Everything-ornothing-aboutme - A Bit Of Everything

Demigods cursed by the enemies of their godly parents

Imagine demigods whose weaknesses depend on their godly parent's enemies. Not like "I hate their kids" but in a "their powers affect me" kind of way.

Zeus' kids with fertility problems, who always happen to see dangerous sea animals at the beach, who are terribly scared of the dark.

Poseidon's kids with asthma, who can only learn how to use one weapon, who have worse dyslexia than other demigods.

Demeter's kids scared of heights, who have alergic reactions to certain metals used for jewellery.

Ares' kids who can't use any technological device, who can't bring themselves to be near a horse/pegasus (let alone ride one).

Athena's kids who never learn how to swim properly, who can't come up with cruel strategies even when their lives depend on it, whose weapons break way too easily.

Apollo's kids who avoid at all costs eating meat, who are scared of thunder, who can't learn a second language.

Hephestus' kids with allergic reactions to feathers and cosmetics, who faint at the sight of blood, who can't read a map even when they know the area.

Aphrodite's kids who break every invention they use, who are allergic to pollen, whose battle plans go wrong.

Hermes' kids who sunburn fast, whose wealth doesn't last long, whose plants dry no matter how much they water them.

Dionisus' kids whose spouses die young.

Hades' kids with celiac disease, who get seasick even in calm lakes, who are unable to get into planes.

This right here is the thesis statement for the entire Percy Jackson series.

i vote to have a scene where clarisse jumps luke after hearing he’s calling her the lightning thief

how do i talk about my loneliness? do i say it’s more a sense of alienation than anything else? do i want to risk naming the thing, to excavate the ruins of my old self? she is still here; a ghost, a haunting. maybe i am just made of echoes, never a real voice or an authentic sound but the remains of something. i am leaning towards the horizon like a flower towards sunlight but i am rooted. do i say that i have even forgotten how to write? words used to bubble out of me when i looked at a blank page, like freed prisoners or escape artists. now the words die on my tongue, like a betrayal. maybe i’m just tired. maybe it’s just weariness, a profound fatigue that precludes everything. i am a smudge. negative space. defined by things unspoken. wordlessness, a loaded silence. a loaded gun. how do i talk about the reasons why i cry myself to sleep at night without turning it into a cliché? how do i talk about the mood swings, the anger, the roiling mess of god-knows-what in my chest and in the pit of my stomach that i am no longer empowered by? where do i put the anger, the mourning? if not released by expression, then can i find a way to be a good cage for my restlessness? can i be a good ruler so melancholy doesn’t curdle into rage? now even the words on the page look hollow, lifeless. i realise i have been giving up for quite some time. it does not feel like relief. this whole time, i have been nursing a revolution inside me. i feel mutinous—against the world, against myself. if i cannot put my insecurities into poetry, if i cannot make my ugliness poetic, then i’m afraid there’s nothing left. do i say that sometimes i am seized by episodes of grief, facing the emptiness and silence pressing in around me, pulsing from within me, until i either suffocate from the claustrophobia or implode like a star? do i say that i am sick of trying, sick of feeling like i should give up, sick of needing to let go when holding on is the only thing i’m good at? do i say that i am a fundamentally hopeless person, oscillating between cynicism and optimism every day until i give myself whiplash? do i say that a scream has been building inside of me, drowning out the silence, perhaps even replacing it, but i do not have the freedom to voice it? do i say that my existence has been lined with incompleteness? do i say that i confuse solitude with agency, anger with redemption, and numbness with respite? do i say what i have never allowed myself to say before—that i am tension yet i persuade myself into thinking i am at peace; that i am always trapped in the push and pull of opposing inner forces, the old coward and the new fool; that i am a contradiction, egoistic yet self-effacing? my life is a perpetual attempt at reconciliation. i crave attention, recognition, care, clout—i know some part of me believes i am owed these things—yet every material accomplishment i am forced to call my own exists to negate this vision of myself, which is a delusion, at the end of the day. i think i am going insane. when push comes to shove, i stumble and fall. there is no rationalising my way out of this labyrinth of desires and dreams and disappointments. i am outlined in discrepancies, built up by expectations and then torn down by reality. is this loneliness? is keeping yourself to yourself strength or denial? the inarticulable parts of me i hate the most, yet they are a spectre that haunts me, a shadow self that i want to fistfight but am too jaded to. i am alienated from myself. i am fragmented, compartmentalised to the point of no return. i never bring my whole self towards anything; i don’t even know what wholeness is. everything matters, then none of it does. i am in limbo, neither heaven nor hell but a kind of purgatory, a small place where only i exist. it’s the solipsism of the depressed that i take refuge in, and at the same time want to disavow. is this loneliness, then? being too ashamed of these unflattering details of yourself to voice them out, so you have to carry them like a burden, and it ends up defining who you are anyway?

never bothered watching the movie but I feel this frame on a spiritual level

okay i'll say it: percy being "different" because sally taught him the myths before he knew he was a demigod is an unnecessary change. percy was never "different" because he knew the myths and thus came into the mythology world knowing how fucked up everything is. he's different because he has a strong sense of loyalty (fatal flaw). he's different because his mum loved him and he learned love and compassion and kindness from her. he's different because when the time comes, he will choose to be the demigod of the prophecy. he's different because despite the life he's had he's a good kid. he's different because he will not give respect that hasn't been earned, even if it gets him into trouble. he's not different for knowing the gods are a fucked up family and that sometimes a monster is not a monster. he's not different for not wanting kleos. in fact i think it's much more impactful if he gets to that conclusion himself, if he sees it and he comes out kinder and choosing not to continue the cycle on the other side.

also they should have let annabeth say the exposition. not just because she's the "smart one" even though she is, but because she was raised in the world of the gods since she was seven and she would absolutely have biases percy could challenge with his own choices.

you know.

like in the book richard wrote already.

seen lots of articles and people saying that heartstopper was like "too clean" and that teenagers aren't that wholesome and they should be having sex and doing drugs and stuff and sure some teenagers definitely do have sex and party and do drugs but honestly a lot of teenagers DON'T and the idea in tv that all teenagers do that kind of thing can really fuck you up when you're like 16!!!! because you think you're behind your peers but mostly you AREN'T !!!!! we need boring teenager representation not everyone has a euphoria skins degrassi teenagehood some of us didn't drink or party or date some of us just did the kind of stuff they did in heartstopper like walk dogs and have sleepovers and skip prom to hang out at a friend's house and dance and have a good time and watch sitcoms!!! like heartstopper is good representation for people who just had regular uneventful teenage years!!!!

“Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. “I don’t agree.” The ground rumbled. Cracks appeared m the road, the sidewalks, the sides of the buildings. Skeletal hands grasped the air as the dead clawed their way into the world of the living. “(Percy Jackson- The last Olympian) - - - I stand for one EPIC ghost king! 🖤 You can’t deny….Nico’s got style. This scene blew my mind. It’s SO epic! I had to do a comic about this. -

when you grew up as a lonely uncool girl it will never stop haunting you by the way. you will meet a cool person at a bar or the train station or at a friend's party and you can wear your most stylish outfit and striking eye makeup and you will swear that they can see through all of the facade and see the lonely terribly insecure teenage girl you used to be who desperately wanted to connect and you will swear that they know that there is like an insurmountable gap between you. this will happen forever

Ada Limón, “Love Poem with Apologies for My Appearance”