At This Point I Picture The War Of Troy (Troy War? English Is Not My First Language Etc) Like This:

At this point I picture the war of Troy (Troy war? English is not my first language etc) like this:

Achilles and Patroclus: *being gay AF for each other*

Odysseus: *singing holding an ukelele* I wanna gooo the fuckkk hooome *insert sad ukelele noises*

Doodling in class

"Nico is a black cat and will a golde retrie-" stfu these are them

( In fact Nico could be also a bat, those little things are cute and silly, but it's hard to find duo images bettwen a orange cat and a bat)

When I say "defending jason online isn't enough, I need a gun" I'm SO fr i literally left the percy Jackson subreddit community on reddit because I see like atleast 5 comments/posts of people going "jason is so worthless and deserved to die, look! Percy is so much better" atleast 3x times a week.

Don't y'all get fucking bored for posting the same stale ahh shit to get upvotes lmao. The goal is to get internet validation from strangers, and the only way to do that is use Jason (aka one of the most hated characters in pjo) as the punching bag

WHY. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME.

I-

I may never recover from this.

i keep seeing sad posts talking about "may castellan making sandwiches every day waiting in hopes that her son will return" and.

guys.

there is no hope for may castellan. she is not waiting at the door with lunch and a tentative smile, waiting for him to come home even though he didn't yesterday, or yesterday, or yesterday, or yesterday. "in hopes" implies that there will come a day when that hope fades. in hopes implies she knows the odds are bad. in hopes implies reality will eventually catch up to her.

there is no hope for may castellan.

she is not waiting in hopes for her son to return. she is preparing, day after day after day (after day after day after day after day after) for the inevitability that luke will return to her. she does not know he is dead. she does not understand he is gone. she does not realize that time has passed; to her luke is nine, still. to her she is still placidly awaiting to return of a fourth grader. luke is not nineteen and betraying his camp. he is not twenty and housing a titan. he is not twenty one and watching his friends get slaughtered in an arena, twenty-two and forcing his sister to hold up the sky, twenty three and realizing, soul shuddering in his chest, that he has made a mistake he can never take back, that he can never undo what he has done.

luke castellan to his mother is a child who has not yet lost all his baby teeth. the cookies she makes for him are soft, because she remembers that. he still leaves the crust behind on his sandwiches. he has scrapes on his elbows and dirt on his nose. he flinches before he hugs her. he spends a lot of time outside, but he comes home before dark.

may castellan's tragedy is not that she is penelope waiting for odysseus to one day return and we know that he will not. may castellan's tragedy is that she does not understand her hero has left at all. may castellan's tragedy is that she will never understand, and she will continue to age, and continue to deteriorate, and one day she will die and she will spend eternity walking the dying poplar fields, whittled down to the memory of something missing from her.

there is no hope for may castellan.

In Survive, i think that as soon as Polites becomes a flat pack version, Odysseus falls to the ground and freezes, unable to look away from his friends broken body, tears pouring down his face, as Eurylochus screams for some kind of direction or order or something.

But Odysseus is still, face being slowly covered in the blood of his comrades, focus only on Polites. He knows the cyclops will fall soon.

He hopes the lotus was strong enough.

He prays.

He prays, silently begging over his best friends shattered remains that his intellect didn’t fail him, it couldn’t fail him. It didn’t fail him all through 10(?) years of war.

He had lost too many men to be wrong.

He knew them all.

And now, every time Eurylochus, or the crew calls out “Captain”, he freezes, taken back to one of his largest failings yet. And beyond that, taken back to the night he truly became the monster, years before he even knew of the underworld. That horrible night, when he saved his family. When he ensured their safety from the gods and the might of Troy.

This is why Odysseus doesn’t respond when his men are drownon, screaming, desperately trying to hold on to anything that won’t drag them down deeper.

This is why Odysseus doesn’t react when the souls of all of the men he failed scream, begging for him to remember them (see what i did there), demanding an explanation of why he let guilt get the better of them.

Odysseus isn’t even present. He is in his mind, singing a lullaby to Astanyx and Telemachus. He is serenading Penelope and living out his life if he had never left for war.