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Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan
"A half blood of the eldest Gods, shall turn sixteen against all odds, and see the world in endless sleep, the hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap, a single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze
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the song of achilles by madeline miller
In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.
♆ percy jackson ♆
i said, “cherry coke.”
the glass filled with sparkling caramel liquid.
then i had an idea. “blue cherry coke.”
i took a cautious sip. perfect.
so i know that i’ve been mia for the past few months and it has a lot to do with some personal issues that i had to deal with but i’m back and to celebrate, i couldn’t decide if i wanted to do name aesthetics or blog rates or aesthetic rates so i decided to do all of them! i miss you guys a lot so this also serves as a reminder that you can always come and talk to me and tell me all about the things that have been happening to you because i miss talking to you guys and i hope you all are well ♥ ♥ ♥
RULES
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our faults are gasoline, allowing simple spark to burst into flames. burn short, burn bright. i hitch a ride with the sun, my restless spirit soothed in its destruction as we dip below the horizon in the west, and he welcomes us home, his sons and daughters. mortals d i e , that’s what makes us precious as the poets say. he mourns us all, our mistakes his fault. his sons and daughters, related in death.
IAPETUS, titan of the west and mortality. | for @mythologicalnet theme: death deities
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that boy has locked sunlight in his hair and a summer breeze surrounding him. he's gold. all gold, more precious than the real thing. they tell me boys don’t need saving, that i can’t protect him, not from this but, dear god, i would travel so far to bless his smile and banish what makes his eyes dim; to save him from whatever makes the soft go hard and stale. he doesn't deserve the bite of reality, to know people see his kind eyes as chinks in armor, but we all must learn. the world is more red than rosy. he tells me he can save himself. i hope he does.
// distress //
all your gods are teenage girls: ARTEMIS, Greek goddess of the wild
She’s a mystery, that one. Rumours fill the silence where she prefers not to speak. Did those bruises on her arms result from another gang fight or are they just badges of honour won on the field hockey team? They make sure to keep their whispers short when she walks by with her endless posse of female friends. Tiny though she may be, anyone can see the fierceness in her eyes - not Ares’ anger or Athena’s frustration - but the kind of gleam that comes from surviving the worst of humanity, that says she could open her mouth and you’d find fangs. And after all that silence, if she howls on the field, in the streets, at the moon, isn’t it deserved? Don’t we owe her?
Tell me the blood of gods spilled, and thus were born my ancestors. Tell me I carry war and siren songs in my ribs. Tell me you see empires in my eyes. Tell me I'm pure tell me i could never be infernal could never be hellborne could never carry crackling cackling curses— Tell me no lies.
the search.
