Sam’s autumn apple about?  They are listed with many foodstuffs that the angry NW brother’s at Craster’s after the fight at the Fist of the First Men expect to receive. Mormont just remembered the true purpose of the Watch. Gilly has just given birth to her son. Sam offers to take the boy, Craster gets mad. they bury a dead brother and the mood is mutinous.

“Apples,” said Garth of Greenaway. “Barrels and barrels of crisp autumn apples. There are apple trees out there, I saw ’em.”

A confrontation breaks out and they kill Craster and stab Mormont. Sam’s friends flee, the others raid and rape, Sam cradles a dying Mormont. Some wives approach and order Sam to take Gilly to safety. 

Gilly was crying. “Me and the babe. Please. I’ll be your wife, like I was Craster’s. Please, ser crow. He’s a boy, just like Nella said he’d be. If you don’t take him, they will.” “They?” said Sam, and the raven cocked its black head and echoed, “They. They. They.” “The boy’s brothers,” said the old woman on the left. “Craster’s sons. The white cold’s rising out there, crow. I can feel it in my bones. These poor old bones don’t lie. They’ll be here soon, the sons.”

The massive abundance of apples suggests a link to the abundance of women, to the connection to inner values over formal loyalty, to the “stealing” of Gilly to save her. To the massive bigger picture. With Jon it translates to his trademark quick-thinking pragmatism, with Sam it translates to compassion and identifying valuable information. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8th and final apple: ADWD, Jon V  - The Grand Appling.

ADWD Jon V is another big apple chapter:  you have to choose!

Much time has passed since the last apples were mentioned. Jon is Lord Commander and has sent away Sam, Gilly and maester Aemon. The Wildlings are south of the Wall. Food is a constant worry. Bowen Marsh is upset with Jon, Jon is super-diplomatic. Not. It’s time to bring provisions to the Wildlings at Mole’s Town. A Mirror to Dany in ADWD, Daenerys VI, bringing food to the Astapori refugees. The Wildlings are grumpy. Jon struggles to balance the culture clash between free folk, Stannis’ men and Wildlings.

Pig ignorance, Jon thought. The free folk were no different than the men of the Night’s Watch; some were clean, some dirty, but most were clean at times and dirty at other times.

Jon is much removed from his earlier woeful struggles or idealism. A weary pragmatism guides his every action. Grey.

Apples ensue:

"You can have an onion or an apple," Jon heard Hairy Hal tell one woman, "but not both. You got to pick."

The woman did not seem to understand. "I need two of each. One o' each for me, t'others for my boy. He's sick, but an apple will set him right." 

Hal shook his head. "He has to come get his own apple. Or his onion. Not both. Same as you. Now, is it an apple or an onion? Be quick about it, now, there's more behind you."

"An apple," she said, and he gave her one, an old dried thing, small and withered.

"Move along, woman," shouted a man three places back. "It's cold out here."

The woman paid the shout no mind. "Another apple," she said to Hairy Hal. "For my son. Please. This one is so little."

Hal looked to Jon. Jon shook his head. They would be out of apples soon enough. If they started giving two to everyone who wanted two, the latecomers would get none.

"Out of the way," a girl behind the woman said. Then she shoved her in the back. The woman staggered, lost her apple, and fell. The other foodstuffs in her arms went flying. Beans scattered, a turnip rolled into a mud puddle, a sack of flour split and spilled its precious contents in the snow. 

Apples are once again almost aggressively connected to choices. Apples or onions. Not both. You have to pick. 

Barring another meta, I can’t really say what the onion is supposed to represent. Some things that echoe Jon’s apple themes:

His sons were good fighters and better sailors, but they did not know how to talk to lords. They were lowborn, even as I was, but they do not like to recall that. When they look at our banner, all they see is a tall black ship flying on the wind. They close their eyes to the onion.  (ACOK, Davos I)

Denial. 

Dany nibbled at an onion and reflected ruefully on the faithlessness of men. (ACOK, Daenerys III)

Faithlessness.

The feast was a meager enough thing, a succession of fish stews, black bread, and spiceless goat. The tastiest thing Theon found to eat was an onion pie. Ale and wine continued to flow well after the last of the courses had been cleared away. (ACOK, Theon II)

Theon about to be ordered to attack Winterfell. Betrayal.

The last time it was life I brought to Storm's End, shaped to look like onions. This time it is death, in the shape of Melisandre of Asshai. (ACOK, Davos II)

Life and death brought by the same person.

Melisandre’s manichean world view vs. Davos’ more encompassing one:

"What if I am? It seems to me that most men are grey."

"If half of an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. A man is good, or he is evil."  (ACOK, Davos II)

Bless you Sam. 

Hungry as he was, Sam knew he would retch if he so much as tried a bite. How could they eat the poor faithful garrons who had carried them so far? When Craster's wives brought onions, he seized one eagerly. One side was black with rot, but he cut that part off with his dagger and ate the good half raw. (ASOS, Samwell II)

Considering apples represent the choice you make to serve an ethical bigger picture (not necessarily loyalty to an order), onions seem to show a contrasting duality of bad and good, a refusal to position oneself honestly, dirty compromises, the darkness in human beings. 

Davos’ entire arc circles around being a very decent human being who none the less supports a whole lot of questionable crap. Our resident kraken Theon is torn inside unable to choose between Greyjoy and Stark identity and becomes monstrous. 

Melisandre downright denies the existence of grey. The presence of bad cancels out all good.  Samwell, on the other hand, embraces the good while disregarding the bad. 

Ygritte smelled of onion. Dany eats wild onion on her dragon grassland chapter,  Jorah eats onion. Brienne has onion soup on her way to Lady Stoneheart. Jon offers the Wildlings onion soup after they burn their god’s for Melisandre in echange for safety. Dark compromises. 

So the choice between apples and onions is the choice to MAKE a choice. Stop hedging your bets or practicing denial, position yourself, one way or the other. 

The woman who refuses to choose, loses her apple, loses the fruit that will set her sick son right, loses her cance at following her inner moral compass and doing the right thing. 

There is a tussle, Jon tries to rally them with a speech. They are in a Mutiny at Craster’s Keep kind of mood.

“You want more food?” asked Jon. “The food’s for fighters. Help us hold the Wall, and you’ll eat as well as any crow.” Or as poorly, when the food runs short. (…)

“Fight for you?” This voice was thickly accented. Sigorn, the young Magnar of Thenn, spoke the Common Tongue haltingly at best. “Not fight for you. Kill you better. Kill all you.” The raven flapped its wings. “Kill, kill.” Sigorn’s father, the old Magnar, had been crushed beneath the falling stair during his attack on Castle Black. I would feel the same if someone asked me to make common cause with the Lannisters, Jon told himself. “Your father tried to kill us all,” he reminded Sigorn. “The Magnar was a brave man, yet he failed. And if he had succeeded … who would hold the Wall?”

Jon believes in the greyness of men, but he also believes in choices. You don’t have to be perfect to do the right thing. But you have to do the right thing. Or a thing, anyway. You have to choose.

There is more commotion. Jon decides to make it simpler.

"Hal, what was it that you told this woman?"

Hal looked confused. "About the food, you mean? An apple or an onion? That's all I said. They got to pick."

"You have to pick," Jon Snow repeated. "All of you. No one is asking you to take our vows, and I do not care what gods you worship. My own gods are the old gods, the gods of the North, but you can keep the red god, or the Seven, or any other god who hears your prayers. It's spears we need. Bows. Eyes along the Wall. (…)

He recruits, actively. 

“The choice is yours,” Jon Snow told them. “Those who want to help us hold the Wall, return to Castle Black with me and I’ll see you armed and fed. The rest of you, get your turnips and your onions and crawl back inside your holes.”

Apples yay, onions nay. Dany killed the slavers of Astapor, and left alive only children under the age of 12. Jon recruit ages 12 and up for the Watch, girls and boys. Dany killed 163 random slavers. Jon recruits 63 Wildlings.

By the time the last withered apple had been handed out, the wagons were crowded with wildlings, and they were sixty-three stronger than when the column had set out from Castle Black that morning. 

The apples win out. No more mention of onions in this chapter. 

The chapter ends on a grey note, uncertain but hopeful. 

Marsh was unconvinced. “You’ve added sixty-three more mouths, my lord … but how many are fighters, and whose side will they fight on? If it’s the Others at the gates, most like they’ll stand with us, I grant you … but if it’s Tormund Giantsbane or the Weeping Man come calling with ten thousand howling killers, what then?” “Then we’ll know. So let us hope it never comes to that.”

Hilariously, it is not the treachery of the apple-choosing wildlings Jon will have to worry about. 

The abundance of onions and apples in this chapter sets up the struggle Jon faces in later ADWD chapters. The bigger picture v. Arya. Apples are done, for now, the onions stalk him. He tries to strikes a balance. He hesitates, he sends Mance, he struggles. In the end, the Pink Letter sends him over the edge.

Apples v. onions.  Jon has chosen. 

Apples = choice. The choices is… NOT the Watch. Arya. The North. The bigger picture. House Stark. 

Apple Quality: withered. Like the very first apple. 

Jon stood tall. He told himself that he would die well; that much he could do, at the least. “I know the penalty for desertion, my lord. I’m not afraid to die.” “Die!” the raven cried. “Nor live, I hope,” Mormont said, cutting his ham with a dagger and feeding a bite to the bird. (AGOT, Jon IX)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In conclusion:

Apples signal the necessity for Jon make a moral choice according to his own personal values. 

Jon always has his eyes on the bigger picture. 

His choices becomes increasingly divorced from the concept of loyalty to the Watch.

There is a pronounced conflict between apple and onion, between moral choice and refusal to choose. Jon tries to walk the line between the letter of his vows and his values. He ends up choosing his values. It goes badly. 

The quality of the apples has a relationship with the ease of choosing. 

whithered apples are fairly clean choices, 

rotten apples are traumatic choices, 

autumn apples relate to choices influenced by the wisdom of women, the stealing of women. 

There is a future apple promised to “the beastie” as a reward. 

If we want to draw a connection to the show, Jon will clearly face another apples v. onions conflict and the need to choose will feature heavily. It will go badly. But there is the promise of home and reward.

#asoiaf #fruit symbolism #apples #jon snow #you have to choose #my posts

[greensword101]

Inquisitor!Kanan AU Pt. 1

Alright, this is going to sound stupid, but I’ve skimmed through a few fics where Kanan is an Inquisitor but is either a reluctant recruit or immediately becomes conflicted when he meets Ezra, his space son.

That didn’t make sense to me. An Inquisitor was a Jedi that fell to the Dark Side. And those who fall typically do so in a sense of “the road to Hell is paved with good intentions” at times or because they are disillusioned like Bariss was in the Clone Wars. In the event that Kanan ever turned to the Dark Side, I believe it would be for good intentions or because of his earlier characteristics as a Padawan (i.e. curiosity). It could be justified as Kanan was fourteen when Order 66 happened, but what if his master fell to the Dark Side prior to this right around the time she took him on as a student? Cue him becoming the Anakin to her Palpatine, except Depa genuinely cares about her student (ironic).

In this au, Depa Billiba had begun to lose faith in the Jedi Order right as she meets Caleb and she sees him as a kindred sou, especially after she learns more about the boy. One who is questioning the way of the Jedi in ways that the Council is very uncomfortable dealing with. Naturally, this feeling of isolation leads to Caleb trusting Billiba, especially when she states that the Jedi are afraid of people like him.

“But why?” Caleb asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Because, my Padawan,” Depa smiled, “the most dangerous weapon one can have is a weapon that can think for itself.”

Caleb, having never known his parents, having been considered an outcast by his peers, puts his faith in the first person to openly express faith in him and encourages his curiosity. Thus begins the decent of Master and Padawan to the Dark Side. Depa, who was drawn towards it due to her disillusionment of the Jedi and Caleb, who’s hunger for knowledge of all kinds would become insatiable as his understanding of the Dark Side grew.

When the Jedi Purge occurs, Caleb and Depa are spared from the slaughter, having deserted their Clone comrades and killing those who have attempted to take their lives. They go into hiding, taking work as bounty hunters or stealing whatever they can. Usually, it would be Jedi archives or artifacts that the Council wouldn’t have wanted falling into the wrong hands.

It doesn’t take long for them to be put under the Emperor’s radar and he orders them to be hunted down to join him as his assassins or die. Naturally, Depa and Caleb agree to serve as Inquisitors, out of pragmatism and because they felt flattered that their abilities were acknowledged by the Emperor himself.

Depa and Caleb stand out among the Inquisitors, being the only Former Jedi to be a part of the Master/Apprentice dynamic before the Republic fell. Caleb stands out due to being the youngest, but somehow just as brutal as the rest of their comrades as the First Sister and First Brother. The First Sister and First Brother quickly become a dreaded duo, due to their strong bond to one another and meshing together fighting styles of Light and Dark. After all, the First Brother considers “know thy enemy” to be the greatest teacher (after Depa, of course).

As the Empire looms over the galaxy, the Emperor soon realizes what a great threat the duo would become if they continued without challenge. Never mind the fact that overthrowing the Emperor never crossed either minds of the First Brother and Sister. They are content with knowledge for knowledge’s sake, freedom to act as they please, and with staying as a team. The Seventh Sister made the mistake of suggesting the First Brother was being groomed to be the First Sister’s boy toy. Her screams still echo to this day in the old buildings of Coruscant.

Through Vader, the Emperor sets up an “accident” to occur on one of the duo’s missions together. Caleb survives at the cost of his beloved mentor, who’s last words to him were “Run!” When he learns that the First Brother survived, the Emperor placed blame on Vader (true from a certain point of view) and redirects anger at his apprentice. It is a clever plan that he knew would lead to the First Brother either killing Vader and taking over as the Emperor’s apprentice or Vader dealing with a potential rival a move is made against him. Caleb knows this himself and he goes through a drastic change in personality.

His thirst for knowledge, unbeknownst to the Emperor, would lead to him desperately searching for hidden knowledge of the Force, such as saving the ones he loves most from certain death. At the same time, he becomes ruthless as an Inquisitor, isolating himself from others and seeking comfort in pleasures of the flesh and drink when the memory of his beloved mentor burns too painfully in his mind to function.

Jump to “Spark of Rebellion” time and without meeting Kanan, the chances of Hera meeting the rest of Ghost seem impossible now, right? Wrong! The Force works in mysterious ways, after all, and while she doesn’t find her crew through one person, she still manages to find the like of Ezra by herself on Lothal.

Ezra is still the same kid from canon: trusting no one, hard to think about others, a thief. And he managed to steal Hera’s heart when he tries to run off with her ship. Chopper stops him and a deal is made: work as her employee and Hera would forget about the kid trying to steal her baby. She also promises actual payment which manages to keep Ezra invested and maybe allows him to open up to her.

And through Ezra, they still manage to find Zeb and Sabine. Ezra has a brief crush on Sabine that evolves into a platonic friendship. Sabine still views the Ghost crew as a family. Zeb still smells. Chopper is Chopper. Hera is suddenly like a single mom with the distant uncle that suddenly decides to help her raise the kids.

Without a second actual adult - no, Zeb, you may be the oldest but you are at the same mental age as Ezra sometimes - Hera is probably more stressed than usual. She loves her crew to death, but it can be a bit much sometimes without a second hand to help.

But they are still the same force - no pun intended - to be reckoned with and get under the radars of both the Empire and Rebel alliance.

Ezra doesn’t know about his Force abilities for a while, not even when they are executing a rescue mission to extract an old Jedi Master named Luminara. It’s trickier without Kanan to do the mind trick on Stormtroopers, but Sabine and Zeb manage to distract the two guards in the end while Ezra sneaks in.

The first thing he notices is how weak and frail this “Luminara” lady is. The second is how he seems to feel her presence in his very bones, like an old memory. The third is another presence, a colder one that makes him shiver.

Enter the First Brother. The years since he’s turned have changed him drastically. He wears the Inquisitor uniform, with a black cape. His skin tone is pale as snow, like he hasn’t seen the sun in years. His hair is long and not held down by a ponytail (imagine it a bit like a lion’s mane) and his yellow eyes. piercing and seeming to see through Ezra.

He’s expecting a Jedi risking discovery to rescue the body of Luminara, someone who would hopefully give him a decent challenge. He’s not expecting a teenage boy who is clearly not a Jedi and clearly has never seen what a lightsaber looks like when the First Brother pulls one out.

Ezra in canon was aware of the Force existing and had been pleading with his mentor to actually teach him. Here, he’s thrown into a massive loop and straight up terrified of this new enemy who clearly wasn’t a Stormtrooper. His typical maneuvering doesn’t work when the First Brother is able to pin him down without making physical contact. To Caleb, this is just him barely using Force Stasis. To Ezra, it’s like he’s walked into a nightmare.

Ezra, now frozen both literal and in fear, has a new enemy blocking his only exit and no way to warn his team about the danger they’re in.

“How did you know Luminara?” The First Brother asked.

Ezra doesn’t respond, he isn’t sure his mouth can work and his mind is numb.

“You can still talk if you want to, kid,” the man added in a surprisingly gentle voice.

Somehow, Ezra finds his courage, “I don’t know her. I was trying to rescue her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a prisoner of the Empire,” Ezra tries and fails to snarl defiantly at the man, “She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.”

“You’re partially right,” the First Brother admitted, “She didn’t deserve the fate she got. But the Empire needed a honey pot to draw in the flies.”

“D-didn’t...?”

“Luminara is dead, been that way for a long time.” Out of the corner of Ezra’s eye, he notices the pale Mirialan’s body fading away like dust in the wind. His heart stills.

After a tense moment, Ezra collapses to the ground, having been freed.

“I don’t take pleasure in snuffing younglings,” the First Brother said dismissively. “Take your friends and leave this place.”

Ezra doesn’t even bother asking how the hell he knew Ezra didn’t come alone and simply runs out of the cell. He finds Sabine and Zeb and they all flee in one piece. He doesn’t speak for the rest of the day, too shaken from his experience with the new enemy to do anything.

He has no experience with the Force. He understands he is different, but not why. And he certainly doesn’t expect to see that man again after today.

Meanwhile, the First Brother, for the first time in years, feels something close to excitement. Someone who could use the Force, someone who clearly didn’t know about the Force until just then, someone that was on the side of the rebels.

He sincerely hoped his master was looking down on him in the afterlife, because he was going to become that kid’s new teacher whether the kid wanted him or not.

To be continued...

#star wars rebels #au #inquisitor!kanan #dark side!kanan #caleb dume #depa billaba #ezra bridger #hera syndulla #grand inquisitor #kanan is thinking of getting a space kid on the dark side #ezra doesn't know about the Force #for now #maybe ashoka will help him

[raphpanda21]

My city your mountains ,Stay with me Stay

Last Time

Bellyhand N1 chuckled to himself before settling comfortably back in his chair waiting for his charge to awaken and come downstairs for her departure.

It would be several more hours until Persephone came downstairs and required his escort. It was a another silent ride to work but N1 let it be. The Miss seemed to have a lot on her mind still and she would speak on it if she wanted to. Arriving at the garage she departed with a short goodbye before disappearing into the elevator.

N1 was more than right about Persephone’s mind. She had a rather restless night only able to get her mind to still after she made herself some honey and chamomile tea. She could only hope that work would offer enough distraction to keep her thoughts from straying to her worries.

In an attempt to start her day off right Persephone decided to stop at the company cafeteria and grab herself a latte with a double shot. Sure she might crash like a freight train later but by then it would be lunch and she could always recharge her batteries . Stepping out of the elevator she moved into the queue waiting to place their orders with the baristas. When her turn came she quickly placed her order before stepping to the side to await its delivery. Feeling her cellphone vibrate she pulled it out of her coat pocket smiling as she sees Hermes has sent her a text of a puppy with sad eyes followed by a text that reads where are you? She had just sent back a reply explaining her delay when a voice behind her caused her nearly to drop the already damaged cell phone.

Hades: Kore, what a happy coincidence meeting you here. Come for the coffee as well.

Her heart rate began to slow down from the jolt it had at being startled. She slid her phone to the safety of her coat pocket as she turned to smile at him.

Persephone: Yes, I need a little extra energy to get my day started today.

Hades chuckled at her response the sound drawing stares and whispers from those around them making Persephone fidget with the increased attention. Thankfully the fates were on her side and she heard the barista call her name.

Persephone: Well that would be me. Excuse me.

She moved around him to quickly retrieve her coffee doing her best to ignore the stares of the other patrons. Of course they were curious they all had probably seen the tabloid and not knowing her there was no telling what they might believe. She just needed to get to work and lay low. Hopefully the office gossip would die down quickly.

As she wove through the growing crowd she finally made it back to the cafeteria door and was just about to push it open when a hand reached over her head pushing it open for her.

Hades: After you.

Persephone slipped through the opened door Hades following a step behind

Persephone: Well, guess it is time I get to work. Wouldn’t want the boss thinking I am a slacker.

Hades chuckled at her attempt at humor

Hades: I am sure he thinks nothing of the sort but perhaps you could assuage any worries he might have about how you are adjusting to this internship by having lunch with him today ?

Persephone sipped at her coffee to try and hide the signs of anxiety his suggestion had created. On one hand it probably was a purely professional meeting he was suggesting but on the other hand it might be judged by outside observers as anything but. Even just innocently standing and talking with him her skin prickled from the multitude of eyes she knew were watching them. Lowering her coffee cup she looks up at him trying to look confident despite the turmoil her emotions actually were causing on the inside.

Persephone: I of course want to ensure that I am performing to the standards asked of me but I think perhaps having lunch might be too intimate of a setting. I would not want anyone to misconstrue the nature of our interactions as anything other than professional. I have already caused you enough trouble so perhaps it would be better for me to just meet you in your office.

Hades jovial demeanor dimmed at Persephone’s reply but he decided to try and liven the mood with a jape.

Hades: Don’t worry Kore at the very least you have made me seem less of bore in the eyes of the masses .

Persephone frowned her manner seeming to cool instantly towards him as she looked down suddenly becoming extremely fascinated by her coffee lid. Had he stepped out of line? Had his words upset her somehow? He would not get a chance to voice this out loud though because another party had entered the field. With a casual ease that Hades found enviable Hermes appeared draping his arm casually over Persephone’s shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze.

Hermes: Hey Persephone, see you got your bean juice! You ready to start the day ? I heard Ares is on the warpath up there so think it is going to be a killer today.

Persephone smiled up at her childhood friend thankful for the interruption.

Persephone: Ares started another war? Wonder what caused it this time? Is it serious?

Hermes grinned as large a Cheshire Cat his head bobbing in confirmation

Hermes: Oh yeah , with war comes other things like famine and greed. All of that combined can cause a major influx isn’t that right boss?

Hades wanted to pout at the interruption but put on a mask of indifference instead nodding his agreement. His response went unnoticed though as the hyper red head’s attention had shifted yet again.

Hermes: Speaking of war ravaged you alright there Thanatos? You look like something the Chimera dragged in.

Hermes chuckled at his own joke as Thanatos cut his eyes at him the dark bags beneath them making him look quite sickly.

Thanatos: Oh shut up your rooster head I am way to tired to deal with you right now.

Seeing Thanatos Hades mask slipped completely as he glared at him his visage beginning to darken slightly with his anger.

Feeling the intensity of Hades glare Thanatos turned and returned the glare with one of his own. Never one to enjoy glare offs Hermes loudly cleared his throat.

Hermes: Well then, guess grumpy should get an energy drink and we all better get to work. Old Helios waits for no one!

Persephone glanced between the two males concerned by their obvious aggression towards one another. With Thanatos’ arrival the number of stares had only increased. Was this what fish in an bowl felt?

Persephone: If I know Ares we won’t be having any breaks today. I really don’t think lunch will be possible if I am to pull my weight today Hades. Especially with as tired as Thanatos looks.

Thanatos: Gee thanks for the compliment.

Hermes: She isn’t wrong man. Your bags are darker than the river Styx.

Thanatos: Whatever, if war boy is on a rampage you both are going to look like me by the end of the day.

Hermes: You are probably right. You ready to head out Persephone?

Persephone: Sure ummm see you later Hades.

Hades could not hide his disappointment but there was no helping the current situation.

Hades: Of course. I will see that a meeting is set up on your calendar for us to talk. Try not to overdue it Kore. Ares can be a real headache.

Persephone: Oh trust me I know.

Persephone missed the surprised look on Hades face as she turned to follow the departing Hermes and Thanatos. Her having a familiarity with the God of war was something he never would have expected at all. It seemed Kore was full of surprises.

Thirty minutes later the trio were up to their neck in a sea of souls as far as the eye could see. It was a strange conglomeration of souls exhibiting calm acceptance mixed with the wailing and screaming of those who had been ripped from the land of the living quiet violently. To say it was jarring would be an understatement but with their combined efforts they began to make headway within a few hours and things had grown quiet enough to allow them time for a breather on a hillside overlooking the line of processed souls. Hermes just returning with water bottles passed them out before getting seated himself.

Hermes: So seriously, what happened? I don’t think I have ever seen you look this terrible and not been hung over myself.

Thanatos rolled his eyes taking a swig from his water before he replied

Thanatos: I wish I was hung over. I got home yesterday and found my place absolutely trashed.

Hermes: Seriously!? Like one of your siblings came by and crashed unannounced or like someone broke in?

Thanatos: The later unfortunately.

Persephone: That’s awful, was anything stolen?

Thanatos: If they stole anything I haven’t noticed it yet. I was up all night just cleaning the mess honestly. Haven’t really had much time to take a true inventory.

Hermes : Who do you think did it ?

Thanatos shrugged

Thanatos: Reporters maybe ? I don’t know. How does anyone know who commits a crime without catching them in the act. I will just have to get someone in to do some repairs and I guess get a security system installed to be safe.

Hermes: Dang that sucks man. What will you do in the meanwhile?

Thanatos: Make do. It isn’t so bad. It is not like my house burnt down or something. Everything will get fixed or replaced in time.

Persephone squeezed her water bottle the plastic popping and crinkling in her hold. This was her fault. It had to be because of her that yet again Thanatos life was being flipped upside down. She had to make this right. It was up to her to fix this.

Persephone: Come stay with me

Hermès and Thanatos: What?

Persephone: While you are working on getting your places back to rights you should come stay with me. There is a spare room at my place and it is the least I can do.

Thanatos: Uh, I don’t know I mean it isn’t exactly your place after all.

Persephone bit her lip at his words. Technically he was right but surely Hera would understand. She had placed her there to provide her safety so surely it would be okay if she extended the safe haven to someone else in need.

Persephone: It will be fine. You are my friend so I am sure she would understand.

Thanatos looked over to Hermès for support but found none as the redhead shrugged his shoulders.

Thanatos: Well, alright but only for a short while and you have to make sure your host doesn’t mind. The last thing I need is the Queen of the Olympian’s pissed at me.

Persphone: Of course! I will send her a text once we get off. I am sure she won’t care.

She would send the text of course but she had learned in the past that it was best to hold your cards close. Never give up information unless asked for it. She knew Thanatos was a good guy and no risk to her but Hera might not see it the same way. Better to just ask if a friend could stay with her and not give exact details unless they were asked.

Hermes: Sounds like a solid plan to me. Let’s get back to it. I think Ares has finally called it a day so if we are lucky we might catch up by the end of the day.

Thanatos groaned stretching and cracking his neck before standing up once more handing Hermès his empty water bottle.

Thanatos: You are going to jinx us with talk like that. I will start leading the next group in. Just make sure you have the right forms ready this time Hermes.

With that last barb Thanatos took to the air with a powerfuo flap of his wings. Persephone and Hermes made their way back down the hill and onto the frontlines once more.

#greekgods #loreolympus #inspired #drabble #persephone #thanatos #hades #hermes #princesss & cupcake series

[ysalamiri-queen]

2019 Fic in Review

Inspired by @myevilmouse I’m going to sum up all the writing I’ve been up to the past year. I’m really proud of what I’ve accomplished, and thanks to you all for the encouragement to put my ideas out into the world! This has been a year of trying new things, and really growing as an author I feel… And wow according to AO3 I’ve written about 400k words in the past 12 months, damn. So let’s get to the list, going from the beginning of the year to the end, and as always please heed the tags on these before reading.

Note: As I go back, I’m realizing a lot of the links were messed up or are just straight missing. I am on the Mobile App so things can get messy. Please visit my works page on AO3 HERE to see all of these on my page under JessKo and my other pseuds.

1 Late Night at the Slab

Idea: Filling a prompt for the Thryce server in which some, uh, unique Chiss anatomy was assigned.

Result: A 3-way with Thrawn, Arihnda, and Eli and my first foray into the more Xeno side of things in a Modern AU setting. Yeehaw!

2 The Trouble With Free-Roaming Ysalamiri

Idea: Based on some adorable ysalamiri cuddles art by @strength-through-order I wanted to write some Thranto fluff.

Result: Ysalamiri-filled Thranto fluff X’D

3 Inquisitor’s Debt

Idea: What if the Grand Inquisitor changed sides at the end of Rebels season 1?

Result: Some fun throwbacks with Obi-Wan and Caleb Dume leading up to Quizzy defecting with Ezra.

4 Ancient Stems

Idea: Eli Week drabbles based on the Vanto Week prompts.

Result: A silly buzz droid narrative with Thrawn and some cute slice of life Eli backstory/Ascendancy days bits.

5 Charnsuka

Idea: Kinky stuff with Lord Garmadon when he’s an Anacondrai.

Result: Kinky stuff with Lord Garmadon when he’s an Anacondrai. Sorry Zane!

6 Caged Like Prized Birds

Idea: Again inspired by the awesome Chiss anatomy and Thrux drawings by @strength-through-order , I wanted to craft a narrative around Armitage, as a young man, stumbling upon a clone of Thrawn.

Result: Man, this might just be one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, had so much fun plotting it out and the smut is mmm! Tentacles everywhere~ I’ve gone back to re-read this a lot, I’ll admit it. I hope you all enjoyed it too.

7 Quiet On Set

Idea: Must. Write. Talos.

Result: A cute little platonic x-reader with everyone’s favorite Skrull. This was my first MCU fic too.

8 Diagnostic

Idea: Wanted to apologize to Zane for the damages done in Charnsuka with some Glacier shipping fluff.

Result: A silly glacier thing leading to a bit of foolery. I’m happy with it!

9 Heron Soaring

Idea: A continuation of the plot line from Heron Rising with Kanan and Thrawn.

Result: Too many feels… but some great sex to soften the blow, Kanera too!

10 Patron

Idea: Responding to a tumblr prompt from @wukeskywalker regarding Thrawn commissioning LOADS of artworks of Eli.

Result: More Thranto fluff! I see a trend here…

11 Black Heron

Idea: Kanan x Pryce for @myevilmouse , I think this was our first ‘collaboration’ on something!

Result: Juahir hires a special someone to show Arihnda a good time!

12 Red Heron

Idea: @star-wars-rebels-4 is always an amazing wealth of ideas for Grand Inquisitor, and encouraged a work featuring him and Kanan.

Result: Delicious back alley smut when an undercover Jedi is caught!

13 Warm Homecoming

Idea: Give my and a friend's OCs some cute fluff.

Result: OC fluff and a vacation to Hoth!

14 sowing the seeds

Idea: Add something cute to the spank war project.

Result: Another contender for my ‘favorite thing I’ve ever written’ rank. Two chapters of pining, cooking lessons, and sweet slick smut.

15 Red Frost

Idea: After watching “The Evil of Frankenstein” with @sneakybunyip ‘s amazing movie night group, I wanted to do something fun with Victor and Hans.

Result: A fun little adventure fic with some huddling for warmth to boot. Victor and Hans are the hammer-horror-verse Thranto send tweet.

16 a setting sun to hide the ruins

Idea: What if I tortured Kanan to the point he turned evil and joined the Inquisitors (and went a little insane in the process)

Result: Instead of torture, let’s just use some serum that drives him mad. Perfect. Smut ahoy, pretty much a dead dove type fic.

17 Pinktown

Idea: When browsing abandoned towns in Florida, I came across Flamingo… what if Thrawn had been exiled here instead.

Result: An alternate history of Thrawn’s exile and eventual discovery by the Empire. Huge thanks for @badgerandk on this one for the perfect epilogue and beta.

18 the sun rises to only illuminate the stranger i have become

Idea: Setting sun… part 2! But it’s actually what happens before sun?

Result: How Kanan ended up where he is for ‘a setting sun’... lots of imp smut and again, it's sort of a dead dove style fic.

19 Frozen Over

Idea: Ar’alani x Eli Vanto

Result: Somehow me and my writing partner ended up at sensory deprivation focus on this one.

20 Shape of Honor

Idea: Well, this one started in 2018 but ‘finished’ in 2019. Still working on the epilogue. Lots of tweaks… If you are not familiar, this is my AU in which it explores how the Thrawn novel and Rebels show would be altered if Palpatine distrusted Thrawn from their first meeting and accused him of being a Chiss spy. Vaguely inspired by the film The Shape of Water.

Result: Well it's nearly a novel now, isn’t it. This was a great adventure in learning how to create compelling story arcs. I’m extremely satisfied with how it is shaping (lol) up.

21 Datura Stamonium

Idea: Thrawnbine ovi smut.

Result: Oops it has plot now, a whole backstory with Eli and such and so fourth. Will need further stories told…

22 Desert Entropy

Idea: Luke/Wedge modern AU shenanigans.

Result: Also pulled Nath/Wyl and the Rogue Squad/Alphabet Squad peeps into this. Set in Vegas, Luke and Wedge meet and have a cute little romance, but some legal troubles set them back (Palpatine, as always, is That Bitch™) Very happy ending!

23 The Great Eli and Thrawn Prank War

Idea: See Chapter 1: Mullet Thrawn

Result: This thing really grew up, and thanks to all the contributors for allowing me to join in! My contributions were: 7-Bombs Away! In which a bit of drama brews and Thrawn makes a paint bomb that forces him and Eli back into being roomates. 11-Tooka Troube 2: Electric Boogaloo in which Eli finds his quarters slowly filling up with Tooka plush toys, and then something huge goes off in supply. 17-The Bitch is Back In which who knew Thrawn could sing?!

24 Clipped Wings to Keep Us from Flying

Idea: Continuing the story line from Caged Like Prized Birds

Result: Dragging Eli and the OG Thrawn into this, seeing that their stories were left untold in the first work. Also Armitage and the clone are up to all sorts of cool things. Still a WIP, on the list to keep working on this year!

25 I’ll do what I can.

Idea: Some Ronan/Krennic feels post Treason

Result: A Ronan character study that I really needed to get out of my system and finally a stable alliance between Krennic and Thrawn!

26 Purple Heron

Idea: @punk--kenobi and I concocted some fun Kanan/Zeb/Hera smut featuring Lasat heat cycles.

Result: Ah this came out so cool, full of emotion and wonderful imagery. Massive kudos to @punk--kenobi for beta-ing my portion and contributing some of the best smut one can find!

27 Ninjago Angst Week 2019

Idea: Do some 1-shots for Ninjago Angst Week

Result: ow right in the feels. Each character got a highlight in their own ‘dark retelling of a canon or canon adjacent event’ chapter.

28 Vertigo

Idea: Thing’s don’t go right planetside for Eli, Pik, and Waffle in Treason.

Result: Big oof. I hope Eli can one day forgive me… I even put strain on the end game Thranto! Bittersweet ending and lots of angst.

29 More Than Just a Treat

Idea: What is Obi Wan up to in the desert…

Result: Aunt Beau and baby Luke baked him cookies obviously!

30 Datura Metel

Idea: Continuing the Datura cycle…

Result: Just how Eli ended up where he did in the first installation.

31 Here & Now

Idea: Some Thranto Fluff! For @jewelliffer

Result: A camping trip for shore leave! And a marriage proposal for extra sugar.

32 Monster Under the Bed

Idea: Benevolent Boogeyman Chiss

Result: Modern AU Thranto spooky sillies. Bit of an intense climax but they talk it out!

33 Haunted by Sentiment

Idea: Nath is in denial of being the Squad Dad for @glassprowlers

Result: Nath’s very bad no good oh so terrible day! It's very silly and I really like how it ended up, the title is way more serious than the story itself XD

34 Pulse

Idea: Werewolf AU Lavashipping

Result: Oops Kai is a werewolf! Good thing Cole is here to help him figure out how to press on.

35 Stories from Area 51

Idea: remember the raid Area 51 meme? I do! Gotta clap them alien cheeks!

Result: Oh no it got PLOTTY! Pretty much all of my favorite characters and ships cherry-picked and plopped down into a Men In Black style facility in the middle of the desert. I really have a thing for the desert huh…

36 Good Day

Idea: The “truth” behind the “Good day, Lieutenant Vanto” from Thrawn in Treason.

Result: Oh stars the FEELS! Thrawn is in deep water and he KNOWS IT! GAH!

37 Fur Ball

Idea: Chiss are mogwai/gremlins…

Result: Silly Thranto fluff. Thrass shows up too! Feeding them after midnight is actually a good idea here… Grow your own ideal man!

38 Came Back Haunted

Idea: A mission fic centered around the @peters-pumpkin-day prompts.

Result: Ice planet survival with Tarkin, Krennic, Galen, and Ronan.

39 Sewn Together

Idea: This drawing actually is what lead to the fic-

Result: A fairly unique reuniting of Thrawn and Eli after both return to the Ascendancy.

40 Spiked Heron

Idea: Oh no… Kanan gets himself in deep poodoo this time.

Result: Devaronians really like humans huh? The next chapter is half way written I swear it is coming soon!

41 A Colder Embrace

Idea: Thrawn/Purrgil/Ezra and Luke/Wampa for SW Rare Pairs.

Result: It's very cold on Hoth… and even colder in space.

42 Surround

Idea: Luke/Wedge for SW Rare Pairs

Result: Luke has to confront Wedge post ESB regarding what is, essentially, his deserting the Rebels.

43 What Happens Planetside…

Idea: Eli/Pik/Waffle for SW Rare Pairs

Result: heheh a scrumptious Eli sandwich! And surprise tentacles because, well, why not?

44 Hesperidium

Idea: Fluffy Kylux for the Kylux Secret Santa event

Result: Ah its so sweet you might get a cavity

45 Reanimator

Idea: Lovecraftian eldritch horror Thranto

Result: This is the sort of project that it takes 2 months to fine tune each chapter, so bear with me, but I can promise a wonderful, creepy ride is ahead!

46 Floral

Idea: Luke/Faro for SW Rare Pairs. Enjoy the Jedi lovin’, @myevilmouse

Result: Sex pollen and accidentally defecting from the Empire. Whoops!

47 The Harch

Idea: Bouncing off of THIS art by @mamidlo , we worked together to create this plot. Very much inspired by the Hammer Horror films, such as Dracula and Frankenstein.

Result: A fun and spooky romp of Kallus and Zeb getting trapped in a creepy castle featuring mind controlled drones and a species-obsessed Harch. This was my first time posting the entire story at once, too!

Wow, I can not believe how much has been written this year. Thank you all again for reading and kudos-ing and your amazing comments. I’d not be here without the support and love <3 Cheers to 2020 and much more fic ahead!

#ysalamiri-queen writes #year in review #too many tags XD so im not even goign to try

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Αιώνια αγάπη (DT AU), pt. 11

11: Mount Olympus

Summary: Returning home is all but what they wanted. What happens when they’re faced with their father once more? What happens with Y/N after she’s been left on Earth?

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word count: 2.3k

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Special thanks to @mutuallynotmutual for being in the story as Alyssa, @leonardo-da-vinsheep as Perry and @daddygraysonsbitch as Sara.

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Αιώνια αγάπη (DT Modern Greek god/frat! AU) MASTERLIST    

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Opening their eyes, Ethan and Grayson faced what they long forgot. Instantly forced to shed their human identities, they stepped forward in absolute shock, turning to one another as their eyes fill with tears and their hearts clench painfully inside their chest.

Apollo is the first to clutch his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt is missing and his body is now exposed almost entirely. Hermes looks down, his own body bare and his ability to speak stripped away with the growing lump inside his throat.

"Welcome back." The roaring voice made the brothers flinch, turning to face the one it belongs to.

"Easy, Zeus. Let them adjust for a moment longer." Hera steps next to the handsome god who had been revered for centuries, and with good reason. His hair is shorter than the brothers remember, a little darker as the brown tones come to life in the light breaching through the clouds above, his eyes just as dark with the lack of thunder he usually used at all times.

"You knew this would happen!" Hermes spat, rushing forward with rage bubbling inside, his vision clouded by overwhelming emotion as he wishes to harm his father and inflict pain. He wanted him to feel even an inch of his hurt, to share the agony for it felt like he couldn't bare it any longer. He needed to lash out, to rip someone apart for being tortured now when he finally found his peace.

Apollo stumbles after his brother, desperate to stop bloodshed, unable to handle losing him too. At this point, the most loved god of all felt like he was alone, blinded by his own darkness as he too wished to tear Mount Olympus to pieces and return to Earth, but he was more logical than his brother. He saw reason, where Hermes didn't. He knew violence would breed violence and nothing good would come of it.

Grabbing a hold of Hermes, Apollo wrapped his arms around hid body like a steel cage, pulling him back, whispering: "Not now, not like this. We will take vengeance, just not today."

"Ah...seems like nothing changed over the centuries." Zeus shook his head, stepping forth with his wife by his side, chained to him for all eternity. Hera fought him on their punishment relentlessly, however, Zeus never folded. He held her as a silly woman in his mind, no respect for her opinions. She was a body to him, just like his many mistresses. Zeus had long stopped being worth of worshiping.

"However, I will keep my word. You two have already regained your power and influence, simply by stepping foot on this sacred ground. However, you are expected to resume your duties and perform them well...All but inter-dimensional travel for Hermes, of course." Zeus gave Hermes a pointed look, seeing the never-ending hate in his son's eyes grow and the pleasure it gave him was immense. He enjoyed knowing he found love only to lose it so fast. He wanted him to suffer -  both of them to suffer and writhe in pain.

"You will remain in the underworld and do your job down below. You will only come back when your sister needs a ride home. I will give you a day to adjust. See your siblings if you will." Zeus pressed his lips, drawing them in as his light stubble took the space for a moment.

"If your break the rules once more, you will be turned to dust. No more chances, sons." And with a single flash of lightning, Zeus disappeared with their poor mother, not even a lock of her blonde hair remaining in sight.

"I want him fucking dead, Apollo. I want them all dead." Hermes clenched his fists tightly, enough to break skin of his palms as his nails dug deep into them.

Apollo clenched his jaw, barely keeping himself up straight and his mind clear, forcing the words through gritted teeth.

"And we will kill them. All of them. Until then, you have unfinished business with dear uncle Hades and I...I'll make sure to check if there is anyone who would stand with us on this matter." Grasping each other's forearms, the brothers closed their deal with a simple nod and a look of understanding.

Their shared love, Y/N, loved them both so much that she couldn't choose, not in her heart and not in her mind. She saw them both as beautiful souls, redeemable. She had faith in them, begged them to not ask her to make a choice...she begged them to stay.

They never wished anything more than to go back in time and say they want her, not selfishly as they acted this time around, but together...shared. They would accept that if it meant they would keep her. This loss is too much for anyone to handle.

It was time to stop and look at their loses, regroup and attack. Maybe there was time yet to come back to their girl left behind. In every world, there is no creature as desperate as a human being on the verge of losing love.

Looking around the cold and empty hall of marble filled with sparkling gold and bushes of golden roses coming out the floor and walls like vines meant to give the place a richer tone. The glass dome above left little to imagination as their view of the sky isn't obscured.

Sighing, Hermes looked to his left, finding a black, warrior skirt to the side, his skull fashioned pendant on its chain.

Apollo found his body is already clothed in a golden, warrior skirt and gladiator sandals, his helmet spiked and left to his right. His body was no longer dusted with gold, his tattoos remaining on his skin - the only reminder he was human. He picks up his helmet, wandering off to the side, finding the familiar hallways that leads outside and toward the lookout point.

Apollo used to spend a lot of time at the edge, watching the humans, choosing his next victims carefully. He could barely remember how that felt, but he wanted to venture out and let himself relive the old days.

Walking by the golden roses, the bush now bigger than ever as the wind picks up and the specks of their golden pollen sticks to him as it used to. The sky above him is darker, a shade of blue he knew Y/N like, the stars around shining brightly as if they are trying to cast away the dark inside his soul. Letting his helmet sit beside him, Apollo sits on the edge and his eyes focus to where he last left Y/N at, trying to catch a glimpse of her beautiful eyes, just one last time.

Confused about his brother's action, Hermes follows after with heavy heart and heavier footsteps. The skull pendant swings with every step, hitting his hip each time. Hermes expected Apollo to find Artemis, Athena or even their mother if possible. Instead, he found his brother on the edge of the heavenly mansion, casting his eyes down toward a planted that looked vaguely familiar.

"Anything I can help with?" Hermes asked, genuine and willing to help. He'd do anything to make things better for both of them, to give them some hope in the cosmic joke their existence turned into. No one ever weeps for gods of the old, believing they're either dead or they've abandoned humans to suffer and die. No one understands they too hurt. They too wish they were dead.

Turning around, throwing a look over his left shoulder, Apollo nods, beckoning Hermes to join him on the edge.

"I'm trying to find Y/N. Come."

Lips parting, Hermes felt his feet move on their own devices, bringing him to his brother's side and sitting down to look for her himself.

"Do you think she's doing better than us?" Hermes asks, almost fearful to know the answer to that question.

"I hope so. We lost her...she lost us both."

Summoning the globe that helped Zeus keep track of them all this time, Apollo focused more as he watched the glass turn murky. Shaking it, the vision cleared, both of them leaning in to see it closely - just to have one look on her life.

"I'm fine, Sara." Y/N sighed, swinging on the porch swing she had installed in their newly build sorority house, her heart heavy but her lips spread into a smile.

"I know you say you are, but they both meant a lot to you. Today is especially hard." Sara tried to get the young leader of her sorority to open up, knowing well what it means to bottle things up until one explodes, obliterating everything in its vicinity.

Standing up, Y/N walked past Sara who remained seated, Alyssa and Perry who stood at the banister, walking down the five wooden stairs until she stood on the grass in front of the house. She could feel the worried looks exchanged behind her back, their care for her well being very much welcome, but unnecessary. Y/N couldn't exactly tell them the truth about Ethan and Grayson, now could she? How could they ever understand the pain behind her now tear-filled eyes?

Loving them felt like being one with the world. Like being on the craziest ride life had to offer. Like they were a comet that flashes across the sky once in a lifetime, leaving the wandering soul in a constant search of it, to see it once more, even if it knows the comet shall never pass the sky for as long as they live. To love them meant to have the secret of life at the palm of your hand and to lose that all at once.

These feelings she has for them can't end until her body ceases to function and her soul is released for whatever comes after. She hopes that somehow they are embedded into the very fabric of her soul, that the love they shared will endure. Even on her darkest days her love for them rides underneath it all, keeping her mind from sinking into the mire that claimed her in the past when she lost her mother. She knows that however deep she fears she has fallen, they will be there like solid ground to steady her, give her time to climb back into positivity. That's why she stands at her porch every morning as the first light shines in the morning, hoping to catch a glimpse of Apollo, her Grayson. And that's why she takes the same position at sunset, waiting for the last ray to leave the day for the darkness to give her a glimpse of Hermes, her Ethan.

"You keep saying you're fine, but it doesn't make us worry any less." Alyssa takes a step down, looking at her dear friend as she wraps her arms around herself, her hair flowing back with the wind.

"It's been three years since they've gone. I'm over it. I'm fine." Managing to keep her voice leveled, Y/N takes in a shuddered breath as a tearless sob shakes her body and a shiver runs down her spine. Closing her eyes, her lips part slightly, tears making tracks on her cheeks - two tears, one from each eye - one for each god.

"THREE YEARS?!" Hermes jumped to his feet, nearly falling of the edge as he gripped his hair in a state of shock, his heart pounding so fast he feels himself loosing ability to think properly.

"It took us three years to come back through the spell. She's been alone for years. All alone." Apollo closes his eyes, a faint, desperate sob escaping him as the vision of their girl faded.

She looked different, her hair shorter, her eyes darker and her face giving off the impression she's worn out from life's trials. She seemed...empty.

"We need to go back. NOW." Hermes growls out, kicking a rose until it rips from the bush and falls off the ledge.

"How? Huh?" Apollo grabs his brother by the shoulders, shaking him violently into silence.

"She's in danger if they ever learn she killed Hecate. She's in danger because they can use her as leverage to make us do anything they please! She's safer on Earth until we sort everything out." A voice of reason, Apollo calms Hermes enough to sit back down and look at the globe one more time, noticing Y/N walking through a saffron garden in front of their houses.

"Saffron?" Apollo wonders, confused as Y/N seemed to be over her lineage and saffron represented Hecate. It was her flower.

"Must be what remained of Hecate. The dust she turned into must have brought saffron fields all around the country to life. After all she was a goddess of not only death, but life as well."

Y/N looked up at the sky, smiling as if she could see them up there, watching over her, the wound on their hearts still fresh and bleeding, whilst her wound turned into an old scar that hurt once in a blue moon.

"Mommy! Mommy!" A child's voice comes through, cheerful and fast approaching.

Y/N turned swiftly, lowering herself to her knees until two little humans ran straight into her open arms, each on one side as she lifts them up and twirls them around.

"I'm right here babies. Right here." She mumbles, kissing each toddler once before adjusting her grip, both of them having their little arms over her shoulders as they looked up at the sky.

"Is daddy looking at us?" The little girl with sparkling brown eyes asks quietly, shyly looking up before hiding herself in Y/N's neck.

"Is he, mommy?" The little boy on her other side repeats the question more boldly, a mischievous glint inside them.

"Yeah. Once in the early morning and once at nightfall, my loves. Now come, it's bedtime!" She puts them down on the grass, chasing them back to the house.

However, the gods who couldn't quite comprehend what they're looking at paled, their hearts coming to a stop more than once, screaming in unison:

"WHAT THE FU-"

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Tags: @mutuallynotmutual @lanadeldolans @xalayx @accalialionheart @gia-kerks @historyheart  @heyits-claire @daddygraysonsbitch @fallinginlove-16  @lanadeldolans @beautifulfound @thearachna-kid  @dinnerwiththedolans  @graydolan12 @justanotherfangurl272 @dxlansfxck  @godlydolans @flowery-dolan @dominatedolans @buckysjuicyplums @ethanhes @dolandolll @dolanstwintuesday

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #dolan twins #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan x reader #apollo #hermes #dolan twins greek god au #ethan dolan au #grayson dolan au #ethan dolan x y/n #grayson dolan x y/n #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fic #Greek Mythology #GREEK GOD AU

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, HIRAYA! You’ve been accepted for the role of TITANIA. Admin Rosey: We finally have our Titania! I could scream it from the mountain tops how excited I am that you will be playing our beautiful, our wickedly intelligent, our incredibly complex Titania. They were honestly one of my absolute favorite characters to write and I had begun to lose hope that anyone would breathe life into them. But Hiraya, you have captured their voice so well, their motivation, their traits. All of it. You have captured them in a single application and I couldn’t be more pleased. You have brought us the second piece to our Fae Overlords. And now we can revel in their disaster!  Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Hiraya.

Age | 20.

Preferred Pronouns | She/Her.

Activity Level | I am generally busy with schoolwork and my thesis, but I am usually on every day, and if not for replies, I am available for plots and other discussions. I can generally write replies every two to three days, but in particularly busy weeks, usually just on the weekends. I think I could rate myself at 6-7/10, numerically.

Timezone | GMT+8.

Current/Past RP Accounts | Past: [x] [x] And of course, I have my wrathful son, Easton! [edmund]

IN CHARACTER

Character | Titania; Theodora Moreau. [I would like to use Medalion Rahimi as their faceclaim, and age them down to 28 years old, please!]

Theodora Reine Celestine Moreau.

(Theodora; God’s gift. Reine; queen. Celestine; heavenly.)

Lavinia Moreau could not decide on a name, eventually gave up, and decided to simply give them all – and the woman did not only give them all these names, along with her family’s own, Moreau, but gave them all the love, riches, and attention that anyone could have ever asked for. “You are God’s gift to me, pomme d’amour,” candy apple, she calls them, fondly, punishment for the stolen apples clearly not on her mind that day she found the little girl. “And you shall grow up to be the heavenly queen of our empire. I am sure of it.”

What drew you to this character? |

Ethereal and exalted, dignified and divine. It was not only in the way they held themself, the way their head was always held high as if a crown was placed there, or the way they spoke – with a dream-like quality and a richness of vocabulary that lets one know they are in the presence of a heavenly being, brighter than the sun. It was, more than anything, evident in the very weaves of her soul – of her beautiful, beautiful mind (for I envision that Titania considers the soul and the mind to be one and the same).

However, much like a young god, they were heavenly, and yet still had the trappings of a mortal: laced with pride, gripped by their own pain and suffering, and living out their own personal hell inside their mind.

Titania was born into cruelty and filth, young eyes tainted by the scenes of horror in the streets of Verona, learning early on to fight tooth and nail for survival. The streets give no one any choice, for it has never been kind, and those who had the misfortune of having nowhere else to turn to but its puddle of blood and sin have to live every single day with fear and survive with their own brand of bravery, much like rats. They were a rat back then, and they have not forgotten and never will forget. They have learned a great many things from their time in the streets, but they knew they would never want to go back to such a lowly life of desperate hunger and piteous violence. Yet all of the memories were ingrained deep into their bones, the knowledge locked away and kept until they prove useful. But for the eyes of those outside their inner circle, they perpetuate the legends, the tall tales of their own origin that cover the truth of their true beginnings, to bury the sad truth of a childhood remembered through phantom aches of a hungry belly, and a gut eating away at itself to remind them how the most basic of needs of their needs becomes luxury when they have nothing.

Lavinia was the beacon of hope, the bright ray of sunlight that penetrated through the darkness of their life. Salvation and love and everything right in the world, in the form of a woman who is both their savior and mother. For years, they have both been awash in happiness – each one the savior of the other. But Titania should have known it could not last. Should have known that the universe liked to play its cruel games and could grant happiness as easily as it could take. And so the bright ray of light in her life ceased to shine, and their body ran cold and numb before the pain set in, more visceral than the pain hunger could bring to their gut, more painful than blood spilling from their veins. The pain ripped apart every fiber of their heart and pressed down upon their ribcage, and the devastating pain of this loss took hold of their entire body and made its home there, never to leave again.

They knew of pain more than they knew of love, now, and their mind refused to let the universe win every single second it breathes despair down into their helpless lungs. They had to create happiness in its pure form, had to believe that they need not rely on the vast uncaring universe for it anymore.

The pain has paved the way for their creative mind to shine, has given it avenues to soar, to fly high, and achieve great things. Titania has become a queen of the empire left to them by a loving mother and her wealthy name. And Titania has become a young god in their own right, one who stands at their pedestal and looks down upon the veins of the city they have grown to love, imagining all the ways their creation would color the streets their bones knew so intimately, and imagined how happiness would soon come for all. The happiness that they would mercifully grant this city of pain and suffering, with all the benevolence of an ethereal and heavenly queen.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

FENDING OFF THE SLUAG; The Sluag are the nightmares of the fae, the horde of darkness that comes now and then, the ones the fae desperately try to fend off. To them, Nikolai Borisov is of the sluag, their nightmare made flesh, words of taunt irking them to no end. He was one of the greatest mistakes they have ever made in their life, and they regret what has happened every single moment they see the man’s smirk and their wicked smile. Titania have been pushing off all their taunts for so long, that they want to finally silence the man. And though they are not likely to kill the arsonist, they would yearn to humiliate him, to bring him down. Whether they had to do it themself, or delegate it to someone else, it did not matter to them, as long as they witness the man’s humiliation, as much humiliation and embarrassment that he has brought them.

THE QUEEN AND THEIR CONSORT; Orpheus, ruler of his own underworld. Zeus to their Hera. They did not know what kept drawing them back to the flame. Had they been fooled by their own mind? Do they not truly understand love? They have always believed in the simple chemical nature of love, in the biology of it. But perhaps it is truly an illusion to try and control that which, millennium of poetry and stories have proven too wild to tame. Perhaps they are not as autonomous of their own emotions as they believed. I want to see what depriving themself of Oprheus’ touch will do to them, how far they could it take it before they eventually give in, and truly realize that there are some mysteries of the universe that even their own powerful mind could not even presume to control, give in once again to their heart and let it take control.

BLOOD OF THE FAERIES; The creation of the sangue is a highlight of their life – it is their life’s work and they will take every single step towards its success. I envision them using their own practice as a psychiatrist as a cover for their true purpose among the Capulets, by taking in clients in the guise of “patients” and have their dealings in their own clinic, which would have just been eastablished. I also see them testing the sangue on their test subjects here and recording their responses before they are absolutely certain it is ready for the streets of Verona.

SOARING HIGH/ DEVASTATING LOW; Once their creation hits the streets – and for it to succeed and replace the drug of the Montagues and put them out of business. I would like to see if this could somehow fill this hole in the center of their soul, if it could finally make them truly, genuinely happy. Or, the other outcome – for it to fail and knock them back down even further and see if it could be what finally makes Theodora give up on everything, or if it would only push them further to achieve even greater heights. Would they succumb to the hopelessness or would they rise back up again and power through the pain? Or would they simply break?

A SACRIFICE OF SOULS; Mikael and Celeste. They have been testing the sangue on the poor unfortunate souls which fascinate them to no end, but even though they wanted more time with their subjects to really observe the long-term effects, it was not possible. Mikael’s work and Celeste’s allegiance proves to be crutches to her plans of long-term testing. However, with recent developments, with Celeste in their clutches indefinitely, they see it as a perfect opportunity to do what they have always wanted to do.

THE PHOENIX AND THE FLAME; Companionship for information – it was the dyamic they have settled into, and Theodora revels in it. They have often wondered, however, if Halcyon, who was perceptive enough to realize that Theodora would be useful, would also be perceptive enough to notice that they were holding back. Keeping some things for themself. I would like to see what could happen if Halcyon would confront them about this, and what it would do to their relationship.

A BABE IN THE WOODS; Titania sees potential in the young saint of Verona, and surprisingly, could also see quite a bit of themself in the young woman. Perhaps they could assuage the guilt that has taken residence in their heart since their mother died, could make up for the time they had taken for granted the love that was given to them when they got too settled and comfortable in their new life. So I see Titania wanting to protect Catherine, providing her the knowledge they had, giving her reprieve from the violence that the brewing war would bring. And they would see it as a homage to their own mother, an act of following in her footsteps, doing for this Daly girl what Lavinia Moreau did for them.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes, I have already sold my soul to this tale. I will gladly accept all the pain and suffering.

IN DEPTH

In-Character Interview:

What is your favorite place in Verona?

What does your typical day look like?

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

It was understandable, of course, how anyone from outside the circle would desperately seek to find truths about them, would crave the knowledge and map out the inner workings of their mind. Who would not want to tear apart and dissect a god, to see if they bleed just like mortals do? To see if they share the visceral internal pain that is a part of life and living? And though Verona is a pantheon, if one wanted to know about pain and suffering, they would not have chosen a better god to dissect – Titania and torment are lovers bound in a marriage neither could get out of.

So the bright-eyed young girl asks her questions, every now and again, throughout the night. Lying naked, creamy white long legs splayed across their own soft sheets. They held no affection for this girl, but they have seen Oberon with a girl just like her, and they wanted to know how the warmth between her thighs were any different to their own. They study the girl’s face and decide there was nothing special about her at all, but they were feeling merciful, so they will heed the questions.

“Verona is amazing, I’m so happy I chose to place for vacation! You live here, you probably have a favorite place, don’t you? Where is it?” she blabbered, excited eyes shining. “What’s your favorite place in Verona?”

Theodora takes a sip of her tea and looks out her windows to watch the sun rising, pushing up against the darkness and making the sky bleed, so the sun could finally shine and illuminate the word again. “All of it, darling,” They answered, sharp, dark eyes meeting the stranger’s hazel. “I have a deep fondness for the entire city,” Even the parts beyond the bridge, even the streets she swore she would never go back to. “I cannot, in good conscience, tell you that I favor one part of it more than the others. I love them all, equally.” Even darkest parts. Even the people. And because they knew it did not concern the young woman, they failed to tell her that this is what drove them to create the sangue, to help the people of her city, her home, to consume happiness, to feel it dusting their lips and coating their tongue, streaming down the river of their depraved, sinful, tormented blood. In a way, they supposed it must have been this which attracted them to Orpheus in the first place – and though he is unwittingly a voice of the downtrodden, there was no changing the fact that he is considered such. And Titania – Titania desires to become the savior of the people in their own way. The God they all worship made the people of Verona suffer, but they have been kneeling at the wrong altar. Soon, they will know this. Soon, they will know that it is by Titania’s shrine that they must offer their prayers and hymns.

“Okay, I guess that’s valid. I don’t think I could name my favorite song if you ever asked me, I like all of the music I listen to,” she plowed on, “I mean, that’s like, why I listen to them.” Titania quirked an eyebrow, nodding their head slightly, holding the young woman’s gaze, eyes never leaving. It was in their nature to be suspicious, and they looked for any sign of duplicity in the woman’s face. “Is that tea? Earl grey? Green? Mint? Chamomile? Or wait, is it jasmine?” she asked, pushing herself off the bed and padding off hurriedly to where Theodora stood, small and stubby fingers closing around theirs and pulling the cup down to take a peak. “Jasmine,” they answered, a smile blooming in their bare lips, devoid of their usual dark red lipstick. “Your name. I did not forget, in case you were wondering, bella.”

Jasmine smiled and looked up to meet their eyes. They were silent for a moment, until Jasmine twirled around, finally landing on the bed. “Is this what you do every day? Wake up early, drink tea, and then, go… I don’t know? To work? What does your typical day look like?”

“You are a curious one, caro gelsomino,” they say, setting their cup down and occupying the seat by the window, facing her, still. These questions raise alarms in their head, and they watch the other, hawk-like. To tell anyone their favorite place could mean they might seek them out in there, might wait for them to be in that place alone, vulnerable. “But there is not much to know. In fact, you have already guessed half of it. Had you continued, you needn’t hear my answer at all.” Jasmine frowned slightly, but not in annoyance. Instead, it was a frown of deep thought. “So you go to work,” she said, repeating absently. “You told me you work as a psychiatrist,” she said, looking up for confirmation, which they gave her – a small patient nod. “Have you ever been, like, really scared you’ll make mistakes when treating your patients? Like, what if something goes totally wrong? I feel like you can’t make any mistakes, but everyone makes them.” She leaned back on Theodora’s bed, placing her palms behind her, her arms supporting her body. “So I just wanna know, what’s the biggest mistake you’ve done so far?” “None,” they answered, automatically. Mortals might know of the god’s transgressions at times, but they’ll be damned if they would tell anyone about their biggest mistakes, to let them hear it come out of their own mouth. “I have never made any.” They punctuate this with a carefree shrug, lips curved in an easy smile, though their eyes remained sharp and calculating. Why would they tell her that every single day, they regret not being there for their mother when she took the last few breaths of her life? Why would they ever tell her how they regret ever sharing their bed with the likes of an arsonist like Nikolai? Or tell her that they regretted every single night they spent tangled up under the sheets with Orpheus, and not ending his life? There is no good reason for her to know. No good reason for anyone to know their secrets.

“Never? Wow. That’s– amazing,” fake reverence, disappointment in her tone. Titania tilted her head and watched the slightest ticks in their features, watching the gears of their brains moving, rubbing against each other in a frantic motion. “Do you even find anything difficult at all? I feel like you could just do anything. What’s the most difficult thing you’ve ever done?”

“Once, I had been assigned a patient who was a pathological liar,” they said, pointedly meeting her eyes, and watching her squirm slightly. Spy, they thought. Trying to weasel out as much information as she could about the Capulet’s enigmatic emissary. “She simply could not stop the lies that spilled out of her tongue. I found her to be very difficult to deal with, but as you know, I never make mistakes. So she was, accordingly, dealt with.” The threat in her words were subtle, but if she was who they thought, it would ring loud and clear.

“I heard two mobs are fighting here.” They smiled slightly at her boldness, keeping up the ruse, with her pretending she did not know about who they really were, pretending not to think anything of what Titania had told her earlier, or them pretending she is an innocent tourist from California, backpacking across Europe, and sleeping with a strange Verona woman because she was doing all kinds of explorations.

“What do you think of the war between them? Doesn’t that break apart the city you love so much?” She met their eyes, and the flecks of gold in them shines, glinting. The small smile that curved in their mouth only widened and grew, blossomed into something lethal and wicked. They had no idea who this girl was, but they intended to find out. Their instinct was telling them she must be one of those who despised all of them – both Capulets and Montagues – and wished for all their deaths. One of those who despised how they all ruled in Verona like the new gods and goddesses, atop an Olympus of their own, creating their own pantheon. Titania stood up and grabbed their phone from the nightstand, pressing it to their ear, their left hand reaching over her face, index finger stroking her jaw gently. “Moth, instruct Quince and Flute to lock down the entire manor. Immediately.” They said no more, dropped their phone back on the nightstand, gentle fingers now holding her jaw in place.

“You are never getting out until you tell me who you work for, ‘Jasmine’.”

In-Character Para Sample:

A year before their graduation from medical school, Lavinia Moreau died. Asleep among the many textbooks and journals they had been perusing earlier that night, they were awoken by the call. ’It was her heart, Madame. Cardiac arrest. I am terribly sorry.‘ And so were they. They were terribly sorry they were not there, terribly sorry that the last time they had spoken to their mother was ten days ago, when she asked when they were coming home to visit her again, talked about a marvelous new painting she had acquired from an auction, about redecorating – “the loveliest shade of red, pomme d’amour, I’m telling you, you must see it!”—and little did they know it would be the last time they would ever hear her voice, the last thing they talked about was the redecoration of the library Theodora had asked for, with the color of red, like an apple, just like what their mother has always called them Pomme d’amour. Candy apple.

It started then, the tears. The sobs, the rage. They tore apart the pages of the journals they had been reading, the ones that kept them from coming home all this time to see their mother, the godforsaken latin honors they were vying for to make their mother proud. In the end, none of it mattered, because they were not even able to see their mother before they died, not able to whisper how much they loved her, how thankful they were. That she was God’s gift to them as much as she thought Theodora was to her.

“Je t’aime, Maman,” they whispered to the wind, rocking back and forth while they sobbed on the floor of their dimly-lit room, hoping that their words would reach the netherworld, would reach their mother’s soul and would latch on to the heart that had stopped working and tore her away from Theodora and the world of the living. “Je t’aime, Maman. Je t’aime.” They whispered over and over again, as they drowned in a river of their tears, hearing the sound of their heart getting ripped apart.

A week later, they held their mother’s ashes close to their body as they sobbed yet again, nostrils detecting the faint smell of fresh paint, their legs splayed on the floor of the library she had enriched for her darling, intelligent child. They remembered all the lessons they had received on etiquette, manners, all the trappings of high society, lovingly delivered by their mother in this very room.

“Forgive me, Maman. Please, forgive me,” they whispered into the wind once more, hoping their mother would hear. And from this tragedy, il sangue di faerie was born. From this tragedy, Theodora Moreau began developing happiness in its purest form, to rid everyone of pain, to take it away and replace it with an exalted kind of jubilance to brighten this dark, dark world.

Extras:

MOCK BLOG.

reinadelafey.tumblr.com

HEADCANONS.

Their full name is Theodora Reine Celestine Moreau, for the late Lavinia Moreau could not decide among the three of which name to give dark-haired blessing of a girl that arrived at her hearth and home, and so she gave them all three. “God’s gift – a heavenly queen,” Lavinia told them. “It’s the perfect name for you, bambina.” And perhaps subconsciously they have tried to live up to the name they have been given, to own it and become it, down to the last atom of their being.

Theodora graduated from the University of Bologna with a degree in Chemistry (and latin honors to boot), which they turned into a pre-med, when they decided on a whim that they wanted to become a psychiatrist. The human mind has always fascinated them, and why not combine their fascination for it, with what they have learned in the four years they have studied matter and the atoms that make up the entire universe? They got into medical school immediately, and after four years, became a resident at the Hospital Villa Santa Giuliana. After completing their residency, they established their own practice in the Capulet side of Verona.

They used their psychiatric practice as a cover for their emissary work, accepting clients as “patients” and having some of their dealings with them in their clinic. In their third year of residency, they were allowed their own clinic, and no one at the hospital bat an eye, if they ever noticed anything, due to their vast connections (all forged by the Moreau name) and their incredible reputation in the field of Medicine.

They were 22 years old when their mother died, and six years later, the pain that demanded to be felt still kept grinding their bones, desperately constricting the muscles of their heart. They were thankful to know of love because of the woman, and there were moments in their life when they regretted not being able to express it more, especially in the later years of Lavinia’s life. Theodora had been far too busy with college, away from home, while their mother worked in the several companies that their small family of two owned until life was stolen back from her. They only realized the work their mother did every single day of her life for the two of them when it was too late. What did they know, back then, of love’s austere and lonely offices?

Most of their family’s money came from inheritance, and the wide array of businesses that their family owned – from shipping, to real estate and land development. Their family also owned hospitals, and only recently, a pharmaceutical company, acquired by Theodora themself. In the labs of this company, is where sangue was born, through Theodora’s own rigorous, hard work and perseverance.

Titania met Oberon at Measure by Measure, when they were initiated into the Capulet ranks. They were invited in, their creation paving the way for them to achieve emissary status right off the bat, but they still had to be initiated, else they would never have the respect of those they will work with. They were proud of their powerful mind, but they could not say the same of their nonexistent skill in fighting. They had to learn, and they had to learn fast. They sought Oberon, begged him to instruct them, and from then, the spark had turned into a flame that neither of them could ever put out.

JOURNAL WRITINGS.

“I have always been fascinated by the human mind, and often I have marveled at its capacity to contain the entire universe inside of it.”

“Perhaps the soul for the poet, and the neuron is for the scientist. And yet for me, it is one and the same.”

“I am a creator and spectator. I create for the consumption of others, and marvel at the spectacle I have catalyzed.”

#accepted #accepted: titania

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. you know whats also bad about the red eyes? not only do they look awful on persephone's pink color, they're not even a unique feature? like we've seen hades' eyes go red, we've seen eros' eyes go red, and ares' eyes are ALWAYS red, so even this idea its her "unique queenly trait" doesnt even hold up?? because we've seen it on other characters before?like at least the blue glowing eyes looked unique and even gave her a possessed, otherworldly look, something with the red eyes just dont have.

2. The faces in the latest ep (not fastpass).... Ew

3. I saw someone praise lore olympus art, specifically the ones where Apollo is playing his lyre and Daphne is covering her ears while her hair is split in two (yuck! Bad decision looks awful) so we can see Apollo, the one where she transforms into her hibernation state (weird perspective, chin and neck, I think, also what the hell was that supposed to be?) and the last one before cutting to Thanatos (which, I admit looks a little better that the other but I still got distracted Apollo's arm among other things).

Now, Rachel is a professional artist like 15-25 years older than me (I dunno her age) drawing one of the most liked webtoons.

I feel like I'm nitpicking or being too harsh or crazy because I think it is a little terrible and this person thinks it's amazing and I know art is subjective and all but like the difference of opinion is jarring. I am by no means a professional and my art leaves a lot to be desired and I guess I don't have incredibly high standards (or do I? I'm second guessing). Is it really that good?

Because I know that Smythe commits more than a few anatomy atrocities. I wanted to redraw a few panels two years ago and I noticed a few things that Don't Work Like That.

4. ok but that other anon is right. we shouldnt have to go off old tumblr asks or random tweets to understand what's going on and who the characters are. rachel doesnt realize you have to actually write whats going on, not putting the readers on a scavenger hunt trying to figure out what they're even reading.

5. im honestly surprised LO hasnt ruined more mother figures at this point. maybe maia will be next and depicted as neglectful and hermes is only the way he is because hes acting out to be noticed by her, maybe dione will slut shame aphrodite, who knows, the possibilities are endless when its about ruining every mother figure to prop persephone and hera up and to avoid giving the characters actual personalities that isnt dependent on mommy/daddy issues.

6. I hate the clothing choice for Daphne in run for your life. It felt like she was drawn in a sexualized manner when she shouldn’t have been because she was running away from a r*pist. Like she almost had a nip slip, we almost got her ass, it was like Rachel was trying to fit her butt and chest in a lot of the frames like some video game with the token woman character. Like if a different dress was choosen or how she made Daphne tie the dress, I just feel like Rachel can’t draw outside of pinup sexy that well. Like sexy is fine for sexy scenes but running away from a r*pist is not sexy. (I probably sounded really lame, but the way Rachel presents the story in a feminist way but can only draw one way in not even the same style is annoying)

7. Things I think would have been better for the story instead of focusing so much on HXP

-Expanding on Minthe’s and Hades beginning of their relationship (he couldn’t of fallen for her since she didn’t laugh at him and when she yelled at him said it’s not your fault but you have the hat I think that would have added to his character more to see him more than a 40 year old who hits on barely legal)

-Leto’s kidnapping of Demeter. Both we/are close with Hera, and probably know or each other or may have been friends. Like I wanna know how Leto kidnapped her but also how are they interacting since they probably know each other and Demeter probably had Hera’s back when Hera ended their friendship.

-Ares return to Aphrodite. We don’t get to see much of her character but we know this is something she’s wanted, but they way it was handled was so flat, We assume Aphrodite told Ares that his gf slept with his father to save their son but we don’t actual read any words between the couple. And then they’re living together. I wanna see how they actually interact and stay together like their better moments. Like how well did he settle in, did they talk about how long he left for or is he mad like come on that’s something interesting but I feel like RS can’t write outside of HXP

-the deal with Echo. Why do people think Echo could possibly be Hera’s gf if she’s her assistant. Yeah they do dirty work together BUT I didn’t get a wiff or sexual tension or anything. Was it that she was there with the doctor? It just seems like Hera is that CEO trope who has the assistant always by her now.

-a little more of Pysche and Aphrodite friendship. Like Pysche says Aphrodite is lonely (and we can assume a part of that is Ares) but also because she “doesn’t have many friends” so why not a solo scene of just the two of them being actual friends. Like what did Aphrodite say when she brought back a purple nymph that was gonna help them with their work.

-Hermes not talking about Persephone. I feel like that 99% of what his character is and then just a little bit of himbo. 

-Maybe Thantos and Minthe started flirting/hooking up. We’re they friends first or flirts first? Was it after Hades and Minthe got into a fight or something else? What did Thantos like about Minthe and what does she like about him? Why did she stay with Hades with Thantos was there (it’s not like she wanted to be queen of the underworld) How did Thantoas and Thetis meet and become friends? Idk if I was seeing two guys and one of them actually liked my friend I might consider leaving Hades for him. But again hades did have the power to control everything in Minthe’s life (job, home, everything) I do like Daphne and Thantos But I feel like the transition could have been better if we knew more, but again RS can only focus on one thing and that’s HXP.

------FP Spoiler/Mention------

8. FP SPOILERS— I’m done. I’m really done. We called it. We FKN called it. They got married behind the readers back, Demeter didn’t respond to the question as she actively avoided it and time was up, Apollo is somehow involved in the trial- THIS WHOLE THING IS A MESS AND IM TIRED OF HOPING THAT IT GETS BETTER. Four FKN years of this??? I’m done with this Webtoon even though I’m FKN stuck in it. I’m so FKN done.

9. Fast Pass spoiler (kinda) OH MY GOD, I JUST REALIZED THE POMEGRANATE PIN IS JUST PASTED ON EVERY FRAME, NOT EVEN RE DRAWN FOR PERSPECTIVE, NO, JUST COPIED AND PASTED, REGARDLESS THE OUTFIT ANGLE AND LIGHTING, IT'S HILARIOUS!!!I mean, I knew the art was decaying, but this just made me laugh out loud of how bad it looked.

10. persephone’s pomegranate pin just looks like a giant fly that landed on her and won’t leave LMAO

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

[ghostydreamgirl]

Sunshine glittered on the river’s surface. A cool breeze washed over the land. She was bathing in the sun, her eyes shut and smile playing on her lips. There was no one around for miles, and that’s the way she liked it. She’d been here for hours, switching between sitting under the tree nearby and laying completely in the sun’s path. She’d draw in her journal or skip rocks on the surface of the water, watching it ripple further and further away. She often thought of simply drifting down the river, letting the current take her where it thought she ought to be.��

“You know, Poseidon would send you straight to the ocean,” Camille sat up, trying to find who was speaking to her. Her heart was racing as she located the figure standing by the river side, his back to her, looking down at the water. He was dressed in a light blue linen shirt, and a pair of brown pants. He had no shoes on and his feet were tan as was the rest of his skin she could see. He had long, curly, blonde hair, and as he turned to face her, she got caught up in his dazzling blue eyes. He chuckled in amusement at the dazed look on her face. She was confused. How had she not noticed this man’s arrival? It was quiet all around her, save the swaying grass and trees. And what was he wearing? 

“You’re Camille, right?” He took a step closer to her, smiling softly at her. How did he know her name? “You’re Hera’s daughter, correct?” Slowly, Camille nodded. “I’m Lucas.” He was standing in front of her now, casting a shadow onto her face so she didn’t have to squint looking up at him. “I’m a friend of Nike’s.” 

“Nike? She never mentioned you to me.” Nike, the goddess of victory, and Camille were good friends and talked often, and in the years Camille had been talking to her, which was a lot, she’d never heard of a Lucas. Camille was raised around gods and goddesses, being the half mortal child of Hera, the goddess of all gods. Hera had raised her in the wilderness, in a small house made of stone and wood. Wanting her to be tough and able to take care of herself among men, Hera had her son, Ares, teach Camille to fight and Artemis showed her how to live off the land.  Camille, now 26, was rarely in the cities or with company. She enjoyed Mother Nature’s rigid, kindness that was complete and full. Everyone had a place here, and it could be brutal, but you had to admire it for what it was: a fully functioning system.

“That would be because she does not enjoy me, too much.” 

“Then how could she be your friend?” Camille stood, putting more distance between herself and the mysterious man. The wind blew her white dress, the sun reflecting off of it. There were intricate flower designs cut into it and Lucas could see her skin through sections of it. Her long locks of dark, brown hair reflected golden brown in the sun. Lucas could only think of how beautiful she looked just then. 

“Did I say friend? I meant acquaintance.” Camille could only think of how she was going to defend herself against this random man if he tried to attack her. There were two bands of fabric tightly wound around her right thigh, with a knife slid in between. Camille came prepared. “Stabbing me won’t harm me, Miss Camille.” Alarmed, Camille put even more space between them. 

“How do you know I have a knife?” She tried to play coy, but it wasn’t working. He knew, somehow, and she couldn’t lie to him about it. 

“Lying won’t help either.” Lucas smiled at her, stepping closer. Camille did not take another step away. “You come from the most beautiful woman, and your skills come from the strongest. I’ve been searching for you, for quite some time, Camille.” The closer he gets, the less Camille wants to move away, as he’s leaning in, closer to her lips. He pauses a few inches from her lips, looks into her eyes and grins again, looking as cocky as can be. “You’ve been waiting for me, haven’t you?” Camille’s lips turn up at the edges in a soft smile and he takes this as an invitation to kiss her. He closes the gap, his eyes fluttering shut, but before his lips can meet her’s, Camille has him turned around, kneeling before her, her arms wrapped around his neck so if he moves, it will only tighten her hold. 

Lucas looks dumbfounded. He is shocked. He thought he could read her energy and understand what her next move was, what she wanted. “I come from the goddess of love, but I will not hesitate to end your life. Do you understand, Lucas?” All he can focus on is the soft, supple feeling of her breasts pressing on his shoulders, and her dress swaying in the breeze, melting against his form. “Do you understand?” She tightens her grip, causing him to cough, and he nods. He didn’t expect her to be this fierce, but now that he knows she is, he wants her even more. 

“Yes, Camille. I understand.” 

“You’re going to leave, and never bother me again. I don’t want to see your face.” Lucas agreed, though he knew it wasn’t true. He’d see her again; he had to. She loosened her grip, stood up and backed away from him quickly. When he stood up and looked at her, she already had her knife in her hand. She wasn’t willing to risk anything. He admired her. “Now go, however you came, wherever you came from, leave.” She watched as he turned, walking back to the river. 

“I will see you again, Camille.” He says, as he steps into the river and suddenly dissipates. 

#5sos #luke #greek 5sos #roman 5sos #mythology 5sos #calum hood #luke hemmings #luke imagine #luke imagines

[the-firebird69]

And Galactus is real and Galactica and people compete over trying to grab them and compete over the cities to compete over the ships below to try and grab the Galactus below there must be a giant one below here and someone told me there was a humongous one and I'm not sure exactly where but I do know what she said about it's disposition that it's sitting with legs out like an l and the other one is too so gigantic one and it's very deep but there's bigger ones and they're at the North Pole the inlet for the throats and their heads are in the Moon and nobody believes what I'm saying the satanists for the most part, but those who do wish to control the situation using hostages and the situation is getting out of control rapidly so I'm sitting here with a dangerous mix of volatile highly explosive leaders and a whole bunch of incendiary underlings because they burn

Zues Hera

We're still this and understood it but now we're starting to see what you're saying a lot of them understand what it is and they know what it is and they've been going after it for years and they put the ships there because they found out about it now we don't have any time to explain this it's almost been sending messages back in time and exposing things and it's treated like it's nothing when that's this job and his name is Corky and it's not getting fair treatment now at all he's ripping out skillets and he's going after the ships and it's going to change and the foreigners are too and in the process of going after the skillets the ships were seen and they are seen you take the skillets out and thereby the photo negative it appears it's the only thing active still so we're doing gangbusters try and help pull out the skillets because it gets them to fight in the city and it draws him in and we have to do that

So hiring like mad and people are being promoted and we're hiring more and more soldiers on and we're all so hiring for these motorcycles and scooters and Harley-Davidson is hiring our version and we're building this electric scooter with the same chassis as the motor scooter and it looks awesome by the way it's a massively awesome looking scooter people love it it's got a rear end that makes it look like a real chopper and you come up to it you'll see it's a scooter and still looks cool somehow like the wind Tommy Allen road but it doesn't sound stupid average it sounds pretty cool like an old style motorcycle tons and tons of people are buying it all over the world and it won't let him have access to it and we're going to try and penetrate here to bring it in we have new basis from the oil fields and a lot of them are out in the Everglades it's not far at all and we're going to take over the shatteredome shortly they're going to start attacking and trying to get at us and we're going to wipe them out and also gravity will happen shortly the movie and that's going to help out but boy this is a great time we're hiring now if you want to work for any of these companies or building them or doing any ancillary projects or jobs of any kind please sign on now we need people of every Walk of Life every occupation for the business and for the war and the business is going great we sold tons of electric bikes the new electric bike company is separate and it has a new concept and the concept is it's geared and actually we changed back the Harley from gear to not geared if they try and change the gears really hard will change it to gears but we want to do that slowly with a smaller company so far we sold the billion bikes first day of the market

Thor Freya

Wow people saying wow it's a lot of bikes some electric bike companies have not sold a billion bikes yet and our company sold a billion and they don't know who it is or what they're doing or whose building them they just know they work and put it out there and a few of them driving around and people ask to ride it and they go buy one and is that way and that's how it works and he says he'd like to be on a team that goes up to like a biker rallies and things like that not necessarily biker bars but motorcycle rallies and motorcycle clubs and ask if they want to ride them and collect the license or two and have them write it will be in a pack of like eight or so I'll send you said this to him it's like dangerous don't you want me to be in danger it's very dangerous compared to what I'm doing it smiles that it's not dangerous at all I said okay whatever you say you guys want to heat up the lithium on this teeny battery and the one so I'll probably go and so you know whatever there's losers and treat you like the losers you are take your money take your stuff here you can live like bums and say you're going to win it's kind of the best thing you could ever do for me he says and we're going to head with this idea I'm going to crush everybody I'm going to take over all of the businesses anyone have a chance it is leaving there making fun of you but now it's ridiculous you're not letting me have any money you're trying to get to me and why you're trying to get it here and have lawsuits out of one you don't want to do that either and make people more irate and you do it every day and try and make it more worried about stupid s*** like I'm helping with the septic boy in my mad I mean it's ridiculous

So you see the effect and what happens we understand that you're stupid but this is kind of getting a little ridiculous you want to live like a popper because you want him to live like a popper now it's about Trump and Dan and they're on either side of him and their pieces of s*** they want to take him to somewhere else like a mad Max and it's about the ships and it might continue we hope not the stone ships that are going to be up there but Mac has more savvy than that we hope and we hope the more active and wash it all out cuz we need some of it sounds like the same ppl

Nope it's us we understand the Bike company stuff is going very well we're using it and it is achieving huge success just saying things they shouldn't all over the place I think it's his company and I can't prove it at all and they're running around like maniacs trying to say it is and their attitude and effort becomes very lackluster and I'm just leaving the bike intact like we need them to

Nuada Arrianna

I understand you're getting away with murder because of our idiotic way with you and we're going to prove to you again by trying to turn it up we don't understand it's going to make it stupider than you don't and you're a fool and you're a jackass you always have been you went up there you fried and I let you fry you lost half your people because you're stupid

You don't understand what you're saying you told us before you told us again it should be a Nate but we don't see it but we're supposed to be special agents or military or something we're saying is we're making mistakes and that tells us and we and we don't get it just like the skillet so it's going to be stupid yeah it's going to be stupid but really Trump and Dan are you worst enemies and taking my shift so long or a long shot the Black ships will go to interstellar so really it's trumpships are Max and Max are going to be off limits cuz Trump and Dad will be gone and they should be gone but there's a ships that can go into stellar and they're the ones making life miserable for everybody and blaming you and went and seated you all and they wanted you all to die so you join in with their cars and cover them so now we're going to go get those assholes and we see it

Bja

[dyde21]

Limits

So this short one shot is a combination of a venting piece, and something that was inspired because @solbabydraws always makes me want to draw Percy Jackson stuff. It feels like sometimes people in the fandom (Not Solbaby! Just other writers I’ve read) and people in general seem to forget that Percy (And pretty much all guys, trust me) also appreciate kind words and can be sensitive. It’s okay to not always be tough folks, and that’s coming from a guy who gets through most of his problems by just toughing it out. We all need to hear kind words sometimes. Sometimes teasing can get to people, even if it’s light hearted. (It’s certainly getting old for me at work sometimes...) Ironically this is also released on MentalHealthAwareness day so there’s that too. Anyway, sorry for the mini rant, enjoy!

XxXxXxXxX

Glaring at his pencil, Percy wondered how mad Annabeth would be if he snapped her mechanical pencil in half. Knowing her however, he figured it wouldn't be worth the scowl and bickering for a few seconds of tension relief.

Setting down the pencil onto his “extra homework” he dropped his head onto the table to avoid the temptation of causing property damage for Annabeth. If he wasn't so utterly in love with Annabeth, there was no way he would be doing extra homework during their summer vacation. Not even the gods could have convinced him of this task.

They were preparing to finish their senior year, then go to college together. However, Annabeth had warned that Percy needed to be on top of the ball to ensure there were no academic problems that could interfere. Of course, Percy had already used up all his strikes, and them some, so it was really down to the line. Annabeth had been helping him, and promised to make it up to him later for studying so hard now.

Of course Annabeth had been the best studying partner. Bringing him snacks occasionally, explaining things in her wonderful confident, yet patient tone. Not to mention the brief study breaks that usually ended out in make-out sessions.

Annabeth had some other tasks to attend to for the day, leaving Percy to study and work on the next section of the workbook on his own. Promising to bring him a treat when she was free later, she had the utmost confidence in her boyfriend that he could finish the work.

Percy had also been pretty confident that he could do it alone. At least until his day had decided to spiral progressively downwards. Raising his head slightly, he let it drop with a soft thud on the table. Repeating the action, he thought back to what had started this hellish day.

Now normally Percy could run with the best when it came to light-hearted teasing. Usually he could only manage a few minutes before some quip was said between his girlfriend and himself. But there was always a point, always a day when it can be too much. A time when for once he just wanted to have some peace and quiet with friends, and not worry about shrugging off light-hearted remarks.

It wasn't quite clear when his day had started going down hill. It could have been the morning when he had attended the mandatory archery lessons. It was a well known fact, and warning, that Percy was prolifically bad with archery. Like, they scheduled Percy with as few Archery classes as they could because Annabeth, Chiron, and Will had all failed to properly teach him. Even Thalia had struggled to help him much, and she literally used a bow for a living.

Usually Percy didn't mind the occasional joke about his skill with a bow. He knew he had strengths elsewhere. Wherever he struggled with a bow, he made up with a sword. At least he liked to think he did.

But that didn't mean Percy wasn't also annoyed that he couldn't be counted on for long range, and that he wasn't worried about being unable to help a friend who needed it with a bow. He had been blessed once on the farm, but he wouldn't count on help from hera again.

So when he found himself on the archery range, on the far end with his bow drawn, the last thing he wanted was attention. He heard the call to aim and fire, and when he pulled the string back he heard a distinct lack of arrows being fired. Looking over, he saw all the younger campers had held up a shield between themselves and him, and were giggling to each other.

Biting his lip slightly, Percy forced a smile to his face as he fired his arrow and let out a short laugh to the other campers. He knew it was just a joke, a little prank played on him by some of the younger campers. Finishing the rest of his quiver, Percy quickly gathered his arrows and had left. He knew he shouldn't let it get to him, he just needed a breather. He had also failed to notice the angry looking blonde that had approached the young campers as he left.

The second event that had gotten to him had been during lunch. He had been eating alone at his table as usual, since his half-brother was currently with his dad, when a a group of Apollo kids had walked by. In jest they had started singing “Mr. Lonely”. Percy just laughed, shooing them off, but when he went back to his meal his shoulders drooped slightly. It was true. He hated eating lunch alone, but it was the camp rules. Sometimes Annabeth broke them, but for the most part he'd just eat his meal quickly. Besides, seeing all the other tables full of half-siblings chatting always made him feel even more isolated. But that was the price of being a kid of the Big 3.

Standing up, he dumped his half-eaten meal and exited the hall, unaware of the storm gray eyes following him, before they shifted to the Apollo kids from before.

The final straw of the day had been in lake. They had set up some lanes for some swimming training, and Percy had been swimming laps for a while. Now it was true the water gave Percy strength, and it kept him strong, but Percy had always loved water. He was practicing swimming without using his powers, figuring it was always a good idea to be prepared in case he had to swim through water out of his control again, like the sea of monsters. Percy realized Annabeth must be rubbing off on him if he was starting to plan ahead.

The lake was supposed to be Percy's domain. It's where he excelled, where he guided others, and where he could go to relax. It was his little safe haven at camp, and others usually knew it.

Walking out of the lake after a long time of swimming laps, he yawned and threw a towel over his shoulder, drying off some of the excess water. While normally he'd just emerge from the lake as dry as he entered, there was something off about finishing swimming bone dry, so he would will himself to get when practicing, just for the sake of feeling “normal” for once.

As he leaned against a tree, drinking water he couldn't help but overhear near by gossip.

“I don't know why he's swimming laps. He can just control the water.”

“He's probably just showing off.”

“I doubt he swam any of those laps. Just bragging about his powers to the new kids.”

Percy opened his mouth to retort, but just closed it as his shoulders drooped. He had worked hard on his swimming. Sure it came naturally, but he put in the same amount of effort, if not more, into learning to swim properly. It was his favorite work out, and he certainly wasn't showing off. It was just when Percy felt the most relaxed. Away from Annabeth at least.

Finding his desire to swim extinguished, he sulked away from the lake to go shower and change. A blonde holding a pair of Popsicle stormed over to the giggling campers who watched Percy leave, her stormy gray eyes hiding a fury within them.

So, finding the day increasingly frustrating, Percy had resulted to getting an early start on the extra homework. He had planned on starting it later that night, closer to when Annabeth would be free but now it seemed like the only place he could hope for peace.

A short while later and Percy found himself at his current situation, gently thumping his head on the table as he just wanted the day to be over and to hug Annabeth until he forgot his frustrations. Stopping the thudding, he sighed and raised his head. Annabeth was counting on him to get through his homework. He refused to let her down.

Digging back into his homework, he put all the focus his ADD mind could manage into it. About an hour later, he found himself half way through the worksheet. Closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, he took a deep breath. He could do thi-

“Almost there.”

He jumped at the sudden voice, his hand flying to his pocket and reaching for riptide.

Opening his eyes, he saw him staring at a pair of gray eyes that were similar to his favorite pair of gray eyes, not quite them.

“James... right?” Percy said after a moment, trying to remember the name of the camper. It was one of the kids in the Athena cabin. One of the ones that had joined while he was on one of his quests so he had missed their introduction.

“Yeah.” The boy answered dismissively, grabbing Percy's sheet and studying it with a similar look that Annabeth often wore. But it looked... wrong somehow.

“Numbers 2, 3, and 5 are wrong.” He said simply, dropping the page back on the table. “3 isn't close. I'd start over.” He offered.

Percy's jaw clenched. The kid was arrogant, but probably right. Also, Percy had a sense that the kid wasn't trying to be a dick, but just lacked tact. He was also younger than him, so Percy tried to let it go.

“I was wondering what kind of guy Annabeth was dating. Everyone talked about you, and she rejects any guy who had talked to her, but she's with you.” He mumbled, as if he was talking over a difficult problem by himself.

Percy shook his head. “I'm very lucky.” He muttered. It was true, at times he found it amazing that he ended up dating his best friend. Of course they had been through enough for him to realize the feeling was mutual, but it didn't stop the creeping doubts that were always on the edge of his mind.

James just let out a noncommittal hum, still analyzing Percy.

Trying to ignore him, Percy went back to the second question trying to piece together where he went wrong.

“I guess it's a good thing you’re cool, huh? You're a little dumber than I expected Annabeth's boyfriend to be though. I guess opposites attract.” He said in a witty tone.

Percy froze, his head drooping. Right. He was the dumb one. That's why he had to study during summer camp. Doubt crept into his mind, maybe Annabeth was also annoyed with his struggle to understand this material? May-

“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?” Annabeth's voice cut through the quiet of the study area like a knife.

Annabeth stormed through the study room, her stormy gray eyes hiding a storm that could put zeus to shame. Several heads snapped up at the sudden outburst, but seeing Annabeth they were all left speechless. Annabeth was the last person to be too loud in a study hall. Well, aside from if she was with Percy and they were in an uncontrollable giggle fit.

That, and the fact that Annabeth looked furious.

Percy looked at Annabeth, surprised and a little intimidated. James meanwhile still looked unimpressed.

“What?” He asked, sitting up properly, raising an eyebrow at his older half-sister.

“What in hades name did you just say about my boyfriend?” She repeated, crossing her arms, subconsciously standing between Percy and James.

James laughed slightly. “Chill sis. I just said he's dumber than I expected. I mean come on, it's not like he's the smartest guy at camp. But I get it, he's cute and good with a sword. Everyone has different tastes.”

Percy saw Annabeth's hand twitch and he reached out and grabbed it, as they both instinctively intertwined their fingers. Secretly Percy was just hoping to avoid letting Annabeth deck her brother, which she looked like she was one remark away from it.

Annabeth glanced down at their intertwined fingers, smiling softly before she looked Percy in the eyes. Instantly she could see right through the smile he was forcing on. She could see how tired and frustrated he was, and a molten rod of anger pierced her chest. She turned back to James.

“Don't you dare say anything like that again. You don't know the first thing about Percy. Percy is far smarter than you think. He lead the camp in a war. He's saved my life more times than I count, this entire camp wouldn't be here if he was dumb. If you think knowing textbook knowledge, or classical battle strategy is the only way to be smart than maybe you should be studying instead.”

James flushed red. “You're just saying that just because you two are dating.” He countered.

Percy squeezed her hand gently. “Annabeth... it's... it's not worth it.”

Annabeth turned to stare at him, reading into the subtext of his statement. “Yes, you are worth it.” She affirmed, turning back to James. “If you really think I'm just saying that because he's my boyfriend, than you don't know me either. Seaweed brain's will always be full of kelp to me, but it is still far better than yours ever will be.”

With that, she gathered up Percy's things and grabbed his hand, leading him out of the study hall and back towards his cabin.

Percy just let himself be towed along, words failing for him once.

Annabeth still seemed furious as she stormed across the grounds, campers clearing out of their way.

Pushing open Percy's door, she practicing shoved him on the bed as dropped his bag on the floor before climbing onto his lap. Lacing her hands behind his neck, she stared him directly in the eye.

“Hi.” She muttered after a moment, a blush creeping up to her cheeks now that the adrenaline and frustration was leaving her body.

“Hi.” Percy said, utterly confused but not exactly complaining.

“You know I think you're smart right? Like... before we started dating, I did.”

Percy rested his hands on her hips, a smile creeping on his face. “I... I think I do.”

Annabeth just leaned forward and kissed him.

After kissing for a few moments she pulled back, resting her forehead against his. “I'm serious. You're smart. And wonderful. And yes, you're hot too.” She said with a slight smirk.

Percy just stared at her, feeling a warmth building in his chest. Annoyingly, he could feel tears threatening the corners of his eyes. How could she always see through him? Know exactly what he needed to hear?

Annabeth just gave him a gentle smile, climbing off his lap and shifting further down the bed. Pulling on Percy, she got him to lay down with his head resting her lap. She began to gently play with his hair. She could practically feel the tension melt off his body in waves. She saw his muscles slowly relax as she continued playing with the hair.

Percy closed his eyes, listening to her words and letting them sink in as she gently spoke.

“By the way, I heard those campers earlier too. I know how hard you've been working on your archery, and you really have improved. Maybe we can work on it more, but you've gotten a lot better!”

She continued. “I'm sorry we can't sit together at camp more. Trust me, I do miss sitting next to you as well. It's just camp rules. I'll try to find more time to grab a snack with you though.” She promised gently, already tweaking her schedule in her mind. Truth be told, Annabeth had really been missing hanging out with Percy as much recently as well. They were always either studying or training, they never had as much time to just relax near each other.

Her fist clenched in his hair, before she felt him flinch and she quickly muttered an apology as she leaned down and kissed his head before smoothing out the hair.

“Don't you dare listen to those kids at the lake either. I know how hard you've been practicing swimming. I pay attention seaweed brain. Your butterfly stroke has been getting much better, and your diving is also much cleaner.” She praised honestly. It wasn't too often she would see her boyfriend working hard on something aside from training at camp, or anything when it came to his mom, but she respected the effort he put into his swimming. The thought of those kids ignorantly talking bad about him made her blood boil.

“Yes, I think you're hot seaweed brain, but I promise you I'm not just saying this cause we're dating. I'm saying this because you the smart, hard working, wonderful guy I fell in love with.” She finished, unable to fight the blush that filled her cheeks. She wasn't always the most openly affectionate person, but whenever she started praising Percy, she usually found it hard to stop.

Percy was just quiet for a moment, before he hugged her tightly around the waist. “Thank you Annabeth. I... I think I needed to hear that.” He confessed meekly.

Annabeth just kissed the top of his head again. “We all do sometimes, Percy. It's okay. I'll always be here for you when you do.”

Percy just smirked and crawled up the bed, sharing a proper kiss with her. A little while later after some more kissing and quiet cuddling, Annabeth had decided they should finish the homework he had started earlier. She hated interrupting his studying, but the campers had made her furious today, and her boyfriend's mental state was the more pressing issue in her mind. But now that those issues were resolved it was back to studying.

Looking over his answers, she paused. Thinking about over when Percy had said her half-brother had pointed out, she laughed.

“By the way, you actually got 3 right.” She gave him a quick celebratory kiss before she settled in next to him, already starting to explain the rest of what was tripping him up.

Percy just did his best to listen to her explanation, a smile plastered on his face. At times he could feel tired, but Annabeth always managed to fix his mood. He knew as long as she was at his side, he could take on the world. Shaking his head, he realized he was too far gone. He didn't have to be that smart to realize how in love with this girl he was.

#pjo #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #I feel like people forget #Percy hates being called dumb #and annabeth is territorial of her friends #according to chiron #She literally punched a bully after one day of seeing him pick on percy #fanfic #venting #fluff? #Kinda?

[explodo-dome]

@headquarters Earlier That Day.

Dual crimson hues, flush red as a ruby drop of blood, open then to stare intently at her back. To say he's curious about whatever it is she's about to say, would be an understatement. It wasn't often the woman interrupted his meditation for anything, but it seems different somehow. Important?

“ Master? ” he answers, he shifts around in that restless way he's prone to. Really it's her fault for interrupting the one chance to have him sit still — when his chi is a subtle stream rather than some raging river flowing through rocks rather than around. When he's soft to the flow of this world that he not be some angry cat swinging claws at everything he sees, she's effectively cut all that off.

“ How do you feel about your first big operation? ” She doesn't bother to turn, doesn't acknowledge him any more than she has. “ Ground Zero has gained traction. Despite taking your boot to every villain within a thirty-mile radius, they wonder if you're establishing your territory as the ‘ biggest fish ’. A most curious position to be allowed to exploit in all honesty. ”

One sudden movement pushes her hand out of the edge of her sleeve, gleam of low light off of a metal spoon, obscured by her body once more. “ If they think you want to be a kingpin, might you fill such a role for them, Zero? ”

Teeth gnashed unpleasantly, loud enough it's a wonder he hasn't broken every tooth into stubs, pieces sprinkling on his tongue like ivory sawdust coating his jaws. “ and this will accomplish — what? ” unable to just blindly go along with anything, even for her, he questions her reasoning.

The stately woman hummed serenely, interrupting anything she may have possibly said lips pressed to the edge of her cup, a sip drawn from porcelain tea set. “ Information, of course. ” she doesn't patronize him for asking, nor does she mock his tendency to inquire a subject into the ground given half the drive to. “ information makes this world turn at all ends. It's power, plain and simple. Often heavily guarded by selfish tongues, unless loosed by force or by acquisition. Do you agree, young zero? ” Again her footsteps are near-silent to track once she's out of sight, walked somewhere behind him, likely to her own place of meditation.

Bakugou knew meditation for him was now a thought of the past, and he unfurled into a seiza to contemplate her words — his own position on them. Long fingers dig hard enough to turn knuckles red, and then white, with how hard he grabs at his pockets. Carmine gaze flashes swift over his shoulder, turned far enough to glimpse her figure in the low light of the room, and he answered, “ Whatever I have to do...it will be done. If you believe this is the best course of action, who am I to argue? ”

“ You are you to argue. Thoughts, feelings, ideologies of your own — a person. At the end of this existence, all we have is ourselves. You know that. You have experienced that. Do not betray that which is the truest you for anyone, my apprentice. ” she began, hues dark as the whole of Erebus with far more depth to the darkness, “ Again, I ask you, and now, you tell me your truth. Bakugou Katsuki, what are your thoughts on the matter? ”

“ I believe — ” lips press into a tight, thin line, pondering his own stance deeply. It was foolish to think that Zhao would ever accept such an empty, unthought out answer to her questions. When has she ever just accepted anything? She hasn't. NOT EVER. She lights a fire in her people from her own combustion into a thousand strands of ash and is reborn every second in the conflagration left by her convictions and those that she comes to trust with her will. “ I know I could do this. Whatever must be done to halt this wheel we go-'round on. Pushing and pulling good and evil as if they're ever so black and white. I'm not quite sure what I can do as Ground Zero in this kingpin position. It would seem as though any information gained would either be falsified or would jeopardize any position I find based on them knowing I could be using it to put fist to their throat… what would be your solution? ”

“ If you play your part right, greedy, it wouldn't matter. Fame, recognition, money — all the siren call you'll need for villains to gamble away their freedom with Hades for just a taste of the underworld's riches. Ever how cursed they would be… ” Zhao's hand on his shoulder is as heavy as the world laid bare on Atlas's shoulders, “ Can you endure your duty, Hades? Or will stygian shoulders fall to the weight of the evil held down in the bowels of your domain? You must decide that now. ”

“ I— Hm. ” he doesn't allow himself to finish his sentence. There are a million ways he could mean to bravado his way into a solid yes, ignore any secondary drain on his psyche, and endure stalwart as always, but...as his master had just reprimanded for, he does not go blindly into an answer he thinks she wants to hear — that he thinks he would want to hear himself say that ever truly mean. He doesn't know for sure what this will unfurl for him, against him, nor does he think this should be done so easily that a simple yes be answered. “ Do or do not, am I right? There is no try. I will do what is expected of me regardless of inane wondering, second-guessing. If only, I were Hades. I could endure the ages as I have in silence — in the darkness like a shadow cast long under the earth. Forgotten to time, powered by all this will of mine. Let Zeus have his starlight destiny, bright like beacons across cosmogony, fickle nature set to cave if ever he could have to stay — endure this trial of Hades evermore. He wanted golden sunlight and adoration as did I, but his nature did not coincide with mine. For all his imperial might, endowed heavy with gifted kingship for all the gods to find succor, he could not live my life. No, he could not — of that? I am sure. ”

“ You're practically waxing to me poetry like Aristotle and his three. That mind of yours can do more than cobble together clever responses to mock one with. ”

Her voice echoes across his consciousness like a blaze does the tops of trees to feed. She sounds so very pleased, and for once, he is swelled with pride as well as purpose. He is full to bursting with golden icor that he be the one entrusted with her divine call to action. Her will is like that of Juno flourishing the youth of Hera, her subtle manipulations far more intelligent than those gods of her husband's ill seed perceive, as her shawl of goatskin, mother of war and union and vigor blessing him with a soldier's March. He could endure as Mars marched his republic to conquest. He would endure as Hades on a cold throne of bedlam and iron. Their tune of duty is the beat pounding his heart hard — yet tender like the fluttering heart of his youth.

“ But I knew such things. I chose you for a reason, and I never go back on my most important choices once made. I make my bed and I lie in it, consequence and all to douse my gains in. I love when I am right, dear Bakugou. Prove to me that I make no mistakes in choosing you, and you, in me. ”

“ Shì de, shīfu. ” and for once, he's respectful, relatively quiet coming to standing straight as a vertical line. Bending at the waist, one hand straight and the other curled into a fist pressed tight to the other, he bowed. “ May I— ”

“ As always, you are free to do as you may. This newfound respect need not change you so abruptly in my presence, hm? ” her eyes reflect a small bit of amusement to him, a rare quirk of her lip into a teasing smile. “ go, go, it will be a while yet that we impart our plans into fruition. ”

@headquarters One Week Later.

“ Lemme get this straight... ” Sion is, as she always seems to be, stuck to Bakugou's side like a bad pedicure he just couldn't quite seem to get rid of. Pale ‘ Peach ’ strands, as she called it — the newest color of the week, draped over the back of her chair like a gaudy throw blanket. As always her legs are kicked up on the nearest surface, refusing to observe a semblance of body language that suggested she took the situation quite as serious as everyone else in the room. Violet shine of her hues glasses over, thoughts no doubt geared toward some fantasy that makes her happy in its absurdity and flashover toward Bakugou. The look has him narrowing his own eyes suspiciously, waiting for whatever absurdity she's thinking to find its way from her idiot mouth. “ I get ta be Captain Zero's side piece? His right-hand lady? ” oh god, he doesn't like the dreamy quality her face shapes into, biting at her lip with a barely concealed moan. “ I always wanted to be tha wife of a don. ”

Sion smoothes over some invisible collar to a coat she isn't wearing, shoulders raising to her ears, her smile some sort of content curve. Back of her hand trails over the side of her neck, delicate enough even he can see it's no more than a whispering touch.

“ Don't you even dare think too far into it, ” Bakugou hissed, lip drawing far back over his teeth, baring them aggressively at the female, “ I'll kill you. ” cracks his knuckles, threatening explosions trailing the length of his fingers.

“ Won't yeh, Captain? How lovely… ” the moan was unnecessary and unwanted by most in the room. There were many that thought Sion a beautiful woman, and boy, she really did wear those leather pants, but it was like taking a gamble on whether she'd kiss you or kick you square in the dick every time you got close to her. Dating or otherwise.

“ While I do not doubt these two could handle themselves in this situation, Mistress, I do wonder if coming further into infamy would embolden our outfit, or hinder it. ” his words serve to light the room up with disjointed conversation and muttering. “ Given that we have far more notoriety than before with Zero able to now incorporate his explosions into his fighting style— ”

“ Situationally. ” Bakugou interjects.

Mako doesn't miss a beat. “ — and it being a main focus for the media to sell headlines on, is it wise to fully come into the light in this angle? ”

“ If we must be brought from the shadows, we must control how much is visible and what part is uncovered. This way... ” the woman pushed a single button on the centermost console. The hologram unfolds verticle; and then, spreads horizontally into visual points of their own base, their people, and finally, the many levels and floors available to them. “ ...we may utilize our vast organization to not only gather information but to intimidate. If we are the final boss, we claim the bull's attention away from the people, do we not? We gain information and move to take these things down — both in the shadows and outside of it. ”

Zhao seemingly pauses for a moment in thought, hues glancing over Bakugou as she speaks, and, finally, her gaze lands on her own flesh and blood. The conversation between them is a silent affair fleshed out through eye contact and vague facial movements. It's a common enough occurrence everyone takes the time to turn their attention to something else; anything else really. Bakugou turns his carmine flush hues to the idiot across from him. Sion soaks up his attention like a fish does water, casting him small kisses and trying her hardest to be cute. Her subtle adjustment over her bosom in tight lace corset has every male eye turn down fast enough that he hears the click associated with a neck popping. How fast they turn away and pretend they hadn't even looked at all is far funnier to watch. Bakugou's lip curls up around his teeth, baring them at her like a particularly perturbed dog. He's saved from answering by Zhao's voice.

“ Ground Zero, your humble team will spearhead this exposure and you'll do it in conjunction with my daughter and XO-N. The five pillars of this false criminal syndicate must be cohesive, and you must continuously adapt and learn to survive this sort of thing to the end. I understand this is a lot and any who join this will be asked to give 110% to the cause. This will be brutal. ”

Sion looks like the cat that's caught the canary. supporting her weight on the broad table elbow first, settling her boobs for all to see onto the cross over her arms, she leaned her head innocently to one side. “ 's all fine and dandy, Miss Zhao, but how is this gonna start off? Honestly, we made plenty'ah statements in tha area, so how we switch gears from knockin’ heads to tha opposite? ” the spread of her lips is all the more unpleasant, crooked and curled at the edges with mischief. " 'specially with a leader like explodo-dome here, am I right? "

Bakugou doesn't give her comment the light of fucking day, not even a single acknowledgment, but she's still too amused from earlier to be bothered by the deflect. “ One well-timed, well-placed hostile takeover of an already established outfit, I believe. ” Bakugou interjected, again. The male stood to take his place to the right of his master, bent over the table to reprogram the hologram briefly. Instead of their organization, it shows a three-dimensional model of the whole of the world. The model zooms into China with the point of his finger, exploding into an area of 3D models of the city he gestures to. “ Here in Beijing, we've uncovered seven different gangs working under three families. We've busted two of the Wáng Family's into oblivion and that leaves a power vacuum the other two families are trying to capitalize on. Why don't we just take it? And if the other two want to get into it, we do have quite a bit on them to start with... ”

The movement of his master out the corner of his eyes is all it takes to draw his eye back to her. Zhao turns her serene hues of golden quality to him and holds his gaze almost immediately. “ This is your operation to spearhead. You do as you feel you must, first and foremost. We all must respect that. ” Gaze shifts to Mako, now, asking without so much as a word.

“ It makes sense to me, and, well, I don't know... seeing that it's Bakugou it'll probably work out in some way, right? ” Mako scoffs, smacking the table in front of Bakugou next to him, “ he's like a dog with a fucking bone. it'll work or we'll be on double time trying to make it work. "

“ Facts. Waterhead tells no lies. ” Sion outright laughs in his face.

“ So when this inevitably goes belly up — ” and Bakugan turns full face to look Sion in her eyes, “ — which it will given this fucks track record, you won't be pressed about me being on both your fucking asses, huh? I'm so glad we've come to an understanding of your captain's work ethic. ” Bakugou doesn't hesitate to exaggerate an ecstasy ridden expression just to imitate the idiot he's talking to. “ Please, continue to take of me, Sion. ”

Sion gapes much like the fish she tends to call Mako. “ I hate you... ” it's uttered awful quietly given her boisterous nature, “ but yer right, 'can do better. ”

“ if Sion can step up, I think we all should. ” surprisingly, he doesn't patronize the girl. as much as they come at each other's throats, it means something for someone like her to even fix her lips to say something like this, and they respect her for it. 

but it doesn't mean Bakugou will ever truly change. “ just try to keep up, will you? always staring at my ass, you must love the view. ”

#「 💥 」drabble #「 💥 」kingpin-bakugou #「 💥 」kingpin #「 💥 」bakugou katsuki #「 💥 」ground zero #❮ 💥 ❯ ━━ ❝ 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 ! #bakugou katsuki #ground zero