I’ve noticed this revisionist Greek myth is common wherein Persephone loves Hades and eats the pomegranate seeds in order to evade her overbearing mother, and that’s all well and good. You know, sometimes I’m in the mood for it and sometimes I’m not. But hear this: as long as we’re doing this, why is no one wondering whether Aphrodite might really love Hephaestus? 

Think about it. All the gods in their immortal splendor are lining up to marry her, doing everything in their power to impress her, the goddess of love and beauty, and she choses…that guy. A god in technical terms only, a social reject who’s ugly and malformed and um, no fun. Always slaving away in his workshop when everyone else is quaffing nectar and having their eternal beach party up on Mount Olympus. They can’t believe she’d give up all of them for that. 

So, because the gods do not take rejection well (looking at you Apollo), eventually they start to say to each other, well, we all know Zeus made her do it anyway. He’s gotta feel guilty for throwing Hephaestus off Mount Olympus that one time. And it quickly becomes that poor girl, stuck in that workshop full of sweat and dirt and cyclopses when she could have had one of us. Because of course they’ve got love all figured out; it’s entirely technical and dependent on who’s the most charming and good-looking and not at all variable and strange and notoriously unpredictable, right?

Meanwhile Ares, only the most arrogant and brainless of the crew, can’t take a hint and is still showing up wherever Aphrodite goes trying to hit on her, so eventually she and Hephaestus decide to rig up an elaborate mechanical trap for him, using her as bait. When all the gods have laughed at him for getting caught he huffily attempts to regain his dignity by telling them, whatever, guys, you want to know the truth, I was meeting her for an assignation. And they all kind of know he’s full of it but they just accept it as the unvarnished truth from thereon in, because they’d love to believe she’d cheat on Hephaestus with Ares. They’d love it. Come on, Aphrodite, get off your high horse and admit you’re just as shallow as the rest of us. 

So they talk, but Aphrodite doesn’t really care about their collective jealousy because she dotes on her misshapen genius of a husband with his sooty hands and his sweaty brow who always takes her seriously and is always so hard at work inventing astonishing new things to make her happy, and she loves the volcano they live in with its internal pressures so conducive to the formation of precious stones and its passages lit with glowing lava that so gorgeously offsets her cheekbones, and all the cyclopses worship her because even with one eye apiece they’ve still got more depth perception than most men do where she’s concerned. True it is that as a couple the two develop a reputation for not getting out much, because all those Olympian parties bore them to death and they’d rather spend time with each other (poor Aphrodite, she’s such a vivacious young thing and her husband is so grasping and insecure that he won’t let her go out and have fun), but they do all right. 

Hera: We should marry Aphrodite off. She’s too irresistible, she’s going to cause problems.

Zeus: I thought so too. Which is why I gave her to Hephaestus.

Hera: … You think marrying her off to one of the ugliest gods going will keep Aphrodite from shagging everybody? Why?

Zeus: … because then she’ll be married?!?!




Hera: You’re married.

The old gods are not dead

I hear Athenas war cry in the shouts of protests,

fighting a war now closer to home,

I see her in the young women with picket signs

clenched tightly in their fists

Hera curses the names of the abusers

The ones who break families and marriages

Her voice heard in the wedding bells of young lovers

Poseidon now resides in a beach home

Going out every night to pick of trash left by the day

Shooting daggers at the drunk men letting their bottles be swept away

Demeter can be heard cursing the politicians refusing to believe in global warming

Names of scientists and studies on the tip of her tongue

She is found teaching young children how to grow their food at the community garden

Ares is found on the front lines of a different war, not fighting but protecting the innocent

Guiding classrooms of children away from gunfire,

His shield protecting the terrified

Apollo can be found at opens mics

Reciting his latest works

Or walking down the street in docs on his feet and a guitar on his back

He knows he’s the coolest

Artemis is seen on the streets

Her bow and arrow have long left her

Carrying nothing more than a knife and mace

She hunts a different kind of monster now

Hephaestus resides in a workshop at all hours of the night

Creating custom pieces for the right price and a warm smile

The hammer making him feel invincible

Aphrodite’s song is heard in the breathy kisses of teenagers

Shes found walking down the street, lips a blood red

Punching the men who dare disrespect her  

Hermes is seen with a smirk as he walks long well-traveled roads

Delivering the messages of those needing to be heard

Traveling, telling stories, and wearing out another pair of shoes

Dionysus’s voice heard only over the pounding bass in the bar

Keeping watch over young girls drinks

Dancing, partying and living as he throws another one back

Hades is seen weeping over the graves of those taken much to soon

Looking to his wife for comfort

He’s long lost his faith in humanity

Persephone found in the gardens beside her mother in the spring

Brushing off girl’s dirty knees and putting flower crowns on their heads

She can be seen holding onto hades as he mourns the loss of life

Hecate will be found running metaphysical shops

Bringing hope to powerful women wanting more

Selling potions, nobody thinks will work

And collecting graveyard dirt for a new spell

Zeus is watching over everyone

Watches Athena cry

Hera curse the men, he being one of them

Poseidon’s glares

Demeter’s harsh words

Ares raising his shield

Apollos singing

Artemis as she tracks a new beast

Watches Hephaestus work

Sees Aphrodite punch

Hears Hermes words

Sees hades weep

And Persephone plant and comfort her partner

And grins as Hecate keeps magic alive

The old gods are not dead

They are alive

And they are watching

- Sayali C.

Modern Greek Mythology

 Hestia comforts the children of broken homes, she appears to them as a school councilor that always has cookies. They cry in her arms, and she lets them stay with her for as long as she can. She stopped calling home, stopped making strongly worded comments to the parents. All there is left are broken homes and suffering children.

 Hera sits next to her sister, holds her hand and thinks about the broken marriages that lead to broken homes. She listens to the couples yelling at each other while she walks on the streets. She holds the crying women, she listens to the hopeless men. All of the power that a goddess of marriage possesses cannot help the people who were betrayed by their closest ones.

 After a long day, Demeter sits on the ground in her garden, holds a cup of tea in hands that have dirt all over them. She wishes that more people would remember what is under all of the concrete. She feels the dying of her world, and curses those who do not care for it.

Keep reading

The old gods are dead

Zeus sits at the bar, he’ll buy a thousand and one drinks and the girls who he smiles at will raise their eyebrows and think of the pepper spray tucked into their sleeves.

Hera waits at home. She knows the numbers of all the girls and she has their facebooks open on the computer. Her hands hover over the keyboard., She wants to tell them that men will always lie. She wants to take her own advice. She never will.

Apollo and Artemis travel the world. They are chasing the sun. Chasing the moon. They will never catch up. Their hand are curled around each others hip bones. Never in public though. They look too similar for that now. Society has learned judgement and so they keep their caresses safe in the shadows.

Poseidon wanders the shore. He wears a plastic poncho and carries a bag of trash. His tears mix with the salt water. No one can tell the difference. A girl with hair that moves like serpents trails after him, retribution in her eyes.

Hades lies in bed, his wife curled around him. He smiles because people will always believe in death and finally, finally he has beaten his brothers at something.

Athena paces through college campuses, handing out pamphlets on architecture. She scoffs at professors who are simply going through the motions. She carries signs in her hands as she marches through the streets with the students, screaming about the newest problem. She laughs wild, these children, these fearless children are her people.

Hestia wants her family to come home. She waits in the doorway, arms outstretched and a smile like forgiveness waiting to embrace the siblings whom she knows will never return.

Demeter counts down the days until her daughter returns. She smiles when children cheer over the snow days she gives them. There was a time when she had a child like that.

Persephone kisses her husband and grins when people tremble. She is vengeful and wears flowers in her hair and she will make damn sure that the world will never forget her name.

Ares walks through the Middle East, picking his way around the ruins of an elementary school. He stopped understanding war a long time ago. This was not brave, this was not heroic. This was senseless.

Aphrodite narrows her eyes at boys in cars who yell obscene things. She’s long since stopped romanticizing love. She is gaunt and over worked but sometimes she sees a teenage girl handing her baby over to an older couple who had tried for years and she feels young again. Sometimes, she sees Ares from across the room as soldiers embrace their loved ones and they smile at each other. 

 Hephaestus limps through his shop, his hands are worn down, his back is still twisted but people don’t seem to notice anymore. He makes their furniture, their toys and trinkets and they thank him, they pay him.

 Hermes runs through the streets of New York, Tokyo, London. He is young in this time, young and beautiful and slipping between business men, his hands finding their way into their pockets. He never stops laughing. 

 Dionysus mixes Zeus his drinks. He watches his family grin and cry and get sick in the back room of the bar. He holds back their hair and hands them another drink before they even ask. He’s been here a long time. He’s seen them drunk more often then he’s seen them sober. He is watching them flicker out and fade. 

 The gods are dying. The gods are dead. The gods are us.


anonymous asked:

*shyly whispers* do u think u could do another Greek Mythology story~

“Your tapestries are so fine,” the merchant says in wonder, “that you must be blessed by the goddess Athena.”

Arachne tosses her head, braided hair falling over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall, “What’s Athena got to do with it? My hands wove these, not hers.”

The merchant blanches and looks to the sky, as if expecting Zeus himself to smite them for blasphemy. Personally, she thinks the king of the gods has better thing to do with his time. “Ah,” he says weakly, “I suppose.”

He pays her for her wares and she leaves, almost immediately bumping into a hunched old woman with grey eyes. “Do you not owe Athena thanks for your talent?” she croaks, gnarled hands curled over a cane.

Arachne is not stupid, but she is foolish. They will tell tales of it. She looks into those grey eyes and declares, “Athena should thank me, since my talents earn her so much praise.”

She pushes past her and keeps walking, ignoring the goddess in humans skin as she disappears into the crowd.

They will tell tales of her hubris. They will all be true.


The next day she bumps into the same old woman at the market. Everything goes downhill from there.

“Know your place, mortal,” Athena says, grey eyes narrowed. There is a crowd around them, and Arachne could save herself, could walk away unscathed, and all she has to do is say her weaving is inferior to that of a goddess.

She will not lie.

“I do,” she says coolly, “and in this matter, it is above you.”

She is not honest as a virtue, but as a vice.

Athena challengers her to a weaving contest. She accepts.


Gods are not so hard to find, if you know where to look.

“It’s a volcano,” the baker repeats, looking down at her coins, as if he feels guilty for taking money from someone who’s clearly not all there.

She grabs her bag of sweet breads and adds it to her pack before swinging it over her shoulders, “Yes, I know. Half a day’s walk, you said?”

“A volcano,” he insists, as if she did not hear him perfectly well the first dozen times.

“Thank you for your help,” she says. He’s shaking his head at her, but she knows what she’s doing.

She walks. She grows hungry, but does not touch the bread she paid for, and walks some more. The sun’s begun to set by the time she makes it to the base of the volcano. It’s tall, impossibly large, and for a moment the promise of defeat threatens to overwhelm her.

But Arachne does not believe in defeat, in loss. They will tell tales of her hubris. Those tales will be true.

She ties a scarf around her braids then hikes her skirt up and ties the material so it falls only to her thighs. She fits work roughened hands into the divots of cooled magma and begins her slow ascent.


The muscles in her legs and arms shake, and her hunger pains are almost as distracting. Her once white dress is dirt smeared and torn and sweat makes her itch as it covers her body and drips down her back.

“What are you doing?”

Arachne turns her head and bites back a scream, looking into one giant eye. The cyclops holds easily to the volcano’s edges, even though her hands are torn and bleeding. She swallows and says, “I heard you like honeyed bread. Is it true?”

The creature tilts his head to the side, baring his long fanged teeth at her. She thinks he might be smiling. “You’ve been climbing for hours. What do you want?”

“Is it true?” she repeats, refusing to flinch.

“Yes,” he says, looking at her the same way the baker had, “it’s true.”

“There’s some sweet bread in my pack, baked this morning,” she says, “it should still be soft.”

His hands are big enough and strong enough that it could probably squeeze her head like a grape. Instead he gently undoes her pack and reaches inside. The honey buns look comically small in his large hands, and he swallows half of them in one bite. He licks his fingers clean when he’s done, and his smile is just as terrifying the second time around. “I am Brontes. Why are you climbing my master’s volcano?”

“I’m the weaver Arachne,” she takes a deep breath, “I need your master’s help.”


They tell tales of Hephaestus’s ugliness.

They are not true.

He’s got a broad, angular face and short brown hair. His eyes are like amber set into his face, and his arms are huge, and he’s rippling muscle from the waist up. He has legs only to his knees. From there down his legs are bronze gears and golden wire, replacements for the legs destroyed when Hera threw him from Mount Olympus.

“Had your look, girl?” he asks, voice rough like he’s always a moment away from breaking into a coughing fit.

“Yes,” she says, and doesn’t turn away, keeps looking.

His lips quirk up at the corners, so it was the right move. The heat is even more oppressive inside the volcano, and all around him cyclopses work, forging oddly shaped metal that she can’t hope to understand. “You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble to find me, girl. What do you want?”

She slides her pack off her shoulders and holds it out to the god, “I have a gift for your wife. I have woven her a cloak.”

He raises an eyebrow and doesn’t reach for the bag, “You believe something made with mortal hands could be worthy of the goddess of beauty?”

They will tell tales of her hubris.


They will all be true.

With a gust of wind the oppressive heat of the volcano is swept away, leaving her chilled. In its place stands a woman – more than a woman. Aphrodite has skin like the copper of her husband’s machines and hair dark and thick and long. Her eyes are deepest, richest brown, piercing in their intelligence. People don’t tell tales of Aphrodite’s cleverness. That is because people are stupid.

“Let’s see it then,” she says, reaching inside the pack and pulling the cloak from its depths.

It unrolls beautifully. It’s made from the finest silks, and it shimmers in the light from the forges. The hem of the cloak is sea foam, speaking of Aphrodite’s beginning, and up along the cloak is intricate patterns it tells of her life, of her marriage and her worshippers and escapades, all with the detail of the most experienced artist and the reverence of her most devoted followers.

Her lips part in surprise and she slides it on, twirling like a child. “Gorgeous,” Hephaestus says, though Arachne knows he does not speak of the cloak. She doesn’t take offense.

The goddess smiles and Arachne’s heart pounds in her chest. She does her best to ignore it – Aphrodite is the goddess of love, after all. It is only expected. “Very well,” the goddess says, “you have my attention.”

Arachne swallows. Aphrodite’s attention is a heavy thing. “I have offended Athena,” she says, “She has challenged me to a weaving contest.”

Their faces somber. Hephaestus rubs the edge of a sleeve between his fingers and says, “Athena will lose such a contest, if judged fairly. She does not take loss well.”

“I know,” she says, “you are friendly with Hades, are you not?”

There are no tales of their friendship. But she’s staking her life on its existence, because why wouldn’t it exist – both of them even tempered, both shunned by Olympus, both happily married.

Gods hate being made to feel lesser. It is why they say Persephone was kidnapped, why they say Aphrodite cheats with Ares. It is why Athena will crush her when Arachne wins the weaving contest.

“Clever girl,” Hephaestus says, smiling.

Aphrodite stares at her reflection in a convenient piece of polished silver. Arachne assumes Hephaestus left if lying there for that express purpose. “Very well!” the goddess says, not looking at her, “when Athena sends you to the underworld, we will entrench upon our uncle for your release.” She turns on her heel and points a finger at her. Arachne blushes for no reason she can think of. “In return, you will weave me a gown, one equal to my own beauty.”

A gown as exquisite as the goddess of beauty. An impossible task.

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“I accept.”

They will all be true.


The contest goes as expected. Athena’s tapestry is lovely, but Arachne’s is lovelier.

The goddess’s face goes red in rage, and her grey eyes narrow. Arachne stands tall, ready to accept the death blow coming for her.

The blow comes.

Death does not.


She is an insect. Even if she can make it back to Hephaestus’s volcano, even if they can help her, they will not know it is her. She has no hope left, no course of action, she should just give up. But –

She doesn’t believe in defeat, in loss.

It was a terribly long journey on foot, that first time. It is even longer this time, although now she has eight legs instead of two. She makes it to the volcano, and creeps in between crevices, until she finds out a hollowed room, one with a sliver of sunlight and plenty of bugs to keep her fed.

Athena’s cruel joke of allowing her to weave will be her downfall. Her silk comes out a golden yellow color – it will look exquisite against Aphrodite’s copper skin.


It takes seven years for her to complete it. She hasn’t left this room in the volcano in all that time, and as soon as it’s done she scurries out back toward the village. She’s a large insect, but not that large.

She arrives just as the sun begins to rise, and leaves before the first rays have even touched the earth, her prize tied to her back with her own silk.

Arachne doesn’t return to her room. Instead she goes to the more popular parts of the volcano, hurries and runs around terrifying stomping feet until she finds who she’s looking for and scurries up his leg and onto his shoulder.

“Huh,” Brontes looks onto his shoulder and blinks. “What on earth are you?”

She cautiously skitters down his arm, waiting. He bends closer and lightly touches her back. “Is – is that a piece of a honey bun?”

She looks up at him, waiting. It’s her only chance, if he doesn’t remember, if he doesn’t understand –

His face slowly fills with a cautious kind of wonder. “Arachne?”  She jumps in place, being unable to nod, and Brontes cautiously cradles her in his massive hands, “We must find the Master immediately!”

She jumps down, landing in front of him and running forward. “Wait!” he calls, and she makes sure he’s running after her before skittering back to her corner of the cave. It’s almost too small for him to enter but he squeezes inside and breathes, “Oh.” He stares for several moments, and Arachne climbs her web and waits. Brontes shakes himself out of his reverie and uses his powerful wings to bellow, “MISTRESS APHRODITE!”

There’s that same breeze and she’s in the crevice with them, “What was so important, Brontes, that you had to yell?”

Arachne sees the exact moment that the goddess sees the gown, golden yellow and glimmering, made entirely of spider silk. “Beautiful,” she says, reaching out a hand to brush down the bodice. Her head then snaps up, “Brontes, where’s Arachne?”

She warms at that, that Aphrodite knew it was her weaving even though she hasn’t been seen in seven years.

They’ve told tales of her hubris.

They are all true.

Brontes points at the web, and Aphrodite steps over and holds out her hands. Arachne crawls onto the goddess’s palms. “Athena is more powerful than I am, I cannot undo her work,” she says, “but I know someone who can.”

Then they are in front of a river. A handsome young man stands there waiting with a boat. “Goddess Aphrodite,” he says, “we weren’t expecting you.”

“Thanatos,” she returns, “I need to see Persephone.”

The man’s face stays cool, and for a moment Arachne fears they will be refused and she will be stuck in this form forever. Then he smiles and says, “My lady is of course available for her favored niece.” He holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, “Please come with me.”


Arachne weaves a dress for Hades’s wife as a thank you, and returns to her volcano.

“I can take you somewhere else,” Aphrodite says, “you don’t have to hide here.”

Arachne pauses at her loom. She has lived in this volcano for seven years. It’s her home. “Would you like me to leave?” she asks instead.

Aphrodite scoffs, “Of course not! How could I dress myself without you here?” She’s wearing the spider silk dress Arachne spun for her, and she’s working on another for the goddess now. Aphrodite runs a gentle finger down Arachne’s cheek and for a moment she forgets to breathe. “You are the finest weaver to ever exist.”

She looks up at the goddess, “Then as the god of crafts and goddess of beautiful things, where else would I belong besides with you and Hephaestus?”

To declare your company equal to that of gods is the height of arrogance and blasphemy.

They tell tales of her hubris.

“An excellent point,” Aphrodite murmurs, and tucks a stray braid behind Arachne’s ear.

They are all true.

gods and monsters series part iii


ZEUS: “I guess we all learned a valuable lesson, except for me, I wasn’t paying attention and was asleep for most of the time”

POSEIDON: “do you want salt with your answer”

HERA: “just found out the world doesn’t revolve around me. Shocked & upset”

ATHENA: “my kink is when people admit I’m right”

APOLLO: “i’m a brat??? okay and??? I know??? next argument???”

ARTEMIS: “i want that dog” “you want every dog”

APHRODITE: “hey just wanted to let you know, I’m beautiful, thank you and goodnight”

HERMES: “you’re kind of annoying” “kind of? kind of?? excuse me. excuse you. I am fully annoying. i am very annoying. there’s nothing half-assed half-hearted  “kind of” about it”   

HADES: “occupation: the family disappointment”

ARES: “sure, I made mistakes when I was younger. But now that I’m older I’ve learned how to make different, often far more serious mistakes”

DIONYSUS: “i’m dropping hints that I’m not fine”

HESTIA: “there’s so much caffeine running through my body right now. It’s like having a cockfight with my anxiety”  

DEMETER: “im sick of being a person. im going go into the woods lay down in the dirt and become a geological feature. and none of you are powerful enough to stop me”

IRIS: “defending myself: oh yeah?? well i got five words for you buddy: please be nice to me”

EOS: “have you ever met someone that was sunshine in human form”

HEBE: “what the fuckaroni”

HEPHAESTUS: “you can’t offend me. I lack emotion”

HEKATE: “it’s only forbidden if you’re a fucking coward”

Remember Hellenic Polytheists...

Aphrodite wants you to be nice to yourself and your body because she thinks it’s beautiful

Apollo cares about your mental health

Dionysus wants you to relax and enjoy life

Hermes appreciates your puns and pranks and silly antics 

Hephaestus thinks you’re hella talented and inspiring as is

Artemis believes you’re strong enough to fight off the bullshit people throw at you

Ares wants you to keep fighting 

Athena believes in you - your intelligence and capability

Poseidon knows that you can be as calm as a lake’s current or as fearsome as an earthquake

Hestia wants you to be safe and comfortable

Persephone wants you to stop and smell the roses

Hera has a beautiful future planned for you

Hades doesn’t want you to kill yourself tonight

and remember, if all else fails,

Zeus would totally start a shit-storm over you

Whatever I say about Rick Riordan, he did give us meaningful messages. They are golden and hit you right in your heart.

If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself.” - The Lightning Thief

“Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing.” -The Lightning Thief

“Even strength must bow to wisdom sometimes.” -The Lightning Thief

“The real world is where the monsters are.” -The Lightning Thief

“Where’s the glory in repeating what others have done?” -The Lightning Thief

“Suspecting and knowing are not the same.” -The Lightning Thief

“Names have power.” -The Lightning Thief

“So few people did good in their lives. It was depressing.” -The Lightning Thief

“The dead aren’t scary. They are just sad.” -The Lightning Thief

“the best people have the rottenest luck” -The Lightning Thief

“If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?” -The Lightning Thief

“It was like looking at the ocean: some days, you could tell what mood
it was in. Most days, though, it was unreadable, mysterious.” -The Lightning Thiel

“You may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?” -The Lightning Thief

“Does truth have a moral?” -The Sea Of Monsters

“Don’t you ever feel like, what if the world really IS messed up? What if we COULD Do it all over again from scratch? No more war. Nobody homeless. No more summer reading homework. “ -The Sea Of Monsters

“Knowledge isn’t always good for you.” -The Sea Of Monsters

“This is the trouble with all happiness -all of it is built on top of something men want.” -The Sea Of Monsters

“there’s one thing I’ve learned over the eons, it’s that you can’t give up on your family, no matter how tempting they make it. It doesn’t matter if they hate you, or embarrass you, or simply don’t appreciate your genius” -The Sea Of Monsters

“But you, Percy - you are part god, part human. You live in both worlds. You can be harmed by both, and you can affect both. That’s what makes heroes so special. You carry the hopes of humanity into the realm of the eternal.” -The Sea Of Monsters

“There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it.” -The Titan’s Curse

“ So I took her hand, and I don’t know what everybody else heard, but to me it sounded like a slow dance: a little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too.” - The Titan’s Curse

“He might as well have stabbed me with a rusty dagger.It would’ve hurt less than reminding me of my promise.” - The Titan’s Curse

“The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation,“ she said. "Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom… that is very hard indeed.” - The Titan’s Curse

"You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear through the search.” - The Titan’s Curse

“Be careful of love. It’ll twist your brain around and leave you thinking up is down and right is wrong.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“People are more difficult to work with than machines. And when you break a person, he can’t be fixed.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“Getting something and having the wits to use it…those are two different things.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“But remember, boy, that a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“You must carry on my spirit. It can no longer be carried by a god. It must be taken up by all of you. “-The Battle Of Labyrinth

“Don’t judge someone until you’ve stood at his forge and worked with his hammer, eh?” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“I was glad to be with her, but it also kind of hurt, and it hurt when I wasn’t with her, too.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“Remake the wild, a little at a time, each in your own corner of the world. You cannot wait for anyone else, even a god, to do that for you.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“Genius does not excuse evil.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

"But… I’m just… I mean, I’m just me.” “That is enough,” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“A good artist must be good at many things.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me now. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“Maybe that’s why monsters fade. Maybe it’s not about what the mortals believe. Maybe it’s because you give up on yourself.” -The Battle Of Labyrinth

“It’s hard to enjoy practical jokes when your whole life feels like one.” -The Last Olympian

“Sometimes the hardest power to master is the power of yielding.” -The Lat Olympian

“No hero is above fear .”-The Last Olympian

"I am here because when all else fails, when all the other mighty gods have gone off to war, I am all that’s left. Home. Hearth. I am the last Olympian” -The Last Olympian

“Because Hope survives best at the Hearth.” -The Last Olympian

“Patterns repeat themselves in history” -The Last Olympian

“You must forge your own path for it to mean anything.” -The Lost Hero

“But beauty is about finding the right fit, the most natural fit, To be perfect, you have to feel perfect about yourself — avoid trying to be something you’re not. For a goddess, that’s especially hard. We can change so easily. “-The Lost Hero

“Don’t stay in one place too long. It was the only way to stay ahead of the sadness.” -The Lost Hero

“My point is that love is the most powerful motivator in the world. It spurs mortals to greatness. Their noblest, bravest acts are done for love.” -The Lost Hero

“Nothing lasts forever, not even the best machines. And everything can be reused. “-The Lost Hero

“Humor was a good way to hide the pain.” -The Lost Hero

“He was the class clown, the court jester, because he’d learn early that if you cracked jokes and pretended you weren’t scared, you usually didn’t get beat up. Even the baddest gangster kids would tolerate you, keep you around for laughs.”-The Lost Hero

   “Maybe people with special gifts show up when bad things are happening because that’s when they’re needed most.” -The Lost Hero

“Life is only precious because it ends, kid.” -The Son Of Neptune

“ What mattered was listening. You didn’t need to say you were sorry. The only thing that helped was moving on—moving forward.” -The Son Of Neptune

“A real man’s weapon is his mind.” -The Son Of Neptune

“Death has more in common with Love than you might imagine.” -The Son Of Neptune

“Nobody welcomes a war - not if they’re smart. But war finds everyone sooner or later. It’s inevitable.” -The Son Of Neptune

“Strange things conspire when one tries to cheat fate” -The Son Of Neptune

“He warned me the greediest wishes cause the greatest sorrows.” -The Son Of Neptune

"As long as we’re together,” -The Mark Of Athena

“Being a hero doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It just means that you’re brave enough to stand up and do what’s needed.” -The Mark Of Athena

“I’m nobody’s sidekick” -The Mark Of Athena

“She had to go on this quest. The fate of the world might depend on it. But part of him wanted to say: Forget the world. He didn’t want to be without her.” -The Mark Of Athena

“Keep it simple.” -The Mark Of Athena

“But she wondered why beautiful things had to be wrapped up with evil history. Or was it the other way around? Maybe the evil history made it necessary to build beautiful things, to mask the darker aspects.” -The Mark Of Athena

“True success requires sacrifice.” -The Mark Of Athena

“Swords can’t solve every problem.” -The Mark Of Athena

“Many of the best traps are simple. You just have to think about it, and hope your victim doesn’t.” -The Mark Of Athena

“Gods forbid if she ever broke up with him. She’d never be able to visit the sea again without remembering her broken heart.”-The Mark Of Athena

“ Tell the sun and stars hello for me.” -The House Of Hades

“ But magic is neither good nor evil. It is a tool, like a knife. Is a knife evil? Only if the wielder is evil.” -The House Of Hades

“I figure the world is basically a machine. I don’t know who made it, if it was the Fates, or the gods, or the capital-G god or whatever. But it chugs along the way it’s supposed to most of the time. Sure, little pieces break off and stuff goes haywire once in a while, but mostly… things happen for a reason.” -The House Of Hades

“Yeah, well,” Nico said, “not giving people a second thought…that can be dangerous.” -The House Of Hades

“Oh, I wouldn’t say Love always makes you happy. Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad.” -The House Of Hades

“Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work- It demands everything from you- especially the truth. Only then does it yield results.” -The House Of Hades

“ I am the god of love. I am never fair.” -The House Of Hades

“Love was the most savage monster of all.” -The House Of Hades

“Ask your friends, Cupid said. Frank, Hazel, and Percy met my counterpart, Thanatos. We are not so different. Except Death is sometimes kinder.” -The House Of Hades

“Bob says hello”-The House Of Hades

“Love is on every side, and no one’s side. Don’t ask what Love can do for you.” -The House Of Hades

“He didn’t think much of fates and prophecies, but he did believe in one thing: Annabeth and he were supposed to be together.” -The House Of Hades

“ I’m not choosing one of your paths. I’m making my own.” -The House Of Hades

“Must’ve been hard on your mom,” Frank said. “I guess we’ll do anything for someone we love.” -The House Of Hades

“ Mortals did superhuman feats in the name of love all the time. “-The House Of Hades

“It is a costly thing, looking on the true face of Love.” -The House Of Hades

“It’s natural to feel fear. All great warriors are afraid. Only the stupid and the delusional are not…” -The House Of Hades

“The dead see what they believe they will see. So do the living. That is the secret.” -The House Of Hades

“She had to face the fact that she couldn’t protect everyone she loved. She couldn’t solve every problem.” -The House Of Hades

“Well, maybe you got the smoke, buddy, but I’ve got the fire.” -The House Of Hades

“I guess once in a while we all need a wake-up call from somebody who loves us.” -The House Of Hades

“No one can hate you with more intensity than someone who used to love you.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“ You should have to make someone`s heart whole; that was a much better test.”   -The Blood Of Olympus

“Some pain shouldn’t be wished away so easily. It had to be dealt with, even embraced.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“You can’t choose your parentage. But you can choose your legacy.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“I don’t define myself by the boys who may or may not like me” -The Blood Of Olympus

“Our desires reveal us. They show us for who we really are.” -The Blood Of Olympus

‘Getting a second life is one thing. Making it a better life, that’s the trick.’ -The Blood Of Olympus

“Fear can’t be reasoned with. Neither can hate. They’re like love. They’re almost identical emotions. That’s why Ares and Aphrodite like each other. Their twin sons – Fear and Panic – were spawned from both war and love.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“A wind that blows aimlessly is no good to anyone.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“Keep moving. Don’t get bogged down. Don’t think about the bad stuff. Smile and joke even when you don’t feel like it. Especially when you don’t feel like it.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“Your voice is your identity.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“Dreams and death were old friends of his. He knew how to navigate their dark borderland.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“The most difficult kind of strength – restraint.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“You will not find love where you wish or where you hope.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“All aboard for one last trip.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“ The darkness is my birthright.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“Complaining of unfairness is like assigning blame, Percy Jackson. It does no one any good.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“It’s stupid what keeps people apart.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“Nico had once read a story from Plato, who claimed that in the ancient times, all humans had been a combination of male and female. Each person had two heads, four arms, four legs. Supposedly, these combo-humans had been so powerful they made the gods uneasy, so Zeus split them in half—man and woman. Ever since, humans had felt incomplete. They spent their lives searching for their other halves.” -The Blood Of Olympus

“But too much love is poison, especially when that love is not returned.” -The Blood Of Olympus

I just did the PJO and HOO ones.

the aesthetics of the gods
  • Aphrodite: the bruises of love bites left by lovers on necks and thighs; smudged lipstick from hasty kisses; blood red roses with their sharp thorns still intact; the way you hug someone you love when you reunite after a lengthy separation
  • Apollo: polished instruments gleaming, held like the most precious of jewels by their owners; a sunny day with a clear blue sky where there are no clouds in sight; the rough script of poems penned out on scraps of paper or napkins before they're forgotten; when music is so loud that you feel it reverberating in your bones; the pale lines of fading scars
  • Ares: the hands of a fighter, short finger nails and bloodied knuckles; split lips that have scabbed over; the smooth and intricate lines of old weapons you see mounted on museum walls; deep trenches dug out from the earth; the way barbed wire contrasts against whatever it surrounds
  • Artemis: loose braids with wild flowers slipped in; the majesty of tall trees stretching up endlessly towards the heavens; the wide and captivating eyes of wild deer; cloudy nights where the moon is just barely peeking through; the colorful fletching of arrows drawn back to rest upon cheeks and along jaws
  • Athena: the straight and steady way a soldier stands at attention; fingertips smudged with ink; a stack of books to read piled on the floor or a nightstand; eyes gleaming with the glow of new ideas; the quiet and contemplative aura of museums and libraries
  • Demeter: the way sunlight catches dust motes in the air through the gaps in the leaves of the trees; the feeling of life you get from standing in the middle of an orchard with bees buzzing around you; crocuses and snowdrops peeking through the last dredges of winter's snow
  • Hades: the bleached bones of animals in the forest when moss has begun to engulf them; the way that graveyard angels look like they're weeping in the rain; the solemn aura of old churches, citadels, synagogues, temples, and mosques
  • Hephaestus: the pleasure of holding something you've created in your palms; the soft glow of heated metal; the intricate beauty of cogs and gears fitting together precisely and working in tandem; the smooth and polished surfaces of high-rise business buildings
  • Hera: the lacy white of flowing wedding gowns; the way a couple's hands look clasped together; pairs of old wedding rings that are scratched from years of use; the feeling of surrealism that comes from looking at old family portraits; getting used to sharing a space with someone else and then seeing the mannerisms you've unknowingly adopted from them
  • Hermes: the way that the low beam headlights of a car touch the roads that stretch ever onwards at night; old maps yellowed at the corners from their age; the way that things rush past when you look out the window of a car or train; quick hands slipping deftly into pockets and taking what they find
  • Hestia: the light and protection of street lights in an otherwise dark city; the warmth of your bed on cold winter mornings; the heat of a fire as you sit around it with people you love; the comfort of a home-cooked meal
  • Poseidon: the way light looks when you're seeing it shine down from deep underwater; the effervescent colors of cresting waves; the eery beauty of shipwrecks; the ripples created when you trail your fingertips through still waters; dust clouds kicked up by the passing of strong hooves
  • Zeus: the way that storm clouds darken the edge of the horizon; silhouettes framed against the sky by flashes of lightning; the splay of feathers of a bird's outstretched wings; the polished and tarnished brass of old fashioned scales

Athena : If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.

Ares : What if it bites me and it dies?

Hephaestus : That means you’re poisonous. Jesus Christ, Ares.

Hermes : What if it bites itself and I die?

Hecate : It’s voodoo.

Apollo : What if it bites me and someone else dies?

Artemis : That’s correlation, not causation.

Dionysus : What if we bite each other and neither of us die?

Aphrodite : That’s kinky.

Hestia : Oh my god.


Pt. 2 of the backgrounds I made! Enjoy!

Pt. 1: https://sarahsspirits.tumblr.com/post/171280581687/pt-1-of-some-backgrounds-i-made-feel-free-to-use💕— Pt. 3: https://sarahsspirits.tumblr.com/post/171309650392/pt-3-of-the-theoi-backgrounds-thanks-for-the

Signs as Olympus Greek Gods

Aries: Ares (we already knew this one come on now, loves to be center of attention, loud and feisty af???)

Taurus: Hephaestus (I know he’s got some fire shit going on, but he is stubborn as all hell and don’t take shit from no one)

Gemini: Hermes (the perfect gemini tbh, like he’s fast, a messenger, low key loves drama??)

Cancer: Apollo (light, creative, sensual and nosy, the best Apollo you’ll ever meet was definitely a cancer don’t quote me on this)

Leo: Zeus (if you think Leo you think Zeus. Leos are bossy af, they loooove being center of attention and love being the leader of everything)

Virgo: Hera (definitely virgo = hera bc hera loves being the boss lowkey, as do virgos and she can be plenty bossy, but she also always gets her way except with things she truly wants. virgos are the real boss of olympus tbh)

Libra: Aphrodite (libras loooove attention and looking absolute best, they love being the prettiest one in the room and are super persuasive)

Scorpio: Hades (moody, sassy, loves solitude??? am I talking about scorpios or hades???)

Sagittarius: Dionysus (PARTY ANIMALS every sag ive ever met were partiers who didn’t give a shit about nothing! real life of the party tbh)

Capricorn: Artemis (loves girl power, always for being the leader but super lowkey, probably the most agreeable nice one tbh)

Aquarius: Athena (smarty fucking pants tbh, always knows the plans, sassy af, and fixes all the shit that everyone else causes)

Pisces: Poseidon (smooth af, and deep af. is a charmer despite the stereotypes, but also thinks about some real deep shit and stands up for what’s right when needed)

Subtly connecting to the gods

Aphrodite: simple “I love yous” at the end of phone calls 

Apollo: memorizing a poem and making playlists 

Ares: mindless bantering with a friend 

Artemis: reminding little girls that they can do anything a boy can do

Athena: rereading a book and noticing things that you never noticed the first time

Demeter: worrying about what seems small

Dionysus: taking a moment to actually taste your drink 

Hades: mourning a loss

Hephaestus: finally building that shelf  

Hera: going out on anniversaries 

Hermes: stealing your sister’s shirt 

Hestia: making a house a home 

Persephone: taking a moment to look for the beautiful in a dull situation

Poseidon: swimming on a sunny day

Zeus: driving through storms